The evening chill settled in early, and the sun was on its downward spiral to retire for the early night. Henry looked outward onto it and checked his phone - no calls yet, and the weather was changing drastically to dip into the negatives later in the night.

His view out of the window was overlooking a quiet neighborhood - light on rooftops and leaves of trees as bright and orange as the sky. A familiar sight, one from distant memory from the last time he was in this studio.

He smiled to himself, the sky, maybe god because this is it!

His knee bounced excitedly, a burden to him and the coffee he almost spilled on himself just a few moments before. His phone was silent for the better part of the day except for the words from his managers, the best connection he had to his schedule at the moment. The new album, the new concept, this new part of his career - he was equal parts stressed as he was excited that he'd be back in the China spotlight.

He was ready, however, for something else. Someone else.

He's almost here, a thought that keeps crossing his mind every time he looks at his watch and sees another five minutes slipped away.

He doesn't see the car drive up, so the gentle laughter drifting from the hallways jostles him from his thoughts and when he turns to the door, Ryeowook is there, doorknob in hand and talking to Donghae, just a step behind.

It's been... months? Sometimes it feels like years in the entertainment industry, and Henry loses extra time when they haven't seen each other for even a few weeks. Weeks are months are years.

Ryeowook's still laughing when he turns to Henry.

“Henry!”

Henry set down his drink and he's wrapped around Ryeowook before he could really think to stop himself, his only compelling thought, I gotta hug him.

He missed this, the way Ryeowook's arms encircle him back as if it were how things were supposed to be. He smelled like he remembered and his heart fluttered when he felt the laughter come from him at the way Henry crashed into him.

“Ah! Ah!” Donghae clears his throat - a smile in his tone, and Henry pulled back.

A few seconds had passed.

“And I don't get a hug?” Donghae challenges him, arms spread wide because he always gets what he wants and Henry doesn't really mind, in all honesty. Donghae gets what he wants and no one minds.

“Of course not,” Henry says, a joke full of sarcasm that Donghae had grown used to, and he's already being pulled into the sort of embrace that he was so familiar with.

Ryeowook coughs, then tugs them out of the doorway. “Let‘s sit down before the rest of the members get here, yeah?”

They were back to the seats, all three sharing the sectional set aside for them for when recording was more important than going home to sleep. The couch felt like a bed, like the next few weeks crammed full of work and no sleep. It wasn't routine as much as it was familiar - the smell of the couch, the polish on the wood floors that always smelled distinctly like lemon and shiny, the way the sun set behind them that turned short shadows into long stretches.

It was familiar and calm, the way they talked - Donghae playing with Henry’s hair - “it's so fluffy, oh my god” - and Ryeowook's soft cascading laughter at the sight.

“How have you been?” Henry asked, Ryeowook to the left of him and Donghae on the right. “I haven't heard from you in forever.”

It was directed to Ryeowook, privately, but open for the both of them to answer.

Ryeowook looked up from his phone, from the Twitter screen, in the middle of typing out something before he turned the screen off. He looked up at Henry, considering his words - they came out concise, but something else was under them that Henry couldn't quite place. “I've been... good. It's been a long few weeks.”

And, similarly, “I've been anxious about the comeback.” Donghae said, leaning his head to rest against Henry's shoulder.

They all laughed - a weary laugh that echoed exactly that same fear, the anxiety all three of them were feeling. It was in the air, a contagion that couldn't help but infect them.

Henry gave Donghae a pat on the cheek - a playful tap, earning him a snort. “Don't be - it'll go perfectly, just wait and see.”

“Ah, you say that now, but then when we're in Thailand and lost because we can't communicate, I'm sure you'll think something different.”

“Ah, Donghae, don't be that way.” Ryeowook added, setting his phone under his thigh. His foot was tapping, an anxiety that Henry caught the moment he thought about Sungmin.

“Don't worry, Hae. Ryeowook will study Thai like crazy and he'll guide us everywhere. Problem solved.”

