It had not taken long for Yesung to notice the abnormal change in Kyuhyun's drinking habits. He could have addressed it anytime; yank the offending bottle out of the maknae's hands and beg for his reformation and awakening. Unfortunately, the only free time presented itself after the gruelling schedules throughout the day, after which Kyuhyun was wont to slip away at the slightest probe of concern. His knackered being, too, coveted the velvet warmth and sanctuary of his bed, but he was never too spent to drop in and account for the maknae's wellbeing.

 

It was not superficial possessiveness, though, that affected him to go to lengths ensure thus. This was the doe-eyed, unquestioning brunette who had shared a room with him for a month; the same maknae who during variety shows, but still came to him, assured that he would nonetheless tutor him in his vocal skills. Many a night had they shared their dreams and aspirations, and sound solace in each other from the rigours of the constantly evolving entertainment world. Even if Yesung could fully unravel and be effervescent in his presence, he retained his role as hyung, for he knew Kyuhyun treasured his calm, soothing side that was a balm to any grievance. Their singular bond, marked by matching undisguised reason with wit, sentiment with logic, and kindness with reciprocance, was undeniably mutual and deep.

 

Kyuhyun, however, had been appearing oddly more distrait, distant and withdrawn. It was such a departure from his usual self that the older vocalist missed the tiniest things: his bashful smile, his full cackles of laughter, his increasingly natural bestowments of physical affection. Instincts flaring, Yesung had offered to accompany him back to the dorms and stay for the night, instead of heading home. He hadn't told the maknae that they would be sharing rooms for the night; an initiation of his own.

 

“Kyuhyun ah, no drinking tonight, let's be sober to talk.” Yesung firmly cautioned, staying Kyuhyun's hand, grasped around a green tinted wine bottle with his own. Even with his back him where he lounged on the bed, Yesung trusted him more than enough to heed his words eventually.

 

“But hyung...I often do this.” Kyuhyun protested vaguely, as if unsure of his own resolve. In the orange-lit room the nostalgia, sentiment and congeniality were infused in the atmosphere, accounting perhaps for Kyuhyun's lack of resistance. “Kyu, please wait, I'm making hot chocolate. Not too sweet, and with marshmallows.” His hand strayed on his dongsaeng's shoulder, touch fleeting but impactive. Kyuhyun seemed to relent, submitting to his request. Wait while I go to the kitchen. I'll be back.

 

Though unused to flavourful drinks after dusk, Yesung focused on his task at hand, fetching the hot water flask, the hot chocolate powder sachets and two mugs. The chime of the mugs against each other preceded the chink of the metal flask, and with a rustle, hazel powder settled in a mound at the bottom of each mug. His thoughts drove intermittently towards Kyuhyun as he pondered on how to address his concerns. Allowing his instincts to lead, he composed himself, stilling his endless worries and bearing the steaming mugs back to Kyuhyun's room.

 

“Yesung. Hyung.” The maknae was calling.

 

Yesung looked up, feeling a part of himself surge forwards and listen with fraught attention. “Hey, I'm here. Tell me what's bothering you.” He settled down by the younger man at the crook of the wall on the bed, knees drawn out before him like his. All the while his head was tilted sideways to observe his lineaments, in as thorough a manner as he knew would be acceptable.

 

Kyuhyun was staring back at him from the corner of his eyes, a wan smile hanging off the crevasse of his lips.  Inhibited? Check.

 

“Kyu, how are you?” The slowly enunciated question was not to be taken as being patronising; it was for added emphasis and sincerity. Kyuhyun's head dipped wordlessly towards him, and soon his head was nestled on his shoulder, conferring far more intimacy than Yesung had expected of Kyuhyun in bad spirits.

 

“Come on,” Yesung coaxed without an ounce of impatience, “I'll be here to listen. Anything else can wait.”

 

A small floodgate had been released, diffusing the sudden tension in the atmosphere...

 

“I've been drinking, that's all. More than I should, but I don't know otherwise. How did you know?” he whispered into the air, as if hindered by pain.

 

Yesung's breath had released in a soft stream as if struck by revelation. “You've been a little off, don't you know? I was observing and I onl- really want to help.”

 

A distant smile was applying itself to Kyuhyun's lips. “You're very observant of details, hyung.”

 

“It comes from spending so much time together. Now, maknae, explain yourself. I can't stop caring about how you are, you know?” Yesung's arm wound around his back like a protective mantle, and he proceeded to rock him gently.

 

“I know you care, hyung. That's why I feel pressured. I thought I was being subtle, but you somehow saw I was ‘off’.” Kyuhyun conceded. Despite his reservations about admitting this, it came out smooth and unrestricted. Yesung knew how to pave the way to get someone to divulge something; a trait in which he was immeasurably gratified.

 

He saw Yesung purse his lips, as if considering how to tread henceforth. He was not the kind of person who would say in response, “Of course you weren't that subtle. Hyung can see through it all, because I care so much.” As well meaning as it was, there was the irreducible sense of self and aggrandizement that Yesung alone seemed to be able to quell in the face of someone needing a listener, or a shoulder to lean against.

