It’s five in the morning when Seungcheol rouses. He clambers out of bed dazedly, yawning as he shuffles into the kitchen and gets himself a glass of water. He’s halfway through the glass when he sees that the light is on in Jihoon’s little home studio.

Seungcheol frowns, confused. Jihoon had gone to bed with him, so he wouldn’t be in there…. Would he?

A peek in the bedroom confirms his suspicions. The bed is empty, and Seungcheol knocks on the door even though he knows Jihoon won’t hear him with his headphones on.

He peers into the room quietly. Jihoon doesn’t have his headphones on, but he doesn’t seem to have heard Seungcheol either. He doesn’t move from his position with his forehead still in his hands, music program with layers and layers of beats and melodies on the screen in front of him.

“Jihoon?” Seungcheol whispers. No reaction. Seungcheol hesitantly touches Jihoon’s shoulder and the boy jerks upright, like someone tried to attack him.

“Seungcheol,” he breathes out, letting out a sigh of relief. “You scared me,” he says, slumping against the table again.

“Work?”

Jihoon runs a hand through his hair and opens his mouth, like he wants to deny, but Seungcheol knows the answer anyway.

“Yeah,” he eventually answers with a sigh. “They said it was fine last week and now suddenly I need to change the whole thing,” he says.

How long have you been up? Seungcheol wants to ask. Did you even sleep?

“How’s it going?” he asks, even though it can't be good if Jihoon is awake at five in the morning and holding his head in his hands.

Jihoon's expression is grim. “I can't seem to get the right transition into the bridge, but I've been working on it for ages, and I can't seem to fix it.”

Seungcheol tugs at his headphones. “Stand up, actually walk out of this room. I'll make coffee, then try working on it again.”

Jihoon looks at him, exasperated. Seungcheol starts moving like he will physically drag Jihoon out of his chair (which he has done before), so Jihoon sighs, swats his hands away and gets up.

“You should go back to sleep though,” Jihoon says as he rubs his eyes, heading for the bathroom.

Seungcheol just smiles. “Not a chance.”

He makes coffee from the instant packets Jihoon always uses, adds extra sugar to his own, and heads back to the little home studio.

Seungcheol mucks around on Jihoon’s laptop while the younger works. He can see the complicated music program on the dual screens, can see all the layers of beats and melodies. It’s gotten even more complicated since Seungcheol last saw Jihoon working. It’s been years, and Seungcheol is sure the technology in the top end of the music industry would improve at an incredible rate, but he’s still surprised.

Jihoon is focused as he works, large headphones resting on his head, making him look small as he adds the tiniest bits to the track. Every little bit counts, and for a producer like Jihoon, every little effect and choice he makes on the track has meaning. There’s a reason Jihoon has a signature sound and is recognised and respected in the music industry.

A couple of times, Jihoon asks for Seungcheol’s opinion, about whether the beat comes in too early, or if the harmony is loud enough under the melody, but for the most part, Jihoon works in his own little bubble of isolation. Seungcheol plays around on his laptop, listening to the old tracks they used to make when they were younger, in high school, college and the early years of working when Jihoon still came back at night. Seungcheol listens to their old music, and watches Jihoon.

He still bites his lip when he’s trying to decide between something, and he taps out the beat every time he listens to the track again. He still forgets to eat, and drink (Seungcheol has to nudge him to drink the coffee he made). So little has changed, it makes Seungcheol smile through the hours.

Jihoon is finally satisfied with the track sometime in the late morning, and Seungcheol hauls him to his feet to drag him to the bedroom and tuck him back into bed.

“Aren’t you sleeping too?” Jihoon asks through a yawn. He looks like he’s already drifting off, and Seungcheol smiles.

“I’ll do a few things around the apartment first, then I’ll come nap,” he says and Jihoon blearily opens his eyes and sits up a little.

“Need me to... do something?” he asks, blinking slowly.

Seungcheol smiles and tucks him back in. “No, just go to sleep. We can have dinner later,”

“Okay… I’m sorry we couldn’t do something today,” Jihoon mumbles. A moment later, soft snores can be heard, the young man already dreaming.

Seungcheol watches Jihoon for a moment before getting up and going to the kitchen. He stares at all the ingredients in the fridge before picking out a few things.

Twenty minutes later, the stew is beginning to bubble in the pot and Seungcheol is trying to remember how to use the o