A/N: This fic has a fairly linear timeline except for the first part (Kyuhyun's), which actually happens around chapter 4-5. I put it here as a prologue, so the real beginning of the story is actually the second part (Siwon's), which takes place somewhere before the release of Don't Don.

---

It was difficult to pinpoint when or where it had begun, or even why.

Because when the hammer of epiphany fell at last, Kyuhyun noticed that this—whatever this was—had been going on for a long time. The arm around his waist was a simple mark of familiarity, a comfortable presence instead of an intrusion. He tilted his head slightly to one side, basking in the protective closeness, and there was Siwon, smiling under a shower of light with that twinkle of his eyes, and in the way he leant even closer, in the way his lips caressed the top of Kyuhyun’s short curls, the slightest of and barest of brushes, was something private, something unbearably intimate that the world stopped spinning on its axis for a moment.

At a different time, in a different place, perhaps none of these would have mattered. But it was one of those moments when worlds collided and planets aligned, when the near-impossible had no choice but to happen. On stage, in front of thousands of audience, with the intoxicating hum of adrenaline in his veins, Kyuhyun realised that he was in love.

 

Not for the first time, a bandmate made a remark on his all-too-noticeable closeness to the youngest member of their group—and not for the first time, Siwon slipped behind a noncommittal laugh and let the answer linger above the echo, behind his teeth, unspoken.

Guilt, he thought, was always the most difficult emotion to express. It manifested in many other things but its real shape, and right now, the mask it wore was kindness.

Because the first time he had heard Kyuhyun singing again after the accident had been a revelation. He cared, of course—he always had, just like every other member of their crazily mismatched group could not help but crack a tearful smile when their youngest struggled to wrap a voice raspy with disuse around the simplest syllables. The fact remained that when you had eleven other brothers and saw them and talked to them and ate with them every day, faces began to blur and there were the same words on your tongue, being said over and over again. You forgot who had heard them and who had not, until they simply ceased to matter and new, different facets of life rushed in, erasing the rest.

But when he stood behind the door to Kyuhyun’s room, none of those words stirred to life. He found himself staring at the strip of light spilling from within, listening to the soft, lilting voice, how it spread like ripples on water, pushing, testing unseen boundaries. Kyuhyun was sitting on the floor, back against the bed, and there was something absolutely heartbreaking in the way he tilted his head back, face folded in concentration, and tried to reach notes he once had managed so effortlessly.

It was one of their songs from the new album, a lament of regret and separation that somehow always fell short of meaning in Siwon’s ears. Always—with the exception of this once, because he discovered that he could not breathe when Kyuhyun’s voice cracked at the end. There was a sob in it, somewhere, between the tail end of a high note and a sharp inhalation, and the sound pierced Siwon’s heart as deeply and surely as it had the still air.

Siwon did not dare make the slightest movement. The moment was so undoubtedly private that he could feel discomfort crawling in the pit of his stomach. Now would be a very good time to escape, before Kyuhyun had the chance to notice his presence—and it would have been the most sensible thing to do too, except for the fact that he could not even bring himself to look away, let alone move from where he stood in the darkened corridor.

Then Kyuhyun raised his eyes and saw him standing there, an invader, a treacherous shadow with eyes and ears. This time, Siwon regretted his moment of weakness enough to wonder why, why he had never listened to that delightfully sensible voice in his head. Clearly the solitary practice had not been intended for a listener’s ears, and the play of surprise and disbelief on the younger man’s face was quick to give way to something uglier, a cross between fear and shame.

Siwon stomped down a completely ridiculous, totally irrational wave of anger which had suddenly risen in him at the thought that Kyuhyun even dared feel ashamed of what he had been trying to do. Only because he saw it.

“Sorry,” Siwon heard himself say, his voice abrupt, almost cold, and it was so utterly wrong that he had to hold back an urge to knock his head against the doorframe. He took a deep, calming breath and began again. “I mean, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just…”

This time he faltered, words stumbling, disappearing, until only the barest bones of truth were left on the periphery of his consciousness. They were cold, unfamiliar, but they were true.

And so he gave them voice.

“I'm glad that I can hear you sing again.”

Kyuhyun stared at him, mouth slightly agape. The unexpected, heartfelt declaration faded into echoes between them, etched quietly into memories. Colour slowly seeped to his cheeks, and it would have been an improvement (in Siwon's opinion), except that stiffness scarcely left his posture.

“Thank you,” he murmured with a slight incline of his head, formal enough, reserved enough to make Siwon realise that they were two strangers masquerading as close band mates. For the first time in his life, he opened his eyes and really saw Kyuhyun, his too thin body and recently bleached hair and painfully awkward smile, all stitched together by a voice that even now haunted the deep recesses of his mind.

There was Kyuhyun, the thirteenth, the maknae, the singer with the beautiful voice; and then there was Kyuhyun.

Whom he did not know. At all.

It was disturbing, and more than a little mortifying, to realise that he had never put much thought on the young man—mere boy, really—outside the scope of the accident few months prior. Even before that, he had never gone out of his way to befriend the quiet, shy teenager who had decided to brave their fame and hostility armed with nothing but a tremulous smile and a God-given voice.

Something inside him broke, and there was a quiet trickle of shame, slowly, steadily spreading in the silent pool of his conscience. It was painful, but Siwon breathed against it, gesturing toward the floor by his feet, and asked, “Can I?”

Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow, surprise evident in his guarded expression. Siwon hid a wince and braced himself against the sting of disappointment. There was refusal in the way Kyuhyun hid his right eye behind a stray lock of pale, unruly hair, in the way he bit the tip of his tongue as if fighting against a grimace.

Neither, however, stopped him from saying, after a long pause, “Sure. Why not?”

Siwon found a minute smile in the depth of his relief and took his seat on the floor, back against the wall. The high colour on Kyuhyun’s cheeks did not subside even as he quickly looked down at the score sheets spread on his lap. Then he began another tune—hesitant at first, before slowly growing out, little hummed notes into a perfect crescendo, because his was the kind of voice that seeped and filled and soared, inborn and uncontainable.

It was, Siwon reflected, mesmerised, a voice that could make love out of nothing. And the most extraordinary thing was, Kyuhyun did not even realise it. He had his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, as his vocal chords wound and weaved magic in the air.

Siwon’s smile softened. This was where they would begin, where wrongs were put to right, where guilt garbed itself and took a kinder form.

This, he thought, was penance.


End Chapter 1

---

Note: The next update will be in a few days. Thank you for reading! Concrit will be very appreciated :D