The alarm clock on the bedside table tells him that it’s 3:53 AM, and Choi Junhong knows he should be sleeping at this hour. After all, he can count on one hand the number of hours remaining before he has to get dressed up and leave to go perform at a music show along with the other members of B.A.P, and since sleep is a luxury Junhong doesn’t get much of as a member of the busiest rookie group in South Korea, he knows he ought to be spending what little time he has left desperately clinging to the land of dreams.

But when Junhong rolls over in an attempt to make himself more comfortable in the unfamiliar hotel bed, he finds himself face to face with the reason why, in spite of what common sense tells him, he knows he won’t be getting another wink of sleep any time soon: lying next to him in the double bed, light brown hair barely fanning out across the pillow, is the sleeping form of Bang Yongguk.

For a moment, Junhong just lies there, breathing in and out slowly as he gazes at the peaceful expression on the older man’s face. He’s scared to shut his eyes, afraid that if he so much as blinks, all of this will disappear. It feels like a dream. He’s loved Yongguk for so long now, he can’t even remember falling for him; the feeling is just a part of him, and has been for at least a year. But in all that time, Yongguk hasn’t shown the slightest sign of even recognizing Junhong’s feelings, let alone reciprocating them. So what happened the night before that resulted in Junhong waking up in bed with the older man?

As Junhong lies there, watching the way Yongguk’s chest rises and falls with every breath that escapes his full lips, his mind starts spinning back, trying to piece together exactly what happened the night before. It’s a blur, to say the least – all loose lips and clumsy words, with a little too much adrenaline coursing through his veins – but Junhong distinctly remembers feeling a little too brave and saying something he really probably shouldn’t have. Maybe it was the rush of being alone with Yongguk in a foreign hotel room that made his tongue a little more liberated than usual, or maybe his heart was just fed up with dealing with the sting of unspoken love for so long – all Junhong knows is that he couldn’t take sitting in silence for one more minute.

The sun had set an hour before, and he and Yongguk were settled in for the evening, lying atop their respective sides of the hotel room’s double bed. The room was dim, with only the low light of a solitary lamp to illuminate it. Yongguk was absorbed with his phone, scrolling through what Junhong was certain must be pages upon pages of fascinating Instagram posts, and though he had tried turning to his own phone for amusement, mere moments had passed before Junhong grew bored, settling instead for simply watching his elder as he scrolled. This was alright for a while, but then his mind started racing and his tongue came unglued.

“You don’t know how much I love you, do you?”

Yongguk was startled at that. He looked up from his phone, his dark eyes locking with Junhong’s as he sputtered “What?”

Junhong remembers his heartbeat racing and his tongue repeating the confession – “I love you” – and then his memory goes fuzzy. He can’t remember anything else they said, or even if they said anything else at all.

But he knows Yongguk kissed him. He knows, because even now he can still feel the pressure of the older man’s lips against his, can still taste the way his tongue felt in his mouth, and as he stares at Yongguk’s sleeping figure in the early morning darkness, Junhong is suddenly overcome with the desire to kiss him again.

Before he even has a chance to decide whether or not to act on this rash impulse, Yongguk’s eyes are fluttering open, and as they lock with Junhong’s, his lips curl up into that gummy smile that makes Junhong’s stomach flutter. “So it wasn’t a dream, huh?” Yongguk asks, his voice low and rough with sleep.

Junhong shakes his head shyly, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding against his ribs just from Yongguk looking at him like that. His tongue darts out to moisten his now-dry lips. “No.”

They lay there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, both too afraid to speak. Junhong’s heart is beating so fast now he can hear it in his ears, and the sound only gets louder as Yongguk reaches out a tentative hand and places it on the side of Junhong’s face. His skin is on fire where Yongguk touches him, his soft fingertips tracing feather-light patterns into Junhong’s cheek. “I’m glad,” Yongguk murmurs, his eyes already falling shut, as if ready to drift into sleep once more.

Maybe it’s the paranoia that still hasn’t fully left him yet, or maybe he just isn’t ready for this moment to be over – either way, Junhong panics. His heart manages to speed up to a rate even quicker than before as his hand finds Yongguk’s, gripping it tightly as if to keep him from slipping away. “Hyung,” he breathes, and the word is barely a whisper yet Yongguk’s eyes fly open as if he’d shouted it.

“What?” The delivery is so familiar, almost identical to the way he said it the night before, and it shocks Junhong into realizing exactly what it is that has him so uneasy. He told Yongguk he loved him. Yongguk kissed him. But… then what?

“I don’t remember,” he says, and his eyes are wide, pleading almost, as they desperately search Yongguk’s face for something, anything to reassure himself that he isn’t reading this wrong; that he isn’t piecing together bits and fragments of truth into a lie just to make his heart stop hurting. “After you kissed me…”

His words are cut off as Yongguk’s lips press against his for the second time, and just as before, Junhong’s brain goes numb. His eyes flutter shut, arms travelling up to wrap around Yongguk’s thick neck. He doesn’t need answers any more – at least, not with words. The way his lips part so readily to let the older man inside is more than answer enough.

“After you kissed me, you said something. What was it?”

“I said ‘I love you,’ Junhong. I love you too.”