Hongbin is distracted.

Not that Taekwoon cares, but it’s unusual; till these days, the boy had put his whole attention on him, be it quietly or chattering away. To see him seated a few feet away from him, utterly concentrated on the phone in his hands, a small smile – there’s a hint of dimples on his left cheek, not enough to make him want to dip his finger into it – adorning his lips. Every once in a while he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head after; he absentmindedly caresses the black puppy – so cute – perched on his lap, asleep.

Caramel nips at his fingers at the lack of attention, and he coos softly, picking her up – she’s grown bigger than the last time he saw her, and there’s no longer a bandage on her little paw, to his relief – with both hands, mindful to not disturb Sangsan at his shoulder, or Dumpling on his legs, the Pit-bull  puppy sprawled all over him, peacefully chewing a rubber toy. Mingyu plays by his feet, seeming to take an almost sadistic pleasure in bothering a clearly annoyed Mocha, who has been for the past few minutes trying to get on top of Taekwoon’s legs.

Honestly, he could spend the whole day like this, basking in the fuzzy feelings the babies cause on him, hiding away from prying eyes. It’s nice being in here, nicer than his usual hiding place by the B1’s fourth floor staircase, as being surrounded by cute animals is like a dream come true; once upon a time, Taekwoon thought of studying Veterinary himself, stretching the idea for as long as he could, only to give up when it mattered. At that time he had too much in his head – Sanghyuk slowly getting better, Hakyeon’s treading on the edge of exhaustion, his family’s eyes on him, silently questioning, pressuring for him to make a decision – and in the end, look at him: he deals with animals alright, but with people? He’s an absolute disaster, willingly or not. He simply lacks the required social skills to deal with others and to be honest, it’s not like he cares about it.

He has only ever needed Hakyeon, Sanghyuk worming his way into his life long after. To this day, the other two are everything he can possibly want, everything he’ll ever need besides his family.

The ugly coil on his stomach that reminds him of Hongbin’s words – “Are they together? They seem close.” – spins and turns. Repeats over and over on his head, together with the image of them both that day, bodies glued and obvious love surrounding the entire room, emanating from the way Hakyeon’s eyes looked down on the boy he cradled on his chest, to the possessive, but not less tender hold Sanghyuk had on the other. The bitterness he feels just by thinking it makes him sick.

Hongbin giggles at whatever he’s looking at on his phone, and Taekwoon feels a jab of annoyance at the younger boy, whose dimples are now in full display, hair a mess from running his hand through it too many times. He has no idea, right? Has not a single clue of what his words that day are doing to Taekwoon, the type of turbulence he’s arising on Taekwoon’s life. Besides, he should keep his excitement to himself; it’s rude to act so carefree in the presence of a hyung.

Still bitter, and with annoyance mixing inside of him – what can possibly make the other so cheerful? Wasn’t he the one who insisted in going after Taekwoon over and over again? Why would he be so distracted? Ugh, so irritating – Taekwoon starts to sing in a low voice, letting his voice take the breathy tones his teachers call deadly; he sees himself succeed when the chuckles immediately stop and Hongbin turns wide, disbelieving eyes to him, attention captured like Taekwoon expected. His voice is his greatest attribute, he knows it, the B1 knows it, the entire university has heard rumors about it – he may ignore most things people say, but that doesn’t mean he’s deaf – and now Hongbin knows about it too. Satisfaction bubbles inside him, replacing some of the bitterness, and Taekwoon maintains his gaze fixed on Hongbin’s, enjoying his slack jaw, the flush on his cheeks and his very focused eyes more than normally.

Every high note he reaches has Hongbin looking more marveled; Taekwoon lets his lips stretch minimally, unbelievably satisfied with the shift in their situation. Hongbin’s phone lies on his lap, forgotten.

So it’s natural for him to continue even when the music ends, humming different tones under his breath, songs he likes and songs he’s composing, all while caressing Caramel’s orange fur, the perfect picture of guiltlessness. He hides his face on her back when he sees Hongbin approaching slowly, inconspicuously, cheeks red. He won’t admit, but he smiles a little with the action. Caramel’s fur is fluffy and it tickles his nose.

