“This is all your fault,” grumbled Jackson as he tried once again to find some sort of leverage to pry the heavily rusted metal door open. With a huff, he blew his long fringe out of the way so that he could peer more closely at the ridges of the said door as his fingers scraped around for something, anything that was even close to a chance of heaving it open.

“It is not,” retorted Jinyoung though a little less sure of himself that he usually was. He had his arms cross tightly against his chest, his stance physically denying that any of this was his fault. He watched as Jackson shuffled around near the door with growing impatience until he couldn’t take it anymore. He marched over, clucked his tongue and shoved Jackson out of the way before he too began to scrutinize the door. Okay, it was more a sheer block of metal that a door. There was no latch in sight.

“We’ve got to talk, you said. We have to solve this, you said. We’ve got to talk somewhere private, you said. They won’t hear us in here, you said,” growled Jackson as he rambled on and on in an accusatory tone. “You’re damn right they won’t hear us, not even if we screamed bloody murder!”

“How was I to know that this stupid thing won’t open from the inside?!” replied Jinyoung, his voice no less irritated than Jackson’s.

“Oh~ finally something that Mr.Smart-too-intellectual-to-speak-to-mere-mortals doesn’t know,” scoffed Jackson, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration.

Jinyoung squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, willing himself to take deep breaths to calm himself even as Jackson’s disgruntled mutterings continued to assault his ears.

“Will – you – just – shut – up?!” yelled Jinyoung as he whirled around to face Jackson. “I did not want this either! Contrary to your inflated ego, the last thing I want is to get stuck with you!”

“As if I wanted this?!” shouted Jackson in return, marching right up to Jinyoung until their faces were just inches apart, both jaws clenched and fists balled tight at their sides. “You want me to shut up?” growled Jackson, his voice raspy as he spat out the words through clenched teeth, “make me.”

“You-” hissed Jinyoung, so very nearly giving in to his impulse to punch Jackson in the face right then and there. To hell with the three years they had spent as trainees in the same company! So what if they were in the same idol group and had been for the last two years?! He was done pandering to Jackson’s sudden mood swings, cutting words, downright self-absorbed ways – the jerk!

Jinyoung swung his right arm back, ready to land the punch, his upper lip curled back in a snarl but he noticed a sudden shadow in Jackson’s eyes. It disappeared quickly but it was enough to still Jinyoung’s fist in mid-air. Was that… insecurity? Fear? By the time Jinyoung blinked, that look was gone and in place of it was the defiant look on Jackson’s face as if daring Jinyoung to do his worst. A tense second lingered.

“You…,” Jinyoung began to say as Jackson stuck out his jaw in defiance, thinking that Jinyoung was going to go off on another nonsensical rant. Jinyoung let out a frustrated sigh as he turned away from the stupid confrontation.

“Not worth it. So not worth it,” he said, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

*              *                *

1 hour before

“CUT!” called the director, a note of frustration clear in his voice. He tossed the megaphone aside and groaned, fingers pressed against his temples. These boys were supposed to be easy to work with. They were professional and had great energy – at least so he was told. ‘Looks like you can’t really believe everything you hear, even from close friends,’ thought the director to himself as he watched the boy’s leader and their manager approach him with apologetic looks.

“I’m so sorry, Director. I’m truly sorry,” said the band’s leader who went by the stage name JB. He was bowing hastily as well. The boys had manners, which meant that the director did not feel like he could scold them as much as he wanted to.

All the director could do was give a deep sigh. “Take a break,” he told JB and the crew around them, the assistant director immediately relaying the news to the staff. He glanced at JB as he stood up to walk away. “I hope to see improvement,” the director declared, his tone not masking the irritation he felt.

“Yes, Director. We will, Director,” JB replied, bowing deeply once more before he stood up to watch the director walk back to his trailer. The guilt in JB’s gut that resulted from his responsibility as a leader made him feel wretched. JB turned quickly on his heels and marched back to the six guys who were gathered loosely in a corner of the music video filming set.

“Trailer. Now,” JB murmured in a gruff voice which the guys all knew meant that JB was trying his best to not lose his temper.

Glancing at each other, they piled into the trailer and Youngjae, the last to come in, closed the door behind him so that there was no one else in the trailer but them seven, deliberately leaving out the crew that was supposed to film behind-the-scenes footage for release later.

The general atmosphere was tense and quiet aside from some shuffling as the guys shifted uneasily while waiting for JB to speak. Jinyoung stood in a corner of the trailer, Yugyeom, Bambam and Youngjae sat around on chairs in front of their make-up mirrors while Jackson leaned against the cold metal wall, half-hidden by the large rack of clothes that held their stage costumes. Mark, on the other hand, was perched on a table nearest to JB. He seemed to sense that JB might need someone with a more steady temperament-wise to keep him in check. Usually it was Jinyoung who carried out this duty. It’s just that this time…

JB took a deep breath, held it, counted to ten and then slowly exhaled, willing himself to stay calm.

“What… was… that?” JB asked, directing the open question to the six guys in front of him. He was answered with drawn out silence as most of them avoided his glare. He took another breath. He had to keep it together.

“That was downright , that’s what,” said JB, his glare oddly intensifying even as his eyes narrowed. “All of you! Out of sync, forgetting moves, wrong position-”

“Hey!” Yugyeom interjected because he wasn’t in a good mood either due to the countless number of takes they had to do which they still hadn’t gotten right. “Not all of us. I didn’t make mistakes-”

“Yeah, you just kept shoving people,” sneered Jackson.

“I was shoving you to keep you in place!”

“Well, I know perfectly well where my place is, you overgrown-”

“But you were out of your spot, hyung,” Bambam interjected in Yugyeom’s defence.

“Yeah, and you know why Jackson was out of his spot? Too preoccupied with trying to get me to faceplant on the floor, that’s what,” Jinyoung said, speaking up from his corner of the trailer.

“Says you,” Jackson shot back, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on. “So I accidentally stepped on your shoes a couple of times-”

“Five, you buffoon. Five. Freaking. Times.”

“Yea yea,” replied Jackson with a dismissive wave of his hand, “who’s counting?”

“I am,” said Jinyoung, his voice biting as the annoyance forced its way to the surface. “Or maybe you never learned how to count.”

“Why you-” snarled Jackson.

“WILL YOU LISTEN TO YOURSELVES?!” yelled Mark above the petty skirmish. Mark’s outburst startled them all, even JB who now looked at Mark, eyes wide at the usually calm oldest hyung of the group practically losing it.

