Yunho and Jaejoong didn’t speak to each other for days. When they had to work, Yunho was polite but cold, only speaking to Jaejoong when he had to. Even then, he spoke mostly in monosyllables, and he never looked Jaejoong in the eyes. At the apartment, Yunho spent most of the time in his bedroom, only coming out to use the bathroom or grab something to eat. If they did chance to come across each other, Yunho would do whatever he could to avoid any contact with the lead-singer.

“Just ignore him,” Yoochun said to Jaejoong one afternoon. “He’ll get over it soon.”

Jaejoong doubted it. To him, it seemed the longer he and Yunho were at odds, the more sullen Yunho became. Sometimes Jaejoong would catch Yunho staring at him, and the look in his eyes always confused Jaejoong. There was anger there, yes, but there was also something else, something Jaejoong couldn’t identify. He was never able to get a good look because the moments were always fleeting: Yunho would notice Jaejoong was watching him and he would clam up, the anger flaring again.

Jaejoong didn’t know exactly what Yunho’s problem was, but he had a good guess. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered how disgusted Yunho had looked just after their almost-kiss. It was breaking Jaejoong’s heart. For a brief moment, he had let himself think, maybe Yunho really did care for him. But everything that had happened since then had snuffed out that brief ray of hope. If Yunho had reacted that strongly to Jaejoong over a small kiss that wasn’t even a kiss, how would he react if Jaejoong admitted his feelings to him?

Jaejoong dropped his head into his hands and massaged his temples. His thoughts were going in circles, repeating themselves like a broken record. He already knew what would happen, and brooding about it wasn’t helping. It was time he worked on putting it all behind him and try to move on with his life.

He tried to concentrate on the stack of papers in front of him: lyrics for their upcoming album. He was supposed to be memorizing the lyrics and rehearsing his parts—recording was going to begin in the next few days. But he couldn’t focus. The words kept swimming on the page, the characters as unfamiliar to him as a foreign language.

Giving up, he shoved the papers away from him, and watched as they slid over the edge of the bed and see-sawed slowly to the floor. He briefly considered taking a nap but he knew he’d never be able to, not feeling as tense as he did. But perhaps a bath would help.

-----

Jaejoong eased himself into the hot water and leaned back against the porcelain, sighing in pleasure as the water and bubbles enveloped him. The water helped to ease his tense muscles and the lavender scent of the soap was making him feel tired; but even here, his mind wouldn’t stop whirling. Unbidden, his thoughts returned to the night at the club, to that moment when Yunho’s mouth was only a centimeter from his own. In that moment, Jaejoong had been hyperaware of everything going on around and within him. The air around them had crackled. Yunho’s breath on his cheek had sent shivers down his spine. The scent of sweat and musk had been intoxicating. Every hair on his body had stood on end. Jaejoong had noticed a blemish at the corner of Yunho’s mouth and remembered wanting to place a kiss there. But when he opened his mouth, he had said Yunho’s name, and he had ruined everything.

Jaejoong let his head fall back against the porcelain. It was all too much. There was a pressure building up inside of him, and he felt like at any moment, he was going to explode. His emotions had been playing tug-of-war with him all week, and he was both mentally and emotionally exhausted.

On one hand, he felt sad and hurt by Yunho’s reaction, and he was also worried and scared that he and Yunho would never be able to reconcile and move past what happened. He had tried to talk to Yunho on multiple occasions, but he gave up when his entreaties were met only with glares and silence. Jaejoong was willing to forget what had happened and go back to the way things were, if only Yunho would speak to him again. He’d rather have Yunho in his life as a friend and endure an eternity of unrequited love than lose him completely.

