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Wooyoung doesn’t find him.

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He’s Noah Hoverfly in Australia, where they give him weird looks because his surname has to be a joke. He doesn’t mind it as long as no one recognizes him and nobody succeeds at locating him. He goes simply by Noah most of the time, and he sails a small boat near a sleepy little town where Internet access is restricted, so even when back on shore he’s spared of any news he won’t admit to be craving for. Over the years, he’s saved enough money to not have to work as long as he’s careful, so that’s what he does. He ends up enjoying the hot weather; in Korea it was nearly winter, and he would probably feel lonely if it was cold. He might also crave for a touch, a hug, a kiss, another body's heat--but that happens anyway. He can't avoid missing that warmth, and often dives and swims because the ever-refreshing ocean distracts him. He sleeps more than he has in the last half decade, and he reads, and he thinks maybe a little too much. 

He moves when it feels like his heart will play tricks on him to regret his decision, one he has to stick by in spite of the hurt he’s causing himself and everyone involved. In France, Nathan Hubert doesn’t call so much attention: he wears red scarves, black sunglasses and brown berets. His hair has grown a little, until he can easily recall his 2008 self in the mirror. He goes around taking photographs and even sells a few anonymously—he’s got enough free time to practice, so that at least a single one out of two hundred will look good. As he strolls around Paris, noticing happy faces, taking shots of hopeful, resolved, illusioned people, the New Year hits him in the face: it is now 2012, and he dared spend Christmas away from his two families. He did talk to the one in Thailand but he knows it means too little; there's only so much one can express and hold back as hard as he holds the phone without breaking down. He struggles to shut the memories down, but he’s never been good at that.

He’s Nicolas Herrera in Chile, where he visits the Andes, goes up and down the mountains through gelid air that shows him what some months of exercising less than you’re used to can do to your body’s resistance. He has more difficulties with the language than he did in Australia, where the accent, the slangs and his tendency to mix either Thai or Korean expressions to English were the "only" problem. And in France, where despite understanding him most people would get offended if approached with an "excuse me?" rather than a "pardon" or an "excusez-moi". In Chile, however, even fewer people speak English and they’re harder to find the further he goes.

He still enjoys the sounds and sights and feels of nature, the pure if cutting air, the view from the top… Time seems to go slower here, as if demanding him to appreciate every moment. This is something he will take with him when he goes—wherever. 

As much as he welcomes the difficulties he’s going through, he knows that this is nothing compared to what has already happened, what he has already overcome, what the others have likely handled since he left. 

He misses being Nichkhun. He misses the difficulties of learning Korean—the language and the culture—, the familiarity he already felt while being there, his brothers and friends and his fans and being on stage and—missing only one home instead of two. He misses being comfortable around people most of the time, hearing languages he mostly understands and can communicate with, visiting known places and seeing the people he loves. 

He misses Wooyoung.

He doesn’t allow that feeling to surface often. But every time he shuts it down and decides he should go somewhere else, he recognizes the possibility of losing himself and drowning within the void. 

He’s been doing this the easy way. Too easy, to avoid the problems and the people involved, even if it’s to protect them—or at least that’s what he’s been telling himself.

There’s someone who might understand how he feels, though. He decides it’s time to take that risk, and move again. 

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They gather for dinner like they’ve been trying to do at least once a week, but Wooyoung doesn’t see the point. The tension is thick, they’re wary of each other, tired of the situation, the press, the demand for news they don’t have. Some fans cheer them on, others ask for Nichkhun, and the silent ones are probably turning their backs on the group. Having experienced this before should make things easier, but Wooyoung feels like laughing at the thought; it’s so ridiculous, so unreal, so far from making any of them feel better... It seems that they’re falling apart instead of sticking together like they did two years ago. He wants to shout and shake them all, himself included, but he doesn’t have the strength to do so. Fruitless search, unanswered calls and e-mails and tweets and messages everywhere, every time—he’s tired, too. Losing the hope he supposed would always be there to guide him despite his disbelief. 

Taecyeon and Junsu have ordered something for them all to eat and Chansung is helping them set the dishes. Wooyoung and Junho are sitting at the table, opposite each other, the latter browsing his cell phone while the former tries to brace himself for what’s to come—as much as they don’t want to discuss the subject. They know this time they can’t let the press run with the latest article that has spread like wildfire and raised rumors that could become true if they don’t handle this carefully. 