Mark glared at Jackson until the younger guy looked away because Mark’s evident disapproval made his heart falter. Mark’s eyes then flicked to Jinyoung who also, after attempting to hold Mark’s gaze for a bit, dropped his eyes to the group’s maknae sitting in front of him.

Breathing hard, Mark closed his eyes and bit his lip. Sudden outbursts always made him feel awkward about it afterwards. “This shouldn’t be happening,” Mark explained, looking up again at s whom he had trained, debuted and worked together with to achieve their dreams. “Got7 jjai? Where is it? I don’t feel it.” It was a simple statement but it weighed on all their shoulders. The harmonious bond that had held them together even when they argued before was nowhere to be found. Instead, there were short tempers, sullen demeanours and over-sensitive feelings. Mark had sensed all the changes for he watched s carefully but he thought it was just a phase. At least, he had hoped it was. But things just got worse, especially between two particular individuals.

“Jackson,” Mark said, which made the younger flick his reluctant eyes towards him but only briefly.

“Jinyoung,” Mark continued, looking over to Jinyoung who still stood in a corner. Jinyoung had a look of resignation on his face, as if he knew this was coming, that he’d have to face the music, so to speak. And that time was now.

“Both of you need to talk,” stated Mark, trying to sound reasonable but it was difficult when the two ‘friends’ refused to even look at each other.

“Mark is right,” JB added, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder to signal that he’d take over for now because he knew Mark didn’t like to deal with confrontations like this. It was also to show his gratitude that Mark had gotten straight to the root of the problem. “You have to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” muttered Jackson as he scuffed the toe of his shoe on the vinyl that covered the floor of the trailer.

“Oh yes there is and you know it,” said JB, looking hard at Jackson, watching as the younger fidgeted and chewed on his lower lip. JB sighed. He knew Jackson had a stubborn streak and the thing was, so did Jinyoung.

“Jinyoung,” JB asked, “will you talk to Jackson?”

Jinyoung looked JB in the eye and gave a small nod. JB nodded in return.

“Jackson, look at me,” JB ordered in the tone of voice that he used really only when it was absolutely necessary to assert his role as their leader. Jackson very begrudgingly stood up straighter and met JB’s eyes, standing almost at attention. JB continued, “You and Jinyoung have issues to-”

“But we don’t have issu-”

“Oh yes, you do. Both of you. How long do you think you’d be able to act like this? Always at each other’s throats at the slightest reason, refusing to even be in the same room unless you have to. It’s not healthy.”

Jinyoung finally walked towards the group with a sigh. “Come on, Jackson, admit it. You have a problem with me.”

“No I don’t,” Jackson fired back, cocking his head towards Jinyoung as his irritated demeanour returned though his countenance had softened as JB was speaking. “You’re the one who has a problem with me.”

“Wha-? Excuse me,” replied Jinyoung, his voice rising as his eyes started to glint in anger. “I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Says who?! You obviously have a beef with me. Speaking of beef, how many times must you use the ‘you didn’t take me to eat meat’ ploy? Is that the only thing worthy of conversation you can come up with?” scoffed Jackson. “With all the boring stuff you read, it’s ‘you didn’t take me to eat meat~” continued Jackson along with a heartless exaggerated imitation of Jinyoung’s aegyo.

“That’s enough! You’ve had it in for me for the longest time! I’ve had it with your veiled insults and childish immature jibes at me. You-”

But Jinyoung’s rant, which sounded as if it had been building up for a while, was cut off by JB who clapped his hands but once yet it was as loud and as effective as if he had cracked a whip. JB gave the term ‘thunderclap’ a whole new meaning, thought Youngjae to himself. Truthfully, JB would have much preferred to punch a wall or slam his fist on a table, to physically hurt someone or something but that would have been giving in too much to his impulses. Right then though, he seriously wanted to strangle the two 94-liners.

“You two really have problems,” said JB who was trying to keep his voice from shaking in anger. “I don’t know when, don’t know how, but your ‘bickering’ crossed the line and it’s hurting the team. It’s hurting us.” He looked from Jackson to Jinyoung and back again. “This is bigger than you two and I’m disappointed you let it get this bad, that you forgot that what happens between you affects us too. Unless,” JB paused, gaging whether or not what he had on the tip of his tongue was too dangerous to mention but at the sullen and yes, guilty looks both members had, JB thought it was safe enough.

“Unless, you no longer care for us,” hedged JB, careful to lace his voice with hurt and a sense of loss – not that he wasn’t feeling those things but he knew enough of the two boy’s personalities that they’d take the bait.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung murmured, rushing to JB’s side because what his leader had said had cut him to the quick. “That’s utter nonsense. I love you guys, you know that,” continued Jinyoung, voice tender because he did care about them more than ever before.

“I- I never said I don’t care,” Jackson said hesitantly. His own innate sense of responsibility reeling at JB’s words. It was a perspective that hadn’t occurred to him, not in his state of mind that had been overtaken with his troubled relationship with Jinyoung.

“So you’ll talk it out?” asked JB, not bothering to hide the note of relief in his voice. Jinyoung nodded a few times in reply, his eyes didn’t leave JB’s, trying to show his leader that he was serious in this, that he meant to work things out with Jackson. Jackson, on the other hand, just didn’t protest and by not saying anything, JB knew it was to be taken as a sign of agreement.

“Go somewhere, make sure you’re not followed, cannot be heard,” JB advised, instinct telling him that the crew documenting their MV would be willing to jump off the Han bridge just to get some footage of Jackson and Jinyoung arguing. JB was no idealistic fool. He knew their ‘talk’ was going to be punctuated with several rounds of shouting. “And don’t come back until you do,” added JB, “We have a four hour break before you two are needed here. Come back only when you’ve resolved things.”

“Yes, hyung,” Jinyoung said, giving JB a small smile and made for the trailer door. He rested his hand on the door handle, waiting for a sign that Jackson would follow after. Jackson gave a deep sigh, glanced at JB as he walked past the leader, giving him a small pout to show that he was still reluctant to do this but was pushing his selfishness aside to work things out – to put the team first which until of late had been his mantra. As Jackson stepped out of the trailer to follow Jinyoung, he felt a pat on his back. He turned to see Mark giving him a proud, approving smile and that look was enough to change Jackson’s pout into a grim, determined tight-lipped nod.

‘I can do this,’ thought Jackson to himself as he half jogged to catch up with Jinyoung.

