A/N: They're extremely dramatic, Hanbin is kind of a little sh1t but let's forgive him, he's fallen so hard he's lost his mind. And he's so clueless it's insane (sometimes I do feel like he is a little oblivious but don't tell him).

- - -

khb - 2018

He’d been looking at the starless sky upon his head for a long time, by now, just waiting and waiting; it was something he’d gotten used to, the impatient wait for something he was unsure would actually come.
 
It was something that made him feel alive, that kept the blood running in his veins, something that resembled the rush he felt when he stepped on stage, when everything around him was made of bright lights, loud booming music and a cheering crowd. It was different, surely, it was quieter, but somehow the lights were replaced with the ones coming from the top of the buildings around him and in the distance, the music with the frantic beating of his heart and the crowd with whispered concern and comfort.
 
And there he was, waiting and knowing that maybe waiting for something he could never have or reach was his destiny; in some moments in the dark of night, his destiny wasn’t music, his destiny was aching for something he couldn’t have, and he’d accepted it a long time before.
 
He looked at his watch and frowned, noticing that it was progressively getting later, almost to the point that it was early, and he would soon see the sun start to lighten up the sky. He knew he could’ve used that time to work a bit more (he never even considered sleep, he didn’t think he was made for sleep), but he also knew that he couldn’t run away from his own heart, and the latter knew what it wanted and he could do nothing but obey.
 
He wanted to curse the night he’d stepped on that very roof and had seen a scene he would never be able to erase from his mind for how much he tried; he’d been terrified in that moment and he hadn’t known how to react, what to say, and he’d let his heart guide him against his better judgment. But, after all, he knew that it was a lie, that night he’d saved both himself and the other, probably; maybe it was selfish of him to say, because he had his bandmates, his brothers, but he knew there were things he didn’t want to bother them with, things he could only whisper to himself in the dark if he didn’t have him.
 
He heard the door open and glanced up from his phone, which he’d been looking at absentmindedly for the past minutes, a small bitter smile opening on his face, knowing it couldn’t be anyone else, knowing that was their place to meet and would probably always be, since that fateful moment almost two years before.
 
He tore his earphones away, still patiently waiting for the other to reach him, observing him, his fading blue hair and the oversized hoodie he was wearing, which almost matched to the one he had on.
 
The older finally sat down beside him, resting his back against the short wall that divided them from the void behind them, sighing and closing his eyes, without saying anything, at first; Hanbin felt the sudden urge to touch his cheek, trying to be comforting, but held himself back. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to be just that pathetic, and he’d already discovered how delusional he was a long time ago, when his heart was consuming itself for another person, someone he’d thought he could reach, but had later found out was way farther away than he thought he was.
 
“Everything okay, hyung?” he asked after a while, searching his profile, looking for something that would make him understand why he looked so fragile he could break, so distant he couldn’t feel him, so tired he couldn’t speak.
 
“It’s nothing, just—” turning around slightly to look at him, he slowly opened his eyes and softly settled them on his face, as if he was caressing it with his gaze, and Hanbin couldn’t hear anything except the hammering of his heart in his chest, couldn’t see anything except his sharp eyes, couldn’t feel anything except the heat he gave off; when the older smiled, ever so lightly, he thought about doing something stupid, and clenched his fist trying to hold himself back. “I’m tired, that’s all.” coming back to his senses, the younger furrowed his brow, unsure whether to believe him or not, knowing that he was really good at hiding his real feelings, for how much he’d asked him not to do it, because he didn’t expect anything from him, he didn’t have to pretend with him, he could just feel how he wanted to feel, he could scream, he could cry, without disappointing anyone. Instead of questioning his honesty,
 
Hanbin got a bit closer and laid his head on the other’s shoulder, trying to be comforting as best as he could; he missed the time when he still found consolation on their touches, how he would irrationally feel safe in his arms, how he would forget everything when their fingers were intertwined.
 
Everything was different, in that moment; he couldn’t even get close to him without feeling like he was going to suffocate, like his heart was about to give in, his palms sweaty even in the chilly air of night, his mind running crazy even when he was so tired he couldn’t stand up on his own.
 
And there he was, trying to pretend everything was normal, while in reality butterflies were going crazy in his stomach and he needed to constantly push away the intrusive thought of wanting to kiss those perfect lips; he’d already discovered that love was dangerous and had tried to keep away from it as best as he could.
 
Maybe he should’ve been grateful, though, considering Seungyoon was the whole reason why he wasn’t in love with his fellow bandmate and best friend anymore. Exactly when he’d thought he’d finally managed to crawl back up from the hole he’d fallen into, he’d realised that he’d walked right into another one.
 
