"Woonie, I'm sorry—and I love you—but I don't see the big deal."

Taekwoon pinched the bridge of his nose and his nails dug in. "I don't either . . ."

"Then why are you making a big deal out of it?" Yixing sounded distracted, like he was working or something. "She's just his ex. It's not like they're still dating. And you said it yourself buddy, she's a nice person."

"She is!" he exclaimed, slumping against the counter. The heat of the tea kettle radiated uncomfortably on his arm. He wasn't even in the mood to drink tea, but he couldn't think of anything else to make himself chill—and both he and Yixing knew he was in need of some serious chill.

"Taekwoon . . ." Yixing sighed patiently. "Okay, let's take this once piece at a time. Do you know what you're worried about?"

Taekwoon's face was pressed flat against the countertop, his eyes trained on the steam slowly rising from the kettle's spout. "Yixing . . ." he began in a mumble, wishing his voice wasn't so damn shaky. "Xing . . . I l-like him."

There was a pause on the other side of the line, and then, "Like who?"

"Ravi, you dweeb!"

Yixing laughed. "I know, I know. Taekwoon, I know. I've known."

Offended, Taekwoon straightened out. "What do you mean 'you've known'?"

Yixing's next laugh filled Taekwoon's cheeks with a blush. "Woonie, you still think you're hard for me to read? How long have we known each other again?"

He rolled his eyes, reaching into the cabinet for a mug. Yixing was right though; he was all too transparent for him.

"Okay so," Yixing started again, followed by the sound of shuffling papers, "you like him, and what's wrong with this?"

Taekwoon stirred one spoonful of sugar into his tea. "Just . . . T-Talking to his ex-girlfriend who knows his name—real name, not some weird alias or whatever—I felt like—like I got slapped or something. Because I—I don't know anything about him. I didn't even know where he went to school! How can I like someone I don't know anything about? It doesn't—"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Yixing said gently. "Taekwoon, you know you don't have to know everything about a person to like them, right? Minah was his ex-girlfriend," Taekwoon winced at the word with a sinking heart. "and when you're dating someone, you tell yourself things about them, and they know those things even after they break up. That makes sense. That's how it goes."

Taekwoon set his mug down onto the coffee table and plopped onto the couch, feeling silly. "I know . . . But, it's just that . . . When I try to ask Ravi things about himself, he just . . . He changes the subject. He avoids it, or whatever."

"It takes time." Yixing singsonged.

Taekwoon sighed. He was right. But how much time? Would he even be here when that time came around?

When he sat forward to take a sip of his tea, it was only bitter.

"Hey so," Hyuk winced as Taekwoon dabbed one of his cuts with a wet cotton ball. "let's say I got that new game . . . Would you play it with me?" he asked hopefully.

Taekwoon peeled a bandaid open. "If you told Yongguk-hyung what was going on, maybe."

Pause.

The bandage fell from his hands when Hyuk suddenly slapped them away. Unsurprised, Taekwoon watched it float to the floor, and then he sighed after it touched the ground. "Hyuk . . ."

"No hyung. I already told you." Hyuk huffed, pressing himself into the couch cushion and folding his arms tight over his chest. "Dude, if you keep trying to make me, I'm just gonna stop coming over . . . You're such a bummer."

Taekwoon rolled his eyes and picked the bandage up. "Let me put the bandaid on you. If you bleed on my couch, you're buying me a new one."

"It wouldn't even be yours!" Hyuk threw his hands up in the air. "It'd be your parents'."

Taekwoon snorted. "Yeah, right. They don't even live here . . ." He mumbled the last part under his breath while turning away.

"They don't live here?" Hyuk asked, and Taekwoon heard the couch shift under him.

"That's not what I said." he lied, and then quickly changed the subject. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"If it's about me telling—"

"No, no." Taekwoon turned back around and went to settle on the recliner. "It's just, um. I wanted to ask Yongguk-hyung a couple of things . . . But—"

"You're too chicken, huh?"

Hyuk yelped when Taekwoon chucked a pillow at him. He wasn't wrong though; Taekwoon was nervous about making it look like he was snooping around. Even after his Let's Work Through Your Problems Together phone call with Yixing, he didn't know what to do about Ravi—or how to feel about . . . them. Together.