*                 *                 *

So that’s why the two boys were to be found in what could only be described as a cell, light coming into the chamber only through a sky light that hadn’t been cleaned in ages. The windows were boarded up tight but there was decent amount of air circulation – which, in light of the winter cold that their mv filming was taking place in, might not have been a good thing. Jinyoung and Jackson had wandered quite far from the main warehouse where the filming was located and this particular cell was in one of the furthest abandoned buildings and because it was a chamber within a building, Jinyoung had thought it perfect. Little did he know that they’d be essentially trapped.

Shaking his head at the ridiculous situation they were in, Jinyoung took comfort in knowing that people would come looking for them soon enough. So he decided to do what he and Jackson were there to do – talk. He turned back to face Jackson after their stand-off but he wasn’t there. Instead, Jinyoung’s found Jackson sitting on the floor, slumped against an empty crate with a vacant look on his face. The change in Jackson’s demeanour from shouting right in his face to this quiet unfeeling stare was unsettling and not for the first time, Jinyoung didn’t know how to react because he had no idea what brought about the sudden switch in behaviour.

The thing was Jinyoung thought he had kinda known Jackson, albeit not as well as Mark knew Jackson for example, but Jinyoung knew parts of Jackson’s character and before this problem started, he had actually been able to read Jackson quite well. The bickering was really how they had gotten close but somewhere along the line, like JB pointed out, things had changed. It was no longer playful. It had started to hurt and stupidly, they had ignored it, brushing it away as over-sensitivity and subsequently had allowed it to fester.

Jinyoung sighed and sat on the floor a few feet away from Jackson, making sure to sit squarely in front of him.

“Jackson,” Jinyoung asked tentatively, “can we talk?”

Jackson didn’t answer. His eyes were unfocused and fixed on a spot somewhere on the floor between them. The uncomfortable silence dragged on but Jinyoung still kept his eyes on Jackson, willing him to look up, to respond. Just as Jinyoung was going to give up hope, he heard or rather watched Jackson’s lips murmur “Worthless eh?”

“What?” asked Jinyoung.

“So I’m not worth it, am I?”

It took a second for Jinyoung to realise what Jackson was talking about then he remembered his muttered words earlier. His eyes widened in realisation about how Jackson had completely misunderstood him. “No, no. I wasn’t referring to you at all. I-”

“Save it,” Jackson cut in, his shoulders drooping as hurt began to show more clearly in his eyes though he was trying his hardest to keep it at bay. Jackson said bitterly, “No one here to impress. No one here to convince. There’s no role for you to play.” When he had followed Jinyoung into the warehouse, he had fully intended to work things out but that one statement about him not being worth it broke any resolve he had mustered on the way here.

Jinyoung was right. He wasn’t worth it.

He wasn’t worth training cause no matter how hard he tried in singing and rapping, it was never good enough. Training Jackson to dance was also not worth it because no matter how many dance practices they had, he still danced ahead of the beat. He had lost count of the number of times he had watched videos of their performances and grimaced because he turned a fraction too early which broke their synchronization. All the energy poured into his activities also seemed worthless because it did not visibly improve anything for the group. What had increased instead were the number of hateful comments directed at him to a point that Jackson felt that everything he did was a mistake. Worst and most painful of all, Jackson wasn’t worth it because he was bringing sadness to his friends and parents.

Jinyoung was right, Jackson wasn’t worth it at all. Too wrapped up in his thoughts, he realised after some delay that Jinyoung was speaking to him again.

“I am not playing, Jackson. I do not think you’re worthless at all. To me, you’re-”

But Jackson interrupted him. Jinyoung was obviously trying to offer words of comfort which to Jackson seemed to come more from obligation and the need to say the right thing than anything else. “I don’t need your pity, Park Jinyoung,” Jackson said harshly before accompanying his words with a mirthless, empty laugh. “You don’t have to pretend, you don’t even have to try, alright? I’m egoistic, selfish, stupid, thoughtless – all of that you’ve made perfectly clear.”

Jinyoung grit his teeth. “Will you actually let me finish my sentences? For Christ’s sake, Jackson, other people have things to say too.”

“Maybe cause I don’t want to hear it. Has that ever occurred to you, huh?”

“But you don’t even-”

“Cause I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it!” snapped Jackson, pushing himself to his feet in agitation.

“Tell me then,” challenged Jinyoung, “tell me what was I going to say?”

“That I’m acting like a five-year-old spoiled brat! That I’m being oversensitive! That I’m too self-absorbed! You’ve said it so many times I hear it in my nightmares!” Jackson panted as he tried to draw breath in between his shouts.

Out of the blue, for no rhyme or reason, Jackson experienced a sudden epiphany, the kind that knocks the wind out of one’s lungs, the kind that deadens all thoughts save that one realisation. It was his insecurities that had caused him to snap at his team members, to withdraw from any form of interaction that risked revealing his battered emotional state, to avoid anything that meant he could no longer hide. It was his insecurities that were the reasons why he had treated s so unfairly. It was his insecurities that had caused him to hide behind stark hurtful sarcasm which he directed at the individuals who tried to reach him– individuals like Jinyoung. He had blamed them for prodding him when he was the one who had been blind to what was really wrong. God, he really was a selfish bastard!

Jinyoung watched apprehensively as a crazed look of manic disbelief spread on Jackson’s abnormally pale face. In all the years he’s known Jackson, he had never seen him like this. It was the look of a tortured soul that was finally pushed to breaking point and it terrified him to see Jackson fall apart in front of his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” blurted Jackson. He couldn’t even look at Jinyoung. He just couldn’t. Jackson made for the door, pounding on it with his bare fists. “Let me out! Someone! Anyone! Please!!!” Jackson’s cries were desperate as his hammering echoed in the empty warehouse. Surely someone would hear him? Surely someone would come? He just had to escape, he needed time to deal with this horrid realisation, time he shouldn’t have to spend in full view of Jinyoung’s penetrating and observant eyes.

“Jackson,” cried Jinyoung as he leapt forward to grab a hold of Jackson’s wrists, “you’ll hurt yourself!” Jackson hadn’t even heard Jinyoung get close and was so startled that he reacted out of instinct, wrenching his wrists out of Jinyoung’s grasp with such force that Jinyoung was thrown to the ground, clouds of dust whirling up where he fell with a painful thud.

“Jinyoung,” gasped Jackson, extending his hands in concern. He wanted to help Jinyoung stand, wait no, he wanted to check if Jinyoung was hurt. No, maybe he just wanted to hold Jinyoung’s hands and say he was sorry over and over again. The result of all these thoughts racing through Jackson’s mind?