But alongside the sadness and fear, his blood boiled in anger. What right did Yunho have to treat him like a leper? He hadn’t done a damn thing. If anybody had the right to be stalking around like the world had a personal vendetta against him, it was Jaejoong. Yunho had made a complete of himself. He was constantly trying to interfere in Jaejoong’s business, trying but failing to breach the wall Jaejoong had built between them. The more he pushed, the further he pushed Jaejoong away. He’d been throwing his weight around, trying to use his status and influence as the leader of their little group to cow Jaejoong into obedience. He said he cared, said he wanted to help, but if he really felt that way, he’d take a hint and back off. But Yunho only cared about one thing really: his image. Yunho had a lot riding on this gig, and he had a lot to lose if everything were to fall apart. Jaejoong knew what Yunho’s father thought about his chosen career. He knew Yunho had something to prove to his father, and he’d do anything he had to to prove his father wrong. He would even go so far as to deny the reality right in front of him.

With a sigh, Jaejoong heaved himself from the tub. The water had grown tepid and he was beginning to feel cold; anyway, the bath hadn’t helped to relax him at all. He scrubbed himself dry with a towel then dressed in some clean clothes. Perhaps he could persuade Yoochun to go on a walk with him. The apartment had begun to feel stifling, and he thought maybe some fresh air would help him feel better.

But Yoochun wasn’t there. The only people there besides himself were Junsu and Changmin.

“Where is Yoochun?” Jaejoong asked as he walked into the living room.

Junsu pressed the pause button on the game he and Changmin were playing, and turned to face the lead-singer. “He and Yunho went out. They didn’t say where to.”

Jaejoong flopped down on the couch and grabbed one of the throw pillows to cover his face with. Junsu and Changmin glanced at each other, both wanting to know what was going on with their hyung-deul, but nobody had told them anything about what happened between the two oldest at the bar. When Jaejoong and Yunho had come home, one had been sober and furious, the other, drunk and heartbroken. Junsu and Changmin had been in their room at the time, and when Yunho had stormed in and gone straight to his bed, neither had the courage to ask him what was wrong. Yoochun and Jaejoong had sat out in the living room for a while, talking quietly. Feeling only slightly guilty, they had tried to listen in but were too far away to hear anything. Since then, Junsu and Changmin had tried to stay well out of the way of the other three, hoping that whatever had happened would resolve itself. But nearly a week had passed and nothing had changed.

Junsu was worried. He sensed the tension in the apartment had reached a dangerous point. Everybody was walking on eggshells. All it would take was one misstep, one misspoken word, and their world would crumble into chaos. He didn’t want that to happen. Junsu had come to love his bandmates, had begun to think of them as family.

It hadn’t always been that way. By the time their little group was formed, Junsu had already spent a few years at SM Entertainment, practicing and honing his skills. He knew he was good, knew he was going to be the best. He was unstoppable. But when puberty hit him, his voice changed drastically, and suddenly, his future at SM Entertainment was unclear. The work he had to do to retrain his voice was grueling, but Junsu was determined to succeed. Still, he had spent many nights lying awake in his bed, wondering and worrying about what would happen to him.

The sense of relief he felt when they told him he was chosen to be part of a new group was overwhelming. There was to be five of them—they were going to be promoted as an A Capella group, but Junsu knew that was just a ploy. Oh sure, they would perform some things a capella, to make things look good. But mostly, they would be trussed up in pretty clothes and pretty make-up, and be made to dance complex choreographies while singing songs about love and heartbreak to masses of young girls. Just like all the rest of them.

He was happy to be with Yunho, though. He had always liked him, and they had always got along fairly well. And Changmin and Yoochun seemed nice enough, though the youngest did have a mean streak. And sometimes, it was hard to understand Yoochun due to the accent he had acquired from spending a few years in the United States.

He was less pleased about being with Jaejoong. He had met the man a few times, but they never talked much. At first Junsu had been wary of Jaejoong, because the older man always seemed so cold and aloof: it was hard to know what he was thinking. Then, when Junsu found out that Jaejoong was chosen to be lead-singer, a position he had coveted for a long time, he could barely look at the older man. He had felt that Jaejoong, a tone-deaf country boy with no prior singing experience, didn’t deserve such an honorable role. Jealousy and envy and hate ate away at Junsu for a long time, so while everybody else in the group was bonding and developing strong friendships, Jaejoong and Junsu remained mere colleagues.