People said he was an artist but they didn’t know he was actually a tremendous moron, stumbling and falling on his face for unreachable people, when he shouldn’t have been thinking about love in the first place; perhaps that was exactly the problem: he wasn’t looking for anything, and that was the reason he kept falling into that trap.
 
Out of sudden, he felt the urge to ask a stupid question, that he probably should’ve kept for himself, probably because it had more implications than he’d thought about in his exhausted stupor.
 
“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you weren’t supposed to?” because of their closeness, he felt the older wince, so suddenly it almost hurt him, and he realised what he’d just asked, scared that his secret was going to be unveiled.
 
That fear died in his mind as soon as he straightened himself and looked at the other, who was staring back at him with wide, dark eyes, almost as if he couldn’t see him, as if he was searching for something in the air in front of his face.
 
He understood that he’d gotten his answer without even needing to hear words, but still waited patiently, knowing that there had to be a story behind it, he could almost see the other’s memories reflected in his pupils (at the same time, a sudden, terrifying thought hit him: he could’ve been in love with someone right in that moment, and that would mean his was just another unrequited crush; not that he even once thought it wasn’t). There was something he couldn’t quite catch, but he knew it had such an intensity it almost made him sick.
 
“I have,” and that was it, he didn’t say anything more; but it was enough for Hanbin to understand it hadn’t ended well, because he was sure he’d never heard that level of pain into just two words before. It left him gasping for air for a second, wondering what he wasn’t telling him and probably never would; it seemed like it was way more and way worse than a simple unrequited crush.
 
Personally, he knew how that felt like, to look at someone from a distance, hoping to be seen, realising too late that’s an unrealistic dream, realising that they’re impossible to reach and that they will never see you, that they’re completely blind to you and that you’re only just a friend to them. And he knew that, for how much it had hurt, his heart had just cracked and could probably be stitched back together, with anything, another love, a simple distraction, and it’d been easy to do that, burying himself in work and forgetting the pain in his chest.
 
That was why he knew that Seungyoon’s was a different kind of heartbreak: he was sure his heart had been torn to shreds and the pieces could barely be found, let aside be put back together; he didn’t understand what that implied.
 
He regretted asking that question immediately; he regretted it even more when it backfired and he realised he should’ve thought about it. “Have you?” time slowly froze as Hanbin understood that he’d put himself into a situation he couldn’t escape from; attempting not to panic, he looked in every direction possible, looking at everything except the older, and then, thinking carefully about his every word, answered.
 
“Well, yeah. That’s why I asked, I think. Just wanted to know if I’m the only one,” probably, he was the only one who’d done it twice, though; normal people did it once and then got over it, but, no, his stupid heart had decided it needed to pursue impossible people and kept doing it.
 
He shrugged, trying his best to smile, to look casual and calm, while in reality he was having problems breathing, for some reason, maybe because of his own stupidity, or maybe because he’d understood that Seungyoon was hiding much more in his heart than it seemed and he didn’t know how to help him; he ached to love him and yet he knew that he couldn’t, he couldn’t because the other would never let him and maybe not just because he didn’t feel the same.
 
Instead of keeping silent like he’d intended to, he asked another stupid question he couldn’t stop from flying out his lips. “Who were you in love with?” he found the courage to turn around and look at him, somehow, and was hit once again by the intensity of the feelings he could see in his eyes; he looked half like he didn’t understand where those questions were coming from and half like he was quickly falling apart again in front of him and didn’t find the courage to run away. His eyes were shiny, he was sure he was on the verge of crying; whatever had happened, it seemed like he couldn’t forget about it.
 
“No one important,” he said, avoiding his gaze, but Hanbin didn’t need to see him to know that it was a lie, just by the tone of his voice; he understood he’d tried to keep it steady, but in vain, he’d heard how shaky it was, how unsure.
 
It was someone important and he could’ve dared to say that he was still in love with them, for how much it hurt to admit it; he just didn’t know why he felt the need to lie to him.
 
He almost reached over to grab his shoulders and shake him, telling him that it was okay, that he wanted him to tell him that story, but he knew it wouldn’t work, and he knew he didn’t want to force him to say anything, that had never been his intention. “I got over him,” he smiled, bitterly, his eyes still on the ground and everything Hanbin could think about was ‘liar’; he was a damn liar and, right in that moment, he wasn’t even a good one, he wasn’t even trying.
 