He stood still.

He stood still as he watched Jinyoung groan, clutching his right arm as he tried to push himself off the ground when he gave a sudden hiss that seemed to have to do with his right ankle. Jackson couldn’t see Jinyoung’s expression but he knew it would show Jinyoung grimacing and to think he had caused this – all of this.

Jackson’s knees buckled as he sank into a crouch by the door. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” repeated Jinyoung in disbelief. “Sorry? You?” after which he laughed bitterly as he used his arms to push himself into a sitting position to better inspect his ankle. “The great Jackson Wang apologizing. Someone call the press!”

Jackson kept mum, not biting back with sarcasm as he normally would have done. He just watched with downcast eyes as Jinyoung struggled to stand on his one good leg.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I bother,” grumbled Jinyoung. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, huh? A simple question like how was your day results in you biting my head off. When I notice you feeling down, I make it a point to talk to you but no, you just push me away as if I were nobody to you.” Jinyoung began shuffling towards the closest crate he could lean against, limping as he went. “Do you have any idea that it hurts?” he asked, voice harsh, not bothering to turn around to look at Jackson who seemed frozen by the door. “Do you know I feel like when you treat me like that? I’m tired of always being the one to approach you.” Upon reaching a crate, he held himself steady as he sank back down on the floor with a hiss. His ankle was starting to throb and he didn’t want to put more pressure on it than was necessary. After a few moments of awkward heavy silence, Jinyoung added in a small murmur, “You’re not the only one with feelings you know.”

Jackson’s eyes that had been watching Jinyong’s painful progress to where he now rested finally fell away. He was worthless, wasn’t he? That he had been so wrapped up in his own feelings and confused thoughts that he forgot to consider that the other was getting hurt as well. His lips parted again to say that he was sorry, that he really meant it but the words wouldn’t come. It’s just… he’d made such a mess of things that there seemed to be no way to mend it at all. So he kept silent.

For quite a while, the only sounds in the empty chamber were his breathing and Jinyoung’s. Concentrating on the inhale and exhale of breaths punctuated with an occasional rustle of fabric or movement of shoes in grit lulled Jackson into an unthinking blank state and Jackson found it much easier to concentrate on sound than to allow the cacophony of thoughts to blind him again.

Then, Jackson’s ears picked up something else. It was a faint irregular rhythmic click that came in small bursts. Looking around him, he wondered if it was made by the gusts of air that somehow found its way into the warehouse or… It was then that he noticed Jinyoung had his arms folded tight around his torso, hugging himself as if he could stop his body from shivering. An instant later, Jackson realised he was cold himself and that they were basically freezing. Their leather jackets and undershirts meant to film for their music video were no protection against the winter cold and yet there they were, in an abandoned chamber with no heating and on the verge of getting hypothermia.

Hesitating only for a moment in indecision because his first instinct was that he would be rejected again, Jackson threw caution and pride to the wind and hastened over to Jinyoung who was practically doubled over in an effort to cling on to any remnant of warmth. Jackson could only think of one way to help and damn it if it was awkward but he had no choice. Without a word and since Jinyoung didn’t even look at Jackson as he approached, Jackson nudged the crate Jinyoung was sitting against back to make enough space for him to squeeze in behind the younger.

It was only when Jinyoung felt Jackson’s arms wind round his body than he realised Jackson had moved behind him and was physically gathering Jinyoung against his chest while Jackson’s legs shifted to frame his own.

“W-what,” came Jinyoung’s voice that would have been outraged if not weakened by the cold and shivers, “w-hat do you think you’re d-doing?” He tried to move his arms, to break Jackson’s hold but Jackson, sensing the resistance, responded by injecting more strength into the embrace.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” asked Jackson with a huff, thinking that the question really wasn’t necessary, especially when he had felt how cold Jinyoung was when skin happened to graze skin.

“Let me go,” demanded Jinyoung petulantly.

“No.”

“Let. Go.”

“No.”

“You’re taking advantage of me.”

“If that’s how you want to see it.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” hissed Jinyoung but even as he demanded that Jackson release him, he could feel the increased heat between them and he certainly was already warmer than he had been a minute ago.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Jackson sighed, not realising his breath was directed at Jinyoung’s neck which caused the younger one to shiver as it was ticklish, but warm at the same time.

“You’re only doing this to make yourself feel better,” accused Jinyoung in a sullen voice, giving up his struggle before actually snuggling back against Jackson. It’s just to stay alive, Jinyoung told himself. Just that. Survival. Yea, that’s it.

“Yea yea. I’m hugging you because I’m selfish and I need your body heat to save my own life. Happy?” Jackson quipped.

Jinyoung gave a noncommittal grunt. “That’s a tad too dramatic, don’t you think?”

“You know what’s dramatic? JB skinning me alive if anything happened to you. Now that’s dramatic, traumatic actually.”

Jinyoung actually huffed a little in laughter. Jackson sounded so much more like himself, like the Jackson he remembered as a trainee, the Jackson who was easy-going and loved making people laugh, the Jackson who trusted that others were there to support and care for him. It was a Jackson that had disappeared for a while – for too long. He had missed this Jackson and it wasn’t until recently or even there and then in the abandoned warehouse that he realised how much.

“As if,” teased Jinyoung who, with no little degree of surprise, found it so natural to slip back into the friendly banter he had always enjoyed with Jackson despite the shouting match and strained relationship of late. It was as if this was how things were meant to be, this was how Jinyoung and Jackson were meant to be Jinyoung and Jackson.

Jackson hummed in contemplation before nodding solemnly, a nod that Jinyoung caught in his peripheral vision. “You’re right. JB would probably want to fry me in oil before skinning me alive. Then he’d have my head and mount it on a wall as a warning against anyone who dares to mess with you.” Jackson concluded, “He’s a sadist.”

“Only to certain people,” Jinyoung replied with a mischievous wiggle of his eyebrows as he cocked his head to his left in order to be able to make eye contact with Jackson. That comment had them both laughing for a bit before they both sighed, wondering how to proceed. They had been ready to tear each other’s throats out but yet, there they were, laughing. But neither could pretend that everything was alright.  

“Okay,” Jinyoung said, drawing a deep breath as he thought carefully about how to proceed. “We… have problems, don’t we?”

