There’s a sharp burn in his throat when Jongdae wakes up and his tongue feels like cotton in his mouth. His head is pounding and even the slightest jostle sends a wave of dizziness through him. He tries to open his eyes but everything is blurry and it feels like too much effort. He’s shivering and he struggles weakly with the blanket he finds on him. His body screams with fatigue and pain and he twists around on the mattress with discomfort. His ears are blocked, his head is on fire and Jongdae whines deliriously against the pillow.

His throat feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow with a wince and he reaches out an arm to the side blindly, searching desperately for water. Instead, his fingers curl around something else and he drags his arm back, shaking from the chills. He cracks his eyes open again, fumbling with the object and flinches when he hits a button that turns on the stark bright light of his phone.

Jongdae feels too dizzy to even figure out what he’s doing until he hears a tiny beeping sound and he realizes he’s calling someone. He clumsily pulls the phone by his ear, teeth chattering as tremors wrack through his body and it feels like hours have passed.

“Yifan? Did something happen, did he get worse? Yifan?”

“Hyung,” Jongdae rasps out, his throat burning and painfully scratchy. He lets his eyes slide shut again and waits anxiously to hear that soothing voice again.

“Jongdae?” Junmyeon’s voice softens, “is your fever worse? You should be resting; are the others-?”

“I miss you,” Jongdae mumbles and his tongue feels heavy.

There’s a pause before the reply crackles through the line, “I…miss you too.”

His head is hammering painfully and he almost whimpers into the speaker.

“You should be here,” he slurs, dragging the words out drowsily, “Why aren’t you here, hyung?”

“Jongdae, I-”

“I need you here,” Jongdae mumbles and he barely understands his own words but they just keep coming as he spills his jumbled thoughts, “You’re too far, why are you so far? Why couldn’t you be here, I need you,” he half sobs from the fresh wave of pain and aches that tighten his chest and pound on his brain, “Have you abandoned me, hyung?”

Jongdae barely finishes the sentence, slurring heavily through the fog or drowsiness washing over him. He’s so tired. His hand drops weakly and the phone slides away from his ear. He thinks he might have heard a voice on the other end of the line again, maybe it’s just echoing in his ears or maybe he’s still dreaming; he can’t be sure. He falls asleep again.


-


Dance practice is as grueling as ever today and Junmyeon flops bonelessly on the couch when they finally get back to the dorms in the evening. He feels particularly spent after not getting a wink of sleep the night before.

He was still reeling for hours after Jongdae had fallen asleep on the other end of the line, effectively ending their call. Jongdae may have been delirious from the fever but his words struck him like a scalding knife to the chest. He’d spent the whole night tossing in bed, plagued by the guilt that surfaced again at Jongdae’s almost incoherent pleas. He’d stared up at the ceiling through the darkness, drowning in the suffocating ache of yearning that brimmed with bouts of infuriation. Everything hurt and he got no peace or rest.

Junmyeon is pulled out of his thoughts when he feels a vibration in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He shifts to pull out his phone groaning at the ache in his tired muscles. There’s a Line message displayed on his screen and he doesn’t even have to check the sender to know that it’s Jongdae.

“Yifan told me he called you yesterday to tell you what happened, sorry for worrying you. My fever broke and I’m well hydrated now so they’re letting me out today! Just thought I should let you know myself this time, I haven’t gotten to my phone since they brought me here.”

Junmyeon blinks at the message, slightly puzzled by the last few lines but relieved at the news and he keys in a reply, “Glad you’re better, make sure you take care of yourself properly now!”

“Wish you were here haha, I miss your soups, aah why do you have to be so far away! Ugh my head is spinning; I don’t remember a thing before this morning, it's crazy. Oh they’re discharging me now so I have to go, I’ll talk to you later hyung!”

Junmyeon freezes at the words.

Jongdae doesn’t even remember talking to him at all the day before. He must not remember telling him any of those things through the fever. He doesn’t remember a thing and it makes Junmyeon feel irrationally angry that he still has the memory in his mind while Jongdae can laugh it off. And he’s angry that Jongdae even put it there in the first place. The words hit him again like a freight train and the ache in his chest is back.

