Being in Yesung’s arms feels like home, Hyukjae thinks. It’s like the familiar kind of warmth and comfort that comes when you relax after a long day of work, like having your favourite food after a particularly trying day.

It’s a feeling you could get lost in, and Hyukjae wonders what it would be like to feel like that again, so safe, so cherished, so completely at peace .

He wonders, because he’s been deprived of it for far too long.

He settles for the contentment that comes from seeing Yesung’s eyes crinkle as he talks about his day, about the performance in Busan, how the frontline workers had cheered them on ecstatically, making up for the near-empty arena.

“It felt so empty without you, you know,” Yesung tells him. “Even though we chose songs that we could cover with a bit more ease, they all felt so lifeless.” 

Hyukjae snorts in disbelief. “Yeah right. I’m sure you were relieved to not have me hueh -ing at you every five minutes.”

Yesung chuckles, a deep, low sound that reverberates through the laptop speakers.

“I missed the heuhs too, if I’m being honest. And the fact that I had no one’s hand to hold during Miracle.”

Hyukjae smiles at this, but it is bittersweet, tainted with the knowledge of how he should’ve been there, with his friends, dancing and singing and having fun, instead of being stuck in his house, the same old monotony day after day. It had been agonisingly torturous, having to watch the group perform through a screen, but he had swelled with pride when he saw how well they managed to make up for the absence of two members with their enthusiasm, enraptured with how Yesung, his Yesung, had pranced gleefully around the stage, looking the epitome of happiness and joy.

“I think the cameraman had the hots for you,” he jokes, trying to push away the misery swirling in his mind as he recalls how often the focus had been on Yesung during the broadcast. Not that he was complaining at all, his hyung looked absolutely gorgeous, dark hair and eyeliner contrasting starkly with the contacts he had chosen, the brown suit enhancing his enticing figure, making Hyukjae wish he was there all the more. “It was like I was watching a fancam of you.”

“Looks like I’ve come a long way from our debut then,” he says, and chuckles again. “But in any case, what have you been doing all day?”

Missing you , is the first answer that comes to Hyukjae’s mind. Wishing I could be in your arms right now. 

But he doesn’t voice it.

There’s no point in wishful thinking bringing the mood down.

“Ah, the usual, you know,” he says instead. “Listening to music, watching movies. Trying and failing to cook.”

··•··

It’s well past midnight when they finally decide to call it a night; Yesung has schedules later in the morning and Hyukjae has a whole day of, well, nothing really, so he settles on watching yet another movie.

His phone buzzes towards the end of it, a notification from Yesung’s sns popping up.

“It was boring because you couldn’t be with us today,” reads the caption, out there for the world to see, accompanied by photos of the both of them, reminding him of the times they spent together during various shoots and performances, making him smile wider than he has all week.

The phone screen illuminates the blush on Hyukjae’s cheeks perfectly, and he is somewhat glad that there is no one around to see the stupid grin plastered on his face. He is not about to ask what his insomniac hyung was still up to at 3 am in the morning, but the fact that he was thinking about him this late, when Hyukjae’s heart yearns to see him, was some form of solace.

“You’re so clingy hyung,” he texts him, but the words bear only humour, and Yesung knows that.

“Only for you, dongba~” comes Yesung’s reply, making Hyukjae’s cheeks redden even more.

··•··

Hyukjae has been trying to make the most of his isolation. He tries to come up with catchy song lyrics, beats his video game records, ticks off movies from the seemingly endless list that Yesung keeps updating every time he watches something particularly interesting. But the ten days have all seemed to blur into one long endless stretch, and it gets increasingly harder to stay productive when he’s so crushingly lonely.

Yesung calls him whenever his busy schedule allows him to. Which is not as often as Hyukjae would like, but it’s the highlight of his day when the moment comes. Even though they’re far apart, there is never a lull in their conversations, nor an awkward silence. They fit together perfectly, despite all odds and all their differences.

But it also aches, seeing his hyung through a screen without being able to go to him, to poke and make fun of him, to shyly cling on to his hand whenever they have a moment alone. He misses hearing Yesung’s voice without the ordeal of technical distortions and glitches. He uses his laptop most days, hoping that the