Jackson gave a wry smirk in response to the simple statement but he waited for Jinyoung to continue because he certainly wasn’t at a point where he thought he could express what he was dealing with. Jackson was usually… well, he did like to talk. Ask anyone and they’d tell you that Jackson could talk about random stuff until the cows came home, until the fat lady sings and all that jazz. It’s just that when it came to matters of the heart to do with complex emotions and multi-faceted twists and turns of the human psyche that Jackson was at a loss for words. Even if Jackson attempted to sort through such feelings, he’d always get stuck. It was like getting lost in a maze of connected thoughts which at the same time, led nowhere. It was all a mess and as things got more and more complicated since their debut, Jackson felt an increasing sense of helplessness and the frustration of it all was sometimes channelled into unhealthy outlets – like his relationship with Jinyoung.

Understanding that Jackson wanted him to take the lead, Jinyoung continued. “Let’s – maybe… darn it,” huffed Jinyoung who raised a hand to rub his face because it was so complicated. In spite of his usual eloquence, he found it hard to phrase anything at this point. “Maybe we could be honest with each other? Like, let’s each take turns raising one issue, one issue,” Jinyoung repeated for good measure, “and we’d say honestly what we feel and think about it. Deal?”

Jackson considered it for a moment. Maybe dealing with things one at a time would make more sense rather than try to summarise stuff because that was something he could not do for the life of him. “Deal,” agreed Jackson, shifting his body and Jinyoung’s a little to get more comfortable – well, as comfortable as sitting on a dusty concrete floor could get. He watched Jinyoung, waiting for him to start. He was handing over the lead of the conversation to the other for various reasons among which was that Jackson didn’t trust himself to start things off correctly and second, it was also done out of a slight sense of guilt because Jackson realised he often just bulldozed his way through stuff in a hurry to get things done.

Jinyoung nodded and despite having initiated the agenda, he could not rank the issues according to importance on the spur of the moment so he started with what was most recent.

“About the meat thing,” said Jinyoung before trailing off for a bit when he felt Jackson grimace. After a pause, Jinyoung continued, “Does me mentioning it upset you?”

Jackson chewed on his lower lip for a second before replying frankly, “Initially it didn’t. It was funny at first. But you always repeated it so many times even though I already explained on camera and off why you weren’t there and all. It was,” gulped Jackson, “I guess what I’m saying is I felt that… like you didn’t accept my explanations? Like in spite of there being legit reasons why you weren’t there for that dinner you chose to continue harping on it to everyone? Even to the fans?”

“Oh,” replied Jinyoung after listening attentively and analysing what Jackson was saying. “I didn’t know you felt bad about it. I honestly thought of it as a running joke, you know, for entertainment reasons? I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, it’s just that I thought it was like the chicken wing thing between you and Jaebum hyung. You brought it up a few times on shows and stuff.”

“Yeah,” said Jackson, “but when Jaebum hyung told me to stop it, I did. I’ve never talked about it since, I think, since last year.”

“Right. So, me talking about wanting to eat meat with you is a no go from now?”

Jackson nodded. “If you don’t mind really. I’d really treat you soon, it’s just… I guess the constant reminder makes me feel I’ve been a bad person to you.”

“Wow,” Jinyoung whistled, rubbing the back of his neck “I had no idea you felt like that. Okay. No more mentioning it. Promise.”

The sincerity in Jinyoung’s voice elicited a smile from Jackson who had been sceptical that talking would help but now felt that this conversation was really going to be able to resolve things. Jinyoung could not help but smile in return. “Your turn,” Jinyoung quipped, his tone easily the lightest since they had left the trailer.

“Hmm,” contemplated Jackson, his hands busy massaging Jinyoung’s arms to get his blood circulation up now that he was certain Jinyoung wasn’t going to push him away. “Maybe… try not to nag me so much?”

“Nag?”

“Yeah, like telling me what’s good for the team, what I should or shouldn’t do, how it’s useless to get upset over negative comments, stuff like that.”

“Em, can I ask why?” Jinyoung spoke up, cocking his head back again so that he could study Jackson’s expression, “I say those things cause I’m concerned really.”

Jackson nodded again. “I know that. I know you care and that it’s your way of showing that but sometimes, it can get too much. I know I’m stubborn and can be stuck on negative stuff, get too affected and all but hearing about what I should be doing isn’t always helpful when I’m feeling down? What I’m trying to say is that just listening and cuddling would be more effective than telling me what to do…”

It was Jinyoung’s turn to nod but he too needed to explain. “I get it. I guess I jump straight in to nag cause you’re often not around enough to do it slowly? We could go for days not seeing each other cause of your schedules so when you’re there, I take the chance to tell you things.”

“I know that, that’s why I tried to take it positively. But after a while, it just seemed like you… like you stopped trying to understand and were more focused on teaching me than being a friend…”

“,” cursed Jinyoung. Hearing about it from Jackson’s perspective, he only just realised how it might seem to Jackson, how those words of advice could be interpreted as words of admonishment rather than concern. It was the sort of advice that probably came at Jackson from various people already and what Jackson had actually needed was for someone to squeeze his shoulder and allow him to just feel. “I’m sorry, Jackson. Really.”

“Yea, I know,” replied Jackson, his expression gentle. “Like I said, I know you mean well but maybe… I need a friend more than I need a mentor.” The smile on Jackson’s lips trembled a little because he was beginning to bare his soul and he wasn’t used to doing that. He was literally an emotional mess at that point.

“I’ll try,” said Jinyoung earnestly, using his own hands to hold Jackson’s and realising that Jackson was cold too. Jinyoung cupped both of Jackson’s hands in his and brought their joined hands to his lips in order to breathe on them. “I won’t be able to change immediately though,” Jinyoung continued after which he rubbed Jackson’s rough hands in between his so that the friction might generate more heat. “It’s my nature to want to nag, as you put it, but when it happens, please promise to tell me rather than keep quiet about it, alright?”

Jackson grinned, leaned forwards a little so that he could press his left temple against Jinyoung’s. “Promise.” Still unsure if Jinyoung would allow it, he nudged his temple against Jinyoung lightly and when no remonstration came, Jackson gladly nuzzled against the younger in relief. “Now it’s your turn.” And so it went on with issues like skinship, sulking, weird quirks, being possessive, criticisms about each other’s fashion sense and careless remarks that had burned though brushed off. It was safe to say that by the time neither had anything else to bring up, the two friends had reached an understanding that could only be described as deeper than ever before.