For a moment, Junmyeon lets a bout of guilt well up inside him again but then it suddenly hits him and he realizes angrily that  no; he’s not the one who put all this distance between them. He’s not the one who should be feeling bad about not being by the other’s side.

And maybe it’s because he still feels raw and bitter from the other night or maybe it’s been a long time coming but something dark and ugly deep inside of him snaps.

It’s the breaking point for every pent up frustration and all the misery he’s been trying to fight for so long because he’d convinced himself he had no right. For every second he’s spend missing Jongdae and beating himself up over his own inadequacies for being left behind. For every moment he’d spent berating himself over feelings he argued he had no right to feel.

So for Jongdae to actually say this to him again, now that his words are completely lucid, is the final straw and Junmyeon can’t do this anymore. His hands are shaking so hard that the letters on the screen blur into each other. Every pent up emotion he’s kept repressed comes rushing out in one giant wave and he’s beside himself. He’s mad at Jongdae and every disorienting thing he’s ever made him feel about any part of his life that he’s somehow involved in. He catches sight of the words on his phone again and he turns it over roughly to rip off the cover and yank the battery out, angry tears springing to his eyes.

Junmyeon tosses the pieces aside and wonders savagely if it will finally hurt less if he just stops trying and cuts himself off completely from him.


-


The days pass by quickly, one schedule blurring into another. They trudge back into the dorms late at night every day, aching and sore, feeling the exhaustion in their bones. They all want nothing more than a hot shower and their bed.

Junmyeon becomes withdrawn, sullen. The dark rings are more pronounced under his eyes and his cheekbones jut out more starkly again. He smiles when he needs to and speaks when he’s expected to. He helps the other members and offers an ear when they ask for it, ever the responsible leader, but his smile slips when he thinks no one’s looking and the hollow look in his eyes is unmissable.

His phone is constantly active, the screen coming to life every so often with a new message or notification. But Junmyeon sweeps his eyes across the screen vacantly and turns it off without so much as a second glance. Just like he’s done for the past week since his last conversation with Jongdae. He ignores every message that comes through, throwing himself into his work twice as hard just so he doesn’t allow himself any moment of weakness. He’s still angry, he’s still hurt and it spurs him on into maintaining this new distance.

He notices Kyungsoo’s eyes on him at times, catching him in the act, but he can’t bring himself to care. So he carries on as though things are perfectly normal and unperturbed.

There’s already a week’s worth of accumulated texts, unread messages and unopened pictures cluttering his phone. It goes on until eventually the screen lights up less and less frequently with every day that passes; hours filling in the spaces between messages where there used to be minutes.

It’s late in the afternoon, a week later, when the first text of the day comes in. Junmyeon’s phone lies on the table as he sorts through a basket full of freshly cleaned clothes, searching for his own. His eyes flicker for a moment towards the screen before turning away, his brows tugging downwards, like they always do.

He flips the phone face down on the table obstinately and gathers his pile in his arms before trudging to his room. He can feel a familiar pair of eyes following but he pays no mind. He drops the tangled bundle onto his bed and tugs at a loose sleeve, pretending not to hear the footsteps behind him and the sound of the door being locked.

Still, Junmyeon pays no heed, stubbornly keeping his back to the door and works on separating the clothes from each other in silence. Kyungsoo seems to have had enough after a while though.

“What are you doing?”

“Folding the clothes.”

Kyungsoo folds his arms grimly and patiently takes a deep breath, “Are you ever going to answer his texts?”

Junmyeon says nothing and keeps his back turned towards Kyungsoo, busying himself with the clothes. Kyungsoo moves closer, voice softening, “You were never like this with Kyuhyun.”

“That was different,” Junmyeon retorts gruffly, aggressively smoothing out the sleeves of an unfamiliar pullover that he had pulled out.

“How was it different?” Kyungsoo probes.

“Because Kyuhyun had to go to China.”

“Well, didn’t Jongdae have to go too?”