Changing songs, Taekwoon avoids looking at Hongbin’s entire persona, ignoring him just like he did to him. Sangsan provides the perfect distraction; the tabby kitten nips his left ear and plays with the dangling earrings he likes to wear, tiny claws nick at his neck, sharp, although not painful. Cuddling Caramel on one arm – and nearly fainting at how cute she is, all wrapped around herself, purring like a mini tractor – he picks the other kitten situated on his shoulder. Excited, Sangsan bites into the skin of his hand, and Taekwoon grunts softly. For a kitten not much bigger than Caramel, she surely bites hard.

“Sangsan!” Hongbin immediately is all over him, taking her from him – he lets himself pout at this; he has the situation under control – and frowning at the squirming tabby. “Are you okay hyung?”

Taekwoon nods, but Hongbin ignores him; he releases Sangsan – who leaves with an outraged meow – and goes straight for his hand, analyzing the small droplets of blood blooming from the indentations made by Sangsan’s teeth with a deepening frown. He’s still unfairly handsome, if a little silly, worrying with something so minor.

“Someone really needs to teach that tabby better manners,” Hongbin grumbles under his breath, grabbing Taekwoon’s hand in between his.

It’s warm, and Taekwoon recognizes the few callouses on the fingers as similar to his own, born out of hours spent on a guitar. They fit well together, and it’s different from when he holds Hakyeon or Sanghyuk’s hands. Hakyeon’s are smooth and tan, perfectly manicured and they always remember Taekwoon of home; Sanghyuk’s are larger and full of sinuous lines and raised skin, rough but always gentle when handling something precious. Hongbin’s hand is nothing like them; tingles shot up his arm, and somehow they seem to fit better, his and Hongbin’s. It’s weird, noticing these differences, for he never really touched anyone besides Hakyeon, Sanghyuk and his family, not in this way; Hongbin holds his injured hand with care and worry, thumb rubbing soothing patterns on his palm.

“…ung? Hyung?” he blinks, focusing on Hongbin, whose face is pinched in unease. He’s indeed handsome, even up close. “You spaced-out for a moment; should we get up? To clean this?”

Taekwoon inclines his head to the side, silently disagreeing. There are babies on top of him; of course he won’t get up. Hongbin seems to understand, as he smiles – his teeth are very white, and his dimples are deeper up close – fondly, running fingers through his messy hair.

He releases his hand, and Taekwoon doesn’t understand why it seems awkward by itself. “You’re wrapped around their little paws hyung. If you continue in this position for much longer, your joints are going to kill you.”

A pout juts his lips as he huffs. “… I’m not old.”

The smile on Hongbin’s face dips to one side, suddenly cheeky. “I don’t know… Hyung is two years older than me and clearly on the wrong side of twenties.”

It takes him a moment to process the phrase; when he does, Taekwoon can’t be expected to contain his mouth from opening in shock. “What?”

Hongbin hums, getting up and walking towards a big cabinet on one corner of the room; he opens doors and starts to search for something, the line of his back well defined by the light long-sleeved shirt he wears.

“What~?”

Youth. Acting so disrespectfully.

Coming back with hands full of bandages, antiseptic cream, band aids, gauze, a bottle of water and even a bottle full of white pills, Hongbin sits by his side again. It’s way too much for the 4 small scratches on his hand, and Taekwoon lifts his eyes to the younger boy incredulously.

“Unnecessary.”

Hongbin flushes light pink, fingers on his hair, no sign of his previous sass. Something glitters on his eyes, “I won’t ever be careless when it comes to your wellbeing.”

It catches him so suddenly Taekwoon feels his face burn hotly, throat dry and incredulous blinking; his mind is blank and he doesn’t react when Hongbin grimaces, a visible shiver shaking his shoulders as he reaches Taekwoon’s hand. He’s been doing this an awfully lot of times, giving himself the right to grab his hand at any time he wants. It’s the third time today and by now, Taekwoon is starting to get accustomed with the feel of them together.  He doesn’t try to release it from Hongbin’s grip, something that would be easy, as Hongbin holds it softly.