Reflecting for a moment on all of the unnecessary misinterpretations that had marred their friendship, Jackson could not help but throw his head back in a light-hearted laugh because it had been so much drama over nothing substantial. His laugh, however, was cut short when the back of his head hit the crate. As if on cue, Jinyoung’s deeper laugh filled in the silence after Jackson’s cursing hisses escaped his lips.

“All those months, it’s crazy really,” Jinyoung commented.

“Yeah, what were we thinking?”

“I guess we weren’t thinking or probably over-thinking everything.”

“So we’re okay? Friends?” asked Jackson, extending his hand with a wide grin.

“Friends” echoed Jinyoung as he grasped Jackson’s rough hand in his, the appearance of sweet crinkles that were part of the charm of his trademark smile showing Jackson how relieved and happy he was that they had gotten to this point.

“And Jinyoung,” added Jackson tentatively after a pause during which he was subconsciously rubbing the back of Jinyoung’s hand with his thumb.

“Hmm?”

“I’m really sorry,” said Jackson in a hushed voice that he could barely keep steady before burying his face in Jinyoung’s shoulder. “I really am.”

Though Jinyoung had wished a thousand times during the past few months that Jackson own up to the stuff he had said and done, Jinyoung realised that he didn’t need to hear those words because it wasn’t an apology he wanted. What he had longed for was the restoration of their relationship which they had now amazingly achieved. Smiling softly, Jinyoung gently dislodged his right hand from Jackson’s grasp to reach behind him in order to rest it on Jackson’s cheek. “Hey, I’m sorry too.”

“But you don’t have anything to say sorry for,” Jackson replied with a little surprise, picking up his head to rest his chin on Jinyoung’s shoulder blade and leaning his cheek against Jinyoung’s palm. Jinyoung responded by gently caressing Jackson’s cheek.

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry that I wasn’t a friend when you needed one. Forgive me?”

“Only if you forgive me.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

So, in companionable silence, Jackson and Jinyoung took a moment to let the realisation sink in and enjoy the knowledge that they were on the same page again. Each made a mental note to never lose this friendship, or by impulsive self-centered desires, to wreck what they had almost lost.

In the midst of their reverie, however, Jackson felt Jinyoung’s body tremble again. Jackson hastily began rubbing Jinyoung’s arms once more, even reaching down for Jinyoung’s leather-clad thighs. Jackson frowned worriedly. “How long have we been here?”

“C-can’t be that long, a couple of hours maybe?” Jinyoung guessed but even he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it was getting harder every second to fend off the cold from his consciousness.

“ ,” cursed Jackson below his breath as he hunched forwards on his knees to reach further down Jinyoung’s legs.

“Ouch,” gasped Jinyoung. “My ankle,” he reminded Jackson.

“I know your ankle is hurt. That’s why I’m not making you move. Moving would be the best choice actually, keep your body temperature up. But since that’s out of the question…” If only one of them had the sense to grab a winter jacket on the way out of the filming set. If only! They had been too engrossed in the talk they were about to have that neither remembered and now, it could’ve made the difference between staying alive and freezing to death.

“Enough about me. What about you?” asked Jinyoung, taking advantage of Jackson’s shift in position to grasp Jackson’s face in order to study it though he knew that there was basically no longer any source of light. All their eyes could discern where shapes and shadows so Jinyoung brushed his thumbs over Jackson’s lips only to gasp at how frigid they were. “J-Jackson,” murmured Jinyoung, his foremost worry not leaving his lips but, by the way Jackson raised a hand to grip Jinyoung’s wrist, it was something the other grasped immediately because it was also his worry.

They might not be found in time…

*               *                *

Back in the trailer, JB had taken to pacing up and down while the youngest three were off doing some scenes. He had also taken to locking his jaw every time he took an anxious glance at the clock. The two 94-liner’s had been gone for almost three hours. Three!

Mark watched the anxiety in JB rise every minute that went by. In the first hour or two since Jinyoung and Jackson had left, the rest were not as concerned because they had dared to hope that the two would reconcile. Once the second hour mark was breached, the oldest hyungs began to feel unsettled.

Mark cleared his throat slightly to get JB’s attention. JB looked over though he didn’t stop pacing.

“Should we go look for them?” asked Mark who had already half made up his mind to do so.

JB sighed as his steps halted. “I don’t know. They could be in the midst of reaching an understanding so any interruption might be counterproductive. I did say not to come back until they settled things…” JB’s voice trailed off as he resumed his restless pacing. “But then again…”

Mark chewed lightly on his lower lip. Something in his gut just wasn’t settled. Was it instinct? Was it over-worrying? Which was it?

“How about we at least try to see them, maybe from a distance? To make sure they’re okay?” Mark suggested.

JB needed only a moment of contemplation before he agreed to Mark’s idea partly because he had actually wanted to start searching quite a while ago but had hung back, thinking he should be patient, that he should trust the two members to work things out. Still, he had wanted to, felt the need to do so. All he needed was for Mark to broach the idea and that opened a channel for him to act.

“Let’s go,” said JB to Mark, both of them grabbing their winter coats and setting off after hurried excuses to the staff. They didn’t get very far before they had to turn back to grab torchlights. They hadn’t realised how dark it was outside as they had been in their lit trailer the whole time. When Mark took hold of a heavy duty torch after rummaging for a bit in one of the many storage boxes, he spotted Jackson’s fur lined hooded winter jacket lying innocently next to Jinyoung’s fern green one. The sight of the two coats without their owners set off warning bells in his head. Heart pounding, Mark no longer needed his gut to tell him that something was wrong – he felt it in every bone of his body. Without a word, he grabbed the two heavy coats with him and when he shoved Jinyoung’s coat into JB’s arms, their eyes made contact for an instant – an instant that was enough to cause their hearts to plunge. Neither JB nor Mark said anything to each other but there was an added urgency in their pace. It was dark and dreadfully cold. All they could do was pray that the ominous gloom that was encroaching on their souls was misguided.

After rushing through a couple of the nearest warehouses and realising how huge the abandoned lot actually was, it dawned on JB and Mark that this task was beyond them. Even though involving everyone in the search would probably mean the media finding out and news spreading like wildfire, there was no other alternative. If it meant finding Jackson and Jinyoung faster, it was worth risking everything. After rushing back to the main base in haste, search parties were organised and ambulances summoned. They were all preparing for the worst but hoped against hope that the worst would not become reality.

The boys themselves were part of the various groups combing through the various warehouses as quickly as they could. None of them could bear staying behind and not doing everything physically possible to find their missing members. None of them said it, not aloud, but each felt a tightening knot of fear in their throats as every minute passed without news.

