“Hello?”

“Hey bro…” He hasn’t answered any calls from Sanghyuk in a few days, not really wanting to deal with the talk that would enssue. He is not in any condition to explain anything.

But too much silence is making him deaf and he needs to distract himself, even if it’s like this, with more problems.

How else would he explain why he’s lying in bed when it’s not even six o’clock yet. “Jaehwan and I are planning on going out tonight,” He starts, almost tentative. “To the 326th, you know? Wanna join in? I’ve heard you’ve been pretty down with this whole thing about Taekwoon and I thought… I don’t know, you could use some time out?”

Hongbin shifts around in bed, facing the wall. “I’m busy… Maybe next time.”

“You sure? It’s gonna be fun.”

“I’m sure.” With this mood all he would accomplish is ending up on someone’s bed or worse, crying in public again. He cried enough. “Thanks for inviting me though.”

“Look… About what I said–”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t trying to rub salt on any wounds or anything.”

“I know. I’m not mad, seriously… Just ing tired.” Eyes closed for a second, he needs a smoke... Really needs a smoke, but he won't buy a pack when he wants a single cigarette. He'll have to deal with the urge, then.

A beat of silence passes, Hongbin almost dozes off, staring at the space between his body and the wall. Again. “You sure you’re not mad?”

“Yes.”

“Still friends?”

“I guess…”

“Good.” He seems truly relieved and Hongbin buries his nose into his own pillow. Friends yeah? Since when?

Since when Hongbin has any friends at all? He was so careful as to keep the gap, keep the space. Since when? “I’m gonna call you again when we go to the karaoke, and you already agreed on coming so you better come or I’mma bodily harm you.”

“Yeah… ‘Kay.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“And hey…” He sighs, and Hongbin buries his face deeper into the pillow, this worry he hears in Sanghyuk's voice makes his skin crawl. “Take it easy, okay dude?”

“Yeah… I will.”

“Okay, see ya.”

He hangs up first, pushing the portable off the bed and into the floor, it clacks drily against the hardwood floor, and he groans. Silence is his only answer.

A second later he is sitting up, getting the headphones and putting some blasting loud music, moving to sit by the porch and stare at the sky, get some fresh air.  

Listen to the cars on the street.

See... Taekwoon right across the parking… Force himself... To stay breathing.

“Hey.” Taekwoon is parked in front of his house, dressed in some black hoodie with his lips split and purple bruised cheeks, looking like he just lost the local fist fight of the neighborhood.

But this neighborhood has no local fist fights and Taekwoon doesn't seem the type to take part in those things anyway. “How did...?”

“I asked Hakyeon.” Taekwoon is smug about it, about finding out where he lives without even calling him to ask about it. Not that they had exchanged numbers or anything like that… They never did that.

“W-When did they… When w-were you–” His voice shakes, breath picking up. Hongbin feels himself rattle, feel his insides being filled with bile, bitter on the back of his throat because he... Taekwoon is not-

“Got off jail? Yesterday. I’m under conditional.” He sounds sheepish about it, as if it would make him sound like a criminal.

Hongbin pushes the headphones away, not sure of what to do now… What to say… What could he even say… Staring at Taekwoon’s bruises with his heart on the tip of his tongue. He has no words…

He… Lee Hongbin, has no words.

“Who's that Hongbinnie?” Hongbin jumps back to the present with his grandma watering the flowers on the porch, measuring Taekwoon down like she is trying to understand why he's all busted. “A friend from work?”

“Kind...of…” Hongbin tries to think of things, things to say… But nothing emerges the fog of his own mind. Taekwoon and his bruised face standing just across the street not dead and safe. He pulls his own blouse closer to himself, suddenly cold at the idea he came to accept as a possibility that maybe– possibly even…

Taekwoon could have died.

“Would you like to join us for coffee dear? Hongbinnie doesn't usually bring anyone here.”

“I won't stay long Mrs.Lee, don't mind me.”

“What happened to your face young man?” She sets the watering can down, drying her hands on her long gray skirt.

“Grandma can you excuse us for a moment?” Hongbin hops his way down the porch, giving his grandmother an asking glance and she pats her skirt but walks back inside, admonishing.