 

“Please don't feel pressured, Kyu. It is the duty of a hyung to care so much.” In a fluid, natural movement, he brought his hand up to tousle his brown hair, amusement settling on his features at Kyuhyun's indignant snort.

 

“Alright. Well, I'm kind of depressed.” Contrary to scoffing at his less than climatic admission, Yesung merely tightened his hold around the maknae.

 

“It's alright. You can tell me.”

 

“It's been tough around the other hyungs at times. I feel as if they expect a lot, but I don't know how to do it.”

 

A silence, one created by the elder's attentiveness, ensued.

 

“I mean, I know they are under a lot of pressure taking care of the dongsaengs and maintaining our image, but I wish they would tell me. What I should do, whether they need help or not.” Through his sudden rambling, his voice became congested with the formation of tears. Shaken but keeping a calm front, Yesung massaged the small of his back with an unwavering hand, humming his acknowledgement of Kyuhyun's troubles.

 

“It's ok, you're Kyuhyun, our indispensable maknae. Your hyungs may get impatient and lose their temper, but they'll always love you. They are thoughtless sometimes, but there are so many of us here; it's hard to get along perfectly. Hmm?” At the younger man's distraught, undecided expression, Yesung added, “Some of us will owe you an apology. If I have done anything wrong, please forgive me as well.”

 

“No, no,” Kyuhyun fumbled to correct him, “You haven't done anything. Jongwoon-hyung, you're very kind to me. You're very interesting, in a nice way.” he mumbled, as if unused to being forthright in his emotions.

 

“Not everyone finds me interesting. You're one of those who do. That, I must thank you.” Yesung said with residual laughter, embracing him fully such that Kyuhyun's chin rested at the crook of his nape. “Don't cry ah, Kyu, it's fine, it's fine,” he murmured, feeling the waves of hurt and frustration emanate from him. “I'll tell the others to take more care of you.”

 

“Hnnnn...hyunggg, not...fair…,” grumbled Kyuhyun through his sobs as Yesung placated him, encompassing him in his arms so fully that their upper bodies were almost flush against each other, like a portmanteau form.

 

“It's been hard on all of us, especially you, Kyuhyun ah,” Yesung crooned soothingly, still embracing him as the younger man heaved upon his shoulder.

 

“Jongwoon hyung… how come is it that you're so strong? Don't you have troubles?” Kyuhyun asked, slightly ragged breathing intoning a spasmodic constant in the background. He felt the older man stiffen in surprise, before a dry chuckle escaped from his lips.

 

“I'm strong, you think so?” he asked in genuine surprise and with unexpected pleasure, “I have to be, being one of the eldest. I have my troubles, but I, I deal with them fine.”

 

Through the swollenness of his eyes, Kyuhyun fixed Yesung with a slightly stern and insistent gaze. “Don't pretend now. I mean, you're someone almost everyone goes to for advice and solutions. If you are troubled, who do you tell your troubles to?” In the wake of his question, a contemplative silence ensued as Yesung gathered his thoughts. At his instinctive aversion of Kyuhyun's gaze, the maknae said with bittersweet triumph, “You don't talk to anyone about them, do you? Haish.”

 

“Kyuhyun, I'm supposed to be comforting you now. You're interrogating me.” Yesung mused, the humour insipid in his voice. Kyuhyun simply sighed, melding into his shoulder once again. They stayed silent the next quarter of an hour, the ticking of the clock somehow foreshadowing a mortuary.

 

Kyuhyun broke the silence, staring deep into the fathomless chasm that was Yesung's eyes. An emerging fascination bred into his gaze, the maknae dwelled on the mystery within them, unable to discern why he felt this way solely around Yesung. His songs were punctuated with an inexhaustible reserve of emotion and a sensuality that was never intrusive to the ears, yet he had such a calming presence. His conversational voice was soft, dulcet and wrought with velvet, like a procession of stirring water rather than jarringly enunciated syllables.

 

“Yesung, please tell me what you're thinking about now.” Kyuhyun mused, crown of his head tickling the elder's ear. His chest rose and fell, solid and undulating.

 

“You're a very special maknae.” Yesung mused. “I'd like to see you happy and fulfilled. I'd like to see Super Junior successful and likeable. Just treat me as one of you; that is my only wish.”

 

His lacquer irises shifted towards the now-tepid mug of hot chocolate. The marshmallows had dissolved completely, leaving small tufts of white foam on the surface.

 

“Let's drink this to toast the night. No more drowning in soju again.” He pushed the cup playfully towards the supported form of the maknae, tilting the cup at the crack of his lips. Kyuhyun nearly choked at the overt sweetness that clamped down on his throat, but swallowed a mouthful without protest.

 

“It's awful.”

 

“Yah… just drink it. I blessed it already.”

 

“I feel empowered.” Kyuhyun chuckled.

 

“Good man.” Glancing at the clock, which now struck 12:17am, Yesung ushered him to bed and settled down near him, hearing his deep, restful breathing for the first time in a while.