“Oh shut up, you know more Thai than me.”

Henry snorted. He wasn't wrong.

-

Ryeowook spent most of his time over the next hour at Henry’s side, spent most of his words on telling him just how much he missed out on and what he was supposed to expect with the latest wave of drama to come from the members - with one large exception, the one that Henry was waiting to hear about.

Ryeowook tapped the toes of his shoes to that of Henry's, the idle sort of attention that Henry remembered missing so much.

“Sukira is going well,” Ryeowook says, a tangent of a tangent that started somewhere in a question about upcoming interviews. His voice is soft, fitting for the room and its endless silence. (Henry failed to add that he listened at least once a week and that he already knew that the show was doing well. That he was thriving and that radio was maybe the only way he was really able to keep up with Ryeowook in the past few months but no, that's not something to say so casually.)

Still, there's no way to come out and say I miss you so much that my heart aches to hear your voice. Henry settles on: “Really? That's so good to hear! You're the best DJ out there.”

“No,” Ryeowook whines back, modesty tinting his cheeks red. “Leeteuk-hyung did it for so long, I don’t know if I could ever do it as comfortably as he does.”

They both agreed, but Henry already knew his answer was the truer of the two. He keeps that to himself, another set of words that he hasn't said to Ryeowook.

Ryeowook is writing, he says, eyes going down to stare at his feet like he wasn't sure of himself, or of the lyrics he had yet to share with anyone. Henry couldn't help the surprised smile from crossing his face. Ryeowook is writing lyrics, and he promises he'll show Henry later. He says that if he’s lucky, he’s writing things that he'd turn into songs for the world to hear.

Henry promises to share the beginnings to his songs, too. There’re a lot, and some are good (according to Henry, and Ryeowook laughed but didn't correct him).

He finally draws to a stop, the moments of his own life and his own well being suddenly fading when there’s less to talk about.

Henry feels a little guilty that, with the weight of uncertainty hanging over them, that he couldn't stop himself from smiling. At least, whenever he takes a glance at Ryeowook and sees the way he contemplates how his hands fold in front of him, he couldn't help but smile.

He listens, knowing somehow that the next words were going to be about Sungmin.

“Just. Be nice to him. You're obviously nice, I just mean don't bring up his breakup yet. It's too fresh.”

“Oh... Oh yeah, yeah - no problem.” Henry nods, an uncertain breath occupying his lungs before he pats Ryeowook's leg. His hand stays there, thumb twitching to rub circles where it lay, but- no. That would be too much.

Henry's eyes are trained on the TV's automated subtitles, hand retreating after he realized it lingered too long on the threads of his blue jeans.

The subtitles struggle to keep up with the latest highlight on the local football team's score, a silent match flashing on its polished screen. Henry stiffly watches the football zig-zag across the screen, between feet and flashes of grass.

Donghae hums, a note of irritation caught in the back of his voice. “Hyukjae didn't even tell me. Can you believe that.”

“Well, it happened last night,” Ryeowook says, tone bordering on impatience.

“Still... He didn't say there were problems. He didn't say he was gonna... you know, call it off.”

“Oh, well... Sungmin told me,” Ryeowook starts in, then looks to the door. Like he was cursed to be overheard by either member of the former couple. “He told me that he called it. He wasn't easy to understand when Leeteuk-hyung brought him home, but that's my understanding.”

Henry remains quiet, thoughts stuck in too many places. He still didn't know what it meant, the way it might affect everyone as the comeback comes together over the months. The way it affects him.

He'd have to wait to see Sungmin, he guesses.

That thought went out out of his head when Ryeowook patted his leg - idly or intentionally mimicking his earlier motion, Henry doesn’t care. His hand stays there, and Henry rests his own on top, if only to keep him there for as long as he could.

-

They're in the middle of talking about the lyrics, just the two of them in the halls, as they wander idly. There’s no sense of adventure, the building is a second home and they know it like they know their own bedrooms. But the company, that is new, and the sound of their voices carrying in the corridors is satisfying and comforting.

