A/N: This is the last chapter so get ready. I don’t know if this is a good one but it’s definitely something. Also, when I finished writing this story Jinhoon hadn’t enlisted yet, so I had no idea they weren’t going to the regular military and that’s why Seunghoon doesn’t live in the apartment here; agh, this is such a mess.

- - -

ksy - august 2020

From: Minho
 
I’m going to Bobby’s.
You know, since Hanbin’s back.
Want to come with me?
 
To: Minho
 
I can’t. I’m a bit busy right now.
I’ll see him tomorrow or something.
 
He didn’t wait for Minho to answer again, he just turned around and threw his phone on his bed, leaning back against his chair and staring at his laptop for a few seconds, hoping to get that sinking feeling out of his mind.
 
Truth was, that he didn’t like that whole situation at all; he was happy to have him back, that he could come back to the place where he belonged and always had, but he didn’t know what his return could imply for his group, for all the people around him and, most importantly, for Hanbin himself. Things were probably going to be tough from that moment on, everyone would be watching him carefully, ready for him to take a step wrong to jump on him once again and devour his whole persona. He’d done nothing wrong, but that single almost-mistake had damaged his career and there was nothing that could fix it, not even time.
 
And, then, to be completely honest, he didn’t know how to handle the thought of seeing him again; he knew it was going to be awkward for them, and meeting him again after all this time in front of all s didn’t really sound like a good idea. Especially since he didn’t even know if the younger—if he still felt the same way about him. He knew it was stupidly selfish to wonder about something like that, when it was obvious that he hadn’t even had time to think about him, basically living in hell.  
 
He threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling, almost blinded by its whiteness. He’d told himself that he was never going to fall in love ever again for so long, he’d said he despised it like nothing else, and, there he was, still longing for a guy who’d been gone for over a year; someone who’d probably forgotten about him.
 
Maybe, after all those times he’d pushed him away, he deserved that hopeless pining, and he had to accept that it would take him a while longer to get over him. He should’ve been happy thinking that the other had finally let him go, because he couldn’t hurt him, anymore, but it made him suffer immeasurably, he didn’t know what to do to stop feeling that way.
 
He didn’t want his own heart to break once again, so he was trying to keep it together with everything that he had, even a glint of useless hope in his soul. He just had to tell himself that, at least, Hanbin was going to be happy and that he could be happy as well, watching him from a distance and remembering all that he once had with him.
 
A sob escaped him lips, and he covered his eyes with his arm, trying to pretend that he wasn’t crying, that he wasn’t in terrible pain, that he wasn’t a disgusting, egoistical person, that he was only thinking about the work he had to do, that he didn’t need to be comforted, that he was okay. He just wished it was true.

- - -

That night, he couldn’t sleep. At all. He felt like an idiot, knowing that he was acting childishly, that he was a coward. But it wasn’t something he could help. And, maybe, it made sense for him to feel that way, considering everything that had happened in his past and considering that—the moment he’d just given himself the chance to love again, everything had slipped past his fingers like sand and had shattered on the floor.
 
It was no one’s fault, really, but it’d still scarred him. He hated it, he hated himself. He knew Hanbin hadn’t been able to do anything, and leaving hadn’t been his choice at all. But leaving him, had. He knew, it’d made sense. The younger must have been so lost, confused, unsure about what to do, and that was why he’d told him not to look for him, but it’d been hard. It’d been hard to try and erase him completely from his mind.
 
In the end, though, not seeing him every day, not seeing him at all, had helped him; it hadn’t helped him forget, but it’d helped him not think about him. He didn’t think that had been a very good coping mechanism. He’d only pushed his memory away, but not him. He’d tried not to think about him at all, to pretend he’d never existed to begin with, and maybe that was why his feelings hadn’t faded away. He’d tried, he’d really tried finding someone else, but the problem was that no one was him.
 
Maybe, he’d hung on the hope that he would come back, one day and he hadn’t been able to let go of him. And yet, he’d read somewhere that to love was to let go, but it seemed like he always had a hard time with that.
 