"Hyung's not scary, don't worry." Hyuk said, hugging the pillow against his chest. "He likes you, too. If you ask nicely, I'm sure he'll tell you what you wanna know."

"That's what Daehyun said too . . ." Taekwoon muttered, leaning back.

Silence beat by a moment before Hyuk talked again. "What d'you wanna know anyway?"

Taekwoon cast his eyes down, crisscrossing his legs. It wouldn't hurt to tell Hyuk, would it? It did kind of involve him after all, so there wasn't much use in keeping it from him.

". . . The reason you're bullied . . ." he began slowly, carefully. "The rumors, the bad reputation, I want to know how it started." He kept his wince to himself when Hyuk stiffened. "I thought, maybe, it would be a better idea to just ask Yongguk-hyung instead of speculating on my own . . ."

After everything, Taekwoon knew Hyuk didn't like thinking too much about his life. He was very much a person who focused on the future and looked past (or more like avoided) his troubles. He was still young, too; younger than Taekwoon. Casually talking to him about these things might not be a good idea, but it was too late now.

Standing from the couch, Hyuk scooped up his school bag. "Hyung, it's not like . . . It's not like it's a big secret or anything, but I've seen this kinda situation before, and if you—" He cut himself off by pursing his lips. He sighed. "I like you, Taekwoon-hyung. And the others like you too—and Ravi-hyung . . ." He glanced off to the side. "I don't know. Just don't change, okay?"

Taekwoon got up from the couch too.

"I'm gonna go home now. See you later, hyung."

Awkwardly, Taekwoon walked him to the door and opened it. Hyuk stepped out into the late afternoon and he watched him go without saying goodbye.

The next few days were spent thinking about how to approach Yongguk. Taekwoon thought of every reason under the sun why he shouldn't, anxiety tittering in him the longer the list became. He almost thought of foregoing the whole thing completely, but he'd spent so many years being stubborn about everything that the want wouldn't leave his head.

Only after spending more time with Daehyun and more malicious notes calling his locker home did he get fed up. Ravi wasn't a bad person and he wanted to know why everyone thought otherwise. Not only that, but if it kept happening to him, having bashed a kid's face in wasn't going to be the only thing he had to confess to Seungho.

The fact was, Ravi wasn't going to tell him anything himself and Yongguk was his last resort.

Pinning down Yongguk between his work and community service was more of a chore than he thought it would be—what didn't help was also having to find a time when Ravi wouldn't be around. Taekwoon had to go as far as quietly ask Daehyun what his schedule was and what the best time to talk to him would be. It was embarrassing and his heart sped with shaky nerves the closer he got to his answers, but he would make sure he got them.

It was a week later that he lucked out with a time that Ravi was staying after school to work more on his end-of-year project and Yongguk was spending a lot of time in their house's backyard.

Ken invited him in distractedly, paint dashed across his face and his hair held back by a clip.

"Lover boy's not home." he winked, hurrying off to the Garbage Can.

Realize what he'd said, Taekwoon gasped with the heat that shot into his face. He clutched his chest and bit the inside of his cheek.

Ever since he confessed his feelings to Yixing, his embarrassment meter was filled full more and more often if he even had the slightest thought about Ravi.

Lover boy.

He ended up patting his hot cheeks all the way out to the backyard.

In the far back corner, Yongguk was bent over an old car with its hood propped open. Taekwoon could hear the sizzling of a blowtorch and wondered what he could be doing. He didn't know Yongguk was good with cars, but it occurred to Taekwoon that it fit his shaggy image.

Because he was distracted and using some dangerous tools, Taekwoon waited off to the side before greeting him. How should he bring up what he wanted to ask? He didn't want to seem nosy—even though that was completely what he was being. He hoped Yongguk wouldn't try and tell him to ask Ravi himself. That wouldn't go well at all.

He didn't have time to worry about it anymore when the welding mask Yongguk wore flipped up and he turned around to reach for a grease-stained towel. He blinked several times at the sight Taekwoon to make sure he was there.

"Oh, hey." he greet, smile gummy. Taekwoon wanted to dash away, but it was too late. "What are you doing here? Ravi's still at school."

As his heart pounded in his chest, Taekwoon made his way closer and tried to look interested in the car Yongguk was fixing up.

"I hope I'm not intruding . . ." he mumbled, peeking at the worn and cracked leather of the front seats.