“It’s everywhere,” Junho drops his phone on the table as if it were to blame, disgust in his voice. “It’s no use trying to fight this. They don’t believe what we say, and the fact that we don’t have anything to say, really, that’s not helping.”

Chansung sends a look at Junsu and Taecyeon to see if they’re going to interfere; their lack of response says they’re not. Wooyoung thinks it’s time for them to let everything out and be honest, but he’s also dreading this. He knows some things can’t be said. He doesn’t want to, and he thinks the other responsible half doesn’t either, if his disappearance from the face of the Earth is anything to go by.

He pats the chair next to him and Chansung sits down, a weak yet thankful smile gracing his features for a second. Junho looks expectantly at them, waiting for anyone to follow up to his comment, but Wooyoung keeps his gaze pointedly fixed at the maknae.

“You can have my chicken,” he tries, though he doesn’t really mean it; he’s not depressed enough to stop eating. It’s worth it when Chansung seems to relax and rests his head on Wooyoung’s shoulder for a moment. Then, he straightens up and looks at the one across from them.

“You’re not giving up,” Chansung states, because he knows Junho and because he won’t accept any of them to behave otherwise. His usual calmness has expanded and shifted into a steady rock that often triggers Junho’s anger instead of helping him cool down: Junho needs to explode, he needs someone to take it out on, and Chansung has basically refused to be that person anymore. 

Junho looks about to say something snarky but he stares aside, then to the floor, and almost jumps when Junsu sits by his side and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, chill out.” Junsu says it lightly, through a smile. Junho nods, but he bites into the corner of his mouth as his eyes become small slits through which not much can be seen. 

“Why don’t we eat first?”

Wooyoung, Junsu and Chansung look at Taecyeon, who’s sitting at the head of the table now that all packages have been opened and they can start eating. He looks beaten despite trying hard to hide it; he’s usually the one who talks to their managers and people at the company, so the stress is taking its toll on him. Postponing the discussion instead of laughing it off or making them just drop it makes Wooyoung wonder if he’s not the only one regretting the fact that the six--five present ones--of them haven't been able to really talk about this like they usually do about most problems. They would lay it on the line, fight if need be, but at least, it would be resolved. He almost wished they could do that now, but he doubts they're working this out without Nichkhun to help.

As they eat, the silence stretches around the table except for a few comments about the food, until Chansung can’t stand the awkwardness and tries to steal some of Wooyoung’s chicken, who slaps at his hand and scolds him for being a bad maknae in spite of his previous yet fake offer. Taecyeon chuckles silently at the pair of them, Junsu smiles as if he’d like to join in their bickering, and Junho acts like it has nothing to do with him, though Wooyoung feels his piercing stare now and then. 

Once it seems that they’re all satisfied and Chansung is the only one still eating—more like picking at the remains on his plate, really—Junsu gets beer from the fridge. Taecyeon was about to do that, but the older one pressed his shoulder down in a gentle refusal and that was it. Wooyoung muses about how much they’ve been taking care of each other; the hyung they’ve always taunted for being lazy and not much of a hyung in the common sense of the word is silently trying to make them cheer up, even if alcohol is dangerous, and Wooyoung never looks forward to dealing with a pair of drunk maknaes once the other two go back to their respective houses.

He wants to be optimistic and think, okay, maybe we’re not really falling apart, not yet, but he’ll leave that to Chansung. He might have said the same about Taecyeon or Junho, but he’s not so sure about either anymore, much less the latter, who’s been too serious and on edge after the press decided it would be a good thing to wonder which 2PM member might be the next one to leave. 

Wooyoung recognizes the feeling and knows he’s got some of it within himself, too, but he’s trying not to focus on that. Give attention to what the press says and it’ll break you faster than reality might. Maybe what’s troubling Junho is the possibility of it happening yet again—and none of them wants that. Of course, nobody expected a second time to come and kick at them this way, but—what if—it’s not really in their hands? Or maybe it is? Does anyone else ever think of quitting for real? Not in those passing moments of desperation, where too much feels like too much, where they’re dead tired or bleeding or hospitalized or all at once, but—

Those are not his own doubts, though. He knows why Nichkhun left and he knows that he didn’t really want to, and that he would have stayed, given the chance. His certainty wavers and his subconscious whispers, But it didn’t have to be this way, he could have at least talked to you, he could have given you a chance as well… He’s learned to refrain from following that line of thought. He’ll go crazy if he does.

