It was 3am. 3 a-ing-m in the morning and honestly after all the promotions they'd been doing, Junhong really was not okay with being woken up by the sound of... The sound of...

Smashing?

He jerked himself awake and sat up. Bewilderedly he looked around, eyes bleary with tiredness and unable to make out shapes in the dark. The shattering sound was louder now he was conscious and definitely happening within the dorm. We're they being robbed?

He rolled out of bed and tried to stand up in an easy, quiet motion, but managed to get caught in the bedsheets. In the end he gave in to their soft warmth and draped himself in them, keeping his bare arms from the chill of the night. Taking a deep breath, he tip-toed out of his room, careful not to wake any of his hyungs who seemed to be still asleep despite the racket.

The lights were on in the kitchen, filling the hallway with a harsh glow that made each shadow even darker. Between each loud shattering sound he could hear heavy breathing and heavy footfalls. Whoever it was, they had no intention to keep quiet about it.

Somehow, knowing that someone in that room was actively breaking breaking things sent a cold sweat over the maknae. Was it some kind of anti-fan, sneaking into the dorm in the dead of the night to destroy their home? Would he get attacked if he tried to do anything? His skin crawled and he could feel every bit of lint on the floor beneath his feet and his once so cosy blankets felt flimsy and irritated at his skin.

With only the knowledge that he was likely going to at least have a height advantage over whoever had invaded their home, he took a step into the kitchen.

The scene he walked into made him subconsciously pinch himself in case he woke up.

Jongup was completely dressed, as though he'd never gone to bed, and his hair a mess. He was pulling a plate from a cupboard. He took two run-up steps across the kitchen and flung the plate like a frisbee. It collided with the far wall and smashed, the porcelain fragments falling into a pile of similar pieces beneath it.

“Hyung,” Junhong said before he could stop himself.

Jongup didn't even flinch, just turned to look at the younger as he marched back to the cupboard. “Yeah?” he asked, voice mild as though he'd been casually eating lunch rather than breaking plates at 3am.

“Um,” he began, but realised there was really no polite way to word it, “why are you breaking the plates?”

Jongup did not answer immediately, choosing to give the next plate a particularly nice spin like a discus as he threw it. “Because I can,” he said, “and because I feel like it.”

“Oh.” It was all he could manage. It was all that could really be said, not he looked at the situation. If he called the others but it would piss the dancer off a lot and the others would definitely not take the situation well. If he tried to stop him, he'd likely be unsuccessful and he wasn't entirely sure what the likelihood of Jongup punching him was. Instead he perched himself on a nearby chair and watched the older throw plate after plate.

There was a moment where Jongup ran out of plates, and instead began looking for other things to throw. The only other immediate option was a shelf of cups he was only just too short to reach with ease. Out of habit, Junhong slid out of the blanket as he stood up and grabbed one for him. They both paused and looked at each other, both equally surprised by this development. The pause was short, however, and Jongup reached for the cup.

Just as his fingers brushed the surface, Junhong found himself pulling the glass away from the dancer's reach. Jongup looked up a him with such vehemence in his eyes that the maknae almost fell over his own words.

“I'm not stopping you!” he insisted, trying to keep his voice low, “I just- I- Can I throw one?”

Jongup eyed him for a moment, then nodded, “Sure.”

And it was as simple as that. Junhong passed the glass over, got one for himself, and only needed to take one step to get a good sling of the arm. The cups smashed with clear, pretty sounds and tinkled to the ground in tiny pieces that glittered in the light. It was the most cathartic thing he'd ever done, and with each broken glass he felt more and more alive. He even found himself grinning when he and Jongup moved onto the wine glasses, which broke in various different ways depending on the angle they hit the wall. By the time Jongup threw an entire bottle of wine that exploded across the wall and flecked most of the room in red droplets and left a massive pool on the floor like a violent crime had been committed, he wasn't even bothered by the horrendous crash it made or the strong smell it filled the room with.

He also, he found himself almost surprised by, wasn't bothered when a furious deep voice cut through their chaos with a “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

The maknae line turned their attention to Yongguk, who was stood in the doorway with an expression Junhong didn't think he'd ever seen on his face. Behind him Daehyun and Youngjae were looking at the mess with confused sleepiness. Himchan's face was livid.

“I dunno hyung,” Junhong found himself saying with casual ease, “What do you think? We're breaking stuff.”

Yongguks face didn't change, but the others' eyes widened behind him. A creeping sense of doom filled the maknae's stomach and sent chills up his spine.

