A/N: Fair warning: this chapter is a hot mess and it probably , but what's new. Hanbin is confused about a lot of things but I am too so that makes perfect sense; leave this poor lovesick boy alone. And I know Hanbin probably had bigger problems than this one, but I don't wanna think about that. Anyway, this takes place the same nigth as the previous chapter, obviously. 

- - - 

“Seungyoon-ah. Seungyoon-ah,” he desperately called out, his eyes flying wide open and tiredness completely disappearing from his mind; he frantically reached out, trying to grab the older’s hands, but he’d taken a step back and was looking at him with an unreadable expression painted on his face.

Hanbin felt the need to slap himself, how he probably should’ve done earlier to avoid talking out of exhaustion, incapable to believe he’d actually ruined everything so easily. He couldn’t lose him; he wasn’t going to stand it.
 
He helplessly watched as the other backed away and grabbed his things from the table, shoving them into his bag and walking away as quickly as possible, without turning back to glance at him one last time.
 
Completely frozen, Hanbin remained sitting on the couch for some more interminable seconds, his mind running wild trying to understand what had just happened: he’d stupidly confessed his feelings for the other and had scared him away—no, he wasn’t exactly sure why he hadn’t said anything, why he was just leaving. What was he doing? He couldn’t stay there and watch him disappear from the room and perhaps from his life forever. He had to talk to him, he had to at least explain!
 
He sprung forward, with an energy he found somewhere unknown to him, adrenaline suddenly running through his veins, and followed the older past the door; he found he hadn’t gone far away, even though he was walking considerably fast.
 
Reaching him almost out of breath, he latched onto his arm and stopped him from continuing running away, forcing him to turn around and look at him. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t said anything at all. Seungyoon furrowed his brow, and it didn’t go unnoticed how he was avoiding his gaze, glancing at his whole face except his eyes.
 
“I—” Hanbin started, not knowing what he wanted to say, if he wanted to apologise, if he wanted to explain, or if he wanted to repeat the same mistake twice, but the older was quicker to speak, asking a question he was half-expecting, half-hoping he wouldn’t ask.
 
“Did you mean it?” their eyes finally met and what he could see in his pupils was a deep confusion, almost as if he was searching for the signs of those feelings which he’d probably missed, those which had brought them in the current situation; there was an undertone of sadness, and he didn’t know how to interpret it.
 
Hanbin thought about lying, but ultimately realised that it didn’t make sense, anymore, because his true emotions were out in the open and he didn’t think he could actually take them back. It hadn’t been difficult to lie when the words were still tucked safely into his heart, but he realised things had irremediably changed in a few seconds, and he couldn’t do or say anything to fix them.
 
“Yes,” he whispered, sensing his own voice trembling slightly; he was undoubtedly afraid, but he knew that honesty was the only way, now. He’d hoped he could go on lying forever and be happy just being by his side, but he should’ve know that, one way or another, the truth would've came out; he should’ve know he would’ve messed up, at some point. And he was ready to be rejected and was ready to never mention his feelings again, if that was what Seungyoon wanted, he just didn’t want to live without him. He wished he would say anything at all, he would tell him that he didn’t feel the same way or something like that. The answer he got wasn’t one he’d considered.
 
“No,” was the only word that left the older’s lips and it left him completely dumbfounded; what did he mean by ‘no’? It could only mean that he didn’t believe what he’d told him, or, even worse, that he thought that he’d interpreted his own feelings in the wrong way and what he believed wasn’t the truth. He wasn’t going to take that kind of answer from a guy who had told him not to make assumptions about him merely a couple of months before. He didn’t have any right to say ‘no’ and nothing else at all, he didn’t know anything. He didn’t know how beautifully devastated he felt every time he looked at his smile, he didn’t know how painfully fast his heart would beat when they got too close, he didn’t know how safe he felt when they were together. He didn’t know and he couldn’t tell him that what he felt for him wasn’t real, because he had no right at all.
 
He opened his mouth to protest, but the look in Seungyoon’s eyes stopped him before he could start; it seemed like he wanted to tell him so much but couldn’t find the words to do it. Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t react when the older freed himself from his grasp and sighed softly, avoiding his gaze and looking at the ground. He didn’t know how to interpret his reaction, and he realised how tired he still was, that he could barely hold himself up; it was exhaustion that had made him speak and now it was making him dazed. He wished he could explain, but he didn’t think he was going to be able to say anything; luckily, the other seemed to understand him perfectly, as he always did, and told him probably the most reasonable thing.
 