“No, he didn’t!” Junmyeon throws down the pullover he’s struggling with, startling Kyungsoo with his raised voice. “He didn’t have to go; he chose to go! He volunteered to join Exo M; he chose to leave, to leave home, to leave-!” Me, Junmyeon thinks hollowly. He swallows thickly – he has no right; Jongdae was never tied to him. He never owed him anything because all he’d been granted was the friendship that Jongdae gave, for as long as he offered it. But Junmyeon still feels bitter, unable to shake off the lousy feeling of being left behind. He’s all too familiar with that already.

“Jongdae’s different,” he grits out.

“He is,” Kyungsoo answers simply, looking at Junmyeon carefully. His tone is probing, as though trying to coax him into continuing on that thought. He looks at Junmyeon with raised eyebrows and expectant eyes. When he says nothing, Kyungsoo huffs, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“He’s your best friend and you’re being unreasonable and stubborn. Just talk to Jongdae and fix it!”

“It’s not that simple, Kyungsoo!” Junmyeon feels his patience fraying and he makes a grab at the pullover he thrown aside again.

“It really shouldn’t be that difficult, he’s-”

“He’s more, dammit!” Junmyeon wrings his hands in the material, biting the inside of his cheek in an effort not to scream because Kyungsoo doesn’t understand.

“He’s more than… he’s not a friend he’s-”

“I know.”

Kyungsoo’s voice is calm, his expression composed. Junmyeon stares at him, confused, uncertain of the sure look he sees in his eyes.

“What?”

“I said, I know,” Kyungsoo says simply, as though it’s completely obvious, “so fix it.”

Junmyeon eyes him, staggered but then his expression tightens again feeling the wave of frustration and hurt swell up inside him again. “I wasn’t even the one who broke it in the first place,” he mutters irritably, picking at a loose thread on the material in his hands.

“Bull, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo starts making his way out of the room, “both of you had a part in it.”

He pulls the door open to leave but then he turns, “That’s Jongdae’s pullover, by the way,” and with that he leaves the room.

Junmyeon glares at the offending garment in his hands angrily. How was he supposed to explain it to Kyungsoo?

With Kyuhyun, he’d had time to build up a friendship slowly, to take it step by step into getting to know each other and he’d had time to savor it; years of it. They grew close and it was hard to separate and be apart when Kyuhyun had to travel far for a promotion schedule with Super Junior-M. But he’d had years to get used to the friendship and they’d been separated and reunited enough times for him to get the reassurance that he needed; to know that Kyuhyun would still come back.

Jongdae came into his life and took it by storm with half a second to spare. Never in his life had Junmyeon ever gotten so irrevocably attached so quickly. The few months they spent together felt like the long years he’d spent with everyone else at the company and it baffled him.

They had clicked so well, falling into place with each other so easily; effortlessly. Until, out of nowhere, Jongdae just ripped himself away from his side and suddenly the months seemed like a second where Jongdae had drifted in with the bombshell he dropped on Junmyeon’s life and drifted right back out the next second, impossibly fast. Just like that, Jongdae was gone, off in another country across the sea and jarring separation left him reeling. He had tried to adjust back into his life before Jongdae came in except he couldn’t remember how. It felt like Jongdae had invaded every aspect of his life and left him stranded when he was gone.

It confused him; for the longest time it confused him and he wondered why he’d never felt this lost whenever Kyuhyun would leave. Because leaving always hurt but this one hurt far more than it should have; more than it ever did with anyone who’d ever left him and Junmyeon finally realized that he’d never felt for anyone as strongly as he felt for Jongdae. What he felt was far beyond his friendship with Kyuhyun; with anyone. It was far beyond a friendship.


-


Jongdae glances at his phone for the umpteenth time that day, staring wistfully at the screen. He slumps again miserably when nothing shows up. His phone has been silent for over a week now; he hasn’t gotten a single reply to any of his messages and texts and it feels like contact has been cut off completely.

At first, Jongdae had thought that maybe Junmyeon was too busy or too tired to get to his phone but it’s been more than a week now and Jongdae knows that Yifan has talked to him at least three times in the past few days. He stares at his phone dejectedly, as though if he stared hard enough then something might pop up. But, of course, nothing happens. He lets the device slip through his fingers, dropping it on the mattress on the floor.