He should’ve done something, he knew. At least text him, tell him he was glad he was back, just that, nothing more. He couldn’t delude himself that Hanbin still felt the way he’d once felt about him, after everything that had happened, and perhaps he didn’t even want him to. He didn’t know if his heart would be willing to try again, with him. It was stupid, but he couldn’t help but feel that way.
 
There were so many things he hadn’t thought about, so many possibilities, so many things that could’ve happened while they were divided, and—he didn’t know. Hanbin could’ve found someone else who would love him like he deserved. Maybe he hoped he had. Because he needed someone who could protect him, and be there for him when he needed, and he wasn’t, and would probably never be. But he would’ve liked answers, perhaps. Just to get some sense of closure.
 
Those were the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone, as he lied awake staring at the shadows moving on the ceiling, for the entire night. And those same thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone the day after, either. He didn’t feel like doing anything, he felt empty, heavy, useless, worthless. He didn’t answer any call, didn’t even glance at his phone, without caring about who could be looking for him. He didn’t care about anything.
 
Without even realising it, maybe he hoped the younger would go look for him, understanding that he was the same idiot he’d know years before, that he was still scared, and didn’t want to bother him if everything there ever was between them was gone and had remained as just a distant memory. He just wasn’t good enough, he guessed, not good enough to be remembered. And yet he knew that Hanbin had had bigger problems and probably hadn’t even had time or energy to think about him, and he understood.
 
That was why he couldn’t help feeling selfish. Because he was, he guessed. It was just—it was agony, to not know what was going on. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him around, without knowing what could’ve been, without knowing what he thought about him, without knowing if he still cared. He wished he didn’t feel that way, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself forever and had to be straightforward, or he could never keep going.
 
He hadn’t even bothered to get properly dressed or to adjust his hair all day, and was now lying on the couch, feeling pathetic and miserable; the apartment felt cold and empty, and he could swear he felt as alone as he used to feel when he was younger, and it was a feeling he’d always detested.
 
He wished he could just walk up to Seunghoon’s room and talk to him about pretty much anything, knowing that he was either going to say something very deep, something very stupid, or something very deep disguised as something very stupid. He just missed him. He wished he could walk into his room and just see him there, but he knew that he had to live with the fact that he wasn’t. And that damn fridge wouldn’t stop being so loud, sometimes he really felt the impelling need to unplug it and let all his food expire quicker, just so he didn’t have to feel so alone.
 
He didn’t like that thought, but maybe he didn’t even want Hanbin to find him, he would’ve been fine with anyone, he wished he could have anyone that would help him stop feeling so forlorn; he knew that he had Minho, and that the two of them had helped each other a lot those past months, but sometimes he yearned for a distraction from what was happening to his group and his hyung couldn’t help him with that; and maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t forgotten how kissing Hanbin made all his thoughts disappear.
 
After a few hours, he slipped into an exhaustion-induced slumber, dreamless and agitated, with that feeling of loneliness unwilling to leave him alone; he didn’t know what was wrong with him and why he couldn’t stop overthinking about too many things. If nothing in his heart had broken, he was starting to fear that something in his mind had and that reality was slowly drifting away from him, out of his reach. The world wasn’t supposed to be that way, it seemed like time had stopped, enveloping everything in a sickening silence.
 
He woke up in complete darkness, in the dead of night, feeling like something was wrong, although he couldn’t put his finger on it. He didn’t know what had made him startle awake, until he noticed the brightness of his phone shattering the shadows, and he frantically picked it up, feeling the impelling need to do so, as if he knew he was going to regret it all his life if he didn’t. His heart pounding in his chest so fast he was afraid it would escape, he read the message that had lit his phone up.
 
From: wind
 
Can we talk?
I’m outside.
 
For a second, he felt like he’d stopped breathing, as the meaning of those words slowly sank in. He didn’t even think about it, he didn’t ask himself anything, nothing. It didn’t matter; all of his fears didn’t matter, as his mind started going miles per hours.
 
