It was a long way down, Hongki realized, the moment Jonghun's lips softly brushed against his his own. He wasn't quite sure how it ended up like this, with his back against the wall and a pair of warm hands trailing down his sides to rest on his waist, but as Jonghun's lips pressed into his own a little more vigorously, all Hongki could focus on was the flurry of emotion clouding his head, and the overwhelming heat bubbling over in his heart. The hands against his waist kept him nestled close to Jonghun's chest, fingers clinging tightly to Hongki's shirt as if refusing to let go—almost as though he were afraid to.

 

Hongki's head spun, thoughts blurring together as Jonghun filled each and every one of his senses. With the warmth of Jonghun's body soaking into his pores, the intoxicatingly masculine scent of him filling Hongki's nostrils, and the taste of him on his lips, it all proved too much to think clearly. Eyes fluttering shut, Hongki felt the last shreds of his sanity slipping, chased away by a blazing desire and dizzying fog of Jonghun. It was still there, Hongki realized a split second later, the urge to let go, to stop fighting himself and do nothing but feel.

 

It should have been so easy, to give up control and let somebody else make sense of the muddled mess in his heart. It should have been so easy for him to give in, to surrender, to let Jonghun have him despite how much his pride argued how dreadfully stupid that would be. Jonghun brought trouble with him wherever he went, but Hongki was just so goddamn tired of fighting everyone and everything. Letting go seemed so easy, but why did the thought of doing so cause such a painful twinge in his chest?

 

Screw it, thought Hongki, as he vaguely felt his keys slip out of his fingers. Just ing screw it.

 

Reaching up, Hongki let his hand rest at the nape of Jonghun's neck, fingers entangling themselves in the dark strands he found there. The hands at his waist shifted a bit, moving only to settle at the small of his back. Encased by a pair of warm, muscular arms, Hongki pushed himself closer to Jonghun, kissing him back, fingers gently tugging at Jonghun's hair. Those lips were warm against his own, and moved maddeningly slow, as if intending to tease, to savor the moment as long as humanly possible.

 

The hands resting at his back pulled him closer, as close as he could be against Jonghun, setting Hongki's skin on fire through the fabric of his clothes. Jonghun's teeth soon nipped at Hongki's lower lip, nibbling softly, drawing out a husky purr that Hongki would later deny he ever created. When Jonghun's tongue slipped through his lips, as sneaky as the fingers barely slipping underneath the hem of his shirt, the blood in Hongki's veins ran heavier, hotter, filling his head and distorting his thoughts.

 

He wasn't quite sure how long they remained like that, wrapped in each other's arms and lost in the taste of one another's lips. Time blurred into a nonsensical fog of daring touches and torrid kisses, of sneaky hands and callused fingertips trailing across heated skin. By the time Jonghun pulled back, allowing only the slightest fraction of air between them, Hongki was left muddled in the head and weak in the legs. Jonghun's breath swept across his lips, but Hongki didn't dare open his eyes, knowing he'd find that dark gaze focused intently on his face, prying into his soul, trying to catch a glimpse of the Hongki who only knew how to run and hide—the Hongki who was afraid to feel, who never showed himself to anyone.

 

Jonghun was knocking on a very dangerous door, and Hongki wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle what was hiding on the other side.

 

It was the roaming hands in his hair that caused Hongki's eyes to finally flutter open. Immediately, he was met with a dark, hooded gaze, callused fingers twining themselves through the long locks of hair that fell atop Hongki's shoulders. It was only a moment, one brief, passing moment of locked gazes and shared shallow breaths before Jonghun leant closer once more, coherency vanishing as their noses gently brushed against one another.

 

“Jonghun...” Hongki mumbled just as Jonghun's lips barely grazed against his own, placing a hand on his chest and pushing back a little. Swallowing thickly, he struggled to hold onto his senses, fighting to cling to some semblance of his fading rationality. Finally, he grabbed hold of his words, and latched onto the very last thread of his sanity. “This can't happen.”

