It had been a long day. For all that the flight from hong Kong was only a few hours, there was still the traffic, the security, the mass of people crammed in too tight, too rushed and too tired, all overlaying Youngbae’s post-concert hangover. Hours spent being poked and prodded were things that the even the excesses of celebrity and a virtual cocoon seat couldn’t mitigate.

Youngbae’s body ached, from exertion, from fatigue, for home. It was raining when he landed which suited his mood just fine. Twilight was a slow fade from grey to black as he stared out of the van window, lulled into a daze by Seoul’s lights and the rocking rhythm of stop, start, traffic, highway.

A small chime from his pocket pulled his attention. He took out his phone and blinked at its over-bright screen, eyes aching.

Hyung 7:45pm

Welcome home.

There was an accompanying picture from his fansite of him leaving Incheon not half-an hour ago. He smiled then pulled up a separate conversation.

Your-bae 7:46pm

Hey love

just landed but I’m gonna be late. you ok waiting?

He rested his hand and phone in his lap as he turned back to stare out the window. Thoughts threatened but he pushed them away, he wasn’t up to facing actual worries just now. He wrapped himself in the rain turning to a fog that blurred the surrounding car-lights into a soft haze. Another chime intruded and a small smile curved his lips.

Minmin 7:50pm

Course. I’ll let myself in.

Kiss me if I’m asleep when you come in.

He began typing a response but before he could hit send another message arrived

MinMin 7:51pm

Also, tell him I love him

And he better come over this weekend for dinner.

The smile teasing his lips spread into a grin and he felt a tell-tale tug at his heart. This is why he loved her so.

“Take me to Seunghyun’s,” he said to his driver.

“Not home?” the driver asked and Youngbae shook his head.

“No, not yet.”

Seunghyun had rearranged the furniture, he noted as he kicked off his feet and stepped into the living room. Well - not so much rearranged as just shoved everything around to achieve his intended purpose.

The couch had been turned to the large windows, open to catch the sounds of Seoul, balcony above blocking the rain. Youngbae shivered with the chill.

Lit by the yellow light of a single lamp, Seunghyun sprawled on his sofa, slouched back to accommodate the acoustic guitar on his stomach. Youngbae recognized it as a relic from Seunghyun’s preparations for Secret Message.

A ripple of notes joined the cacophony of bus gears, moped buzzes and car horns.

“Thought that was just collecting dust,” Youngbae teased as he shuffled into the kitchen.

“Hoobae-yoon came over,” Seunghyun said over another shimmer of notes.

“That’s sweet.” Youngbae helped himself to Seunghyun’s fridge and grabbed a couple bottles of water. There was no beer or soju amidst the containers of bonchon, he noted. He looked around the kitchen. A glance to the always-open door to the cellar showed it closed. The counter was bare, no bottle of wine decanting.

He uncapped a bottle and tossed the lid into the recycling bin and took a gulp of water as he walked back to Seunghyun.

A familiar progression of notes rang out and Youngbae chuckled at his own song. He put a bottle on the floor by Seunghyun and righted the skew of an armchair, sitting so his knee fell just shy of brushing Seunghyun’s.

Their eyes met and Seunghyun’s grin was playful as he played through to the first verse. In his mind, Youngbae could hear the words, words he’d sung just last night to a crowd of thousands. But neither of them spoke.

He waited out the first verse, but almost as though reading his mind, Seunghyun’s deep voice began at the same time as Youngbae started to sing the chorus.

I remember this road

That we used to drive on together

With the beautiful evening sunset

And my reflection in your smiling eyes

Now I’m just on an empty road

He loved Seunghyun’s voice, rich yet tentative, strong yet shy. Seunghyun always protested that he wasn’t a singer, he was a rapper, yet how could he be anything but a singer when his voice was so piercing, so moving, emotive?

All the coaxing and cajoling it had taken to put his singing on the last album had been worth it.

They moved over the easy melody of Seunghyun’s guitar onto the next bit of chorus.

I’m standing here

Cuz it feels like you’ll be here too

I’m standing here

Though I know you’re not here

I’m standing here

Cuz I miss you so much

Now I’m just on an empty road

Sometimes their road felt empty, endless. It was daunting and lonely at the top of their mountain. Sometimes it was easy to forget there were others standing there, too. He’d never asked, but Youngbae was certain Seunghyun felt the same. He slouched a bit deeper in his chair, knee pressing against Seunghyun’s, searching for the warm comfort of a familiar body.

They sang together, voices overlapping in the dim light. The world sloughed away bit by bit, washed away by the waves of sound rolling off Seunghyun’s guitar, batted away by the twined threads of their voices. There was no city, no crowds, no rain or darkness, no light or fears. The precipice that always seemed to gape below them receded to nothing. There was only two voices, human in their exhaustion, their flaws.

Youngbae’s voice cracked a few times, unable to go high enough when he was slumped and half-asleep. Seunghyun sang the wrong words here and there, brief dissonance under Youngbae’s singing. Yet they sang together, harmonizing the last line.

Now I’m just on an empty road

Youngbae expected the song to slink into silence, for the world outside the window to creep back to them.

Instead, Seunghyun plucked out a familiar melody and Youngbae bust out into a raucous laugh.

In the worst possible singing voice he could muster, Seunghyun shrieked out the familiar children’s song.

There are three bears in a house

Father bear, Mommy bear, baby bear!

Youngbae took up the rest

Daddy bear is fatty

Mommy bear is slim

Baby bear is too cute

Shrug shrug you are doing well!

Seunghyun shouted the last well then gave a furious, atonal strum of the guitar and stopped.

“You are a nerd,” Youngbae said. Seunghyun gave him a wry smile and sat forward to get his water bottle from the floor.

“You know it,” he said with an arch of his brow. He gulped down half the bottle then returned it to the floor. Sinking back into the couch, Seunghyun plucked at the guitar.

Youngbae stared at the ceiling as a millisecond of eternity flitted by.

“Is it?” Seunghyun asked all of a sudden and his face was achingly serious though his tone was light.

“Is it what?” Youngbae asked.

“Is it empty?” Seunghyun asked and Youngbae recalled the words of his song. The road. The empty road.

“No,” Youngbae promised. I’m here with you, he thought, always.

“It feels endless.”

Youngbae nodded. “Sometimes it is.”

“But not empty?”

“No, hyung,” Youngbae reached forward and pressed his hand to Seunghyun’s thigh. “Never empty.”

Seunghyun’s eyes met his and he nodded then looked away, blinking rapidly.

“Ya, have you eaten?” Youngbae asked. Seunghyun shook his head. Youngbae ignored the stuttering of Seunghyun’s breath and he stood and stretched. “Come on I’ll make ramyun.”

He left Seunghyun to plink around on the guitar for a few more minutes as he went to the kitchen and started up the stove.

Eventually Seunghyun stood and joined him, leaving the guitar propped on the couch. Tomorrow he would go to work his military office-job. Tomorrow Youngbae would prep for the next leg of his tour, but tonight they would listen to the music of Seoul streaming in from Seunghyun’s window and eat ramyun side by side.