Henry starts feeling unaccountably shaky about his Mandarin, maybe a side effect of fatigue, but it only lasts a second past him asking what style Ryeowook thinks the album will be. That’s because Ryeowook answers in his usual adorable halting way, each tone and noun clearly a struggle that he perseveres through. The word order’s a bit off; the other man must be rusty. A study session together couldn’t hurt, if they could squeeze one in somewhere.

And then reality comes back to Henry.

They're doing this. Ryeowook is here and there's no longer miles between them, land that feels like an ocean with no shore.

“I'm so happy to see you,” Henry says, standing behind Ryeowook and laying his head on his shoulder. It's sudden, or so it appears - but it's been on the tip of his tongue and all Henry's wanted to do is repeat it and make sure he knows just how deeply he means it.

Ryeowook waves his hand behind him, grabbing Henry's. He tilts his head a bit, at an angle, to nudge Henry's. “Me too.”

A bright light goes off further down the hall.

“Ah, .”

Donghae snaps a picture of them with his phone, and he probably didn't mean to leave the flash on.

Ryeowook and Henry look down the hall to the edge of the intersecting hallway. Donghae's peeking out from behind, looking at them with a half-amused, half-pissed expression.

The two of them laugh, and pose for another picture that is definitely not a candid.

-

They're so cold that this time, when they huddle together, it's mostly for warmth. That and maybe it's more comfortable this way, Henry thinks when he realizes how much of his time with Ryeowook is spent like this.

Ryeowook's head was rested against Henry's back, arms wrapped around his waist to rest in his front pockets. It's somewhere around seven AM and Henry is aimlessly staring at the vending machine's reflection, the way Ryeowook's wrists sink into his hoodie pockets.

Ryeowook was probably trying to sleep, but their reflection was the only part Henry was paying attention to. It's only day one, but one day awake is twelve hours too many and this may be the first time he's been able to get a snack. Discussion, talking, writing and tweaking - how can so much have to be done in so little time?

The sixth floor was as private as their lives might get, for however long they're working. It's sparse, only techs and their managers to keep them company. Donghae was meeting with the choreographer, and with that, Henry felt a little more secure - there wasn't a fear of accidental publicity, no looking for a secret phone to be raised to snap a discreet picture.

Maybe it was a bit more familiar, the way they were locked together - back to chest with not an inch of cold air between them.

It's been a while now. Henry's not watching the clock but if he were to guess it was three minutes, and-

He forgot about how his heart would stutter, the way their moment turns his thoughts into mush.

It feels a lot like a moment because they've been there for a few minutes (who's keeping track?) and they're saying nothing at all. Henry tilts his head back and is about to open his mouth to say... something.

He won't ever find out what that was.

“Ahh, quit it,” Ryeowook whines, and Henry wonders what he did to annoy him before he realizes who else is there.

Zhou Mi is towering above both of them suddenly, arms loosely resting across both their shoulders in a light hug. Henry doesn't mind it, but he can feel the insecurity radiating off Ryeowook, a tension that came and went quickly as Mi disentangled himself from them.

Neither of them heard him coming, the hallway open to so much busy foot traffic in the morning that maybe they tuned out the outside world altogether. Maybe, Henry thinks, it was later than he thought, or maybe he was sleepwalking his way around the floor so late in the day that even he could miss Mi's approach.

“That's no way to greet me,” Mi laughs, squeezing them both before stepping back.

“Ah, no it isn't, that's so rude, Ryeowook,” Henry teases to join in on the fun.

Henry doesn't want to, but they're untangled by now and he could get a look at Mi, dressed sharp and stylishly in black and white. His smile was goofy and it was sure to raise one from Henry, which it inevitably did because he went in to hug him and-

Mi lifted him off his feet in a hug that kicked the breath out of him.

This was what home felt like - Super Junior M, constantly tired and working and being with the people he loves - who occasionally treat you like a puppy to lift whenever they might wish. Henry laughs, at himself for being sappy as much as the way Mi twirled him and then set him down.