“That was so corny,” Hongbin whines under his breath, scrunching his nose. He meets Taekwoon’s eyes staring straight at him and yelps. “Not that it isn’t true!”

Taekwoon snorts, lowering his gaze back to their hands.

First comes the antiseptic cream, them the bandages, covering most of the back of his hand; it’s an overkill if Taekwoon has ever seen one, and he lives with Hakyeon, the mother of mother hens. Hongbin forces the water on him, and asks if he wants the pills.

“It’s for the pain,” he explains.

Taekwoon’s glare is enough to make him lower the bottle. The water is cool and nice though, just the way he drinks after singing for hours. He finishes the glass and his lips, chasing away the droplets there with his tongue; leveling his gaze just in time to see the fixed one Hongbin has on him. They stare at each other for awkward moments, Taekwoon noticing how Hongbin shifts under his staring, pursing his lips and making those dimples of his very clearly, almost inviting him to poke at them.

Since Hongbin seems to take all kinds of liberties with him, touching him carelessly, Taekwoon does just that; with his newly bandaged hand, he uses his index finger to poke at one of the holes on Hongbin’s face. Also, it’s satisfying to hear the squeak of surprise and feel the skin under his finger get warm as Hongbin blushes bright red, looking at him with what looks like bewilderment.

“What are you doing, hyung?” Hongbin asks.

Taekwoon blinks thrice, “Poking your dimple,” he says, obvious as it is.

“I can see that,” Hongbin says very slowly, eyes shifting from Taekwoon’s face to Taekwoon’s finger on his face. “Why are you doing it, though?”

In the few seconds that take Taekwoon to decide if he’s going to answer to the question, Hongbin’s phone chirps and the boy lowers his stare to the screen. Whatever he sees make his lips stretch into one delighted smile, and the dimple under Taekwoon’s finger deepens with it. A burbling sensation on the pit of his stomach turns his mouth sour at the obvious happiness the boy demonstrates.

Everything is a mess inside him; he his bottom lip into his mouth as he thinks about the reasons why his whole body revolts against the image of Hongbin like… this, happy in a way he never seems to be near Taekwoon, whom he is always a little tense and awkward, either trying too much or not at all. Hongbin is proving himself to be a complication Taekwoon isn’t exactly sure he wants to have in his life. Even if he has dimples and is nice in a way most aren’t around him.

Annoyed at how divided he is, Taekwoon digs his finger deeper, pleased at the high pitched squeak the other makes.

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Sanghyuk isn’t mad, his day is doing great; Sanghyuk isn’t mad, his day is doing great. Sanghy–

“–uk, yah, Han Sanghyuk!”

Sanghyuk snaps his eyes up, meeting the ridiculous figure of Lee Jaehwan, in all his mismatched, overly colorful form.

“What?” he growls under his breath, still repeating the same phrase on his mind. Sanghyuk isn’t mad, his day is doing great.

Jaehwan lifts his hand in mock surrender. “Just wanted to warn you to turn down your strength before this mug here,” he points to the mug full of black coffee – Taekwoon doesn’t have a shift today – on his hand, “bursts with the way you’re holding it.”

Sanghyuk looks down, and sees what Jaehwan’s talking about: his knuckles are white with the intensity he holds it, the mug shaking under his fingers. He quickly releases it, cursing when some of the hot coffee falls on the table and on his hand. “God-ing-dammit!”

“Woah, calm down kid,” Jaehwan says, no hint of humor on his face, for once. “You’re wound up pretty tight, huh? Something happened in the… I don’t know, fifteen minutes it took up to come here?”

The tone Jaehwan uses irritates Sanghyuk even more, and yes, he is irritated, okay? Very irritated. “Even if it had, it’s none of your business.”

“So dry,” the other grumbles, sipping his cream frappe with nonchalance. “I might not like you, but seeing your constipated face is making this honestly delicious cream frappe bitter.”

“Deal with it.”

Jaehwan stares at him for a minute or two, before setting down his cup and sighing audibly. “Look, I’m not the type to meddle in things that don’t have to do with me–”

“Continue like this,” Sanghyuk groans, already imagining what kind of bull the older is going to spew. Something about how Sanghyuk lost – yeah, right – the discussion on who’s the most idiotic, useless character in One Piece? Or how the boy is just soooo stuck up that all his tension is going to freeze his features into a permanent scowl? He doesn’t put something that ridiculous behind someone ridiculous like Jaehwan.