They drink silently for a while. Wooyoung gives more attention to peeling off the label of his bottle than enjoying its contents; he does the same with Chansung’s once he's finished with it. He notices that Junho’s breathing has changed only because it’s also quiet, now, and he guesses it’ll only take him another bottle to fall asleep right there. He nods at Junsu, who nudges Junho’s arm quite rudely. 

“Junho-ah! It’s not time to sleep yet! Don’t be rude to your guests!”

That last word, despite it being a joke, has Junho frowning at their hyung. “You’re only a guest here because you chose to be.”

There’s an awkward silence and then Taecyeon snorts, not because it's funny--it isn't--, but because they’ve been through this many times already. Junsu could say he has to stick by his family, that the five of them here have been suffocating each other with worry and bitterness even though it’s just a phase and they’ll eventually adjust to this new state—in which they’re not six, in which they should have been seven—but Junsu doesn’t say anything. It’s not necessary.

“I’m sorry,” Junho says as he grabs Junsu’s hand, and he does look apologetic. He’s not the kind to admit when he feels so, which only makes it more awkward. Wooyoung thinks he’s getting too serious about this whole thing, and that the apology might lead to something worse later. 

Taecyeon takes a deep breath. “Well, guys." He waits for them to look at him. "Juseob hyung says we’re not gonna cancel any more concerts, that we’re doing too well in Japan to stop now.” The change of topic is as convenient as it’s been expected; their weekly gatherings usually end up with possibilities being discussed and decisions being made, or just announced. “We might have to adjust the choreography of some songs, but…” 

“Might?” Chansung asks, at which the other just looks at him for a second before he opens his mouth to speak again, but isn't given the chance.

“So we’ll… continue? As five?” Wooyoung’s surprised at hearing his own voice.

“You don’t sound too excited,” and Junho doesn’t sound sleepy at all.

Wooyoung stares at Junho for a long time until the other looks away. “If you’re gonna accuse me of something, just come out and say it. But, if you prefer to believe what a damn article has to say, let me tell you something,” Chansung is shaking his head at him and Wooyoung has to ignore the strength with which his wrist is held by the other. “Out of the five of us here, I thinkyou’d be the next one. Happy now?”

“What—" Junsu’s reaction is cut off by Junho standing up so abruptly his chair falls to the floor. Everyone basically freezes for a second, because it looks like he is either going to shout a nice comeback at Wooyoung or try to hit him. His reaction doesn't shock Wooyoung as much as the realization that he did say that out loud, that he gave in to Junho's silent probing the worst way possible.

Sometimes Wooyoung forgets that Junho’s not the maknae only because he’s a few weeks older than Chansung. The way he acts is often misleading, just as the smiles and grins he shows so much in front of the cameras. Now though, when Junho rests his hands on the table and Junsu puts his chair back in place and makes him sit down and hugs him, Wooyoung is reminded that he is the hyung between the two of them. That Junho deals with hurt differently from him, as does each of them. That there’s a reason some things shouldn’t be voiced.

Chansung lets go of his wrist only to grip at his hand for a second before letting that go too. Wooyoung doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he still welcomes the gesture. Taecyeon looks torn between the two sides of the table and then Chansung is touching his arm, too, looking at him as if to say that everything’s going to be alright. Wooyoung might have laughed at the notion if he didn’t live with Chansung and Junho; he reckons one will talk to the other and somehow fix this. Orwould, since Junho has disentangled from Junsu’s arms to look at Wooyoung again.

“Is that what you really think?” Junho asks, not accusingly, not even angry; and Wooyoung knows the other’s taken his words to heart when he doesn’t even shake it off with a grin or a smile. 

“You care too much about what other people think,” Wooyoung says, trying to soften his voice but still unsatisfied with how he said that. “You try to hide it, but you can't. You care so much, you actually believe we agree with that stupid article, right? That you’re so selfish, your behavior is so inappropriate, you think so high of your own talents, of course you’d go solo even if that meant leaving 2PM.” He hopes the sarcasm will make Junho realize how much Wooyoung despises what they’ve all had to read that day. The fact that nobody has told him to shut up yet makes him think that maybe he did it the right way, if there’s a right way of making one of your best friends cry.

“Junho-ah,” Chansung has stood up and circled the table to sit at Junho’s other side. Wooyoung feels slightly guilty, but he still thinks they all need this; he’s had enough of being quiet and avoiding the others. 

Junsu is shaking his head at him though, and Wooyoung sighs. “Look, I know nobody wants this, okay? It’s not as if Nichkhun wanted to leave either.”

