There was a sharp bite in the air the morning they were set to leave town. Seunghyun shrugged into his bubble jacket and stepped out into the chill air. Breath fogging before his eyes, he rubbed his hands together vigorously and jogged in place.

The crisp air reminded him of a better time: a time when it was easier to be around one another. He wondered if they could recapture the way they had felt for each other during the taping of “Family Outing,” when Daesung had let his guard down on camera and revealed how excited he was to have his hyung on the show. Or was that all an act as well?

Seunghyun shivered. No, he wouldn’t dwell on the possibility that they weren’t made for each other. It had taken too many years, too many tears, too much exasperation, too much ual frustration, and too many awkward conversations with his band mates. Even the maknae had noticed that they were unhappy and barely functional when apart.

Yet the atmosphere between the two of them had grown frosty as of late. The only difference now, of course, was that he was having on a regular basis. But even the was different. Daesung rode him with the fury of a man out for vengeance time and again. When they were sated, he climbed off and rolled to the far side of the bed. They used to hold each other until it became too uncomfortable. They used to talk until their speech slurred with drowsiness.

“Daesung!” he called. His echoes were his only response.

                                                                                                                *****

Yesterday Youngbae had patted him on the upper arm, eyes full of encouragement thinly coating a layer of concern.

“Have a safe trip,” he said.

For all that Daesung had worried about what Youngbae would think of the affair, he had been the first to hug the both of them when they announced their relationship. He knew that Seunghyun cared for his younger church brother to an insane degree, and he could only hope to find a girl that felt the same way about him in the future.   

Jiyong had come out of the recording booth to wish him well. Large headphones hung around his neck, and he wore a white hoodie covered in a colorful alphabet letter pattern. Inflecting his voice just so, he told him to text him if he needed anything. Seunghyun knew he meant relationship advice — the sort which he had requested on more than one occasion (an embarrassing number of times, if he was being honest) before he finally got together with Daesung.

Seungri had risen  from the black leather couch where he had been lounging, sunglasses covering his eyes. His hair was mussed up in the back and he leaned heavily into Jiyong for support.

“Good luck,” he managed, before closing his mouth against what may or may not have been the urge to vomit.

“You are disgusting, maknae,” said Jiyong affectionately.

Youngbae danced back and forth behind Jiyong’s back, trying to entertain Seungri from his perch on the leader’s shoulder. Seunghyun thought he looked like a father dangling keys in front of a baby.

“Stop,” he muttered. “I’m getting seasick.”

Youngbae raised his gray tank top and flashed him in the gesture of one who no longer remembers what it feels like to be hungover. Not even bothering to turn around, Jiyong remarked, “If only our VIPs knew how much of an exhibitionistic tease their dear Taeyang is towards the poor maknae in his old age.”

Youngbae held his hands up, mouthing “How does he know?” to Seunghyun.

“Seriously, hyung,” Jiyong said. “Let me know if you need anything. If he’s being a bit of a — well, I know you love the guy, but he’s been treating you like to be perfectly frank. If he’s being a standoffish , let me know and I’ll sort him out.”

Seungri snuffled against his neck.

“Got to send the little one home. We didn’t really need him here today, anyway.”

“What,” went a flat voice muffled by Jiyong’s hoodie.

“We just like to make you suffer,” Jiyong said, before casually tossing a remark over his shoulder to a confused-looking Youngbae.

“Three words: mirrored wall, .”

                                                                                                                *****

“Daesung-ah!” Seunghyun repeated, voice booming in the morning silence.

“Are you trying to scare off the birds?” Daesung asked softly, his voice gravelly from sleep. He stood in the doorway, bundled up as if it was the middle of winter instead of an unexpectedly cold day in the beginning of autumn: cable-knit hat, forest green wool scarf, gray pea coat, fleece gloves, and what Seunghyun surmised were a pair of women’s boots.

“I’m trying to scare you into being on time for once. Why are you dressed like an arthritic grandmother?”

“Why are you ?”

“Why, are you interested?”

“Why, can’t you tell even through all these layers?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows and motioning suggestively towards his nether region.

Seunghyun grinned. He missed this: banter, ease, warmth, Daesung’s eyes disappearing into a beatific smile.

Daesung beamed. He grabbed the middle finger of his right glove, pulled it off, and extended his bare hand to his boyfriend. Seunghyun stared.

“Hurry up,” he whined. “I’m cold.”

So he gratefully took the extended olive branch without question and tried to stop worrying long enough to enjoy being in the company of his boyfriend. Daesung grabbed his duffle bag and Seunghyun swung his backpack over his shoulder. They jostled each other trying to lock the front door, but they smiled instead of arguing and they didn’t let go. Seunghyun took a deep breath and tried to cherish each moment as they walked to the waiting car, hand-in-hand.

There was no telling when the facade would come back up.