“Dude, you’re no fun.”

“I don’t try to be.”

“All this because of your crush on Cha Hakyeon? Isn’t he like, 1/3 of the B1 Trio, together with you and Jung Taekwoon?”

W-What?

What?!

“WHAT,” his hands hit the table with violence, raising from his seat; Jaehwan almost jumps out of his chair, and he hears a shriek from somewhere in the cake shop; looking around, he sees two occupied tables, one with two girls, the other with one girl and two boys. All five are doing their best to stare inconspicuously, but all appear terrified to be on the same space as him, the girl with the boys covering , the probable owner of the shriek.

He remembers a time where people were blatantly terrified of him, a time which he didn’t have Taekwoon and specially Hakyeon with him.

So he slowly sits back, leaning his back against his chair in what he hopes is a non-threatening – within his standards – manner and picks his mug of coffee. Suddenly deciding that the dark liquid is much more interesting than Jaehwan or anyone there, Sanghyuk glares at it while trying to decide what to do next. He supposes he just gave himself up with the explosive reaction, and now the last person – excusing maybe Taekwoon and Hakyeon himself – he wanted to know about his feelings has a confirmation.

He could have handled everything a bit better.

Jaehwan seems to think the same. “That was so edgy, I feel like I’m in a bad soap opera.”

Sanghyuk isn’t in the mood to talk; he isn’t in the mood to be there anymore. “Your point?”

“I don’t want anything,” another sip, and a roll of eyes, “Just don’t want you to kill my friend or worse, break a few of his bones.”

“… Worse?”

“Wonshik is a pain in the when he scrapes his knees; I don’t want to know what would happen if he broke a bone.”

“I won’t do anything to your friend,” not that he doesn’t want to, but… “Hakyeon can do whatever he wants.”

“Yeah, and you’re so happy about it,” sarcasm drips down the words, and Sanghyuk wonders if it’s a good idea to beat the out of Jaehwan. The older boy is clearly more attentive than his looks suggest, and who knows what else he hides behind an open face and twinkling eyes. Sanghyuk has read Harry Potter, and he’s learned to not trust people with twinkling eyes, thank you very much Dumbledore. For all he knows, Jaehwan can be some secret MMA fighter and while Sanghyuk isn’t one to run from a fight, they kind of need to work together for the next months. “Sanghyuk-ah, what I tried to say before you went completely bonkers was that… I know how you feel. I’ve felt like this before and trust me, from hyung to dongsaeng, it to keep pining. Why don’t you confess? Even if he rejects you, I can say that’s like lifting a weight from your shoulders.”

Sanghyuk closes his eyes for a moment; he won’t answer to that question.

Hakyeon is safety, is warmth and home and beauty and gentleness all into one. He’s the reason Sanghyuk is where he is today and if Sanghyuk one day detects feelings more than platonic coming his way, he won’t waste a minute in acting on them; in the meantime, with Hakyeon not considering him more than a protégé, a little brother, he will stay silent. He can’t bear thinking that one moment of lost control can cost him the single most important person to him. And how about Taekwoon? If things fell apart, who would he chose; his lifelong friend or the kid  that was almost imposed on him?

He can’t be alone, not again.

“My shoulders can handle the weight,” he simply says, drinking all his coffee in large gulps. It’s hot and bitter.

Jaehwan stares at him with something akin to pity reflecting in his eyes, and Sanghyuk hates him for making him admit so much.

Hates himself for feeling so much.

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Double update day!

This is me trying to compensate everyone for taking do long in updating; all I can say is that I strayed. I became immersed in other fandom and lost the motivation to write about something different. Then, by the time I had some ideas, I had too much assignments from college and tests and everything. I'm sorry for that, but I'm back.

In three weeks I'll be on vacation, then I can focus on writing more. I thank everyone who left reviews and subscribed and voted and those who silently appreciate. I hope you all will still follow me on this journey~

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