“Ryeowook, come here,” Mi says, laughing alongside the melody of Henry's giddy laughter as he hones in on Ryeowook.

“Oh, no, not this!” Ryeowook backs away, a flash of fierceness in his eyes that inspires more tired giggling from Henry as Mi brings the protesting man into an airborne hug.

They’re wrapped in each other, the next moment, and Henry’s home again for what feels like the tenth time that day, a long path finally leading to this feeling of... content?

He’s not sure.

Ryeowook holds onto him particularly tightly, and Henry’s sure that the way his hands wandered was simply carelessness and lack of sleep.

Henry swallows hard and they all make their way back to the boardroom. But only after he finally got a snack out of the vending machine, even if it had Ryeowook exasperatedly tugging on his sleeve to get him back on track and going down the right hallway.

-

Mi kept tapping his foot, a sound that Henry’s sure Mi doesn’t even know that he’s making. His anxieties are plan to see, and when he checks his phone, Henry’s positive that he’s waiting to hear from Sungmin.

Henry turns his eyes down and inclines himself back into the sofa - arms crossed, he thinks maybe he can fall asleep. Or thought, anyway, until Ryeowook tapped his shoulder, and Henry looks up with a dazed expression that only comes from twenty-three hours of being awake.

“You okay?” Ryeowook asks. His hand lingers, a warmth spreading through Henry's shoulder that he only wants more of.

Henry nods and Ryeowook is sliding up beside him.

Tap tap tap.

“Annoying, isn't it,” Ryeowook laughs, a whisper that isn't quite a whisper. Mi doesn't stir, only continues tapping the rubber end of his shoe, a sound so fresh that Henry’s positive that the shoes are brand new.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Henry agrees, voice raising slightly. Ryeowook's smiling and Henry catches it out of the corner of his eye.

“I wonder, could he be any louder,” Ryeowook continues - talking not so much to Henry at this point as he is to the room. Donghae’s long since dozed off in his chair with a loose grip on his phone; Henry pokes it a bit farther back into place as he tries not to outright snicker.

Mi looks at his own phone, then sighs.

“I think we should, I don't know, kick him out of the room or something,” Henry says, waving his hand around because the whole thing was ridiculous. Mi looks up from his shoes and catches Henry's eye.

“Wait, what?”

“Stop tapping your feet - it's annoying,” Ryeowook says, and it would have sounded harsh if not for the way he smiled and laughed.

Mi looks struck with recognition when it dawns on him. “Oh, sorry!” He bows his head, returning from it with a crooked smile. He readjusts and laughs loudly.

“I'm just hoping to hear from Sungmin,” Mi confesses, eyes glossed over as he stares at the only door in the room.

“Hmm, yeah,” Ryeowook says, resigned. “He'll be here soon.”

“Do you think, you know... it's for good?”

Ryeowook nods while Henry keeps quiet.

“There wasn't a lot of investment in that relationship on one end,” Ryeowook eventually adds, an afterthought that Henry’s sure was sitting in his mind for a while. “It was more, mm, one-sided.”

“Well, yeah,” Mi says, sadness filling his voice. “Obviously.”

Henry nods again. He saw it as clear as they did, all the times he spent with the two beforehand. He saw that glint in Sungmin's eye that wasn't in Hyukjae's, the way Sungmin took hold of Hyukjae's hand first, always first, and looked at him like a flower looks at the sun.

“I think that it's about time they broke up,” Mi says matter-of-factly, opening his phone and furrowing his brows at what Henry assumes is a screen free of text. “Sungmin even said as much, a while back.”

“Hmm, yeah?” Ryeowook chimes in, making those unintentionally adorable faces like so many other times that he’s been waiting for a while. Heart lurching at how uniquely him it is, Henry has to look away.

Whatever it was that Mi’s face held a moment before, Henry saw it washed away in increasingly deepening concern. Unlock soft click, lock soft click, over and over his fingers moved in that same pattern, his eyes never budging from the faint, even glow. Mi takes a deep breath that’s not quite a sigh and says, “Yeah. So if it's for good, then that's good.”