“I don’t think we can talk about it, now. Go home and sleep; we’ll think about this tomorrow,” still looking at the ground, he turned around and started to walk away; he stopped after few steps, almost as if he’d suddenly remembered there was something he needed to add. After a few seconds, he finally mumbled half-an-answer, without glancing at him, as if he was embarrassed by what he needed to say. “And I’m sorry but—” he didn’t finish his phrase, but he didn’t need to.  Hanbin understood perfectly what he was trying to say, and, for how much it hurt him to hear him say it, he couldn’t blame him for it; after all, neither of them had chosen the way they felt for the other.
 
He couldn’t do anything more than stare at his back as he walked away, standing perfectly still in the middle of the hallway. He knew he’d probably irremediably ruined their relationship and there was no way he could fix it. It was extremely ironical how, when he’d just started accepting he couldn’t have anything more than their friendship and had started to simply want to be by his side, his heart had decided to speak out without his consent. Losing him was the only thing he was scared of with him, and, now, he could only watch as it happened.
 
He sensed his knees going weak and managed to take a couple of steps back to lean against the wall behind him; he wanted to scream at his own stupidity, but knew that it wouldn’t change anything at all. The only thing he could do was actually go back home and try his best to sleep, trying to forget what had happened and what would happen because of that. Unsurprisingly, he barely slept at all.

- - - 
 
The night after, not less drowsy than he’d been the one before, he agitatedly scrambled on the roof, fearing that the other wouldn’t be there to wait for him. Luckily, he’d kept his promise, and was just a few steps in front of him, leaning on the safety railing and looking down on the streets, much like how he’d been doing the first night he’d found him.
 
He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to act, but he’d made up his mind: he wasn’t going to lie, he wasn’t going to deny his feelings, anymore, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep going like that, with that secret weighing on his soul. This time, he was ready to accept all the consequences; he wasn’t truly ready to let the other go, but if he would want him to stay away from him, he would have to respect that.
 
Instead of making his presence known, he remained still on the door for some seconds, looking at Seungyoon like it was the last time he would have the chance to do it. Perhaps that was the way he wanted to remember him, on that roof, the wind shuffling through his hair, his figure illuminated by the orange glow of the emergency lights, so close to him and yet so far away, much like the star he’d tried to reach for years. He’d realised months before how stupid he’d been to fall so deeply and sincerely for him, but his heart had decided for him and there was nothing he could’ve done to stop it, since he’d realised it when it’d already happened.
 
“Hanbin-ah?” the voice calling from him diverted his attention from his thoughts and made him realise that the older had turned around and was now looking at him, his eyes just as cold and overcast as they’d been when he’d uttered those stupid words. His voice was in strong contrast with them, warm and slightly worried (or maybe he was just imagining it), as if he didn’t know what to do with the information that he had. He understood it. After all, he was positive he wouldn’t have known how to react if someone had told him they were in love with him, especially if he didn’t reciprocate the feeling. He simply wanted him to tell him the truth and nothing else; didn’t want him to give him false hope or anything else of that genre. He couldn’t force him to love him back and wouldn’t even try. Being in love with someone meant wanting nothing more than for them to be happy, and if his emotions hurt Seungyoon, he was ready to forget them, throwing them at the bottom of the mind and losing them forever, even though he knew it was going to be difficult.
 
“Did you mean it?” the same question he’d been asked the day before caught him off guard, since he’d expected the other to launch into some speech about how it wasn’t possible for his feelings to be authentic, and not that he would’ve given him the possibility to answer the same question with a clearer mind. Of course, to him, the answer had always been clear, even when he was drained of all energies; in any situation, the answer would always be the same, real and straightforward.
 