"Not at all," Yongguk replied, drinking deeply from a water bottle he picked up. "What's up?" He sat down on a cement bench that look like it'd been stolen from a cemetery.

If he stalled, he'd look suspicious. Daehyun said it would be easy to talk to Yongguk; that he was mature and didn't beat around the bush. That might've been what scared Taekwoon a little though: Yongguk would tell him to buzz off because of it.

He clenched his eyes shut and bit his bottom lip.

". . . Are you okay?"

The question made him wince.

"I'm sorry." he blurted.

Yongguk raised an eyebrow, more concerned. "Did something happen?"

Taekwoon's hands began to shake.

Yongguk stood, now worried. Taekwoon felt like an idiot.

"Here, why don't you sit down." he offered, gently patting his shoulder.

Taekwoon let himself be guided to the bench and inhaled a shaky breath after sitting down. He must have been worrying Yongguk a lot.

"I'm really sorry," he mumbled stupidly when Yongguk sat back down next to him. He refused when offered the water bottle. "It's not serious, I—Sorry . . ."

Easing, Yongguk chuckled. "Just nerves? It's alright. Is there something you'd like to ask?"

There it was again; Taekwoon registered it in the early days of knowing them, that way Yongguk seemed to be very paternal-like and soothing. Granted, it made Taekwoon feel a little guilty, but his heart was slowing down a little.

". . . There is." he said after a long moment. "B-But I really don't want to be nosy—it's j-just . . . Um." He fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

"Does it have to do with Ravi?" Yongguk guessed.

Taekwoon shrugged halfheartedly. "Kind of . . ."

Yongguk stuck out his bottom lip in thought and looked at the sky. "You know if you want to know more about him, you can ask him yourself, right?"

Deflating, Taekwoon mumbled, "Thought you'd say that . . . But I'm—I can't." He took a deep breath. ". . . He deflects? Circles around it. Avoids it . . ." He shook his head, frustration bubbling up just thinking about it. "But I'm here to ask about, um, you too. Just you."

"Just me?"

"Yeah."

"What about me?"

Taekwoon tried to sigh evenly. "Some things . . . have been going on with me at school . . ." He glanced off to the side, shame appearing for no good reason. "I'm n-not saying it's Ravi's fault—it isn't. It's not. But . . . But because I've been h-hanging out with you guys, I'm—"

"Being bullied?"

Taekwoon clipped his mouth shut, eyes widening slightly. He nodded dumbly.

The ease disappeared from Yongguk's expression and he leaned forward on his knees with a sigh. "I'm sorry Taekwoon." He sounded more ragged and tired, and Taekwoon had the feeling he was going to get a story out of this conversation for sure. "I'm guessing you'd like to know how we got outcast from the school population?"

Taekwoon hesitated before nodding, not wanting to seem too eager.

"It's not my place to tell you about the others, but I can tell you some more about myself." Yongguk said. "Where should I start . . ." He looked up in thought. "I became an independent when I was fourteen. Before that, I was pushed from relative to relative . . . My stepdad didn't want me around after my mom died and I didn't stay with any of my aunts or uncles for too long. I finally landed at my grandfather's . . ."

Taekwoon watched him sigh again, like it was a bad memory he didn't want to dredge up. Yongguk rubbed at the watch on his wrist that had gone unnoticed before.

"He died after my fourteenth birthday." He shook his head, and then shrugged. "I was just tired of being tossed around and unwanted, so I decided to leave on my own. My grandfather left me some money and I got my own apartment, filled out the proper documentation and everything." He smiled at the memory. "I was finally free.

"Before all that though, I had a lot on my plate in middle school . . . The reason none of my relatives wanted me was because I was, uh, always getting in trouble for fighting. I didn't know how to walk away and I was just—so damn frustrated all the time." He ran his fingers through his curly hair and then laughed a little at himself. "The middle school I went to is a feeder into Jawoon . . . Suffice to say, uh, my bad reputation followed me there . . .

"I graduated middle school and almost thought about quitting on the whole—by this time I already met some of the kids—" Taekwoon figured he was talking about Ken, Ravi, Hongbin, and Hyuk and it was endearing how he referred to them. "—so I could support them. We lived together in my crappy little apartment—it was just me and Ken and Ravi back then—and their home situations were . . . tough too."