He didn’t ask anything else, they remained side by side, in perfect silence, looking up at the dark sky for a while more, before deciding that it was better to go back to their apartments and sleep for a couple of hours; but, of course, Hanbin didn’t sleep, he just kept tossing and turning in his bed.
 
Every time he tried to close his eyes, he would see Seungyoon perfectly, he would see his pain, he would almost feel it again, even though the other wasn’t there; and he couldn’t stop wondering about who it was, that person who’d torn his soul so much he couldn’t even think about him without aching.
 
Was it one of the older’s bandmates? It had to be, he couldn’t think about anyone else; not that there couldn’t be, but he had a feeling. And he couldn’t stop thinking that it had something to do with that first night on the roof, when Seungyoon had cried in his arms and couldn’t stop apologizing to someone who wasn’t there.

- - -

The day after, he half kidnapped Kim Jinwoo, dragging him into a supply closet when he walked in front of the place where he’d been coincidentally hiding, knowing that one of them would pass from there at some point; the older was currently looking at him with his big doe-eyes, half-alarmed, half-confused. He couldn’t blame him, but he was confused as well, and he needed an answer; he knew it wasn’t right to try and get it like that, but if the person concerned didn’t want to give it to him, he had to find some other way.
 
“Who was Seungyoon-hyung in love with?” the other blinked at him a couple of times, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard; and then it occurred to him that the two of them were supposed to be barely friends and that wasn’t something he was supposed to know.
 
And then he realised that the older could’ve been in love with Jinwoo and that question could mean nothing to him for that reason; and, yet, he just wanted to know the truth, because he couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop thinking about everything he’d seen, trying to search for a sign of something he’d missed.
 
How long ago had it happened, what had happened, was that an unrequited love or was it way worse than that, why was he so hurt, how could he help him?
 
“How—What? Do you want me to list all the people Yoon-ah has ever been in love with?” he didn’t know if he was just pretending to be that naïve knowing that it would work perfectly with his looks, or if he actually was. Okay, he had to admit that question was a bit vague, but he could’ve understood if that was a thing that had damaged his dongsaeng so much.
 
“No—which one of you!” he shot back, without realising he was still tightly holding the other’s wrist and slightly shaking him; he didn’t know why he was upset, but he was extremely tired of not getting the answer he wanted.
 
He couldn’t believe it was really that hard to just tell him who it was; did he want to find out because then he would know who to punch in the face for breaking Seungyoon’s heart? Probably, and he didn’t see where the problem was.
 
“Why are you asking me? And how is that any of your business?” Jinwoo’s voice brought him back from the sea of his thought; he sounded calm, strangely calm and still gentle, but he sensed that he was somewhat startled, probably because that wasn’t something anybody should’ve known, it was a dangerous knowledge, something that could’ve been used against them, but he didn’t correct him, and that meant that he’d been right, and it was one of the members.
 
The older was trying to wriggle free from his grip, but he had no intention of letting him go until he got a name out of his pretty lips. Because he was just minding his business, it was the man he was in love with they were talking about and he didn’t give a damn if the other didn’t know about it!
 
“Please, I beg you, just tell me his name. Even if it’s you, tell me. I—just, hate to see him suffer, I just want to help him. But you need to tell me, because I can’t—”
 
“Nam Taehyun!” he hissed in between his teeth, as if he was afraid someone would hear him, and yet his voice reverberated through Hanbin’s bones and got under his skin, and there it was, the answer he’d been looking for.
 
And, then, suddenly, he saw it. Nam Taehyun. Nam Taehyun. Of course, it was him, he should’ve thought about it, because it was obvious; he suddenly remembered everything that had always made him wonder what was going between them.
 
The way Seungyoon would look at him, all their glances, the subtle touches and not-so-subtle touches he’d never really thought too much about, dismissing them as friendly, the way Seungyoon’s voice would soften immensely when he was talking to the other.
 
And, the most obvious fact, that first night he’d talked about him for hours, and he’d just thought that he felt guilty about what happened to him as a leader, but the truth was way different from that; he’d been in love with him and couldn’t help him.
 
Still, he didn’t completely understand what had happened, and a million alternatives filled his head, while another part of him was aching, because, now that he knew the name, he didn’t feel better about it, he just felt more helpless.
 
There was nobody he could punish, nobody he could hurt; now that he knew the name, he also knew that it wouldn’t be right to be angry with him, considering the situation Taehyun had been and probably still was in.
 
He’d thought he would find someone to hate, but realised that there wasn’t no one to despise, that maybe sometimes things just didn’t go the right way; gosh, he was so stupid.
 