“He resigned!” Junho sounds angry again, but Chansung shakes his head at him and Junho scoffs at the maknae. “Oh no, you don’t get to make me shut up this time, Chansung. I’m sick of you protecting everybody.”

Taecyeon’s almost inaudible chuckle makes them all look at him again. “Don’t you see, Nuneo? He’s protecting you, too.” He nods at Chansung, silent approval in his ghostly smile. “He’s doing what he can to avoid a fight, because we’ll all regret this, no matter how good it feels to let some things out,” he looks at Wooyoung for a second, then at Junho again. “I know you don’t want to leave us, goddamnit. We’ve always trusted each other, and it’s not gonna change because Nichkhun’s not here with us now. He’ll come back. I know he will.”

“You can’t know that,” but Junho’s agitation has turned to uncertainty and even some semblance of hope, if the look on his face can be trusted.

“I know him, and I know you guys. If you still want to believe the press, then believe what we saw the day Nichkhun left: that picture of him at the airport. Do you remember?” He pauses. Junho looks at Wooyoung, then back at Taecyeon, and nods. Their toothy cat’s mouth curves up a little. “Then, I don’t see why you’d think Nichkhun really wanted to leave.”

“He didn’t want to,” Wooyoung whispers because he sometimes needs to remind himself of that too. Junho looks as if he’d like to say something but he holds it back, be it because of what Taecyeon said or the way Chansung’s rubbing at the nape of his neck. Junsu’s also tapping Junho’s shoulder gently, but his gaze is fixed on Wooyoung, who gets the message: he’d be the victim if their hyung were sitting next to him now. Wooyoung almost smiles at him then, but Junsu nods as if they’ve just talked, and it’s probably enough.

Taecyeon opens another bottle of beer, holds it up at them as if to settle the argument, and gets back to drinking.

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It’s not settled, though.

Wooyoung knows this. It’s not like Junho to let things go that easily. As the minutes went by, Wooyoung kept expecting him to lash out, to say anything that would bring up the subject again… but he didn’t. Wooyoung isn’t sure if it’s for the sake of the others or himself. Maybe it’s both. 

Wooyoung realizes he should have said things a bit differently so it wouldn’t seem as if he actually believed Junho would ever leave the group, because he doesn’t. He doesn’t think anyone of them wants to do that, no matter what opportunities they could have outside of 2PM. They just need some time. They’re just trying to recover from this—this temporary loss. 

What Taecyeon said keeps echoing in his mind. That picture… He remembers how sad Nichkhun looked, how unexpected and unfair it had all been, how he was wearing Wooyoung’s shirt, what he himself felt when he looked at his friend, his forbidden lover, the one who thought Wooyoung wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings.

Sometimes he thinks, would he have left if he knew? 

However, Wooyoung also remembers that Nichkhun didn’t give him the opportunity to say that, to argue about him leaving, to convince him to stay. That day, when the five of them woke up to chaos and the only thing Wooyoung had as some kind of explanation was a letter, he wanted to find Nichkhun and tell him the truth. He looked for him, went to the airport even though he knew the plane had already taken off, booked a flight to Thailand because that was the only place Nichkhun could have gone to—but then his sister called, and his family didn’t know where he was, either. It didn’t make sense. Sometimes, Wooyoung doubted her words, but some time later, Nichkhun’s parents would call them to ask if they knew their son's whereabouts, and Wooyoung didn’t want to believe they would lie. As the weeks went by, there were days when they called to say that Nichkhun was in this or that country, far from reach, far from wanting to be reached. Wooyoung often felt angry at him for ignoring all their attempts at talking, and at those moments he understood Junho more than he was usually willing to. 

Which is probably why he decides to talk to Junho after Taecyeon and Junsu leave the dorm. 

Wooyoung’s just finished helping Chansung put everything away when the resolution wins against his wanting to avoid another confrontation. The maknae looks tired and worried, and Wooyoung feels he should let him know he doesn’t have to try to fix things up this time.

“I’ll talk to him,” he says simply, and Chansung’s lips part for a second or two before they’re closed into a thin smile. He walks past Wooyoung and nods him good night. As he leaves the kitchen, he shoots a glance at the curled up figure on the couch, but then he goes to his room and Wooyoung is left to handle his own decision. 

He takes a deep breath, goes to the living room and sits on the small space left on the couch. Wooyoung stares at the other, whose eyes are closed, breathing soft. He might be sleeping, but then again, he might not. Junho came to the living room long before Taecyeon and Junsu left, and Wooyoung suspects he was sulking but trying not to. If he were too sore, though, he would have gone to his room and closed the door, but his staying nearby tells Wooyoung he may not be wrong in approaching him. 