“Of course I did. How could I not?” he didn’t know if he meant that he couldn’t have lied that easily or if he was simply telling him that it would have been impossible not to fall in love with him. He wished he could explain his emotions, wished he could tell him how much comfort he found in their conversations, how much joy he felt by just looking at him even from that distance, how beautiful he was to him, with all his imperfections, fear and scars. Noticing how the expression in the older’s eyes had changed, becoming something more similar to apprehension than forced insignificance, he decided that he needed to keep talking, because he wanted him to understand that he’d never intended to endanger their friendship. “I didn’t mean to tell you, though. I was tired and it slipped past my lips. Just—now that you know, I don’t think it’s right to pretend it isn’t true. I don’t want to deceive you, anymore,” glancing back at him, he saw that Seungyoon hadn’t moved at all, and seemed half-confused, half-concerned, like he didn’t know what to answer to that; like he didn’t know what to say at all, like he hadn’t actually expected his feelings to be genuine, but had realised that it couldn’t be differently.
 
They remained perfectly silent for what seemed like a couple of minutes, and Hanbin had to restrain himself from letting the ache in his heart take over, from running to the other and hold him until he forgot all his pain. He went to speak again, to break that uncomfortable silence that had rose through the air, but Seungyoon was faster. He wasn’t looking at him, he was most likely concentrating on a random spot on the floor, trying to say what he needed to say, because, him too, couldn’t lie.
 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he knew that he meant to say that he didn’t feel the same way and that he knew he was going to be hurt knowing the truth. He always worried too much about how he would feel, or what he would think of him, and he wished he would stop. He was going to be fine; he was going to be fine as long as he still had him. He didn’t need to love him back, he just needed to be there and it would be enough. He was glad to know that, maybe, the older didn’t want to lose him either and that they could continue being friends despite everything, despite his stupid feelings trying to tear them apart.
 
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. Just—don’t leave me,” Seungyoon looked back up, his eyes widening slightly, as if he was surprised by the boldness of his demand, but Hanbin knew that the only way to keep him with him was ask him, because, otherwise, he would’ve tried to stay away from him as much as he could, in fear of making him suffer; it amazed him how selfless he was, always putting other people before himself.

They’d always told each other secrets they couldn’t reveal to anyone else, and, perhaps, he wanted him to be selfish, for once; he wanted him to stay even if he thought he was hurting him. “I don’t think I can stop loving you, but that doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the thought of losing you,” rationally, he knew that the more of his feelings he unveiled, the most he was going to scare him away, but he couldn’t stop talking. He wanted to be completely honest with him, hoping that he was going to get the opposite effect. For a moment, the older seemed baffled by his straightforwardness, probably asking himself where such words were coming from, scanning his face with a quiet look; after an interminable moment, a small and soft smile opened on his face.
 
“Okay,” he didn’t say anything else, but was looking at him right in the eyes, as if he was finally ready to deal with the situation, and his pupils were once again flooded with warmth that reached him even though he was standing a few feet away from him and, for single moment in eternity, everything seemed perfectly fine again. Hanbin was finally able to exhale and smile as well, admiring the older from a distance, like he’d always done.

- - -

He wished he could say things hadn’t started to be kind of awkward, but, after all, he knew it wasn’t the truth. He felt like Seungyoon had started to be skittish, and would always somehow retreat without moving when he got a little too close without warning, and he really wanted to tell him he wasn’t going to combust into flames if they touched, he’d done just fine for months when he still hadn’t stupidly revealed his feelings.
 
That was the strangest thing, he wasn’t uncomfortable, he was scared. It would’ve been easier if he seriously believed him when he told him he was fine and wasn’t suffering. Sure, he could see why that would be difficult to believe, considering in how much anguish he’d been when he was still in love with Jinhwan, and, maybe, had some point he’d suffered again, but that had changed. Sometimes he even forgot it was just another unrequited love, sometimes he even forgot he was in love to begin with, because, on that roof, with imaginary stars shining on them, he didn’t need to remember it, because everything was healing and he didn’t need his emotions.
 
But sometimes, he would find himself staring at him as if he was his only reason to breathe, and would get furiously flushed, immediately looking away, afraid the other was going to notice and would feel uncomfortable because of him. He’d never thought before about how awkward it would be to have someone who was in love with you when you didn’t reciprocate their feelings, but had started to ponder about it more and more, considering he was the one who’d put him in that situation. Being in love with him didn’t make him suffer anymore, thinking that maybe he was hurting him with his feelings, did; but he couldn’t do anything to help it, he couldn’t accept to live without him. Perhaps it was selfish, but he couldn’t let him go for how much he tried.
 