One day, a month or so before their big-stage debut, Yunho pulled Junsu aside and asked him about it. Junsu had been reluctant before to talk to Yunho about his feelings, knowing how close Yunho was to Jaejoong; however, underneath Yunho’s stern but caring eyes, Junsu had relented and told Yunho everything. He told Yunho that Jaejoong intimidate him, and oftentimes, confused him. He also admitted that he was jealous because Jaejoong was the lead-singer and he was only a baritenor, a back-up to Jaejoong.

Yunho had laughed. At first Junsu felt insulted, but once Yunho explained that at first he too had been intimated by Jaejoong, he felt a little better. But then Yunho turned serious and told Junsu about Jaejoong’s past, about how hard he had practiced to overcome being tone-deaf, and the kinds of trials he had had to face just to make it to Seoul, let alone to succeed in SM Entertainment’s try-outs. Yunho explained that Jaejoong hid from the world in order to protect himself, that his aloof nature was all just a ruse.

Junsu had a new-found respect for Jaejoong after their conversation, and that night he had gone up to Jaejoong and apologized. They had been good friends ever since.

Now his friend was hurting and he didn’t know why, or how to help. He only knew he had to do something. Turning to Changmin, he whispered something quietly in his ear. The younger man smiled and nodded, then stood up to leave the room.

Junsu put down his controller and crawled over to the couch where Jaejoong lay. He reached out with one hand and poked Jaejoong, hard, in the chest. The lead-singer groaned and moved the pillow enough to peek out at Junsu through the fringe.

“Talk to me, hyung,” Junsu said softly. He tried to put on his best puppy-dog expression in hopes of softening Jaejoong’s resolve.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to talk,” Jaejoong said and moved the pillow back to cover his face.

Junsu sighed. He grabbed the pillow and pulled it away from Jaejoong’s face, ignoring the glare the older man gave him. “I think you should,” Junsu said. “I could help you.”

Jaejoong snorted and shook his head.

“At least let me try, hyung. Please. I hate seeing you like this.”

 “I don’t want to hurt you, Junsu.”

Junsu cocked his head to the side, confused by Jaejoong’s words. “Hurt me? How could you hurt me, hyung?”

“Junsu, I have…feelings. Feelings I shouldn’t be having.”

“Tell me about them?”

Jaejoong’s eyes closed. “I don’t think I can,” he whispered. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

Junsu reached out and ran his hand through Jaejoong’s hair, to comfort him. “I could never hate you, Jae,” he said, dropping the honorific, hoping the nickname would make Jaejoong feel a little more comfortable with opening up to him.

Jaejoong’s mouth curled in a small smile and Junsu felt a moment of triumph. He was getting somewhere.

“Junsu, I am in love.” Jaejoong said, his voice choked with emotion. “And it hurts.”

“Why does it hurt? Does she not love you back? Who is she, Jae?”

A look of pain and anguish crossed Jaejoong’s face. Junsu reached out once again to run a hand through Jaejoong’s hair.

Jaejoong took strength from Junsu’s touch and continued, “It isn’t a she, Junsu.”

Jaejoong had spoken so quietly that at first, Junsu wanted to believe he had misheard him. But he knew he hadn’t. In shock, his hand dropped from Jaejoong’s forehead. Jaejoong’s eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly to look down at Junsu.

“I am so sorry, Junsu. I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Hyung…I don’t—How do you want me to react to this? You know how I—“

“I know, Junsu. I know. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you."

Junsu dropped his head into his hands, in part because his head was beginning to hurt, but mostly because he didn’t want to look at Jaejoong.
“I’m sorry, Junsu,” Jaejoong said again and stood up to leave, but Junsu stopped him with a hand on his knee.

“Who is he, hyung?” Junsu asked. He felt he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Jaejoong directly.

“Yunho,” Jaejoong whispered.

“Oh, Jaejoong,” Junsu said, and squeezed Jaejoong’s knee, offering him whatever comfort he could.