He doesn’t even hear the door open behind him.

The wood of the bedframe creaks when another weight settles down next to Jongdae and he startles for a moment before seeing that it’s Luhan. He lowers his head again, staring at his empty hands curled loosely on his lap.

“Hey,” Luhan says softly, nudging his shoulder gently against Jongdae’s. He doesn’t respond.

Luhan waits patiently, shifting closer so their thighs are pressed up together in an act of warmth and comfort. Jongdae appreciates it; it keeps him somewhat anchored before he loses himself in his plaguing thoughts. Luhan always did have a steady presence.

“I really wanted this, you know. I thought I needed this,” Jongdae starts, voice barely higher than a murmur. “China seemed so exciting; I thought it would be good for me, to get fresh air in a different place, with new things and new people. New hope,” he feels a twinge in his chest, “to clear my head,” he whispers.

Luhan looks at him intently and waits patiently for Jongdae to continue.

“I finally did it,” Jongdae whispers hollowly, “I finally ed it up and I’m not even there.” He runs a hand through his hair roughly, tugging harshly at the strands. Luhan grabs at his wrist to stop him and wraps a firm arm around Jongdae’s shoulder, pressing him tighter against his side. Jongdae breathes out a shuddering sigh and lets his hand fall limply into his lap again. He drops his head onto Luhan’s shoulder, burying it in the hollow of his neck and Luhan obliges, pressing his cheek into Jongdae’s hair.

“He won’t talk to me,” Jongdae murmurs against his shoulder. He feels Luhan tighten his hold on his frame but he stays silent. He knows Luhan doesn’t even have to ask who ‘he’ is.

“China was exciting, it was fresh and new. Just what I needed. But then it’s like the high wore off and all I could ever think about was being back there instead of here. Stupid,” he mutters to himself, wringing his fingers tightly together.

“I miss him. All the time, every day I miss him,” Jongdae says in a low voice.

“I know,” Luhan answers softly, his hands rubbing circles up Jongdae’s arm.

“He’s my best friend and I just didn’t want to screw it up,” his voice shakes, “except I did anyway because he won’t talk to me.”

Jongdae feels miserable and there’s an ache in his stomach that won’t go away. He’s angry at himself and confused; he doesn’t know where exactly he went and botched it all up; he just knows that hedid do something and ruined everything.

“I messed up,” his voice cracks but he doesn’t cry. Luhan shifts his arm a little to touch his cheek with his fingers, gently.

“I just had to be his best friend back,” Jongdae sighs, “it’s still more than I could have ever asked for.”

“I think you should talk to him,” Luhan says quietly, going back to kneading his hand against his shoulder, “face to face.”

Jongdae pulls away with a frustrated noise, propping his elbows up on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

“I was so sure this wouldn’t happen if I came here. He’s…” he pauses and throws a tentative look at Luhan, watching him carefully, “everything. He’s everything to me,” he says, wondering if Luhan will pick up on what he means and how he’ll react. He had said it so quietly he’s not even sure he was heard.

Luhan’s lips curl up ever so slightly but his expression remains unchanged, looking unsurprised.

“I know,” he says simply, gently.

Oh. Jongdae wonders if he’s always been this transparent or if Luhan understands more than anyone gives him credit for.

Luhan moves to take Jongdae’s hand and links a finger with his own, much like that time weeks ago when they had just settled into the Chinese dorms.

“We’re going back to Korea next week,” Luhan reminds him, “Talk to him then.”

Jongdae looks up at him still feeling uncertain and helpless but Luhan has a reassuring look in his eyes. He nods.


-


Their arrival at the K dorms turns into a raucous celebration with people yelling over each other and pushing through the crowd to pull others into a tight hug. They filter into the lounge where there’s enough space to fit them all in comfortably. The members are eager to catch up with their counterparts, immediately engaging in numerous conversations in small cliques.