Hongbin is always thankful for that. “Is she…”

For a second Hongbin doesn't understand the question, brain all scattered along the sidewalk as if Taekwoon had ran him over with that black car of his. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It's her.”

“She seems nice.”

“I… yeah…” from up close Taekwoon's bruises look uglier, swollen, shiny, angry. “Does it hurt...?” His hands are reaching dumbly, not sure of where to place them… Is he hurt? Is he in pain? Should he go to a hospital? Did they feed him? Did he sleep well?

The little flinch deceives the words when Hongbin’s hand settles lightly on his cheek. “It's bearable…” Taekwoon tells him, sheepish, with a little pained smile that makes his split lip stretch.

“I wasn’t… Expecting you…” And then silence, and Hongbin struggling with things to say as Taekwoon shuffles on his feet, undoubtedly thinking this idea, this whole idea of coming here was a bad one when it wasn't… When Hongbin is happy to know he is okay, that he is out of jail at the very least.

“Do you…” Taekwoon's eyes turn to him and he falters for his a second. Why this? Why the words keep tumbling out of his hands like this? “Would you like to have some coffee…? Grandma will be real mad if you ditch her.”

“Are you sure you don't mind that?”

“I'm… sure, yeah. Unless you have other things to say then I can–”

“I'm free.”

“Good.”

“Good…” Taekwoon stuffs his hands into his pockets and Hongbin makes a vague hand gesture to awkwardly indicate he should follow.

Instructions to take off his shoes comes right after.

And then a stiff introduction.

This is Taekwoon… from work…

He watches with some dread as his grandmother grabs Taekwoon by the arm and guides him to the kitchen and how absolutely dazed Taekwoon seems being guided around the house as she shoots him multiple personal questions in sequence. “Are you a biologist too, dear?”

“No, I'm… I'm an engineer. Thank you.” Taekwoon shyly accepts the cup of fresh coffee from her hands. She bought out the festive porcelain, this is an occasion. And Important landmark in history it seems.

Hongbin has friends for real this time.

He's right here.

Sitting on the kitchen.

“Are you married?”

“I… no, not really.”

“Your such a charming young man, that's surprising. Do you plan on getting married someday? It would be such a waste for such a handsome man to be single forever.” Taekwoon chokes on his coffee a little. It's endearing to see how exasperated he is about the compliments. “Hongbin here is already such a disappointment. I mean he is such a handsome boy too. Always alone all the time, always working… He used to be so popular at school I don't know what went wrong.”

“Grandma~”

“Okay, okay you whiny baby. Why don't you show your friend the house while I get the first aid kit? Gotta put something on these bruises.”

Taekwoon looks instantly three times more awkward. “I-I don't mind it, I mean that's just a little bruise.”

“Yes, and the Federation is not just a bunch of tyrants in fancy suits. Wait a second, I'll get the first aid kit… Do you like cake? Well, of course everybody​ loves cake silly me.” She leaves, shaking her head. Well at least now we all know who is responsible for Hongbin's sass.

“Come. I'll show you the house.” Taekwoon's eyes are too wide and he looks slightly put-off by the situation. As if he expected her to ignore his bruised face and not do absolutely anything about that at all. If he had any idea of how impossible that is, he wouldn’t look so surprised. “I… okay.”

“Here's the kitchen, obviously. There's the living room, my room is on that door over there and grandma's is right on the other side.” Taekwoon looks around silently as he speaks eyes attentive to the small potted plants on the corners and the glass ornaments over the table, the pictures on the wall Hongbin photographed himself on his free time but always gave off that feeling of those premade pictures that come with the frames you buy in the supermarket.

It was all his grandmother's idea to put them on the walls, like those stories of mother's that put their kid's drawings on the refrigerator. It's the same principle he figures. “Impressed at how small my house is?”

“Hm? Oh no, I like it.” Taekwoon says, touching one of the glass ducks on the coffee table. “It's homey. My house's not like that… All that boxed furniture that come with these modern houses. I'm not good with those things you know.” He scratches his neck a little shyly. “I can build robots from scratch but can't seem to be capable of choosing some curtains. I always end up picking the pre-selected choices that come in the catalog.”

Hong