He walked towards the door, as quickly as he could, almost sure his heart had flown away and was hovering somewhere over his head, because he couldn’t feel it. He almost couldn’t feel anything, he was shaking, too shocked to do anything. He’d thought he wouldn’t come, he thought he’d completely forgotten about him and everything they’d been, but he hadn’t. It didn’t even matter if he loved him or he didn’t. He just wanted to see him again, even for just the last time.
 
He’d missed him so much he’d thought he was going crazy, and he thought that as long as he was there, he didn’t even want him to love him. If he was okay, if he was happy, if he was close to him, he didn’t want him to love him. To be honest, his mind was still having troubles fully understanding the message, because it felt too incredible to be true. He’d ignored him for all the previous night and the entire day after, it seemed like a fever dream. Maybe he was just sick, and nothing was happening for real, he wasn’t there, he was somewhere else, where he belonged. And he didn’t belong with him, he never had.
 
Their story had been deemed to end in disaster since the start and he was sure they’d already hit the bottom. They just had never completely let go of each other, maybe. At least, he’d never been able to let go of the younger, but he couldn’t say the same for him. He didn’t even know what had happened to him while they were away, what he’d had to go through, and maybe he had managed to forget him. He’d found someone else, and was coming to tell him that everything that had never been between them was over, and he needed to move on. He didn’t want to move on. But he would respect his decision, no matter what it was. No matter how much it could shatter his heart.
 
He swung the door open, still feeling slightly numb, unsure if he was daydreaming; then, all senses came back to him. There was nothing he could hear but the furious pulse of the blood in his veins, all of sudden, and it almost made him collapse on the spot, as he looked at that face he’d thought he would never see again, feeling like time had stopped. He felt like crying and screaming at the same time, because after that year and a half on uncertainties, he was back in front of him. It felt surreal.
 
And he slowly started to feel extremely self-conscious, knowing that he wasn’t the best sight you could have, clad in his boxers and a t-shirt that was too large for him (and that totally, absolutely wasn’t, Seunghoon’s), his face bare and his messy hair pulled back by a headband, looking miserable and pathetic.
 
“Hanbin-ah?” he called out, as if it could’ve been anyone else; but he still scanned his face in the low light, looking at every detail, holding his breath, afraid he would disappear if he exhaled. It was indubitably him, was too real to be a product of his mind, with his dark and slightly curly hair, his tired and melancholy eyes, his lips, his nose, his eyebrows, his forehead, his jaw, everything. He was there and he was real, overwhelmingly beautiful as he’d always been.
 
He felt the urge to pull him into a hug, but he didn’t know where they stood anymore, and he didn’t want to make the younger uncomfortable. Even though he clearly already was, as he had been almost imperceptibly swaying from side to side since the he’d opened the door.
 
It felt strange to be in such an awkward situation with him, when he’d once been the person he told everything to, even what he didn’t want to reveal, even what made him feel like he wasn’t worth anything. He supposed that was just what distance did to people, and he didn’t know how much things had changed, he didn’t know how much that year apart had changed both of them and their feelings. He hated knowing that the strength of his feelings hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
 
Realising he still hadn’t moved or done anything, he stepped aside and wordlessly told the younger to come in. The latter walked in, and stopped for a second, looking around as if he could perceive the change that there had been while he was away, as if he could feel the weight of that emptiness as much as he did, as if the silence had immediately gotten into his bones.
 
Seungyoon sighed, afraid and sure the other could tell by the instability of his breathing and by how he kept sending glances his way, that he was afraid he was about to disappear the moment he turned around. He didn’t, he followed him as he walked into the living room and sat down onto the couch, fighting the impulse to grab a pillow and cover his own scrawny-looking legs; he didn’t know why he felt so strangely self-conscious and unattractive. Maybe it had everything to do with that fact that he did look like a mess.
 
The younger didn’t seem to notice and hesitantly sat beside him, still far enough to be out of reach. After a few more seconds of absolute stillness, both seemed to decide that they had enough, at the same time.
 
