A/N: Ah, the plot is finally moving forward! Somewhat, anyway. As always, thank you to the subscribers and the readers who left comments! :) Thoughtful comments make me that much more inspired to write the next chapter, so feedback is always welcome! Give me your thoughts on why I've named the fic 'Tingle', or about the chapter titles! :) Seeing people who really give some thought to details a writer's chosen is the greatest pleasure for a writer. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It'll only get more fun from here, so I hope you stay tuned!

Chapter IV - Touch 2

Dujun gives him a phone call the following afternoon, and Yoseob has to set Yanggaengie down on the floor to retrieve his cell phone, which has been sitting untouched on the table for a few hours now.

“Hello?” He says tentatively into the receiver.

There’s a deep sigh, and then their leader speaks. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one first?”

 “Good news,” Yoseob answers almost immediately. It must have something to do with the article from last night, and if that’s the case, he’s going to need the good news first.

Dujun chuckles on the other line. “As expected of our Fairy Yang. Anyway, the company’s got a lead on the writer of that article, and they’ll be setting up an official statement within a few days, so don’t worry about it anymore. Junhyung’s also volunteered to clear up the rumors himself, so we’ve invited a more reputable news source to hold a short interview.” There’s an unhealthy pause, and he waits for the other shoe to drop.

“But it might be better not to be seen in public with Junhyung for a while.”

Unconsciously, his grip on the phone tightens. He understands what Dujun means. There’s no real need to stir the hornet’s nest any further. It’s not as if their lives revolve around one another; their mutual love for music set aside, the two of them couldn’t be more different than night and day, and they’re both well known for fully immersing themselves into their individual activities and interests. Still, being forced to keep a low profile doesn’t sit well with him. Neither of them has done anything wrong.

 “We’re not even dating, though?” Yoseob forces out a wry laugh he doesn’t really feel and tries to keep his voice light. “If we’re going to go that far, should Junhyung and I make a public apology for something we didn’t do, too?” Dujun remains silent.

In the end, Yoseob concedes to his instructions, and Dujun ends the call with ‘stay strong’ and ‘Fighting!’

It’s not a big deal, he tells himself as he sinks into the couch. Yanggaengie yaps excitedly around his legs, but it feels like all the strength in his body has left him. Being apart has never been a problem before, since Junhyung always leaves him messages when he’s working on a song, an unspoken invitation to join him, whether it be at the studio or just to spend time together without really doing anything. Yoseob doesn’t really miss the chaos of six fully-grown men living in a single dorm, but sometimes a wave of nostalgia hits him, and when it does, the first thing he does is contact Junhyung. Regardless of what he’s been doing, Junhyung is a friend who would drop everything to meet him.

Yoseob blinks back sudden tears welling up in his eyes and sits up. The more he dwells on it, the sadder he’ll become. The best thing to do is to keep himself busy, and in no time the rumors will have died down and they’ll be able to meet as they wish.

…

A week passes by with painful slowness, and Yoseob is bored out of his mind. He’s gone to the boxing gym like usual, reviewed choreography of their more recent songs, looked up musicals scheduled for production, and even practiced Junhyung’s rap lines (not that he would ever admit it to anyone). The distractions would work for a while, and then he would see something that reminded him of his friend, and he’d stop what he was doing to wonder if Junhyung was okay and no new nasty scandals had sprouted up.

Just when he’s caught himself doing the same thing yet again, thinking about Hyungnim while playing with Yanggaengie and then associated the dog with its owner Junhyung, he receives a message.

Is the color right?

It’s a picture of a rose, startling in its unnatural blueness. For a moment he is puzzled. Why would Junhyung send him a photo of a blue rose? And then he remembers—that day they won first place on M!Countdown, Yoseob had played around with a blue rose the fans had given him. Junhyung, with his color blindness, had initially mistaken the color for green, and had only realized when Yoseob asked him if he knew what blue roses stood for.

 Yeah, it’s blue all right, he texts back, biting down the giddy smile that threatens to spill over his face. But what’s it for?

Just

Yoseob doesn’t have time to form a retort before the next message comes.

Felt like it. I think I’ve got something. Meet at my place?

He practically leaps out of his seat with excitement. None of the other four can comprehend his eagerness at accompanying Junhyung when he’s in complete workaholic mode, but Yoseob never gets tired of witnessing the exact instant when a new song is born from the broken bars their composer hums to himself. This isn’t the Junhyung who becomes tongue-tied and nervous when confronted with the camera, but a professional who knows precisely how to string the notes and sounds together into beautiful melodies. It’s a side only Yoseob gets to see, and the selfish part of him is more than happy to keep it that way.

Be there soon, he types and sends. Perhaps this song will be on their next album. How nice it would be if it were!

Junhyung’s inky black hair is still damp from the shower when he greets Yoseob at the door. As he leans forward to close the door, he presses close against Yoseob. He can feel the warmth radiating off of Junhyung’s skin, from his fingers pushing down on Yoseob’s shoulder, from the puff of breath he takes as he pulls the handle shut. These are all things he should be used to, but for some reason he is strangely conscious of them now.

He is grabbed by the hand and led to the living room by a smiling Junhyung, who pushes him down the sofa playfully. Standing up to give him a dose of his own medicine, Yoseob spots the blue rose placed right in the center of the table. Surrounded by nothing but space, it gives off a lonely aura. He picks it up absent-mindedly, admiring the dazzling color that doesn’t exist anywhere in nature, only coming to life in the hands of men. Junhyung snatches the rose away, only to carefully tuck it behind Yoseob’s left ear.

“I woke up thinking about this,” he says, running a hand through freshly-showered hair, “Yoseob and that odd-colored rose.” Junhyung laughs, and the corners of Yoseob’s mouth automatically turn up even if he has no idea what’s going on. “I’ve got the title now.

“It’s ‘Flower’.”