Jongdae and Luhan greet Jongin warmly as the boy walks up to them with a brilliant smile. Luhan engages him easily in a discussion filled with laughter and Jongdae allows himself to tune it out as he scours the room. He spots Junmyeon over Jongin’s shoulder, chatting animatedly with Yifan across the room. He wants to go up and talk to him but he’s not really sure how to start a conversation after almost two weeks of nothing. His focus is pulled back to the conversation beside him when Jongin suddenly calls Junmyeon’s name, waving him over.

Junmyeon walks over with a smile, coming to stand next to Jongin. He doesn’t even spare Jongdae a glance. He deflates a little where he stands, hurt. Jongin is asking him something about a cardigan he might have left somewhere in Junmyeon’s room and the elder nods pleasantly, offering to go get it for him, himself.

Jongdae watches him walk away towards his room but he feels rooted to the spot. He stares after him until he’s disappeared behind the bedroom door and then Jongdae wrenches himself away from the lounge and follows after him.

Junmyeon is rifling through his drawers in search of Jongin’s sweater and Jongdae closes the door behind him noiselessly.

“Hyung,” he says quietly. He sees Junmyeon’s shoulders tense up for a second but he doesn’t turn, face still buried in his drawer.

“Won’t you evenlook at me?” Jongdae sighs, miserably.

Junmyeon abandons his search and straightens up, turning stiffly.

“What do you want, Jongdae?” he says coldly.

“To talk!” Jongdae says desperately, “We haven’t talked in over a week.”

Junmyeon narrows his eyes stonily and walks forward, making for the door, “I have to get back to the others,” he says brusquely. Jongdae immediately throws himself in front of the door, barricading it and blocking Junmyeon’s way. Junmyeon glares at him and Jongdae glares back angrily.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he grits out and Junmyeon scoffs, his eyes widening incredulously.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you!” he bites out bitterly.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jongdae’s temper starts to flare up.

“You’re the one who walked away in the first place!” Junmyeon hisses, fists balled up against his sides; “You’re the one who ran, you just left! And you left me behind,” he adds quietly, voice shaking angrily.

“I had to leave dammit!” Jongdae heaves and his eyes are starting to prickle.

“Why?”Junmyeon shouts, “You were fine here, we were best friends, you would’ve been fine so why did you-”

“I left because I’m ing in love with you!” Jongdae yells and his chest heaves painfully at the weight of the sudden confession, feeling like he’s just run a marathon.

Junmyeon gapes at him, shocked, “What-”

“I just…” Jongdae squeezes his eyes shut, reeling from his own outburst, “I’d been thinking about going to China anyway but I was nervous and I was still trying to decide. But then with you ….you were my first friend here and then you were my best friend and then it just… I didn’t really know what it was at first; I just knew I felt something. Something more. And that kind of helped my decision I guess; that I really needed to go leave and go to China.”

He feels bare and vulnerable, having laid everything out like this. He’s panting slightly from his rant and his hands are shaking. He looks up to see Junmyeon staring at him incredulously.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” he starts almost angrily, “Why would you leave because of that?”

Jongdae looks at him strangely, a little taken aback because the answer is so obvious and Junmyeon is making him spell out every painful detail.

“Because they were feelings from my side alone,” he whispers brokenly, unable to meet his eyes.

Junmyeon stares at him dumbstruck

“You are such a ing idiot,” Junmyeon growls incredulously.

Jongdae’s mouth falls open indignantly, “There was nothing else I could do-”

“There was everything you could have done!” Junmyeon retorts, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Jongdae feels a spike of anger flare up in his chest and his eyes burn as he throws back, “Like what Junmyeon, tell me-”

Except he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Junmyeon hooks a hand around his neck and pulls him in to kiss him hard on the mouth.

“Like realize that I’m ing in love with you too,” Junmyeon breathes against his lips and Jongdae shivers.

He raises his eyes disbelievingly and Junmyeon is so close, he could count his eyelashes one by one. Jongdae’s eyebrows knit together on his forehead and he parts his lips to say something because this just can’t be… after all this time…and he’d thought that…

His head is spinning and he’s still reeling, unable to sort out his thoughts through his confused haze. He raises his head, tentative and unsure; like at any moment Junmyeon might laugh in his face and push him away, saying he was just kidding or call him naïve for believing something so far-fetched.