“I’m glad you’re back—”
 
“I’m sorry for coming here—” realising they’d talked over each other, they laughed embarrassedly, somehow still feeling like the characters from some drama that couldn’t communicate properly to save their lives. Seungyoon half-nodded into the other’s direction, signing that he could go on saying what he’d been trying to say. He looked at him for a moment and cleared his voice, avoiding his eyes in a painfully obvious manner.
 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you in the middle of the night. I just—wanted to see you, if that makes sense,” it did make sense. It made a lot of sense, and he felt the same. After all those months missing him like crazy, he still couldn’t believe he was there in front of him. And he was glad he wasn’t the only one who had been wanting to see the other.
 
Sure, he still didn’t know what he was going to tell him, he didn’t know if he’d wanted to see him because he’d missed him, or simply because he wanted to tell him that everything that there had been between them was over and they needed to actually forget each other. The problem was that he didn’t think he wanted to do it. He didn’t even know if he could. He’d tried, he’d tried so many times before to get him out of his head, but, in one way or another, he was always there, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. He didn’t know if he would ever forget him, no matter how many years passed. Someone like him would definitely be difficult to forget.
 
Hanbin was still fidgeting with his fingers, searching for the right words to say, still not looking at him; after a while, he let out a throaty chuckle. “I planned this conversation probably one thousand times and yet—I think there were too many things I hadn’t thought about,” he kept being more afraid every second that passed, but he didn’t want to admit it, considering how many times he’d pushed him away two years before and he shouldn’t have been surprised if he’d forgotten him in that considerable amount of time.
 
He was trying to understand what those things were, but he couldn’t, because he didn’t have any idea of what he’d tried to plan, of what he was meaning to tell him. Maybe he wanted to tell him everything was over, but he’d never once considered he was still in love with him.
 
He almost felt sick, as an abrupt sense of dread took a hold of him. That was it. He didn’t love him anymore, but he’d understood from the way he’d been behaving since he’d found him at his door that he still had feelings for him, and he hadn’t thought that was something that could’ve happened.
 
Perhaps, he’d thought that he’d never been as serious about his feelings as he’d been from the beginning, and he thought that, if he’d been able to forget about him, it would be the same for him. But it wasn’t like that, because he was a stubborn idiot and he had been holding onto something gone for more than a year, because he couldn’t accept the way they’d been forced apart, he couldn’t believe that had happened for real. Maybe, he’d hoped they would find their way back to each other, one day. Well, it’d happened, but the problem was that too many things had changed. They had changed. And things would never go back to what they used to be. He had to live with it.
 
“It’s okay,” he blurted out, before he could stop himself, following his train of thoughts; his voice suddenly sounded rough and on the verge of cracking. He suddenly felt like he needed to help the younger out in such an embarrassing situation, because he was sure he already knew what he was trying to say.
 
No matter how much it was killing him inside, if that was how things were, he had to take it. “You’re not in love with me, anymore,” he said it in a bitter tone, and mentally slapped himself, biting his bottom lip imperceptibly, even though he didn’t know why. He just felt stupid, after saying that. He barely had time to think about it, anyway, as Hanbin looked up at him, finally, looking shocked, his eyes larger than a full moon.
 
“What?!” slightly taken aback by that sudden exclamation, Seungyoon kept quiet and blinked back at him, waiting for an explanation, a real one, because he really wasn’t understanding the whole situation. Had he misinterpreted everything? He couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he wouldn’t have known why else he would’ve reacted that way.
 
He only then noticed that the younger seemed to be leaning in his direction, while still keeping a distance, almost as if he was ready to grab him if he tried running away without listening to what he had to say, avoiding things yet once again. He had no intention to run away, now. “Of course I’m in love with you! I thought you didn’t like me anymore, that’s why I was so embarrassed,” well, at that point, he didn’t know who was more embarrassed between the two of them.
 
