“Noona, when are you coming to visit me?” a familiar voice whines from my phone. “You said you would come visit more than a year ago!”

“I will Junhong, I promise. It's just hard for me –”

“To get time away from school, I know... But I miss you, noona. I haven't seen you since Chuseok two years ago.”

I sigh. “I know, baby brother; I miss you, too. Look, I have some time off before exams starting next week, right on your nineteenth birthday – how 'bout I come see you then? I can only be in Seoul for a few days, but I can bring a cake and we can celebrate just like we did in the old days.”

“Don't call me 'baby brother!'” he grumps. “I'm a grown man and I'm not even your brother.”

“Well then, don't whine like a baby. How am I supposed to believe you're the grown man you claim to be when you don't behave like one?”

“Should I act more like Yongguk-hyung and just be quiet all the time?” he teased. “Or maybe Himchan-hyung, then: Noona is so pretty and smart. Noona should go out with me!”

A giggle bubbles up and soon we are laughing together like the days before he left. He has watched me date since he was in middle school and knows as well as I do that pretty words won't get a man anywhere with me. Himchan-ah is a sweetheart – though naturally flirtatious and a little childish, when I met Junhong's groupmates for the first time he and I had a lot to talk about. He is smarter than he lets on with his aegyo, though definitely sensitive; he takes what people say to heart – it was why he and Junhong fought the day we first met. Himchan-ah's flowery words made me giggle and I figured out quickly that it wasn't in earnest, and he knew I had. It was why he made such a show of it. Junhong however, didn't realize this was the case and blew me away when he blatantly disrespected Himchan-ah by telling him that “if all you've got is fancy words, all you'll get is rejected.”

I was shocked. Sweet Junhong, who had always been rambunctious and ambitious but never disrespectful, had insulted someone who was like a brother to him right in front of me. I was ready to give him hell for it when Himchan-ah beat me to it, cutting him down with a soft voice and sharp words. His face, naturally as pale as alabaster, coloured bright red and he apologized quietly before looking at me, ashamed.

“Noona...” he called softly.

I turned my head away and crossed my arm over my chest. “Don't 'noona' me. That was insulting to me, too.”

As I continued to intentionally ignore him, he sat down on the couch and scooched over to me, tugging one arm free to tuck himself under my arm and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Noona... Junhong-i is sorry.”

How he got me wrapped around his little finger to begin with I will never know, but I sighed dramatically and hugged him around his neck and leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

He laughed turning over to drape himself across my lap like he always had as a child, picking up my hand to place it on his head in a silent demand for attention. Sticking his tongue out at Himchan-ah's surprised expression, he then grinned: “My noona.”

Junhong and I had never lost contact during his training, and though he was never allowed to tell me what was happening it was just fine with us – it gave him a chance to just be a teenager. For me, I was happy to see that he was still the weird little kid from across the street, the one who never shut up about dance when I babysat him and who I very nearly had to tie down to his seat to make study during tutoring sessions. Things got hard after their debut, though. KakaoTalk has helped us keep in touch, but we never see each other anymore – or at least, he never sees me. I watch him perform on music shows, go to their concerts when I can, but it isn't the same. Plus I worry about my sanity; when I saw him two years ago he was still my height, skinny and awkward, still followed me around like a baby brother.

Then the One Shot era came around. Baby brother was no longer a baby and I found myself thinking of him as anything but a brother. This made me angry with myself.

How much older than him are you? I chastised myself constantly. You're terrible. One of those 'pedo-noonas' people always joke about except that you actually know him which makes it worse! Get your head on straight, stupid. He thinks of you as a big sister.

“... na... Noona. Jaehwa-noona!”

I jump, nearly dropping my poor mobile. “Yes! Sorry. I'm here.”

“Are you tired? I'm sorry. I really shouldn't phone you after the shows and keep you up so late. It must be hard for you at work when I bother you so late at night.”

“Not at all. I'm glad you do. I would miss you a lot more if we didn't talk whenever there's the chance.”

He chuckles softly. “If you're sure. I should go now, though.”

“Alright. Call me again when you can, baby brother.”

Silence.

“Junh–”

“Don't call me that. Please.” His voice his tight, almost begrudging.

“O-okay. I didn't mean to insult you. If I did, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize. It's not that. Anyway, you need to sleep; sweet dreams, Jaehwa-noona.”

“Goodnight, Junhong-i.”

*Beep*

That was it. No “I'm going to miss you, noona,” no “I'm gonna do some free-style tomorrow, I'll send you a link,” no long, drawn-out whine as I scolded him for talking to me for so long after a hard day and an early morning coming... nothing. Just a beep and the dial-tone.