They were still who they’d been since the start, still told each other everything they thought they couldn’t tell their members because they had to protect them, still talked about what it meant to be ‘different’ in a world that didn’t accept them, still talked about things that could never leave the secrecy of that roof, but there was always something unusual hanging in the air between them they couldn’t get past. It was only natural, he shouldn’t have expected things to stay exactly as they’d been, but he didn’t like that sensation that lingered in his mind for more than he liked to admit after they parted.
 
He didn’t know why it took so long to realise that there was something wrong with him and that he’d been lying to himself for a while; he was suffering, and maybe he’d just gone numb. He’d known that his feelings for the older had become stronger than those he’d had for Jinhwan, but he’d never understood what that really implied; it was just a different kind of pain he hadn’t been able to give a name to.
 
What brought him to that realisation was something extremely small, that had most likely happened many times before, but the circumstances had changed through the years and this was a point of no return; he couldn’t escape, because he knew he would always find himself running back to him the moment he faltered.
 
It wasn’t uncommon for him to fall asleep on the roof waiting for Seungyoon, his body finally collapsing after too many hours awake, telling him that he was an idiot and should’ve been home instead of out there in the cold. That was how the other would find him, cuddled up in an odd position, miserable and pathetic, willing to hurt himself to find some sort of relief in the voice of someone. That had happened more than once, and it was exactly something like that which shook him to the core and dragged him out of the lie he’d been telling himself.
 
He’d fallen into a restless slumber while looking at the sky above his head, trying to find the star that was rightfully his, and there was nothing strange in that. What took him by surprise and left him breathless was the way he woke up, because in that moment he couldn’t remember if it’d happened before, but he was sure that it’d never happened since he’d so stupidly confessed.
 
The first thing that reached him was that voice, a voice he knew extremely well, a voice that had comforted him so many times he’d lost count, a voice he yearned to hear every day of his life, every second of his existence; even in his sleep, he couldn’t escape it, as it sank into his bones like cold air, even though it warmed him completely. He couldn’t understand the words, but he knew that it was there. At first he couldn’t distinguish dream from reality and wasn’t sure if the older was actually there and talking to him, or if it was just his imagination. But then, he woke up completely and realised that it couldn’t be a dream, and that he’d been in drowsiness and everything he’d been sensing was as real as it could be.
 
He didn’t immediately open his eyes, instead he tried to come back in touch with his surroundings and found out that Seungyoon was indeed there, holding his face into his hands, closer to him than he should’ve ever been, so much he could almost feel his breath on his skin. He wasn’t saying anything, and seemed that he’d been silent for a while and Hanbin truly couldn’t understand what was happening or what he was doing.

He’d tried to keep his distance from him for almost three weeks, he had barely looked in his direction, he’d tried not to touch him, as if only a simple contact could hurt him, he hadn’t held his hand, he hadn’t hugged him, and now he was doing that. Sometimes he acted in ways he couldn’t understand, he did things that didn’t have a reason and contrasted with his words, and it almost made him angry. In that moment, though, he couldn’t focus on anything else except the fact that the man he was in love with was merely a breath away from him, that he could’ve reached him and kissed him if he’d wanted to.
 
He opened his eyes, ever-so-slightly he was positive that the other couldn’t see that he was looking back at him, and that was the moment something inside of him broke, and he could almost hear it snap. Because he couldn’t explain why the older was looking at him with such gleaming eyes, like all the stars of the universe were trapped into his pupils; he couldn’t explain that bittersweet smile on his lips.
 
He felt like something had pierced him right through the heart and he was slowly bleeding out and dying, unable to move or save himself; it actually hurt, he felt the urge to hold a hand to his chest to stop the pain he was feeling. And then, like he pathetic he was, he felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes and he couldn’t stop them. He didn’t exactly know why, it wasn’t something in particular, it was the fact that suddenly all the emotions he’d thought he wasn’t feeling anymore had come back to him, like something had worn away that numb sensation and was making him realise his mistake.
 
He couldn’t stand the way he was looking at him, he couldn’t stand the fact that he was so close, and most of all he couldn’t stand the knowledge that he’d been observing him and talking to him while he was sleeping, as if he could only stand to look at him in that moment. He had no idea why, but maybe all those things added up to the fact that now Seungyoon knew where his true feelings stood, made him realise that he wasn’t okay and he didn’t know why he’d thought he was.

Maybe he’d just gotten so used to not having anything that he’d settled comfortably into that mind-set after some time he’d spent with those lingering feelings, but he hadn’t realised that things were actually going to change now that what he’d kept inside his heart was out in the open.
 