They were just too stupid and couldn’t communicate to save their lives, that was why all that mess had happened. Seungyoon couldn’t help the smile that broke on his face, realising that he’d only been overthinking and the younger hadn’t forgotten him at all and maybe hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him either, during their time apart. The reason he’d gone there wasn’t really to tell him that he didn’t feel anything for him anymore, but to get some sense of closure, he supposed.
 
“I told you to stop making assumptions about me.”
 
“And I told you I wouldn’t even try to forget you,” he remembered that he’d said it, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t, but that was before everything that had happened the previous year and, since he’d told him not to miss him and to forget him, he had figured that he would try to do the same.
 
And he knew that people changed and feelings easily faded, that was the reason why he’d thought that what they had couldn’t survive their distance, but, perhaps, it’d just made it stronger.
 
Looking at each other in that moment, they started laughing once again, but it wasn’t awkward anymore, they were genuinely giggling about their own stupidity and their overthinking minds. They should’ve made things clear when they were still standing at the door, instead of worrying about nothing. Because they’d both refused to move on, maybe because they’d never had a chance to be together in a proper manner, without lies or fear in their way.
 
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, suddenly unable to take his eyes off the younger, trying to really convince himself that he was there, that he could reach his hand out and touch his face, that he wasn’t a dream and that he wasn’t going to disappear.
 
Instead of answering verbally, Hanbin slowly moved closer to him and looped his arms around his shoulders, drawing him into a tight hug, as if he’d been dying to hold him since the moment he’d seen him again, and he reciprocated the sentiment.
 
He put his own arms around his waist, pulling him even closer, as close as it was possible, finally exhaling, when he hadn’t even realised he was holding his breath. He buried his face into his neck, breathing him in, trying to regain all the memories he’d somehow lost along the way. How it felt to hold him, how it felt to sense his warmth.
 
When they pulled apart, eyelids half-closed, closer than they should’ve allowed themselves to be, they remained in perfect silence for a moment, studying each other’s faces, looking at every detail and trying to understand if they’d remembered everything correctly.
 
The younger’s fingers gently landed on his cheek, tracing the line of his cheekbone, lowering them until they brushed against his lips. Seungyoon was sure his heart was really going to explode at any moment, beating faster than it could, than it should’ve ever had; that it was going to become a supernova and devour them both right then and there. Hanbin finally found his voice once again, and there was so much longing and pain in his words he almost missed their meaning, realising he’d been staring at his lips for longer than it was sane to do.
 
“You know we can’t—we can’t be together. I’m scared it wouldn’t be any good for either of us. I feel like it would be the mistake everyone is waiting for me to make,” Seungyoon hated that he had to feel that way, hated that he had to be scared the world was still judging him for something he hadn’t even done and it made him want to protect him, from everything, because he deserved the universe.
 
But he understood, he understood perfectly why he couldn’t risk losing everything just to be with him; he would’ve done the same in that situation, because nothing was more important that his brothers.
 
He nodded, looking back into his clouded eyes, attempting to make him see that he truly understood it and agreed with it, even though it hurt to think to have to live without him once again. It seemed that fate was against them, but it’d been since the start, and he’d always known it, he’d never deluded himself over something he knew he couldn’t have.
 
He was glad he’d been honest with him and had decided he needed to tell him the truth face to face, without using healing-lies or anything of that genre. He could’ve pretended there had never been anything between them and continue living his life, but he’d decided that he wanted to see him one last time.
 
He understood everything he’d done, but what he couldn’t wrap his head around was why they were so close to kissing if they both knew there couldn’t be anything between them. He knew the younger wanted something, too; the air between them was almost electric. It felt like they were insane, for a moment, it felt like they had completely lost their minds, but he supposed that made perfect sense, because they’d been away from each other for too long, and it felt like agony to be so close and yet so far away, in that moment.
 
He snapped out of his thoughts when Hanbin started talking once again, after a long moment of silence that seemed to stretch on infinitely, his hands still on his face. He sounded hesitant, although he could hear from his tone that he’d tried to sound confident, like he didn’t have any doubts.
 