“What's eating him?” I mutter to myself.

*****

Three days later, I have a backpack full of clothes in hand and a train ticket in my back pocket as I step out of a cab to stare up at the dorms. I barely look at the cabbie as I pay him, in awe of the building.

You're really living your dream aren't you? I think to myself, thoroughly impressed.

The last time I saw him was entirely impromptu and I never saw where he was living with his groupmates. I happened to be in Seoul doing an interview for my practicum and messaged him when I got out. I almost immediately received a call from an unknown number. He had borrowed their manager's phone since he couldn't call me from his iPod Touch. After a great deal of begging and whining and a bit of bargaining with chores, he convinced his group and their manager to let them meet me. We all ended up going to norebang, but very little singing got done now that I think about it.

“Noona!”

I don't even have time to turn around before someone slams into my back and picks me up, their arms wrapped tightly around me pinning my arms to my sides and making me drop my bag as they spin around a few times.

“Oh my god, put me down! Putmedownputmedownputmedown!”

As soon as my feet are back on the ground, I spin around and slap him across the chest. “You know I hate when people grab me from behind!”

Junhong pouts, rubbing his chest. “You hit hard, noona.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” I hiss.

He laughs loudly, opening his arms as he steps forward.

“I'll protect you, noona,” he tells me, still laughing as he winds his long arms around me, though he quickly sobers when I return his hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Suddenly I realize I'm not talking to his face anymore but to his chin. “What the hell is this? Who told you that you could grow so tall? I'm supposed to be your noona but you're almost fifteen centimetres taller than me – I demand you stop.”

“Very funny, noona. So where are you staying? Nearby? I can walk you there.”

I nod. “IP Boutique Hotel.”

“That's actually pretty close; I'm surprised you came here first.”

I pull away and feign offence, a hand over my heart.

“Are you trying to get rid of me? Himchan-ah! Junhong-i hates me!” I wail shoving Junhong away to pretend to bawl on his hyung's shoulder.

Ever the drama-llama, Himchan-ah hugs me back and pretends to comfort me through tears of his own. It's funny: he and I have only truly met once, sometimes joining in Junhong's KaTalk videochats with me on the group's iPod, and we are as thick as thieves. “It's okay, noona, you don't need him. Himchan-ah still loves you and that's all that matters!”

“What? No!” Junhong half-shouts. “You can't have her; she's my noona!”

I squeak with surprise when I'm suddenly dragged away from my partner in crime and I look up to see him smile and wink.

Wait. Did I miss something?

“Come on. We're getting you checked in at your hotel.”

With that, Junhong snatches my bag off the sidewalk and stalks quickly away, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist. It is almost a full block of struggling to keep up with his long legs and fast pace before he slows down, his grip loosening enough that I can pull away. I stop on the spot, sending him a puzzled look only to be met with a steely gaze. Whatever words I had planned to throw at him for his brash behaviour are suddenly lost when he walks back over and stands close, forcing me to look up to look him in the eye.

All of a sudden my brain is shutting down and I'm getting lost in him. His normally gentle eyes are sharply focused, burning into me and I can feel my face heating up.

“That... What was... my wrist...”

“You shouldn't be so touchy-feely with a man who isn't your boyfriend,” he mutters, frustration edging into his voice. He suddenly picks up my hand and inspects my wrist. “Are you okay? I didn't mean to be so rough.”

No. No. He's nineteen. He thinks of you as a sister.

“Didn't you just get through saying I shouldn't be touchy-feely with men –”

“If they're not your boyfriend,” he finishes quietly, not looking up at me. “Looks like it's okay. I can get some ice for you once we get there, if you want.”

I give him a silent nod, which he returns. The rest of the walk is thankfully much slower and I find myself enjoying everything; Junhong still walks faster than me because of his long legs, but he never gets too far ahead, stopping to wait for me if I fall more than a few feet behind. When we arrive he follows me up to the desk with my bag slung over his shoulder, asking the concierge for an ice pack for me as I check in.

“I will have one sent up to the room,” the young man smiles. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Yeah.” Junhong reaches into his pocket and slides some money across the counter. “I was never here.”

“Who wasn't here?” he asks before glancing over at me with a sly smile.

I gape. “No. No, it's not what you're thinking, I swear. My reservation is for a single room!”

He simply bows politely as Junhong winds an arm around my waist and leads me away.

“Come on, noona,” he says in a sing-song voice. “Let's go check out your room.”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

I flat out refuse to talk to him as we make our way up to my room, turning my head away as he gets more and more desperate to catch my attention.