He almost asked what had happened between them, but, before he could do it, Jinwoo got out of his loosened grip and ran out of the supply closet, without turning back.
 
Only watching him go, he realised how impulsively he’d acted and that he had to prepare himself for the consequences. He leaned against the wall behind him and grabbed a fistful of his own hair, sighing in frustration, unsure about what to do to fix the mess he’d put himself into.
 
Seungyoon was definitely going to hate him, now, and that had never been his intention. He was so stupid. He wanted to scream, but decided to keep silent and walk back to his training room, trying to put aside all thoughts about the situation; he knew it wasn’t going to end just like that.
 
Jinwoo-hyung was terrible at lying, really couldn’t do it to save his life, he wore his heart on his sleeve, and it wasn’t difficult to understand that his bandmates were going to notice something had shaken him up, and, one way or another, Seungyoon was going to find out what he’d done. He just hoped he wasn’t going to abandon him and to forget everything that they had. Whatever it was.

- - - 

“Who the  do you think you are?” he cringed when the voice reached him, hitting him with the warm breeze of the night, sharp and enraged.
 
He didn’t immediately turn around, he gave himself the time to realise that he’d never seen Seungyoon angry before in his life and that though scared him, because that meant he’d really mess up this time and he had no idea how to get himself out of that situation.
 
The only thing he could do was listening to him, accept the harsh words that were going to be thrown at him, knowing that he deserved them completely, because that story supposedly didn’t concern him at all; even though that wasn’t the complete truth, he knew he shouldn’t have forced Jinwoo to tell him who it was, if Seungyoon didn’t want him to know, for one reason or another.
 
When he finally looked at him, seeing how dark and fierce the older’s eyes were as he approached him shocked him; he started to feel utterly terrified of what was going to happen to them because of his stupidity.
 
Why hadn’t he just accepted that he couldn’t know that damn name? He should’ve known that it wasn’t something he would want to know, knowing how much it hurt the other to just think about it; he should’ve known it wasn’t something he was supposed to know.
 
He didn’t answer his question, he only waited for him to continue talking, with a hundred scenarios going through his head, trying to understand how it was all going to end.
 
“Answer me! Why did you have to know? Do you feel better now?” wincing as he suddenly and roughly grabbed both of his shoulders, as if he wanted to shake him and was trying to restrain himself, he stared at him, looking for words to say, even though everything he could feel was a profound shame.
 
He felt like he was being slapped and wished he could scream back that he didn’t feel better at all, that he should’ve thought before acting and wanted him to forgive him and forget all that had ever happened, but his voice kept dying in his throat.
 
He couldn’t move anymore, he could barely breathe as he watched as angry tears started to fall on Seungyoon’s cheeks, and he realised that he ached to stretch his fingers out and wipe them away, that he could almost physically feel the need to wrap his arms around him and comfort him, as he always did; the problem was that, this time, he was the one causing them, and there was nothing he could do to make him feel better. “I told you I got over him, you had no reason to ask,” as predictable, in that moment, the words that left Hanbin’s mouth were completely different from those he’d meant to say.
 
“But I know that’s a lie,” the older’s eyes widened slightly, and, at that point, he should’ve known better and should’ve stopped talking, but he didn’t. “You’re still in love with him,” he couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped through his words, and hoped he hadn’t perceived it; he probably hadn’t, too occupied dealing with the actual meaning of what he’d said.
 
He felt himself being harshly and mindlessly pushed backwards, and lost his balance for a moment, stumbling away from the other, who was glaring at him even more than before, if that was possible, and understood that he’d ed up yet once again, talking without thinking; it would’ve been easy to just apologize, and he didn’t know why his brain was stopping him from doing the most reasonable thing.
 
“Stop making assumptions about me! What I said is true, I didn’t say it just because I thought you would pity me if I didn’t. I don’t love him; I got over him as fine as he got over me. You have no right to tell me what is true and what isn’t about me,” he kept looking at him in the eyes as he said those words and Hanbin realised that he was being dead honest, and that night he hadn’t lied.
 
It was true, he didn’t know a single thing about him, even after that couple of years. Maybe he’d been desperate for an answer because he needed to know if he could ever a chance with him, even though he hated to admit it; he’d asked because he was selfish and had thought that he could help him if he knew.
 
He’d been so blinded by his feelings that he hadn’t understood that it wasn’t as simple as that, he didn’t simply still love him; he’d been deeply hurt, some way or another, and that was what he couldn’t forget, not the person who had scarred him.
 