 

“What? Why not?” Jonghun's brow knit together at the words, dark eyes reigniting with that familiar spark when Hongki responded only by wriggling out of Jonghun's grasp. “Damn it, Hongki! Give me a reason!”

 

Hongki shook his head and scrambled to pick his keys up off the floor, craving space, needing the comfort of four walls and a hell of a distance away from Jonghun. It was suffocating, Hongki realized, to have Jonghun standing on his doorstep, tugging so persistently at the lock Hongki had kept hidden from everyone but himself. It was a dangerous thought, nearly letting him open it.

 

“I can't do this,” muttered Hongki as he backed away from Jonghun, nearly choking on the words. “Not with you.”

 

Jonghun's gaze darkened. “You kissed me back.”

 

“I didn't.”

 

“You did! You kissed me, Hongki.”

 

“I really don't want to get into this right now. Please, Jonghun, just go,” was the pathetic excuse Hongki tossed out, turning his back to Jonghun and running a hand through his hair. He grit his teeth, fumbling with his keys and finding his fingers trembling the slightest fraction. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leant his forehead against the door, hand clenching into a fist around his keys as he willed himself to keep breathing and calm down.

 

Leave, was the word Hongki silently threw at him.

 

“Hongki—”

 

I said leave, you fool!

 

“Go home,” Hongki muttered once more, without even bothering to face him.

 

Still, Jonghun remained exactly where he was, his presence looming over Hongki, demanding answers, expecting reason. “I'm not leaving until you look me in the eye and give me a reason, a real reason, why you're afraid of this, of all of this.”

 

Finally, Hongki spun around to face him, gaze flaring.

 

You have no idea what you're asking.

 

“No, you don't get to do this, Jonghun,” Hongki snapped, feeling his heart rate spike as his temper flared. “You don't get to just barge in and turn everything upside down simply because you can. I'm not doing this. I'm not playing this game.”

 

Jonghun stepped closer, dark eyes filled with nothing but an uncharacteristic sincerity. “I'm not playing,” he said lowly, never once breaking eye contact. “I don't joke around, Hongki. Everything I do, everything about you, it's 100% serious.”

 

Hongki slowly shook his head.

 

“Don't,” he warned.

 

Jonghun stood his ground. “Don't what?”

 

“Don't tell me something like that!” shouted Hongki before he immediately snapped his mouth shut and ran a hand over his face. Taking his lower lip between his teeth, he then slumped against the wall and looked at Jonghun wearily. “God, Jonghun, you just don't get it. Everyone I've ever cared about just up and disappeared on me. Whenever I get close to someone, they leave, they get hurt, or they die. Do you understand now? I'm toxic. I destroy everything I touch.”

 

Someone died because of me.

 

“I can handle it,” Jonghun declared without missing a beat.

 

“There's blood on my hands.”

 

“That doesn't matter,” he quickly brushed off, taking yet another step closer, eyes never once leaving Hongki's. “None of that matters. Whatever happened, I don't care. I don't need to know.”

 

Hongki merely stared at him for a moment, words failing as that dark gaze bored into his own with the intensity of a thousand burning fires. Having Jonghun look at him like that, nothing but blatant trust and acceptance and a blazing sincerity, it sent a dizzying whirlwind of fiery emotion straight to his heart. Those words, that unwavering certainty in Jonghun's gaze, the undeniable warmth from his body, it all tugged at the darkest corners of Hongki's heart. It suffocated him, the endless intensity radiating from those dark eyes.

 

Did Jonghun realize what he was saying? Did he even understand how potent those words were?

 

You don't know what I did to my best friend.

 

You don't know what I did to the person I loved.

 

If you knew what I did, if you knew the life I had taken away from this world... Would you still be able to say that?

 

Hongki merely stood there for a moment, taunted by dark eyes, and provoked by an unwavering sincerity. It would have been so easy to let go, to back off the edge and let himself fall. It would have been so easy to let Jonghun have him then, to give up and surrender everything to him, but the instinct to run and hide still simmered in his chest. It hurt too much, having Jonghun look at him like that. The urge to let go faded, and was instead replaced by a paralyzing fear.