“But let me stay,” everything suddenly felt like a mirror of the first night he’d finally confessed what his real feelings towards him were, but it was incredibly more bittersweet and less joyful, less euphoric. It was like a sick twist of fate, and he hated it. “Please,” the younger added after a second, his voice wavering, almost breaking, barely a whisper; he his lips, distracting him immensely.
 
In that moment, he told himself that he needed to stop feeling so broken-hearted, that he had to tell himself that it was the last time they could be together, the last night they had to be with each other, and he couldn’t waste it being remorseful and bitter about all the things he hadn’t done and all the things that he was going to lose.
 
They’d never been meant to last since the start, and that was a fact. They’d always been like pieces of different puzzles that someone still fit together, perfectly, as if they’d been meant for each other, but still destined to be separated, in the end, so the different puzzles could actually be completed.
 
Without giving Hanbin a response, he leaned forward and kissed him lightly, closing his eyes, trying to make him understand that he still wanted him to stay, and nothing had changed since that night more than a year before. And he felt like everything disappeared once again, and there was no one but them, in that starless night.
 
He realised that nothing had changed, and kissing him made him forget all his worries and his thoughts disappear. It felt like a dream. Maybe it was. Maybe it was a dream that was eventually going to end, too soon and too quickly. It was okay like that. At least they were together, for a lost moment in eternity.
 
He connected their lips once again, knowing that he’d started to tremble, without knowing why, because he shouldn’t have felt that afraid, he should’ve let himself go. But, slowly, they started to get more confident, and seemed to remember that they had, in fact, kissed before. Hanbin slipped his fingers into his hair, pulling at the strands and removing his headband, as the kiss grew into a deeper one. At the same time, he let his own hands wander under the younger’s hoodie, palms against his warm skin.
 
They separated only when they remembered that they had to breathe or they would suffocate, but he had to admit that if he ever wanted to die, it might as well have been on his lips. And, god, that was corny as hell, but he didn’t give a damn. He already knew he was a hopeless romantic, after all.
 
“I love you,” the younger murmured against his lips, and he felt that he believed that just as much as he had the first time he’d said that, in his exhausted state, by mistake, his eyes falling closed. He didn’t even know what to say, and he wished he could say it back, he really wished he’d gained the courage to do so, in the past year, but he hadn’t. And he didn’t want to hurt him or himself more than he needed to, either.
 
Laughing softly, he kissed him again, just a brush of lips, feeling an incredible joy bubble up inside his chest. Maybe it had a lot to do with the way Hanbin was looking at him like he held all the secrets of the universe in his eyes.
 
Then, he realised that in that simple word, there was still the same amount of desire there had been a few minutes before and, maybe, realising that made him bolder, because there was no reason to hold back when they were desperately looking for a way to let themselves go and lose themselves in a sort of oblivion that would devour them whole but make them feel happy.
 
Tightening the grip he hadn’t even realised he had on the younger’s hips, he let his lips travel down his neck, lingering on the hollow of his throat and along his collarbone; he grinned when he breathed out his name, his voice broken. He didn’t know when he’d last said his name, and hear him say it like that made him feel a certain way, as if there were sparks into his vein that he couldn’t stop nor control.
 
Going back to his lips, he noticed that the other had grasped the hem of his shirt, but wasn’t doing anything more, seemingly hesitant, probably asking himself whether he could dare to try to take it off or not. He simply pushed himself away from his lips and took a hold on it himself, pulling it over his head, perfectly aware of how Hanbin’s eyes had become darker and his pupils larger.
 
He was staring at him with his mouth slightly agape and he was blushing; they’d spent the last minutes kissing but he was blushing at the sight of him without a shirt, as if that was something astonishing and now didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at him. He didn’t know how it made him feel. Maybe he should’ve felt pleased in having caused such a reaction, but he was just uneasy, because he didn’t know when he had last let someone see him so bare and raw. And he definitely wasn’t thinking about his absence of a shirt, to be honest. There was so much more meaning behind that. He found himself being pushed down on the couch, with the younger still watching him with that look, his eyes glistening.
 