“Junho-ah.” Wooyoung waits until the other opens his eyes to look his way, though there isn’t much difference from when they were closed. He tries to keep calm because this is Junho; they call each other twins and it goes beyond mere words. Despite their often clashing personalities, there’s no need to be a gap between them. If there is, one of them should reach out and Wooyoung reckons it’s his turn to do that. He starts by pinching the skin on the dorsum of Junho's right foot, which makes him almost kick Wooyoung when he sits up abruptly, very awake now.

“What was that for?” he asks through a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes even as they turn into half moons. When Wooyoung just shrugs, he relaxes a little, leans his back against the couch and looks sideways at him. He seems to be reading Wooyoung, who’s often bothered by his searching eyes, though now he even looks back at Junho. The latter sighs, looks down at his own hands, and frowns. “I know you’re hiding something, Wooyoung.”

He’s not blaming him for that, not anymore. He’s not even asking him to say what it is, he’s just—Wooyoung can see that now—trying to justify his behavior. Maybe he’d have cornered Wooyoung at the dinner table right after the latter asked if they’d really go on without Nichkhun, if only Wooyoung hadn’t cornered him first. “And you’d like me to tell you,” Wooyoung finishes,because you’re worried, and because you’re jealous that Chansung handles my silence better than you do. But this is not a competition, and if anything we're all losing. 

“It’s just…” Junho’s eyebrows are drawn together again, and Wooyoung touches the tip of a finger to his forehead. Junho side-eyes him again, probably finding the sudden touch odd coming from him, but Wooyoung hopes he’ll see that for what it is. “You’ve basically shut us all out, but sometimes, when we talk about Nichkhun…it’s like you know something, and I think you want to talk about it, but at the same time you don’t.”

Wooyoung breathes in heavily. He slides down the couch as the air comes out, his face now at the same level as Junho’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he says, looking at the screen of the TV, which is turned off. He can see both of them reflected there, and Junho’s eyes, though barely open, are still focused on him. They keep silent for a long time and Wooyoung takes that as some kind of non-pressure for him to go on if he wants to: Junho might not ask questions, but he won’t help him by speaking first or pretending he’s not interested, either. “Nichkhun didn’t really talk to me before he left, but I was… I was the last one to see him.”

Junho’s head tilts to the right just slightly, but it’s the way he grips at his own hands that makes Wooyoung’s eyes go from the screen to his friend’s face. Wooyoung’s speaking so softly he might seem calm or even detached, but Junho’s lips form a thin line when they look at each other, and the older one suspects that what’s not in his voice is probably in his gaze. 

“I kept asking him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t tell me, and I didn’t know…! I didn’t know he was going to leave. But I should have found out. He was…” Wooyoung can’t make himself say it. Nichkhun was crying so much, and despite everything, he doesn’t want to expose him like that to Junho. He hopes Junho won’t wonder too much about his reticence and he takes another deep breath. “I should have stopped him, found him, brought him back…”

Junho grasps his wrist and squeezes around his hand once, but doesn’t let go. “You don’t need—” He frowns as if to search for the right words, and Wooyoung finds himself wondering, too: no need to feel guilty? to apologize? to tell you all this? But isn’t that what you’ve been asking for, Junho? Wooyoung dislikes the feeling that they’re both walking on thin ice, but at least it’s better than being stubbornly cold or unnecessarily aggressive. He’s trying to open up, and Junho is trying to be understanding, although the latter is more likely to happen in the future, when Nichkhun comes back--No if’s. He will. He will. Junho’s eyes are fixed on his hand still covering Wooyoung’s wrist, but then his fingers recoil and he looks at a spot between the pair of them. “You’ve tried… We’ve all been trying. I can’t tell you not to act like you miss him more than we do, but… that’s what it seems.”

Wooyoung’s lips curve up slightly. This, he can deal with. This, he knows. Junho doesn’t want to accept the idea of one of them being missed more than the others, just like he can’t accept that there might be one of them hurting more than the others. “That’s not how it works, Junho. We’re different, that’s all.”

Junho shakes his head, not to deny what Wooyoung said, but because it’s more than that. “Would you miss me?”