 

It was too much.

 

It was all just too much.

 

Hongki couldn't breathe. He needed space. He need to be away from Jonghun.

 

“Go home, Jonghun,” Hongki finally mumbled. “Just go home.”

 

 

 

><><><><

 

 

 

“It's weird to think we're graduating high school this year,” Wonbin mused one late January evening, perched atop Hongki's colorful bedspread with an old guitar draped across his lap. It had been a rough winter, with record-breaking snowfall and ice storms. Even now, the snow fell on top of frozen streets and a powdery blanket, leaving nothing but white as far as the eye could see. Wonbin quite liked it, but Hongki always complained about how cold it was, and how he'd rather hibernate until spring.

 

“The snow is pretty tonight,” Wonbin commented quietly, even though he knew Hongki probably wouldn't answer.

 

From across the room, Hongki grunted something unintelligible, his attention too preoccupied by a mound of multicolored fabric and his latest art project—a striped red and black sportcoat that looked like it belonged on a Tim Burton character. Wonbin often wondered why Hongki always created such loud and dramatic outfits for himself, especially when those outfits garnered far more ridicule than praise, but he supposed Hongki's fondness for the arts vastly outweighed his interest in other people's opinions.

 

Wonbin quite liked that about him: his individuality, and his ability to stay true to himself despite how much the rest of the world mocked him and laughed at him. Everybody made fun of him, and yet Hongki still managed to hold his head up and say, “ you and your bull.”

 

The thought made Wonbin frown. It couldn't have been easy for Hongki, having everyone look at him as though he didn't belong, as if his entire existence was nothing more than a joke.

 

It had gotten so old, seeing Hongki find ant colonies that had mysteriously taken residence in his desk, or discover his textbooks had all been glued shut, or the times when he'd open his lunchbox and find his lunch had been replaced entirely with cat treats. Their classmates were so stupid, so petty, so idiotic, and yet they never seemed to grow bored with their childish games—even after Wonbin had taken it upon himself to “have a chat” with every single one of those idiots, which resulted only in split knuckles, bloody lips, a rainbow of bruises and a long suspension from school.

 

Hongki had been pissed instead of grateful, insulted instead of relieved. Perhaps Wonbin should have known better than to try to fight Hongki's battles for him. Perhaps he should have realized that the more he tried to protect him, the more Hongki would lash out. But Wonbin couldn't help it. Hongki was his best friend, his brother, and it hurt to see him suffer at the hands of the s they called their classmates. Hongki couldn't fight them alone, but why did he have to be so damn stubborn and insist he was okay when Wonbin could clearly see how much Hongki was hurting?

 

Surrounded by notebooks and crumpled pieces of paper, Wonbin let his back fall to the mattress, eyes drifting to the extensive collection of photos Hongki had taped to the wall in a disorganized and asymmetrical collage. It seemed Hongki's obsession with the Polaroid camera still hadn't dwindled, thought Wonbin, as he reached out and let his fingers tug at the corners of a photo until he pulled it off the wall.

 

It almost made him crack a smile, the image of him and Hongki and that silly, over-sized straw sunhat Hongki insisted on wearing to the beach. The picture was only from the previous summer, when Wonbin's parents decided it was time for a family vacation—and that always meant Hongki was included.

 

It almost felt foreign, as if from another life, seeing Hongki smile so brightly like this.

 

That smile was becoming more and more uncommon these days, and Wonbin couldn't help but feel Hongki was slipping away from him.

 

Hongki's easygoing laughter had become something Wonbin only heard once in a blue moon, and even his smile had dwindled into a fraction of what it used to be. The playful spark in his eyes disappeared, and suddenly he no longer wanted to joke or screw around like he used to. Instead, he'd closed himself off, refusing to talk and insisting he just wanted to work on lyrics and new clothing designs.

 

The Hongki in this picture, where he'd smiled at the ocean so freely, he was quickly fading away, and Wonbin didn't know how to bring him back.

 

Something was wrong, Wonbin was certain of it. Hongki was changing, and it wasn't for the better.

