The hotel room is empty when Yonghwa closes the door behind him, hair long time ago lost its actual style and clothes drenches in sweat, uncomfortably clinging into his skin. He needs a bath as soon as possible, preferably a long one with hot water, surrounded by the scent of his favorite soap. Kicking his shoes off, Yonghwa makes his way towards his luggage, unpacked because what’s the point of it, anyway? They’ll check out as early as possible tomorrow, rushed into the next stop of their tour. Yonghwa has lost count on what country they would be performing next and the fact that he minds about it less and less each time makes him feel like a .

The room is empty; meaning that Jonghyun must be off somewhere, hanging out with his own circle of friend. Yonghwa finds the lack of the younger presence relieving. He can barely stay still whenever the two of them shared a room, too many things he wants to ask, to demand, to confess, since the last time he left Jonghyun’s house with an ache in his heart and didn’t find the guitarist trying to stop him.

It’s a pity, actually, because he and Jonghyun was like a magnet; two different personalities that flocked together. But then the push and pull becoming unbearable, whatever keeping them together starts to fade and Yonghwa remembers that his last ‘I love you’ barely makes a spark inside him anymore. Sometimes he thinks it’s a good thing that their relationship comes to an end already, before the fights get worse and apologies lost its meaning as they try to make it work.

He grabs his toothbrush and is in the process of turning his luggage upside down to find his soap when his ears catch a soft beep he’s familiar with. It’s not his phone—he always set it in vibrate mode—then it must be Jonghyun’s. Yonghwa stands back up and spies the said phone; the white case makes it barely visible on the white sheet.

Against his better judgment, he drops his toothbrush back onto his pile of clothes and walks towards the balcony. The glass window is closed but unlocked, hiding behind the dark curtains the hotel provides. Yonghwa sticks his head out, barely noticing Jonghyun’s figure leaning back against the wall among the darkness if it isn’t from the smell of smoke hanging in the air.

Yonghwa finds the lamp switch and flips it on, surrounding the balcony with sudden brightness.

“!” Jonghyun jumps, turning his head towards Yonghwa so fast he wonders his neck doesn’t snap. His eyes widen. “, you scared me half to death.”

Yonghwa feels the edge of his lips pulled upwards and he lets himself laugh. “I wish you could see your face.”

“Hahaha. Yeah, real funny.” He can imagine Jonghyun rolls his eyes but when Yonghwa’s eyes focusing back on him he’s already turn away. The slight smile on his lips makes it safe for Yonghwa to scoot along, leaning against the wall next to the guitarist.

He watches as Jonghyun lifts the cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke slowly as the burning on the edge of his stick momentarily grows brighter. Jonghyun smokes a lot back then in Japan but quitting as they debuted, knowing the danger of ruining his voice.

“I don’t know you smoke again.”

Jonghyun leans his head back, smoke flowing out from nostrils and slightly parted mouth. Yonghwa’s eyes linger on the long, stretched neck before he could stop himself. “I picked it up again.”

Why? “Throw it away.”

The guitarist eyes him slightly, a familiar challenging smirk on his lips. “Make me.”

“You little .” Yonghwa reaches out to flick the cigarette off but changing his mind halfway there. He drops his hand in defeat. “Never mind, give me some.”

This is the worst idea his brain ever invent, Yonghwa wants to bang his head against the wall and letting a hole swallowing him right there. He has his fair share of hard times to accepting Jonghyun back as a band mate, as a younger brother. There is no way they could go back to the innocent, unsuspecting friendship they once had but what they have in the moment; careful tap on shoulder, strained laugh between each other, Yonghwa thinks it’s good enough.

He’s going to ruin everything.

The thing is, when the push and pull is entirely gone, the longing comes. Sometimes Yonghwa wakes up smiling to a dream where Jonghyun never left, smiling too widely to a text that rarely comes, muffling a certain name against pillow as he comes all over his hand.

Jonghyun raises his eyebrows so high they’ll hit the ceiling but he fishes out a cigarette box from his pocket and shoving it to Yonghwa’s waiting hand. “You’re the vocalist.”

“Shut up.”

Yonghwa smokes too, recently, when lyric stuck and melody doesn’t work and deadline gets closer. He keeps it secret from everyone but there is this childish, proud satisfaction of sharing even one little secret with Jonghyun. “You wouldn’t tell this to anyone.”

“It sounds like a threat.” Jonghyun scoffs.

“It is.”

Back then Jonghyun would laugh and proceeds to punch him playfully. The Jonghyun next to him take another drag and doesn’t say anything, simply exhales and stares at the empty street below them. The fluorescent light makes his skin even paler and Yonghwa notices the dark circles around his eyes somehow darker than usual.