But Junmyeon still has a hand around his neck, his thumb pressed steadily against his nape and he hasn’t moved away. Their noses are brushing lightly and Jongdae finally lifts his eyes up properly to meet Junmyeon’s. His eyes are smoldering and honest but Jongdae sees a flicker mirroring his own disbelief and uncertainty and that’s when the dam inside him breaks and he dares to believe.

“You-” he whispers but he’s cut off again when Junmyeon draws him back in to seal their mouths together. He raises his other hand to cradle Jongdae’s face and this time Jongdae presses back against his lips and bunches his hands tightly in Junmyeon’s shirt like it’s the only thing holding him up. Junmyeon slides his tongue along the seam of his lips and Jongdae’s mouth falls open eagerly with a moan. Heat coils in his stomach when Junmyeon into his mouth, slick lips moving insistently with a sense of urgency, like they’re running out of time and he just can’t get enough.

Jongdae feels lightheaded, hearing his own pulse thundering in his ears. He whines into Junmyeon’s mouth and wraps his arms around his waist to pull them flush against each other, needing him closer, already addicted to his warmth.

They kiss languidly and Jongdae nibbles on Junmyeon’s bottom lip gently, reveling in the delightful sounds he pulls out of Junmyeon’s throat. Jongdae trails his hands up to wind around his neck, tangling his fingers in Junmyeon’s hair and angles his head to deepen the kiss, arching into his chest. Junmyeon wraps his arms around his slim waist, splaying a hand on the small of his back to steady him.

Junmyeon pulls away slightly, just enough to rake his eyes along Jongdae’s face, taking in his swollen lips and half lidded eyes. He blinks slowly and Jongdae doesn’t know how to handle the way Junmyeon is staring at him, affectionate and with an intensity that makes him weak at the knees. Junmyeon nuzzles his cheek with his nose and leans in to press a chaste kiss against his lips before coaxing them apart to flick his tongue into his mouth again. Then he lightly on his tongue and Jongdae swears his chest is going to explode.

Junmyeon nudges him backwards, pushing him up against the closed door behind him without breaking off the kiss. He curls his fingers around Jongdae’s arms wrapped around his neck and pulls them away to pin them above Jongdae’s head, against the door. He keeps both wrists in place easily with one hand, sliding the other one down Jongdae’s side to rest on his hip. Junmyeon on his tongue one more time before moving his lips to the corner of Jongdae’s mouth. He peppers Jongdae’s face with gentle kisses, pressing his lips to his closed eyelids, his cheekbone and the soft skin beside Jongdae’s lips before trailing then down along his jaw. Jongdae’s breath hitches when Junmyeon latches his lips onto a spot just below his jaw and moans when he kisses further down the column of his neck. He whines loudly when Junmyeon , hard, and he knows there’s going to be a mark later. He hisses when Junmyeon grazes his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin and he strains his hands against Junmyeon’s firm hold, needing to touch him. Junmyeon laughs, his breath tickling the skin of Jongdae’s neck and he a stripe up his throat before molding their lips together, greedily swallowing Jongdae’s mewls.

Jongdae needs more, arching his back off the door to press his hips up against Junmyeon’s, He’s pleased when Junmyeon groans and he fights more insistently to free his arms.

But then Junmyeon pulls his face away looking sheepish, keeping Jongdae pinned to the door.

“We can’t,” he gasps, chest heaving. Jongdae’s stomach drops and it must show on his face because Junmyeon immediately lets go of his hands to cup his cheeks, “I meant,” he presses his lips quickly against Jongdae’s, “we can’t right now,” another kiss, “the others…”

Jongdae heaves out a long sigh of relief and Junmyeon laughs, dropping his hands down to his waist and holding him close.