 

Wonbin's thoughts wandered a bit, and he wondered if perhaps it wasn't Hongki who was changing, but instead somebody that was changing him. The thought spun around his head, sending an uneasy feeling churning in his stomach. He realized it was time to voice the words that had wanted to escape all evening, no longer caring about tiptoeing around him.

 

“I saw something strange today,” murmured Wonbin, letting the photo fall beside him on the mattress.

 

Hongki sighed and rolled his eyes, though he didn't bother sparing a glance at his friend as he sewed black buttons to the sleeve. “For the last time, Wonbin, that birthmark on your does not look like Italy.”

 

“No, no, not that,” Wonbin quickly brushed off, shifting only to rest on his side and prop himself up on his arm. “Even though it absolutely does look like Italy, that's not what I'm talking about.”

 

Hongki snorted. “What, did you find another one that looks like France?”

 

Wonbin rolled his eyes.

 

“That's real funny,” he sighed, before he shook his head and sat up. “I saw some people hanging around the school gates today. Normally I wouldn't think anything of it, but it's not the first time I've seen them. It's always the same four or five people, guys who are just a little bit too old for high school, and who always seem to be looking for someone. But you want to know the weirdest part? Every time I see them, you're no where to be found.”

 

Wonbin watched as Hongki's jaw clenched at the words.

 

“Funny how coincidences work, yeah?” Hongki brushed off, jabbing the needle through the fabric a little too roughly and sticking his finger. A string of curses fell from his lips, hands immediately fumbling for a tissue as Wonbin pursed his lips.

 

“Hongki,” he all but demanded. “What the hell have you gotten into?”

 

Finally, Hongki's gaze flicked over to meet Wonbin's, eyes flashing with something Wonbin didn't recognize. “What makes you think I have anything to do with them?”

 

“Do you think I'm stupid? Who are they and what do they want?”

 

“How should I know?”

 

“Don't play dumb with me!” Wonbin finally snapped, standing to his feet and stepping over to Hongki. “I know you, Hongki. I know when something's up, and lately you've been acting like you've committed a crime. Disappearing without warning, making up excuses about where you've been, lying straight to my face...” The words trailed off, and Wonbin heaved a long breath. Shaking his head, he then leant close to Hongki's face, watching as those eyes flickered with unease.

 

“What are you hiding?” was the question Wonbin asked, words burning with unspoken warning.

 

“I'm not hiding anything,” Hongki mumbled, scrambling to his feet and backing away from him. Wonbin didn't miss the way Hongki avidly avoided his gaze as he spoke, turning around and rearranging the mountain of fabrics stacked in the corner—no doubt an excuse to occupy himself with something else, anything but this conversation.

 

“Try looking me in the eye and saying that,” Wonbin challenged, watching as Hongki spun around at the words, gaze flaring.

 

“You know what, Wonbin? Why don't you stay out of my business for once? I told you before, I'm not your girlfriend, and I don't need you butting into things that have nothing to do with you.”

 

“Hongki,” Wonbin said once more. “What did you do?”

 

Hongki held his gaze. “Nothing. Not a damn thing.”

 

Hongki awoke with a start, his limbs tangled in the bed sheets, and his body covered in a sticky layer of sweat. His eyes snapped open to a dark room and the faint hint of street lights slipping through the curtains, his chest throbbing and his throat choking on oxygen. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sat up, clutching at his chest and gritting his teeth. Tears threatened to form behind his eyelids, but he forced them back, choking on the growing lump in his throat.

 

It wasn't fair, Hongki wanted to shout, the fact he was still haunted by every memory, every regret, even when he closed his eyes. It wasn't fair, still being here when it was Wonbin who deserved to live. He wasn't supposed to die that day. He wasn't the one who was supposed to die. Hongki should have been the one to die all those years ago, but because of Wonbin—

 

The lump in his throat grew. He couldn't breathe, and the ache in his chest stabbed at him like smoldering knives.

 

It wasn't fair.

 

It wasn't ing fair.

 

It just wasn't ing fair.