“Maybe you didn't understand what I meant,” Yongguk said in a terrifyingly controlled voice, “Why are breaking everything in the kitchen?”

Junhong opened his mouth to say something, but his throat had gone dry and closed up. His hands felt clammy and he desperately wished he'd kept the blanket on for some kind of protection. Before he could even begin to grovel, Jongup interrupted him.

“Because we can,” he said quietly, in the same tone he'd used before, “and because we want to.”

There was a horrifying moment as the two members fixed each other with equally icy stares. Eventually, Himchan desperately stepped in to dissolve the situation.

“Jongup, Junhong, go to bed. We'll talk in the morning when no one is tired and cranky. Bbang, go sit down. You two,” he flicked a finger towards Daehyun and Youngjae, who still hadn't quite grasped what was happening, “help me clean this up?”

The vocalists immediately broke out in loud complaints.

“What? That's so unfair, we didn't do anything!”

“Make them clean it up, they're the ones who broke everything!”

“They need to be punished for going weird like this!”

“We should be the ones going back to bed, not them!”

“Shut up,” Himchan cut them off, “Just listen to me for once, okay?”

“He's right,” Yongguk said quietly, surprising the vocal line into silence, “You two should go to bed. Now.”

Junhong really did not want to do that. He knew he should be the one to stay up and clean, and guilt tore at his stomach as he thought of his hyungs trying to scrub the wine out of the floor. Before he could even attempt to say anything, Jongup once again cut him off.

“Fine.”

The dancer looked incredibly uninterested by the entire situation and it unnerved Junhong in a way he couldn't put into words. He almost wished he'd walked in on an intruder rather than his own friend – if this was indeed the person he'd known all these years. He looked to Yongguk, eyes wide and pleading. The older looked back at him with such disappointment in his eyes that the maknae almost threw himself to his knees to beg for forgiveness. Instead, when Jongup pushed past him to walk out of the kitchen, he found himself hanging his head and following the dancer out.

When they were far enough away, Junhong grabbed Jongups arm and dragged him into the bathroom and locked them in. He turned around, arms crossed over his chest and leaned against the door to stop the shorter from escaping.

“What was that about?” He hissed over the hum of the extractor fan. The tiled bathroom floor was drilling cold into the soles of his feet and he tried to ignore it. It occurred to him that he'd left his blanket in the kitchen and there was no way he was returning.

“You tell me,” Jongup replied evenly, “You were doing it as well.”

“That's not the point. I was doing it because you were doing it- don't raise your eyebrow at me like that! Why are you dressed at 3am? Why were you breaking stuff?”

“I was out for a walk.” Jongup turned his face away, apparently very interested by the hand towel on the wall.

“Okay. So you went for a walk at night. Okay. Why did you come back and break plates?”

“Should I not have come back?”

“Jongup!”

“I-” Jongup's brow furrowed and he pursed his lips. Junhong waited silently, heart beating against his rib cage as he waited for a response. What he said next was not what Junhong had expected. “I like someone,” he confessed quietly.

There was a very long moment of silence between them, disturbed only by the fan and the distant sounds of the vocalists complaining and the clinks of broken crockery being cleaned up. The door was beginning to warm up the longer Junhong leaned against it and Jongup had apparently developed a great fascination with the way the texture of the towel moved under his fingers.

“Hyung,” the maknae eventually managed, “if this is how you are when you like someone,I can't imagine how you would be dating someone.”

He had meant to make a joke, try to get a smile out of the man before him who he barely even felt like he knew any more. Instead Jongup's face fell into despair and he let out a groan and fell against the wall.

“Woah! Hyung are you okay? What's wrong?” Concerned, Junhong rushed forwards and reached out to put a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. “I was just teasing you...”

It didn't seem to help much, and instead Jongup buried his face in his hands and shook a little. When a small gasp escaped between his fingers, the maknae realised the older man was crying.

“Oh, oh . Did I say something wrong? , I'm sorry.” He pulled the short, shaking man into his arms and the silver hair soothingly.

“It's not you,” Jongup managed, words muffled against Junhong's chest, “It's...”

“It's what?” Junhong asked, pulling away a little to look at the tear-stained face, “What is it?”

“Himchannie-hyung.”

“What?” Junhong's brows knitted together, “What did he do?”

“No. It's me who's done something wrong,” Jongup hiccuped.

“Huh?” Junhong blinked at him, baffled. Jongup looked up at him, eyes red and lips trembling. Then he said something, in a quiet shaking voice, that explained everything:

“I like Himchannie-hyung.”