“You’re so beautiful,” his voice was trembling and it was Seungyoon’s turn to blush, and it surprised him, because he wasn’t one to get embarrassed or shy in front of a similar situation. It was just that—the younger seemed so captivated by him, so fully drawn to him that he felt an incredible mix of emotions.
 
Suddenly feeling greedy, he reached over and tugged at the edge of his hoodie, feeling the need to experience the same thing. Hanbin seemed to falter for a second, glancing at him quizzically, like he truly couldn’t understand what he was asking for, or was embarrassed by the idea of being seen without a shirt. He was about to tell him that it was okay if he didn’t want to do it, he wasn’t going to force him, when he moved away from him and removed it, tossing it on the ground carelessly.
 
Seungyoon stopped him for a moment, placing his hands on his chest, wanting to fully look at him. he was gorgeous, in every detail, from his skin, to the ink marking it forever. He lowered his fingers to trace his abs, absentmindedly, and the younger seemed to finally lose the control he’d kept, falling back to his lips, kissing him with all his desire and devotion. The feeling of their warm bodies pressed together was intoxicating, to the point where it became impossible to separate, and they continued kissing for an indefinite amount of time, stopping only to catch their breathing, losing themselves into the heat and the darkness of the night.
 
When they finally stopped, they found themselves submerged into an odd tranquillity, the only sounds breaking the silence were the beating of their hearts and their frayed breathing. Hanbin was lying on top of him, with his head on his chest, leaving feather-like kisses over his skin, marking it, creating invisible constellations.
 
Seungyoon was keeping him close, his hands in the space between his shoulder blades. He was happy, happier than he’d ever thought he would ever be, but yet, he felt like there was something he needed to say, because it could be his last chance and he didn’t want to lose it like he’d done the previous time.
 
“I feel like I don’t know anything about you,” as if he’d just been burned, the younger suddenly sat up, slipping away from his arms, looking down at him with a confused expression painted on his face.
 
He understood him, after all, since they’d been friends and confidants for years and maybe his concern didn’t make any sense, because it wasn’t like they’d never talked about anything else, and yet— he truly felt that way and he couldn’t help it, because he knew that they’d always talked about the pain they’d experienced.
 
He got up as well, sighing deeply, knowing that he had to say those words, even if he could regret it later, because he’d ruined a moment that should’ve been peaceful. “I mean—I know what makes you suffer, but I don’t know what makes you happy,” he avoided his eyes as much as he could, feeling intensely stupid and selfish, after all, that didn’t even concern him, wasn’t supposed to.
 
They’d found each other that one night, but had never been supposed to become friends, had never been supposed to fall in love, they should’ve helped each other and then forget everything once they were okay again, once all their worries disappeared. He looked back at him when he grabbed his hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing his fingertips, forcing him to focus back on his face, without giving him a chance to escape.
 
“You. You make me happy,” he couldn’t hold back a smile, even though that was the corniest thing he’d ever heard, he knew he was being honest, he sensed it in his words, in the gentle way he gazed at him, and it made his heart quiver for a second.
 
“I’m serious,” he retorted, trying to make him understand that he believed him but that wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for, that he truly wanted him to tell him just that about himself, that he wanted to know that detail of everything he could’ve asked for.
 
Hanbin’s eyes wandered off to look at an unspecified point over his shoulder, probably in deep thought about what to say, as if he’d never truly thought about that for too long, afraid to get lost into his own mind.
 
He seemed to smile without even realising it when he understood what he’d been searching for. Seungyoon thought he was so adorable he had to supress the urge to kiss the space between his eyebrows, but, knowing that it was something really cheesy and that he didn’t want to distract him, he didn’t.
 
“You know, I don’t think I need a lot. I just want to keep following my dream, to write music and to be around my brothers and my sister. And it makes me happy when I’m able to help others, especially animals and children.”
 
He turned back to him, still smiling, satisfied with the answer he’d come up with, and observed him for a moment, before continuing. “But I was serious, too. You truly make me happy,” he knew he was telling the truth, but, somehow, he felt like he couldn’t believe it completely, because he’d done nothing but hurt him since the day they’d met.
 