In many other occasions, Wooyoung might have hit him--albeit playfully. He might have laughed or rolled his eyes at him, made a joke out of it, anything to preserve the idea that this-is-not-really-serious or I-don’t-care. But it is, and he does, so he might as well just say it, even if he sounds teasing in the end. “It was stupid. I didn’t think you’d react so badly. But, if you still want to fight about it, come on. It’s not like I’d be able to sleep anyway.”

This time, Junho’s smile is also on the corner of his eyes. 

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Once he’s in front of the house, Nichkhun doesn’t know what to do. Maybe he should have called before coming here, maybe he shouldn’t have come at all; maybe there’s nobody home and then he’ll go somewhere else to dwell on his thoughtless actions. 

He opts to ring the bell and see what happens. An elderly woman’s voice answers, asking who it is.

“It’s—Nichkhun. I’m a friend of Jay’s.”

“Nichkhun?” She sounds surprised, but as she speaks he gets to recognizing her as well. “Nichkhun-sshi, just wait a moment, okay?”

He unloads the backpack he’s been carrying on his shoulders, and more weight is lifted off as he sees Jay’s mother walking his way, a welcoming smile on her face. She opens the gate and her arms, and Nichkhun is more than glad to hug her. He misses his own mother and his family, so maybe the hug lasts a little too long, but Mrs. Park is still smiling kindly at him when they break apart.

“Jay didn’t know you were coming, right? You nearly missed him.”

She motions for him to come inside and he does, following her up the stairs that lead to the front door. As they chat, she asks if he’s eaten, if he will stay long, if he’s got news about the others… Nichkhun realizes she probably doesn’t know about his resigning from the group so he answers her questions as lightly as he can. 

Mrs. Park tells him Jay's getting ready to go to Korea the next day; he's got a new album coming out and promotions to do. She asks if they—2PM and Jay—would have time to meet despite their coming and going to Japan and other countries, and Nichkhun says that he doesn't know; he would doubt it even if he were in touch with the others. Although they've talked now and then on the phone, they don't really get together with Jay anymore. He doesn't tell her that, but the way she looks at him says he doesn’t need to. The fact that she still welcomes him here makes Nichkhun a little uncomfortable, yet all the more grateful.

"Mom, you didn't tell me who—oh man! I can't believe this!" Jay's smile seems to warrant his words instead of contradicting them. He pulls Nichkhun into a short, manly hug that's more a patting on the back than anything else. He laughs and then punches the Thai on the shoulder. "You bastard, what are you even doing here? Not that I'm complaining—I know that you've—wait, let's go to my room. Mom, we'll get back here once lunch's ready, okay?"

Nichkhun is still lost as to how he should react to Jay's reception when the latter drags him upstairs and into his room, closing the door behind him. Jay gestures for him to drop the bag on the floor and then they stare at each other awkwardly until the older one cackles.

"So Buck's here. Haha, Taec's gonna freak out once he knows—"

The words are out of his mouth before he can even think. "He's not supposed—"

"Why not?"

"Jay—"

"Listen," he makes Nichkhun sit on his bed, drags the wheeled chair that's near the computer and sits in front of him. "I see you're pretty much okay so I'll just cut to the chase. I've been talking to the guys since you vanished—"

"What?"

"Don't worry, I'm not taking your place," Jay's half grin is so quick he doesn't give time for Nichkhun to tell him he's not concerned about that. "They're really worried about you, man. I mean, you just ing disappeared! What is this about resigning from 2PM? The hell did you do?"

"I—" Nichkhun swallows. Besides Jay's way of talking, which feels like he's shooting at him, he has no idea how to answer that last question. "I got—involved with—a friend..."

Jay raises an eyebrow at him. "Someone famous?"

That makes him pause. "You might say that..."

Jay snorts. "Come on, Nichkhun, just give me the name."

Nichkhun frowns; he was not prepared for being asked about that, either. "I don't think—Jay, can we skip that for now?"

Jay's curved eyebrow seems to be inspecting him. "You're not getting away that easily, okay? Oh, and since I've said that—Don't you dare disappear again.” He punches Nickhun’s arm as if to reinforce the "order". “Though I'd say I'm surprised you showed up at my place. D'you know I'm going to Korea tomorrow?"

Nichkhun shakes his head. "Your mom just told me about it."

"Why did you come here, then? Thought I’d give you shelter?"

"No. I was actually... I just wanted to talk to you, because I've been thinking about... going back..."

Jay’s other eyebrow joins the first one. "So you want to talk to me but you don't wanna tell me things? Ha! And there's no thinking to do anymore, I'm getting your back to Korea whether you like it or not."