 

Hongki remembered it then, the reason why he'd been so afraid to feel. As he stumbled from his bed, kicking away the blankets and throwing everything from his nightstand to the floor, he remembered why he never wanted anyone close enough to see him—really, truly see him. A brief glance at his reflection in the mirror was all Hongki saw before he threw a fist at that too, not wanting to see the tears, or the pitifully broken mess he'd become.

 

Hongki barely registered the blood trickling down his hand, or the shards of glass scattered around his feet. The new pain did nothing to distract from the burn in his throat, or the broken sobs heaving from his chest.

 

He remembered it then, the reason why he refused to let Jonghun take his heart from him.

 

Because everyone left him.

 

Everyone always left him, and it hurt.

 

 

 

><><><><

 

 

 

“Has anyone heard from Hongki?” Minhwan heard Shin Hye ask the next morning, the question immediately tearing his attention away from the game in his lap. Gaze flicking to the other side of the dressing room, he watched as Shin Hye pocketed her phone, a frown at her lips. “We're leaving in ten minutes, and nobody can get through to his phone.”

 

“Nope, sorry,” Jessica replied without even looking up from her cellphone. “Have you tried asking The Beast?”

 

Shin Hye's brow knit together. “Beast?”

 

Jessica sighed and looked up from her phone, waving her hand around. “That thing we call Jonghun. The way I hear it, he kidnapped Hongki so he could lock him inside his secret underground dungeon. I guess he found a new plaything.”

 

“That's not funny,” Sunny chided as he tossed an empty yogurt carton at her.

 

Jessica shrugged and pursed her lips. “I thought it was pretty funny.”

 

“You also think Godzilla trampling Tokyo is funny,” Sunny shot back, which only prompted yet another bickering session between the two girls. From his chair across the room, Minhwan watched as Shin Hye sighed and shook her head. Catching his eye, Shin Hye immediately made her way over to him, her frown deepening.

 

“Have you guys heard anything?”

 

Jaejin shook his head.

 

“Nothing at all,” murmured the bassist from his seat right next to Minhwan.

 

The words tugged at Minhwan's chest, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the arms of the chair. It was true, nobody had heard from Hongki, and he'd always shown up on time—for the most part, at least. Minhwan couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't quite right, especially when he thought back to how badly Jonghun had been freaking out when he returned home late the previous night.

 

It scared him, the sight of Jonghun nearly on the verge of tears as he paced back and forth in the living room, mumbling an incoherent mess under his breath and grabbing at the roots of his hair. Minhwan wasn't sure how long Jonghun remained like that, or if he'd even gone to bed, but when Minhwan tried to ask what was wrong, Jonghun merely snapped a venomous “Don't talk to me!” and continued pacing.

 

Shin Hye chewed on her lower lip. “Should I be worried?”

 

“Probably,” was the insensitive answer Jaejin gave her, casually flipping through the magazine in his lap.

 

“Jaejin!” Seunghyun scolded, having been uncharacteristically quiet. Smiling, he then looked over at Shin Hye and said, “Shin Hye, just wait. In a few minutes, Hongki will march through that door, doing the Got Laid Parade, and then you'll all realize you worried for nothing. Didn't you see Jonghun waiting for him? I bet they've already picked out a wedding cake, those crazy lovebirds. Oh, I wonder if I'll get to be the best man!”

 

“Will you stop?” Minhwan hissed, wiping the idiotic grin right off Seunghyun's face. “Just shut up already. This isn't funny. Nobody's laughing, and if something happened to Hongki because of you and your dumb cupid complex, it'll be your head that gets chopped off.”

 

Seunghyun's lips drooped into a frown. “Minhwan—”

 

“Something's wrong, Seunghyun,” Minhwan interrupted, before he leant back in his seat and turned his attention back to his mobile game. “And if you can't see that, then there really is no helping you.” It nagged at him, Hongki not being here. It really began scaring him, Jonghun's impulsive and erratic behavior. He'd always been a bit off the handle, but lately it was as if Jonghun had gone completely off the deep end.