“Yeah,” Jongdae agrees begrudgingly. His arms find their way around Junmyeon’s neck again, hanging loosely and they stay like that for a moment, their foreheads leaning against each other. Jongdae suddenly feels hyper aware of the fingers curled around his sides and the little puffs of Junmyeon’s breaths fanning against his face as they regain their breath. Then it starts to sink in.

“So…you love me,” Jongdae murmurs with a dazed smile, his voice filled with wonder and a lingering hint of disbelief.

“Yeah,” Junmyeon chuckles breathily and pecks Jongdae’s nose. “And you…love me,” he whispers and there’s the same trace of awed disbelief lacing his tone.

“Yeah,” Jongdae affirms and they both laugh because this is all so ridiculous; all that pain and blown up complications when it was actually so simple.

“Such an idiot,” Junmyeon murmurs with a grin and laughs when Jongdae shoves him away indignantly.

“My idiot,” he says fondly, pulling him by the waist to kiss him again. Jongdae feels his face heat up, his chest fluttering at the words and he ducks his head to bury it in Junmyeon’s neck.

He feels lighter than he has in months; it feels like a mountain has shifted off his chest with how easily he can breathe. Junmyeon loves him back.

He smiles against Junmyeon’s skin and lifts his head to kiss his cheek.

“C’mon,” he says, reaching down to lace his fingers with Junmyeon’s and his smile widens when he feels a squeeze, “We have to go face the others.”

Junmyeon looks as hesitant as Jongdae feels, unsure of how the rest of the members will react but it has to be done nonetheless. Pulling the door open, Jongdae throws him the most encouraging smile he can muster and walks out, pulling Junmyeon with him.

The reaction they get is not the one they were expecting.

There’s a bustle of activity in the lounge where the members are all still standing and the moment the couple steps into the room, they’re met with a mixture of delighted cheers and loud groans.

Junmyeon and Jongdae stop in their tracks, confused by the dark looks and disgruntled expressions most of the members are donning. Jongdae feels bewildered by the betrayed looks several members are shooting his way.

Then he sees Yixing and Luhan in the middle of the small crowd, palms outstretched as they collect money from disgruntled members. Luhan has a gleeful grin plastered on his face and Yixing waves at them cheerfully with the bill he’s just plucked out of Yifan’s hands.

“What even-” Junmyeon asks, looking lost.

Luhan moves on to his next victim, predatorily cornering Jongin like a prey.

“I was so sure Junmyeon hyung would cave first,” Jongin mutters with a pout as he reluctantly slaps a crumpled note into Luhan’s waiting hand.

“But Jongdae confessed first!” Yixing quips helpfully, beaming at Jongdae as he waves the money in his hands, “So we win!”

Jongdae blushes a deep scarlet, feeling the heat spreading down his neck past his shirt collar. He ducks his head, trying to hide his smile shyly. Junmyeon looks scandalized. “You took bets on us?” he exclaims, gawking wide-eyed at the duo. But Luhan and Yixing are too busy dividing the money between them equally to pay him any attention. The rest of the members are grumbling between themselves, sulking about their loss.

Jongdae thinks he should feel indignant that his own roommates bet against him but then he’s hit with a wave of realization that they’re all okay with this. He feels a surge of affection for his group members, sagging with relief.

Junmyeon still looks like he wants to get a word in; possibly to scold Yifan for taking part in the others’ shenanigans.

Jongdae tugs on the hand in his own and Junmyeon turns to look at him. He blinks for a moment and then breaks into a wide smile, mirroring Jongdae’s relief.

Jongdae grins and nudges his head towards the others. Junmyeon throws him a brilliant smile before leaning in to press a quick kiss against his cheek. He squeezes his fingers one more time before letting go and moving off to chase after Yifan, who’s trying to slink away with a guilty look on his face.

Jongdae catches Luhan’s eye through the huddle of people and throws him a meaningful nod, trying to convey his gratefulness for everything. He grins at the wink he gets in return.

Jongdae breathes out a deep sigh feeling truly content and he looks down at his hand; it still feels warm from Junmyeon’s hold.
He uses the same hand to smack Yixing on the back of his head when he tries to start off another round of bets about who will top.


~ fin ~