He’d stolen things that were supposed to be his and, even though he’d helped and comforted him, he’d damaged him by continuously pushing him away and taking him back only when he thought he was strong enough to be with him. He was aware of the fact that that love kept hurting him, because he felt that the same way: they were forced to hide in shadows and would never be allowed to actually be together, and, for how much neither of them wanted to admit it, it made them suffer.
 
Instead of voicing those worries, knowing that it wouldn’t have been a good idea, he leaned forwards and left a kiss on the corner of the younger’s lips.
 
“You make me happy, too. I feel like I could look into your eyes for hours, without saying anything, just holding you in my arms; and I forget everything when we kiss, there’s only you. I was an idiot, I shouldn’t have pushed you away so many times, I should’ve tried to love again, and I would’ve realised sooner than the happiness I feel right now is stronger than the thought of getting hurt again. Having nothing at all is way worse than having everything and losing it afterwards; because in the first case, there’s nothing to make up for the pain you’re inflicting yourself.”
 
What hurt him the most was knowing that he’d lost him, he’d already lost him, when he’d first tried to overcome his fear and love him how he deserved to be loved, but that had been a different kind of hurt from what he’d expected, because he hadn’t walked away on his own terms, he hadn’t left him behind because he had realised that he wasn’t worth it, but because he’d been forced to. He had gotten hurt, and yet, somehow, he’d been able to go on with the thought that they would one day see each other again and the hope that Hanbin could still feel the same he’d felt when he’d left.
 
The younger was once again looking at him with his mouth slightly agape, as if he was just realising that his feelings were truly reciprocated and he was happy he’d said all that he’d wanted to, even though he’d been scared he would sound rather stupid.
 
All that had been troubling him disappeared and maybe, he understood that what had happened in the past and what would happen in the future didn’t matter, everything that was important was the present, that single moment they’d cut out of the universe for themselves. Some part of him still had to worry, though, because that was just how he was made.
 
He once again put his hands on his cheeks, gazing into his eyes without saying anything for a second, taking in everything that was in front of him, as if it was the last time he could ever look at him. “I want you to promise me that you’ll be happy,” he knew it was selfish of him to make such a request, but he couldn’t imagine living thinking that he wasn’t happy, that he was still suffering because of his almost-mistakes or because of him. And he was aware of the fact that it was going to be difficult, he just hoped he could continue to do what he loved and to be around people who cared for him, even though he couldn’t be one of them.
 
He wished they could love each other freely, but he didn’t want to hurt him more than he’d already done; he didn’t want to risk tearing him away from his brothers, he didn’t want to risk putting him in a situation he wouldn’t be able to escape from. He needed to let go of him, they needed to let go of each other because they couldn’t drown together. They had to keep breathing and overcome everything that was supposed to kill them, everything that was stopping them from being the perfect people they wanted and needed to be.
 
Hanbin nodded after a short while, like he’d understood what he hadn’t told him, like he agreed with it. Like he also knew that, even though it was hard, letting go was the only solution.
 
“Let’s go to sleep,” he whispered, and the other just followed him without a question. They lay side by side for hours, just looking at each other, without saying anything, until they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore. Seungyoon wished he could say he didn’t dream at all, that night, but he knew it was a lie.
 
He dreamed about two boys who’d been trying to reach a star for years meeting for the first time, neither of them knew anything about any kind of heartbreak, neither of them knew how heavy their life would feel sometimes, they were just a boy with a guitar who wanted to sing and a boy with a crooked beanie and eyes that were too harsh for his age. And maybe neither of them knew what it meant to love and be loved.

“I want you to know that—Well, if you ever need someone to talk to or someone to comfort you, you know where to find me."

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A/N: That's it, folks. I know this isn't really a happy ending, but the story is technically over. I have some others things written of what happens afterwards (because my friends don't like sad endings so they basically forced me to continue it), but I'll see how this story does on this site and decide wether I want to publish the rest here too.