He must have had tears running down his cheeks, because the older called his name, without letting his face go, in a soft and preoccupied tone that didn’t make him feel better at all; it just sent him into a panicked state, to the point when he couldn’t think straight. Opening his eyes fully, he pushed himself closer to the wall behind him, crying freely, without worrying about what he was going to think about him and his pathetic state, because, after all, he’d seen him in worse situations.
 
He blindly grabbed his forearms and tried to get him away from him, because his hands were burning his skin and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He hadn’t expected him to fight back and to hold on still, refusing to let him go. He almost screamed at him, almost told him to stop behaving that way, asking him for an explanation, why he’d acted like he didn’t know him for weeks and now he woke up to him looking down at him like he actually cared.
 
He got so selfishly angry that his tears of despair turned into tears of rage and he actually thought about hitting the older to get him away from him, because his heart had enough of everything. But, for how much he tried, Seungyoon didn’t let him push him away, even though he tricked him into thinking he’d succeeded, letting his face go when he yanked his hands away; instead of remaining at a distance, which would’ve probably been more advisable, considering the mental state Hanbin was currently in, he pulled him into his arms, taking him so by surprise he didn’t try to oppose. He didn’t try to get free, either, knowing that he wasn’t strong enough, that he would never be strong enough to run away; he only closed his eyes and pressed his face into his shoulder, his breath still uneven.
 
He didn’t know how he felt anymore, he was starting to feel empty, like his sudden contrast in emotions had annihilated him completely. The only thing he knew was that he’d realised that it hurt like hell and he didn’t know why he’d thought it’d stopped. Maybe, at some point, it really had, and not only because he’d gone numb, but because he’d told himself that he couldn’t ruin anything by simply being in love with him, he wasn’t putting anyone in danger and, maybe, everything had started going downhill when he’d said those words out loud, in that moment something had cracked, and the peace he’d thought he’d achieved had disappeared altogether, and it’d just taken him a while for him to understand.
 
“I’m sorry. I can’t stop loving you. I don’t want to, and I know it’s selfish,” he whispered against the fabric of the older’s shirt, unsure if he could hear him, but unable to stop in that moment. He didn’t know how he’d gone from being angry to wanting to spill every gram of his true feelings. He didn’t know why he was telling him things that were probably only going to scare him away, but, perhaps, he finally wanted to be completely honest with him, because he kept feeling as if he was continuously lying to him and he hated every second of it. “Maybe it hurts me but I need you. , I need you so much I feel sorry for myself. And I get it, I really get it if you want to leave, I don’t want to see you suffer, either,” he waited, perfectly aware that he was holding his breath, not knowing what he was hoping for.
 
He didn’t know what hurt the most, if it was loving him, the thought of losing him or the thought of making him suffer because of his stupid heart and its mood swing. He felt a hand slowly caressing his hair and he understood that he’d heard every single one of his words, and that now he was probably thinking about a proper answer, perhaps even a proper rejection.
 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured after a while, his voice doubtful and lightly shaking, and he could understand that he was asking himself if he’d made the right choice, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to answer, either; he could barely understand himself.
 
He counted on the fact that he was going to get used to his emotions once again and he was once again going to settle comfortably with them and forget he was even suffering in the first place. He believed that he was going to be fine, as long as he stayed by his side; he didn’t need anything else, he could keep avoiding his eyes and refuse to touch him, and he would be okay, in the end. It wasn’t impossible for them to be friends; it wasn’t impossible to make things work again. He didn’t know why he was so stubborn about it, when maybe he should’ve just let him go for both their sakes.
 
He couldn’t say it in that moment, but he was going to have to admit it, thinking back about it, that he was selfish that night, that he didn’t think about anything but his own feelings; he also didn’t know how things actually were, back then, on that roof, crying his heart out. And, of course, he couldn’t have imagined that everything was going to spiral into disaster after disaster, until he finally reached the ground and shattered into a million of sharp pieces.
 
He truly believed that everything was going to be fine, eventually, that they could both overcome it, but he’d didn’t know what he’d already started with his mindless confession. He’d broken down so many times already, and was ready to do it again. He hadn’t imagined that the next one breaking would be Seungyoon, and that was going to be just another disaster adding up to the landslide that was going to crush them both.