"Jay—"

His sigh is so deep that Nichkhun remains silent while the other seems to gather his thoughts. "Things have been hard enough for all of us—all of you, so don't complicate what's actually very simple: those guys need you. They don't know why you left, I think you've just told me more than they know, and it's—"

"The company doesn't want me there, Jay."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that..." he's about to say something else, but Nichkhun goes on.

"They didn't really give me a choice. Either I left or..." He can't say it. The thought of Wooyoung having to give up on his dream still angers him. 

Jay frowns. "I don't understand. There wasn't a scandal. Or was there? I don't remember seeing anything, and the guys—"

"There wasn't a scandal. And you’re right; they don't know. If they do, it's not much, and they're probably not sure about it, unless Wooyoung—" 

"Wooyoung? So he knows about—”

"No, Jay, it's not like that. I mean—"

"Junsu says he's been pretty quiet lately."

"Really?" Nichkhun can't keep the worry off his voice. He didn’t mean to bring up Wooyoung’s name like that, but he also reckons his friend ought to know sooner or later.

Jay frowns at him. "Come on, what happened?"

Nichkhun sighs. "I... I fell in love, Jay." 

“Yeah, I got that. Still not enough reason to make so much drama.”

Nichkhun has to look down and shake his head as he almost smiles. of course, Jay didn’t understand that Wooyoung was the one. He probably wouldn’t get it until it was clear in front of him. 

“Don’t even try to make up excuses not to go—you just said there wasn’t a scandal, right?”

“No, but there might—”

“Did the fans turn their back on you?”

“I think—”

“Did thousands of people sign a petition for you to commit suicide?”

Nichkhun shuts up because he can’t say anything to that and it seems that Jay wouldn’t be willing to hear it either. They’re silent for quite some time, until Jay sighs, pats at Nichkhun’s arm in what is probably meant to be reassurance and they both relax a little.

“They ing love you, man.”

Nichkhun’s smile is bitter. That could always change way too easily. “They think I’m perfect. They expect me to be.”

“Yeah,” Jay knows. More than anyone else, he knows. “I know it’s not everybody, but damn, they’re delusional. They’ll accept like Idol Army, We Got Married, y stages with girls, and even two guys kissing,” he makes a face at that, though it’s a half-hearted one, “as long as it’s not real. As long as it’s for the show. But real life? Idols are not supposed to keep up with that.”

Nichkhun knows he might be generalizing and going a little too far, but he doesn’t interrupt Jay. He doesn’t think he has the right to argue with him about that, as much as Jay probably doesn’t have the right to be so wise and adamant about getting Nichkhun back to Korea, but—having the right or not, he is right. Nichkhun has already said he wants to come back, he just needs some encouraging, and Jay is doing that in his own way. 

And Jay is still not done. “So no matter who you fell in love with—”

“Wooyoung…” Nichkhun is very conscious of saying that name now. 

“Yeah, what about him? He’s had a couple of secret girlfriends, right? But no drama, so don’t compare yourself to him.”

Nichkhun looks at Jay, and smiles at how oblivious he is to the meaning behind that utterance. People are blind to what they don’t want to see, deaf to what they don’t want to hear, and surprisingly silent about things they should actually talk about. “I’m in love with Wooyoung,” he says, before he loses the courage to do so.

“Aw man, don’t tell me you’ve become a homo?” he jokes, before it sinks in, before he realizes Nichkhun won't laugh this off. They stare at each other for quite some time then, and Jay finally looks serious. “Aw, man…” he repeats, but then he pats Nichkhun on the shoulder, and the latter manages a rueful smile. “Please don’t get into details or I swear to god I’ll kick your over the Pacific, but I hope you ed his brains out before leaving ‘cuz if you dared cause this much trouble for platonicfeelings—”

“I did him.”

“Oh , shut up, I just told you I don’t want to hear it!”

Nichkhun almost laughs at his reaction, but waits for him to calm down before going on. “The company found out, Jay. About our—affair. I assume they haven’t told the guys about us, and Wooyoung hasn’t said a thing, either…”

“Did they—did you have to—”

Nichkhun nods.

“.” Jay rakes a hand through his hair, and neither of them speaks for some time. “How dumb are they? To think 2PM would survive another blow like this? That the fans would accept you leaving without an explanation? That the members of the group, our friends, our brothers would let you go without a fight…!”