 

Seunghyun didn't respond to Minhwan's outburst. Instead, his gaze flicked over to Jaejin, who merely kept flipping through his magazine.

 

“Don't look at me,” he mumbled. “I'm staying out of it.”

 

It was quiet for a few minutes, save for the continuous bickering of Sunny and Jessica, but all Minhwan could focus on was the flurry of anxiety storming around his heart. It was hard on him, working without the fourth piece of the square that made up their band. They always worked best when they were all together, but now that there was a hole where Jonghun had been, their teamwork suffered.

 

They were never meant to work as a trio, but their quartet had been separated, and Minhwan didn't know how to glue it back together.

 

“Ah, Manager Yoon,” Jaejin greeted as the man walked in, setting the magazine aside and standing to his feet. “What brings you to this side of the tracks? More importantly, where did Yonghwa go? He just kind of disappeared as soon as he got here, and we have to leave soon.”

 

“Jung Yonghwa has been reassigned,” was all he said, a thick folder tucked under his arm.

 

Simultaneously, Minhwan and Seunghyun snapped their heads at him.

 

“Eh?” the three sputtered in unison.

 

“He has proven himself too lax in his judgment, and incapable of making sure you're exactly where you're supposed to be at any given time,” Manager Yoon explained, eyes blank, expression unreadable. “As of today, I am your new manager. I will be the one organizing all of your schedules, and escorting you to and from your dorm. You will not be going anywhere without me or one of the other managers accompanying you. That includes when you see friends, visit family, or anywhere else you feel the need to go.”

 

Jaejin hesitated, scratching the back of his head before saying, “Isn't that an invasion of privacy?”

 

“In light of certain events, we've come to the conclusion that you all can't be trusted to behave like the adults you are. Manager Jung has also shown he can't be trusted to maintain control over this team.” His expression hardened, and a stern gaze was aimed at each of the three members. “I will not give you the freedom or the power to walk all over me. I am not your friend, and I am not your parent. You will do as I say, or you will be reported directly to CEO Han. Are there any questions?”

 

Minhwan raised his hand, as if in a classroom. Manager Yoon's expression didn't change, and Minhwan slunk back a little in his seat.

 

“When can Jonghun promote with us again?”

 

“Choi Jonghun is suspended from this team until further notice,” were the words that sent silence throughout the room. “He will not be attending any future FT Triple events, and he will not be accompanying you to Japan. As of today, Jonghun's title as this team's leader has been stripped.”

 

“So what happens to us?” Minhwan asked quietly, unsettled by all this new information. It seemed Jaejin was right when he told Seunghyun to get used to being a trio, but Minhwan couldn't quite wrap his head around being a part of a band without Jonghun. It wasn't right. Without him, everything felt so incomplete.

 

If they were split up like this, everything would fall apart.

 

“Business as usual, Minhwan,” the new manager brushed off. “Now get off your butts, we're leaving.” Manager Yoon paused in the doorway on the way out, brow furrowing a little as he glanced around the room. Placing a hand on Jaejin's shoulder, he then said, “Jaejin, where is Lee Hongki?”

 

“We don't know,” Jaejin murmured, frowning. “We haven't seen him.”

 

Manager Yoon nodded. “Good. He's suspended too.”

 

 

 

><><><><

 

 

A/N

 

Holy crap, it's been so long since I've updated.
You're probably thinking I fell into a black hole, or got into a vortex somewhere, but to be perfectly honest, I haven't been doing much of anything since the semester ended.
I apologize for making you wait so long for this!
I have no excuse T_T

 

I posted the last chapter a few days before finals, and it's already August.
Goodness, how did that happen?
However, I've made a realization. 
I write a lot more when I'm stressed out. During the summer, I have nothing to do, so I generally don't feel up to writing most days.

 

But since the new semester starts up in a couple weeks, you can probably expect me to fall back into the habit of updating every few weeks or so.
So that's good news :)

 

As always, thank you all so much for all the support!
16 upvotes is just incredible to me, and I hope you keep enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it!
Thanks again!
See you next chapter ^^