JB and Mark were part of the same group, a group that was heading towards the northwest corner of the vicinity.

“Jackson!” called Mark, cupping one hand to his mouth as he yelled at the top of his lungs, not caring that the cold was making his lips crack and bleed as he took every effort to make his voice heard.

“Jinyoung!” JB yelled, his loud voice amplified by fear in the darkness.

The two oldest members scrambled over the grounds with at least three other people. While their targets were the scattered buildings, sheds, storage units scattered on the lot, they could not risk overlooking the paths that wandered off in between, probably leading to even more places to search. Each path or gap they shot past tugged at JB’s chaotic mind. The fear of leaving just one path unsearched, one stone unturned, the fear of running not finding Jackson and Jinyoung because they took the wrong turn, headed in the wrong direction or worse, ran right by them without noticing made JB blanche. But no, there was a plan. The plan was for each team to head in one direction and then fan out, to cover the corners first and work inwards. Stick to the plan, JB’s logical-self said, stick to the plan. Gritting his teeth, he bounded ahead of the group, not caring whether his feet ran on snow, ice or gravel, he just needed to keep moving – and Mark, propelled by fear, was right behind their leader.

They reached three warehouses, all in a row, and the group dashed into the first. They checked the vast space, behind walls, under staircases, the banisters, everything. Once in a while, something would gleam back at them or they saw shapes at the edges of their torchlights. But always, always, it was a broken piece of glass or an empty sack.

Nothing in the first.

The group did the same with the second one. The same procedure. Two would bound up the stairs while three search the ground floor. And the same false alarms.

Nothing in the second.

It was the third one next and because JB and Mark happened to be the first ones to rush through the gaping entrance, they took the ground floor, torches shining into the corners. Nothing there. Nothing. Instinct told JB that the two would have wanted to get as far from the base as possible. And by far, that would mean the further most buildings on the lot, most probably the ones right in the corners. The problem was – which corner? JB let out a howl of frustration, and was about to turn on his heels to run out of the building in order to get to the next target when he felt a restraining grip on his arm.

“Wha-” but then JB saw what Mark was pointing at with his torch. It was a heavy metal door. They had almost missed it because it barely stood out from the grimy walls darkened with years of filth and dust.

“Maybe-” Mark gasped, breathing hard, but he didn’t bother finishing his sentence because JB caught on. They had to check.

Running to it, JB gripped the latch and yanked. When it didn’t give way, he slammed his shoulder into it to push. His face scrunched up in the force he exerted, his feet scuffling for purchase on the dusty cement floor. Mark also threw his weight at the door, clenching his teeth. There was no rhyme or reason why they were trying so hard but instinct gnawed at them. Instinct said not to ignore this door. With a loud metallic creak, the door finally inched open.

“Jackson! Jinyoung!” cried Mark, the first to stumble inside. His cries went unanswered, just like in the two previous warehouses. But he swept his torch along the floor, tracing the corners of the room as his mind tried to make sense of illuminated shapes and shadows.

Then he saw it.

Legs.

Pairs of legs.

JB and Mark lurched forwards. “HERE!” cried JB, calling the rest of the group. The group would inform the others. They’d get the medics to come. They’d handle that part. They had to. Because right then, all Mark and JB cared about was the huddled shape on the cold ground. Torches in one hand, they shook the two younger ones, calling their names, pleading them to answer, to respond, to show some sign of life.

But there was none.

With one hand, Mark had wrenched Jackson’s arms away from Jinyoung’s body. “Jackson?” Mark asked, his voice hallow, hesitant. Scared. Jackson’s eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes resting against his cheeks. Jackson would have looked like he was sleeping if not for the discolouration on his lips and skin. Seeing the usually plush pink lips an abnormal shade of blue made Mark’s heart constrict as if crushed mercilessly by cruel unfeeling fingers. They couldn’t be too late, it can’t be too late. Mark grasped the collar of Jackson’s leather jacket, shaking it almost in fury before gripping the side of Jackson’s neck. “Jackson! Answer me!” Mark demanded but Jackson didn’t respond. Not a twitch of his lips or the flicker of an eye. None of the usual mirth or laughter. None of his spark. “You can’t d-” but Mark couldn’t bring himself to say the word, the one word that at that instant embodied his worst nightmare. “Damn it, Kaka. You can’t. I’ll never forgive you,” Mark threatened, his voice shaking but his eyes intense and livid as he fought off the various hands that finally managed to wrench him away from Jackson’s side. “I’ll never forgive you!” screamed Mark, his eyes fixed on the boy lying on the ground, a boy whose face was peaceful, oblivious to Mark’s terror. Others had come running, metallic sheets in their hands, blankets a plenty. Finally, the medics came and without wasting anymore time, bundled the frozen boys unto stretchers and set off, JB and Mark following in their wake.

After a fierce and desperate argument between the boys and the medics, JB climbed into the ambulance that Jinyoung had been wheeled into while Mark was in Jackson’s. They had utterly refused to leave the two, wanting to just see them. To just keep them visible. It was irrational, they knew, but who cared about logic when their emotions and adrenaline were all that carried them. After promising fervently that they would not hinder or impede the medic team, the attendants had conceded. It was more urgent to get them treated.

The ride to the nearest hospital seemed to take forever for Mark. Squeezed into a corner of the moving vehicle, his eyes were in a permanent state of shock, his lips set in a grim line as his vision was filled with a flurry of hands and tubes and gadgets pulled out from hidden storage compartments. The barked orders and instructions were a gibberish of numbers and names more complicated than anything he had ever studied in Chemistry. But he listened, he listened because he wanted to know how Jackson was doing. Back when he found Jackson and Jinyoung lying on the ground, it hadn’t occurred to him to check if Jackson was breathing or had a pulse.

“His vitals are weak,” Mark heard one attendant tell the other, making brief but telling eye contact.

Mark’s body jerked to attention. That phrase he understood. That phrase he knew boded ill. That phrase was not what he wanted to hear right then. And weak? Jackson was never weak! Jackson was a gold medallist who fought through close battles with confident steps and swipes of his sabre. Worked to the bone with barely ten hours of sleep for days and Jackson could still put on a smile for the camera. Weak? Jackson? Never. Mark refused to accept it.

“JACKSON!” roared Mark, startling the attendants. Springing up from his seat, Mark made his way to the stretcher, not caring that one of the attendants was trying to wrestle him away. “You are NOT weak, you hear me?! You WILL survive this! I swear, if you don’t give it your all, I’ll kick your into the next century!”