The way Yongguk emphasized the word "tough" made Taekwoon's heart jumped. Did it like his own upbringing? Ignored and treated like an accessory? Or did it . . . worse? The possibilities scared him.

Yongguk sighed wearily. "I wanted to take care of them . . . I got labeled as a gangster bully, but I used that to protect them at school." His expression turned dark, like he was remembering something he didn't want to. He leaned back on his palms and looked at the sky.

"I used to have a friend . . . He helped me keep up with classes and everything when I was too busy trying to make end's meet. I ended up relying on him a little too much and I was so busy with everything that I could barely pay attention to Ken and Ravi. Ken . . . He used to be an easy target, so you can imagine . . . Ah, anyway. By accident, I found out my 'friend' knew about what was happening and he didn't say anything about it. Ever."

A hard line set into Yongguk's jaw and Taekwoon shivered; it definitely wasn't a good idea to get on his bad side, he decided.

Yongguk sighed. "I got into fights with my friend's friends and then that gangster reputation ended up following me to high school. It stayed the same and I never tried to change it. And, well, you know the rest."

For a long moment, Taekwoon sat in silence and absorbed the story just told. He tried to imagine a young Yongguk on his own, struggling to find his place in the world and taking care of everyone else, and then wondered if the others felt like that—if Ravi felt like that. To him, it seemed so outlandish that people lived and grew up like they had; fending for themselves, struggling against misunderstandings about themselves. It made him feel a little guilty.

There was nothing but awe and respect for Yongguk in Taekwoon. He never would've guessed that he had gone through so much. He opened and closed his mouth several times to figure out something to say.

It occurred to him that the story didn't explain much about the house, Hongbin, or Hyuk, but rather the things that Taekwoon had become familiar with since living here. Maybe there would be another time to ask about those things.

"You're amazing . . ." he finally breathed. (The words felt stupid the minute they left his mouth.)

Surprised, Yongguk laughed heartily and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"I'm sorry, I—"

He was cut off when Yongguk waved the dirty rag around. "No, no. You're kind, aren't you? I'm glad Ravi and us met someone like you."

Taekwoon blushed at the praise and ducked his head.

"Anyway," he started as he pushed himself up from the bench, "how about we go inside and get something to drink? I need a break anyway."

Ravi hadn't come home until after Taekwoon was gone—which was fine by Taekwoon. There was a lot on his mind and he needed to sort through it before trying to round back on everything that was Ravi. Not to mention the courage he'd have to build up—the fact that he finally even talked to Yongguk was amazing. It left him in a daze for the rest of the night.

He was just glad that some of the mysteries surrounding Ravi's family were cleared up. Where did he go from here? Should he wait for more? Talk to someone else? Ken? Hyuk wouldn't talk to him about anything, probably. Taekwoon thought he made him a little too mad that week and a half ago.

He wondered if Ravi would get mad if he found out he was snooping. What else could he do though? It just seemed like the obvious choice . . . The bitter, obvious choice.

He'd work his way up, he decided. It started with Hakyeon all those months ago—that misinformation—then came around to Hyeri, then Himchan, then . . . Minah. Then Yongguk. Who would he talk to next?

Before he could think more about it, a message alerted from his phone.

The sight of Ravi's name made his heart skip a beat. He tried not to smile.

Heat flared in Taekwoon's face at the blunt suggestion. Sweaty fingers tapped a response.

Even though he was so embarrassed, Taekwoon smiled like an idiot with his teeth digging into his bottom lip. Ravi . . . was so cute.

There was a long pause in their conversation. Taekwoon's message was marked read and he stared at the screen, waiting for a new message to move the chat upwards.

Taekwoon shot upwards in bed and his phone dropped onto his bed. Steam all but blew from his violently red ears and he covered his face, groaning loudly. In his chest, his heart pounded a mile a minute. How was he supposed to reply to that?

A good five minutes had to be spent fanning himself to calm down before he could pick up his phone. There were no new messages, but rereading the last one Ravi sent dragged him into a renewed spike of embarrassment.

It would be mean and heartless to leave him on read, so Taekwoon typed as quick a reply as he could.

Then, even though Taekwoon laid down to sleep, he couldn't; not for a long while after that, while the message kept flashing in his mind.

I like seeing you a lot.