Scorching and shamed tears started to stream down his face the second Seungyoon turned away and started to walk back to the door of the roof, and he hung his head low, unable to do anything; he didn’t want to lose him, the mere thought suffocated him, but he’d brought this onto himself. He thought that perhaps, it was better to let him go, if he was the one hurting him; and, then, realised that he selfishly couldn’t accept to live without him anymore.
 
Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, he sprung forward, reached the older and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pretending he didn’t hear his startled gasp. He pulled him against him as tightly as he could, afraid he was going to escape and disappear from his life forever if he didn’t, burying his face in the spot where his shoulder met his neck, closing his eyes and just trying to breathe him in, if that really was the last moment he could have with him.
 
He remained still, waiting for Seungyoon to react and push him away in anger once again, but, to his surprise, that didn’t happen; instead, he sensed him lightly touch his hands joined together on his stomach, and suddenly felt warmer inside, almost to the point where he was burning.
 
“I’m sorry—” he whispered, trying to ignore how his lips almost touched his soft skin, trying to focus only on what mattered in that moment, trying to stop his tears from falling from his eyes. He couldn’t find more words to say, because he didn’t want to risk making up excuses that were only going to make his situation worse, because he didn’t have any that was valuable.
 
The truth was exactly how the other had put it: he’d made false assumptions that weren’t based on facts but on his own feelings about him and had drawn his own wrong conclusion; he’d risked losing him for his own selfishness and he hated himself for that.
 
He’d always known he wasn’t made for love and that was the reason; it was something he couldn’t deal with and should’ve kept away from it as much as possible, and yet, there he was, entangled in something he couldn’t run away from anymore.
 
He had to long for something he couldn’t have, had to let his heart deceive itself over thinking it could have the sweetness and the warmth of a feeling which was forbidden to him and realise that, after all, he was destined to the darkness and loneliness of the night.
 
“Who are you in love with?” the question caught him off-guard, even though he probably should’ve seen it coming; he knew that, if he wanted to be forgiven, he had to answer that question as truthfully as he could, but he also knew that he couldn’t be completely honest with him, because he had no intention of scaring him after making him that angry, or he was probably going to die of a heart attack.
 
“Jinhwan—” he kept his voice as even as possible as he uttered that single word, afraid that Seungyoon was going to understand that it was just a lie. Of course, it’d been the truth, once, but things had changed completely since the nights when he ran away because he couldn’t stand knowing that he was in love with his best friend and was terribly afraid the other was going to find out.
 
He wished he could tell him that he’d been in love with him but he’d forgotten him because of another man, who he’d found on that roof one night, when his whole life was falling apart, another man with full lips, beautiful hands, sharp and deep eyes, who had helped him more than he could ever imagine, another man he was holding in his arms trying not to break apart.
 
“Are you okay?” he didn’t expect that question either, and it amazed him once again how the older was still worrying about him even in such a situation, even while he was angry at him for finding out something he hadn’t been supposed to, even when he didn’t deserve it at all.
 
“No.” he admitted after a moment, and he really wasn’t; maybe, he’d wanted to talk about since that first night, and had always held back because he didn’t know what the other would think about him.
 
Even now that it was in the past, he felt like he needed to let go of everything that still weighted on his shoulders, even now that he was in love with someone else; because that stupid unrequited crush had made him suffer much more than he liked to admit.
 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
 
‘No, I want to kiss you.’
 
“Yes.”
 
“Tell me.” Hanbin felt like crying; he felt like crying because he knew he was finally going to let those feelings go for good, because Seungyoon wasn’t leaving him even though he’d acted like an idiot, because he realised he would’ve fallen in love with him even though he’d tried not to (he was too kind, he was too beautiful, he was too everything for him to fight against), because he realised that, once again, no one could understand him better than he did.
 
And he did cry when the other turned around and softly put his hands on his cheeks, trying to be comforting; there wasn’t anyone he needed to be strong for, in that moment. In that moment, he could allow himself to be weak, knowing that he wasn’t going to blame himself for stumbling.
 
He talked for hours, letting everything out of his system, and could almost see the remains of his feelings for Jinhwan raising through the air like smoke, freeing him from the fear of ruining everything for a crush on one of s; when he closed his mouth, his throat was hurting and he didn’t have anything more to say, and probably would never have anything else.
 
The aching he’d been feeling for years that he’d initially misinterpreted solely as admiration was gone and, for a single moment in eternity, it seemed that everything was fine, under the starless sky of Seoul; for a single moment, as he lowered his gaze to look at his fingers intertwined with Seungyoon’s, he felt that being desperately in love with him wasn’t going to ruin anything between them.
 
He couldn’t have been more wrong.