“Sir, SIR!” yelled the attendant, finally gaining an upper hand when Mark stopped to inhale after shouting. “Sit down, sir. You swore not to interfere.”

Mark was breathing hard but the attendant’s words reminded Mark to regain some form of self-control and so he sat down again. Besides, Mark wanted the attendant to do his job, to attend to Jackson, to save one of the people he held closest to his heart in this world.

At the hospital, however, Mark was prevented from entering the emergency ward. With a last cry of “You fight this, Jackson!” the nurses pulled the curtains firmly close. Mark stood rooted to the spot, helpless, lost. Unsure of what to do. People walked past him, sometimes with grumbles that he was in the way but Mark paid them no heed. His eyes were just fixed on the shadowy outlines behind the curtains, shadows that were working on Jackson. It wasn’t until he felt gentle hands grip his shoulders that he turned to see that Yugyeom was standing next to him. Gently, the youngest of the group pulled Mark towards the others who had gathered at nearby chairs; their manager, more a doting but strict older brother than a manager really, Youngjae, Bambam and JB. The sight was incomplete and though only two were missing, it was too evident. The gaps were too painful. 

As Mark sat down, partially pushed by Yugyeom, he realised that JB was sitting next to him. It was then he noticed the fear in JB’s eyes and his leader’s face was stained by trails of tears that had frozen on its path down his cheeks. Without thinking, Mark raised his hand that was still wrapped in warm gloves to trace those tears.

“Don’t cry,” Mark murmured.

JB’s attempt at a smirk became a grimace. “You too,” JB replied, raising his own hand to trace Mark’s own tears.

“They’re strong,” said Youngjae, his voice rough because he was simultaneously trying to be positive but found it extremely hard not to succumb to tears. “Jackson hyung and Jinyoung hyung are strong,” he said, repeating it to himself over and over again as if it were a mantra that if repeated enough, would come true. The others either nodded or grunted in reply.

Then, after what seemed like ages, a doctor approached them. Mark and JB got to their feet, bodies tensed as they watched the man come closer, his face giving away nothing.

“Friends of Jackson Wang and Park Jinyoung?” asked the doctor.

More than friends, thought the guys but did not protest while their manager nodded. They just wanted to know.

“They’re stable,” the doctor told them. At this, there was a collective sigh of sheer relief. He continued, “They have to admitted though. We’ll only find out the extent of any possible damage when they wake. They were exposed to the cold for too long to be sure.”

“Thank you, Dr. Thank you,” said the manager while the boys echoed the words. Smiling, the doctor walked away, leaving a nurse to go through some paperwork with the manager while, without a word or sign, the five boys threw their arms around each other, huddling together as tight as possible. It didn’t seem that any of them were breathing. It was as if they were afraid to speak, to say anything, just in case an enchantment was broken, hardly daring to belief that after the horrid hours, everything was going to be alright. Jackson and Jinyoung weren’t taken from them. Jackson and Jinyoung were still with them. They’d be able to hear Jackson’s hyena laugh echoing in their dorm, they’d be able to hear Jinyoung complaining when the group made too much noise, they’d be able to hear the two friends bickering, they’d be able to still call themselves Got7 in the truest sense of their name.

Youngjae’s breath hitched as he stifled a sob. Yugyeom was next, screwing his face and eyes tight to stop the tears. Then it was Mark who gave in and cried which opened the floodgates. The five boys bawled right there in plain view along the brightly lid hospital hallway.

*               *                *

Jinyoung was fast asleep. Until, that is, the guy sleeping on the one and only other bed in the room decided to climb under his covers.

“Umf,” protested Jinyoung in a grunt, grumpy that his sleep was being disturbed.

“Ssh,” came Jackson’s hoarse whisper as Jinyoung felt the other bury his face in the space between his neck and his shoulder. An arm came to rest on Jinyoung’s chest, palm placed above where his heat beat steadily under his ribcage.

“You have your own bed,” grumbled Jinyoung, not bothering to open his eyes or do anything to reject Jackson treating him as if he were a bolster.

“I just wanted to feel your heart beating,” replied Jackson in a hushed voice as if keeping as quiet as possible would lull Jinyoung back to sleep.

At this, Jinyoung could not resist but opened his eyes to glare at Jackson, shifting his upper body a little so that Jackson’s questioning eyes met his. “There’s a freaking machine that beeps to tell you that, idiot.”

“Tsk,” clucked Jackson dismissively before snuggling against Jinyoung. “You weren’t listening to what I said. I said I wanted to feel your heart beating, not hear it.”

Jinyoung snorted softly in reply. “You got me there,” he admitted, smiling as he closed his eyes and burrowed his head into the pillow. Hoping that sleep would take him again, he sighed. Then something occurred to him. “Why?” he asked Jackson out of curiosity.

“Because there was a time, a moment when I couldn’t,” answered Jackson, his voice bereft of any sign that he was joking. “And it scared me… more than you know.” There had been an instant in the warehouse when Jackson had no longer been able to feel Jinyoung’s heartbeat. They had tried very hard not to fall asleep, not to give in to their bodies’ desire to shut down. They had taken turns to recite lines of their songs in an effort to keep awake but suddenly Jinyoung wasn’t replying and no matter how much Jackson pleaded with him to wake up, Jinyoung just didn’t. That was a memory that would haunt him for life, Jackson was sure of it.

Jinyoung didn’t really know how to reply. The experience was still too raw. Instead of words, Jinyoung slipped an arm under Jackson’s neck so that Jackson was nestled more comfortably against him on the bed and settled his other hand on Jackson’s, squeezing it to reassure his friend that he was all there, breathing and alive. In response, Jackson pressed his hand more firmly against Jinyoung’s chest, taking comfort in the gentle rhythmic thud of Jinyoung’s heart.

And that was the position in which the rest of their members found them the next morning.

“Ewww,” moaned Bambam teasingly which woke the two on the bed. Forcing open their sleepy eyes at the group, Jackson and Jinyoung recognised who they were but the two friends promptly chose to ignore the others, snuggling even closer together as they tightened their embrace.  

“Live with it,” Jackson commented to the rest in a huff, his voice heavy with sleep.

Jinyoung hummed in agreement. “For the rest of your lives,” he added for good measure, nuzzling his chin against Jackson’s hair.

JB and Mark shared a meaningful glance at each other.

“Gladly,” replied JB.