“Sungmin wasn't happy,” Ryeowook says, and it sounds like agreement.

Donghae snuffles in his sleep, and the conversation slips away from them quickly. Henry's thoughts are still stuck on it, though, and he can’t shake that feeling in his chest. He looks at Ryeowook, at the devastating details of his profile, and the bitter sinking feeling in his lungs only deepens, a chasm opening up in him.

No, it really wouldn't work, would it?

-

Henry knows the moment Sungmin gets in.

“Yeah, I’m excited, you’re gonna have to take me to this place,” Henry mumbles, fiddling with his zipper while he continues his train of thought - something about a new store, a new place Mi found, in Beijing - and he waits a second.

There’s a wall of silence, then the sound of muffled feet, and when he looks up, Mi is looking over to the door. He gives Henry a look - half apology, the other half something more subtle. Somehow, Henry understands.

Mi is up quicker than Henry and by the time he’s situated, Mi already already has Sungmin in his orbit - and he sees Sungmin, takes in the dark glasses that so clearly say I’m hungover and his sweats and hoodie, and his heart softens. He wants to say something, but it doesn’t feel right. Mi has his hand on Sungmin’s shoulder, manicured nails glinting in the light of the room that look more of a beacon to anyone that would read “stay away”.

At first, Henry wanted to laugh; just how dramatic could Mi get? Swooping in the second Sungmin’s shoes tapped the laminate, Henry sees the mother hen in him come alive before his very eyes. He would have laughed, if Hyukjae and Kyuhyun weren’t there and Sungmin and Hyukjae hadn’t just broken up.

He doesn’t laugh, but he smiles, about to greet Sungmin when-

“Ah, Henry,” Kyuhyun says with a floppy wave of his hand, voice grainy like he just woke from sleep.

“Kyuuu!” Henry replies, drawing Kyuhyun in with inviting arms, a hug that’s genuine and short. Kyuhyun more leans forward than hugs back, but he does pat Henry’s back, so that really is his best effort here. Even half awake, the expression he wears is more exasperated, which doesn’t make sense until he subtly tips his head back towards where Hyukjae was making his way inside.

Then Kyuhyun screws up the corner of his mouth, and looks more tired than ever. “You know, right?”

Henry only nods.

“Okay.” With a glance at the others, Kyuhyun lets out a huff that was almost a laugh, and rolled his eyes. “Go on, go back,” he says more quietly. “I know you want to.”

Meeting his gaze no longer felt possible, but even looking down and away, Henry didn’t disagree. So he takes a step back to match Kyuhyun’s.

Henry’s friendship with Hyukjae is a lighthearted, teasing one, friendly working together but not prepared for... something as momentous as this. And then there’s Sungmin, who his heart positively aches for; who’s doing what he must because there’s no button to press that can make the one he loves give him the same in return, who knows there are no magic words, sees from their entire history with a clarity that only such deep love can bring that each will never be what the other is seeking.

Sungmin, who broke his own heart by letting go rather than draw this out even a day longer.

Donghae blinks awake then, disoriented as always. He seems to right himself when he sees Kyuhyun and Hyukjae pressed together on what could charitably be called the far side of the small room, ambling over to take the spot at Hyukjae’s other side, silent conversation passing between him and Kyuhyun across the empty space that Hyukjae’s hunched-over form left open.

The two of them curl their arms around Hyukjae’s shoulder and waist, a mirror to Mi and Ryeowook huddled protectively around Sungmin. Without a second thought, Henry returns to his seat next to Ryeowook, his arm bumping into Ryeowook’s knees along the way to reaching Sungmin’s hand. He lets Sungmin keep a loose grasp on his fingers.

The tension itself takes up a seat in the gap between the two spheres: invisible, palpable, unable to be chased away. If the divided room could be said to be taking sides, he knows where he stands.