“Noona, don't be angry with Junhong-i,” he said, pouting. “I was just teasing. You're –“

“You are an idol, you idiot!” I finally snarl. “You ought to know how much trouble you can get in for saying like that, even if you are joking around!”

The elevator chimes and the doors slide open soundlessly, allowing me all the noise in vicinity as I snatch my bag from his grip and storm out. I hear him calling after me, but I ignore him entirely as I continue down the hallway. His words are lost on me over the sound of my struggle with the key card, my frustration with Junhong making even this smallest of actions almost impossible. I attempt to slam the door behind me, but the sound of a hand stopping the door makes me turn around only to be grabbed by the shoulders and dragged up against Junhong's chest.

“Jaehwa-noona, please don't be angry at me; it wasn't my intention to upset you.”

His arms slowly wind around me and he drops his head onto my shoulder. Truthfully, I am less bothered by his jokes than by other things, the biggest one being the future of his career. TS knows how to handle trouble, but that doesn't mean he isn't playing with fire by saying things that can easily cause a scandal. I sigh, frustrated, at everything and he nuzzles against me with another whispered apology.

“You could get dropped from your company, Junhong. I don't want your dream to slip away because you were just joking around with an old friend. And even if it isn't that drastic, what about backlash from sasaengs and anti-fans? You could get hurt making such careless jokes.”

“But...”

“'But,' what?”

Something warm presses softly against the skin of my shoulder left exposed by my wide-collar sweater and I freeze.

“What if I'm not just goofing off?”

“Jun-Junhong,” I stammer when his lips become more insistent. “You can't. I'm seven years –”

“You say that like you think would I care,” he growls against my skin. “As far as I'm concerned, the only bad thing about you being older than me is that I had to wait all these years to do something about it while you wasted your precious time with those boys, instead of being with me. I'm nineteen. A man. It's fine, now.”

“What if...if I don't like you the same way?” I lie, my words pausing as I try to push my own feelings down.

“You do,” he chuckled lightheartedly. “I grew up with you. I know you. The way you talk with me has changed a lot over the past couple years – you act different.”

His lips pass over an especially sensitive spot and I inhale sharply, trying to keep quiet.

“There?” he asks, his voice dropping low and sending shivers up and down my spine.

Without a moment to spare, he attacks the spot and I can't stop the guttural moan that escapes my lips as I begin to melt into his embrace. Just when I wrap my arms around him, pressing us closer together, he suddenly pulls away with an evil little chuckle.

“Maybe later, noona. You still need to come out to the celebrate my birthday, but first I need to borrow your bathroom.”

Before I can even ask what just happened he kisses my temple and heads towards the bathroom, walking oddly. My face turns bright red when my brain catches up and I realize why.

Leaving him alone, I go to put my things on the bed and inspect the “damage.” Sure enough, there's a decent-sized red spot decorating my skin – it's going to bruise and his hyungs will likely never shut up if they see it. Truthfully, my own brain won't shut up about it, either. From what he was saying his feelings are nothing new, so how the hell did I miss it? Then again if I had realized, I still couldn't and wouldn't have done anything. I tried so hard to treat him no different even though he was quickly becoming a man I couldn't ignore. And yet despite only talking through videos and texts, he figured me out. Cute, sweet, and sharp as a tack; who am I kidding, still trying to friendzone the whole thing? If his little demanding display of affection wasn't enough to convince me he is on the same page and wants otherwise, his awkward walk to the bathroom afterwards sure was. I quickly change my shirt before Junhong comes out and search through my bag for a scarf.

“What, you don't like my handiwork?” he chuckles.

“Your hyungs...”

He pauses a moment. “Yeah, that's true... So I noticed you didn't bring my cake with you.”

“There was an incident at the station. Stairs were involved.”

Junhong laughs.

“Hey!”

“Sorry. I'm sorry,” he manages, still chuckling. “As long as you're okay. Do you still need that ice?”

I shake my head gently, whispering I'll be fine. Just as I am reaching for the door, his hand lands on mine and I look up at him. Though his face his is serious, his eyes are warm.

“The confession I had planned out in my head was nothing like what I went with, acting on impulse like that and I'm sorry for it, Jaehwa-noona; you deserve something so much more romantic. We have some time before they're expecting us back – I told them I was going to tell you today – so let's go somewhere first so I can say it properly and we can take everything slowly like it should be.”

A soft smile tugs at the corners of my lips and I bring our hands up to kiss his fingers. “Sounds lovely, Junhong-i.”