The lyrics to Don’t Stop Can’t Stop come to mind and Nichkhun smiles a little—at that, and at Jay’s words and choice of possessive pronoun. Whether Jay even realizes the way he said that or not, it’s the feeling that counts. “No one would accept it if my relationship with Wooyoung were to be discovered. Not the media, not the fans, and I’m not even sure—” he doesn’t finish it, but he doesn’t have to, because Jay punches him in the arm, harder than before.

“You’re so stupid. Like, do you even think any of them are still straight as an arrow? Taec could have been saved if he’d remained here, but…” and he grins, because Nichkhun just snorted at his distorted way of being supportive. “Should I call them or will you do it?”

“I’m not sure—”

“Don’t even think of running away again, you hear me? And I’ll just call Taec then. I mean, I don’t want you to give any of them a heart attack, it’s been so long.” Jay looks ready to punch him again for good measure, but he’s already getting his cell phone. 

Nichkhun takes a deep breath and exhales heavily. Time to stop running away—from everything.

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Jay calls Taecyeon right away, regardless of how late it is in Korea and how much sleep is treasured by all of them. He turns the speakerphone on and holds it near their faces. The phone rings about eight times before an incoherent grumble answers it.

“Hey, man,” Jay sounds amused rather than reluctant or serious. Nichkhun feels glad for that. 

“Jay?” 

“The one and only.” He pauses as if to let the other’s consciousness kick in. “You’re sleeping, right? Means you won’t fall and hit your head if I tell you something?”

There’s a rustling sound that might be Taecyeon sitting up on the bed. He takes some time to speak, and when he does his voice is not so sleepy anymore. “You’re too cheerful for this to be bad news, so? What did you wake me up for?”

“Geez, no humor left in you, huh?” Jay’s teasing tone is reflected in the way he’s grinning. Nichkhun smiles, a soundless chuckle coming through. “I’ve got someone with me. Please don’t squeak like a girl, okay?” 

Jay hands him the phone despite the speakerphone being on, silently saying he’s on command right now. Nichkhun falters for a second or two, but the other nudges him on. 

“Taecyeonnie,” Nichkhun says, voice low. He hears Taecyeon’s sharp intake of breath and almost holds his own.

“Nichkhun? You—” he sounds unsure for a moment, “You’re with Jay? How—Where have you been—oh my God, the guys are gonna be so—Are you in the U.S.? Why aren’t you here? Or in Thailand? Your parents—”

“Taec,” Nichkhun interrupts him softly. “My family doesn’t know much, but I call them once in a while to say where I am and assure them everything’s okay.”

“Everything is not okay, how can you—why did you disappear like that? Do you have any idea—”

“Shhh, you giant ball of emotions, listen,” Jay’s holding the phone again and pats Nichkhun on the back while speaking. “Listento me,” he insists, because Taecyeon is still muttering in a mess of English, Korean, and even a little Japanese. When he finally quiets down, Jay goes on. “We called you exactly because we don’t want the others to go through an epiphany. I mean, you may all react badly anyway, but at least you’ll be together for this. Can you do that, man? Gather everyone, don’t say what it’s for, and let me handle this for a while? It’ll be our own Khunspiracy.”

“Funny, Jay. Very funny.”

Jay’s grin is dismissive of any resentment the other might throw at him. “So, you in?”

There’s another moment of silence in which all they hear is the air coming in and out of Taecyeon’s nostrils. Jay seems about to make another jest when he finally speaks. “Sure. I mean—” he pauses. “You’re gonna talk to us? Did you tell Khun that JYPE wants him back?”

“You just saved me the trouble.” Nichkhun gapes at him but Jay puts a finger to his own lips; the Thai is befuddled enough not to voice all his questions right then, anyway. “But um, yes, we’ll call you and—actually, you’ll have to do it, because I don’t know when you kids will be ready…”

“Got it.” The way Taecyeon clears his throat after that tells them he’s still not in the mood to joke. “Khunnie? You still there?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t hide from us anymore, okay? I bet Jay won’t let you do that, but still. Don’t ever doubt your place here. You’re 2PM’s Buck.”

“Thank you, Taec,” is all he manages to say before the oldest one cuts in again.

“Heck, let’s not get sappy, you two.” Nichkhun suspects he’s not the only one whom Taecyeon’s words got at. “Talk to you later, Taec,” and Jay hangs up.

Nichkhun puts an arm around his shoulders. He doesn’t mention it, but he grasps what’s in the air, the way Jay looks at the phone before pocketing it.

He asks what Taecyeon meant about JYPE instead, and Jay asks him about what he's done since departing from Korea. 

It feels good to talk.

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