“Is there something wrong?” He blurts out. Jonghyun looks at him with such an expression that Yonghwa feeling hot shame climbs up his cheeks. “I-i mean, if it’s something within the band, we can talk it out…”

He gives up mid-sentence, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed at the little affection he has shown. It’s casual if he asks it during their meeting but right now, when there is only the two of them together, Yonghwa doesn’t feel safe.

“No, I guess.” Jonghyun answers slowly, giving away the fact that he’s taken aback by Yonghwa’s question. “But thanks for asking.” He adds quickly but it makes Yonghwa feels even tier, recognizing the awkward, polite tone in Jonghyun’s voice.

It feels like the more he tries to reach for the younger man, the further Jonghyun keeps their distance. He knows there is something wrong, easily sensing it from the years of observing his band mates and picking up their individual quirks.

Yonghwa tries a pathetic attempt to save his own pride. “Well, it’s nothing but something feels off… but maybe I’m just tired, right? I haven’t had a good sleep for two days, not to count the jet lag—“

He cringes mentally.

Jonghyun laughs, forced and unnatural. “Yeah, you do look like a zombie.”

Yonghwa grins but his heart clenches. I miss you.

He misses Jonghyun who mocks him endlessly, who laughs his off watching his drama and later kiss him an apologize, who laughs even at his most terrible jokes, who tackles him down as soon as Yonghwa entering the room. This Jonghyun feels so much more mature, so familiar yet not quite the same. He’s there all the time but Yonghwa misses him terribly, the gnawing ache grows stronger and stronger each day until it hurts to even look at him.

Yonghwa lowers his cigarette, watching the smoke dances around him as he contemplating his choice. He has always wanted to do this but his pride keeps him from actually doing it. Well, he has already embarrassed himself anyway, probably one more time wouldn’t hurt—

You’re selfish, his mind warns him but Yonghwa has had enough.

“Jonghyun?”

The younger man turns to look at him, dark bangs falling on his eyes. “Yes?”

Yonghwa sighs, letting go of what’s left of his pride. “I miss you.”

Jonghyun stares at him blankly as seconds passed, his expression unchanged. Yonghwa can’t take it, can’t ignore the hurt and loneliness growing stronger than ever inside him. He stuffs his cigarette into an ashtray, wasting no time to step back into his room. His soap is still nowhere to be found but the hotel soap isn’t so bad. He just needs to be alone right now.

 All those years he spends smothering his feelings is destroyed already. Whatever friendship he has with Jonghyun now completely ruined, all because Yonghwa can’t keep his mouth shut. He probably ruined the band too, for ’s sake and he dares called himself a leader—

“Yonghwa.” He doesn’t know since when Jonghyun is on his tail but whatever he’s going to say, Yonghwa deserves it. He flinches as Jonghyun yanks him back, preparing himself for the punch, or verbal attack if he’s lucky, but neither comes to him.

“Moron.” Jonghyun mutters under his breath and that’s the last thing Yonghwa could register before Jonghyun’s lips is on him and it just feels the same.

He tastes and smells heavily like cigarette but it doesn’t matter. Jonghyun is here, Jonghyun doesn’t leave and he kisses him like there is no tomorrow. For a moment Yonghwa’s stunned, standing still and feeling Jonghyun’s lips glide over his; wet and warm and soft.

Then his sense comes back to him and Yonghwa starts kissing back, parting his mouth and accidentally their teeth clack together awkwardly. Jonghyun lets out a sound, probably a laugh if he isn’t busy repositioning their head, holding Yonghwa’s jaw so gently he almost couldn’t feel it. At that moment Yonghwa feels like he could reach up and touch the stars and crazy things like that. All those worries, heartache, longing; it feels like a heavy burden is being taking off from his shoulder.

When they both pull away, gasping for air, Jonghyun starts laughing and Yonghwa feels his face is going to split from the huge smile he can’t help. “You moron.” Jonghyun repeats between his laugh and it’s the most beautiful sound Yonghwa ever heard. “You should have stop beating around the bush like, wow—“ Jonghyun kisses him again, slow and deep this time. “I miss you too.” He says at least, almost shyly.

Yonghwa, still at loss of words, takes his hand, as if convincing himself that Jonghyun is here, truly here and wouldn’t leave again. He struggles to think, overwhelmed by smile on Jonghyun’s face, the lingering taste of his lips, the calloused fingers entwining between his own.

There is a lot to talk about but those could wait. Yonghwa leans back against the bathroom door, willing himself to say something nice, something sweet but the words that leave his mouth is: “Want to join me in the shower, Jonghyun?”