“Don’t keep everything to yourself,” Kibum’s eyes are grey, much to grey for someone meant to be the youngest of their group. Jongwoon wonders if the foreigness that surrounded him at the age of ten, in a place surrounded by strangers who speak a language he doesn't understand, robbed Kibum of his rightful innocence.

“We’re all here for you, so tell us anything that’s troubling you.”

He doesn’t phrase it as if you’re troubled, you can speak to us, but instead strings his message into a command. It’s not an offer, it’s an order, because Kibum knows clearly Jongwoon won’t let himself be an extra burden to anyone.

--

The grey clouds speak of looming, bad weather but Jongwoon doesn’t care. He continues sprinting, as though he’s trying to outrun the world that revolves much too fast for him. He wonders if he can run away, run away from everything, run away to his small hometown Cheonan, run away back to his mother, his father and Jongjin and never return.

--

...and for a moment, Jongwoon thinks - what am I running towards?

More raindrops pelt his pale skin but Jongwoon continues running, and soon, a cascade of rainwater showers the relentless man. His hair is drenched, his clothes are soaked and streams of cold water gush down his face. He feels his lungs constricting, his muscles straining and his heart threatening to burst – and then he slows down to a stop.

He stares at his feet, pants weakly and lets the wet warmth down his face mingle inexorably with the freezing downpour. Jongwoon suddenly wonders what life would have been if he never got into SM Entertainment.

I want to go home.

Jongwoon bites on his lower lip, and wills himself to stop crying.

Suddenly, Jongwoon feels this familiar heat radiating to him and a pair of thick, strong arms around him. He’s pressed into someone’s chest, also doused with wetness, and a face pressed into his hair.

“Y-Youngwoon?” Jongwoon’s quivering voice is nearly inaudible in the heavy rainfall, and a deafening roar echoes through the air. Youngwoon’s breath is hot against his ear, and his embrace is safe, comforting and gives Jongwoon all the sense of security he needs.

Youngwoon’s hand reaches up to dash Jongwoon’s falling tears. He holds the older for a while more, and then whispers into his ear.

“Let’s go home.”

--

“You’re such a ing . How do you even fall while running a charity marathon? Don’t you know that you’re supposed to pull out when you’ve hurt yourself?” Jongwoon hears Youngwoon’s growl and a pattern of beeps follows over the phone. He laughs gently, brushes his legs against the blankets pooled at the footboard and falls asleep.

( When he wakes up, Jongwoon is draped up in the covers. He blearily gets his phone and sees a message – bloody idiot, do you want to catch a cold too?

Jongwoon smiles. )