Yongguk knows the announcement probably comes as a shock to the other members; it’s not exactly something he’s talked about a lot, after all. Then again, he doesn’t really talk much at all about the serious stuff, he mostly just keeps it in his thoughts – and he has thought about it, pretty much from the moment he learned he’d be debuting as a member of TS Entertainment’s new boy group. Even before the final lineup was determined and Yongguk met the other boys he’d be working with, before he learned to love them and care for them like his second family, Yongguk wondered how the other members of the group would fare without him when the day came when he was required to leave to enlist in the South Korean military.

Would the other boys in the group promote in subunits or do solo work, or would the group go on without Yongguk at all, instead going on hiatus or splitting up? Early on, he entertained the idea that maybe they all might enlist together, but as soon as he met Junhong, who was confirmed as the third member of the developing group despite being barely a teenager at the time, Yongguk knew that simply wasn’t an option: Junhong is too young and far too talented to serve in the army any earlier than he has to, especially if it’s just for Yongguk’s sake.

The thing about Yongguk is, he’s always cared more about other people’s well-being than his own. It’s what led him to make the announcement that he plans to enlist now, well over a year in advance of when he actually wants to do so, so that the company and the other members have enough time to try and decide what they want to do while he’s gone.

He expected the other members’ reactions to be less than positive, but somehow they manage even to surpass his expectations: Youngjae, ever the braniac, is going over the business side of things, examining the benefits and drawbacks of the five remaining members’ subunit and solo career possibilities – at least until Daehyun interrupts, telling him that that’s the company’s job and he should stop stressing everyone out with all the facts and figures of their probability of success without Yongguk. (Yongguk doesn’t say anything, but he agrees with Daehyun, especially since all of Youngjae’s calculations sounded pretty bleak.)

Himchan is pouting like an oversized toddler, with his arms crossed and his bottom lip poked out, and he doesn’t say anything but Yongguk knows he’s upset because he figured since he and Yongguk are the same age and have known each other the longest that they would enlist together. Nothing’s set in stone yet, and Yongguk was actually planning on talking to him about it when they got back to the dorm and asking if he wanted to go with him, but now that the second-oldest is acting like a five-year-old Yongguk would rather wait until Himchan is over his sulking before asking him anything.

And Jongup, of course, is acting like nothing has changed at all, and it’s times like these Yongguk would really like to get inside his brain. It must be nice there, he thinks.

What surprises Yongguk the most is Junhong’s reaction. The youngest member hasn’t said a single word since the six of them left the company meeting, and despite sitting next to him in the backseat of the company car, he’s keeping his eyes trained on the floor or straight in front of him or out the window to his right – anywhere away from Yongguk.

He’s hurt by the announcement, Yongguk can tell. He knows Junhong looks up to him, and the thought of Yongguk leaving for close to two years is one he’s pretty sure Junhong doesn’t want to entertain. But it’s not something Yongguk really wants to do; he’s required to serve in the military by law, and all six of them will have to do it at some point during their lives. Yongguk just has to go first because he’s the oldest. He needs to talk to Junhong and explain this to him, but now isn’t the right place or time – and besides, if Junhong’s body language is any indication, it doesn’t seem like he’d be too willing to listen at the moment anyway. So for now, Yongguk leaves him be. Talking to him can wait until they get back to the dorm.

Except, when they get back, Junhong is out of the company car in seconds, running up the stairs to their dorm so fast, by the time Yongguk gets up there, Junhong has already locked himself in the room he shares with Jongup. Clearly, he’s not in the mood for talking. But part of Yongguk’s job as the leader includes taking care of his bandmates, which means talking to them when he needs to, whether they’re in the mood for it or not.

He knocks on the maknaes’ closed bedroom door. “Junhong,” he says. “Junhong, it’s me, Yongguk.”

There’s a short silence before he gets a reply of “go away!” but he was expecting that, and he won’t give up quite so easily. “No. Junhong, I need to talk to you. Open up, please!”

There’s another brief silence before Yongguk hears the clicking of the lock and the door is opened up just enough to reveal a very moody and pissed-off looking Junhong. “What do you want?” he scowls, and Yongguk takes a deep breath, trying to control his temper.

“Junhong, let me in, please. I need to talk to you.”

Junhong bites his lip, and Yongguk can tell he wants to say something disrespectful but thinks better of it. He may be aggravated with him right now, but Junhong still has enough sense to know using too much informal language will make Yongguk angry, and even when in the middle of a fight he knows that’s not a smart thing to do. So instead of saying anything, he opens the door all the way so Yongguk can step inside.

Once inside, Yongguk makes his way over to Junhong’s unmade bed, pushing aside his laptop and some of the other miscellaneous junk that’s thrown across the tangled blankets in order to clear enough space to sit down. Junhong doesn’t move from his position by the door, simply shutting it again and turning to face Yongguk. He folds his arms across his chest. “Talk.”

Yongguk narrows his eyes. He’s trying to be patient, he really is, but Junhong’s unusual attitude is rapidly wearing his patience thin. “Do you really think you should be talking to your hyung that way?”

Junhong scoffs. “What’s it matter? In a few months’ time, you won’t have to put up with me anymore.”

So there it is, the root of the problem and the reason Junhong’s acting so uncharacteristically bratty: Yongguk’s leaving to enlist in the military. He softens his tone, hoping to convey to the younger that he understands why he’s acting like this and that everything is going to be alright. “Junhong, it’s not like that. I’m coming back–”

“Yeah, and then Himchan-hyung will have to leave, and then Daehyun-hyung, and Youngjae-hyung, then Jongup-hyung, then me.” He shifts, moving away from the wall and locking eyes with Yongguk, who can’t help but note the fire flashing in them. “Face it, hyung, the six of us being together as B.A.P – that ends as soon as you leave.”

Yongguk doesn’t know how to respond to that, so for a while, the two boys just stare at each other. He doesn’t want to admit it, but Junhong’s probably right, and he doesn’t want to tell him that, but he doesn’t want to lie to him either. He clears his throat. “Junhong–”

He hasn’t even said two words but it’s enough to make Junhong’s face fall, the tough act crumpling within seconds. “I’m actually right, aren’t I?” he breathes, his voice wavering. Yongguk can see the beginnings of tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and it makes his heart ache with compassion. This is his dream, after all, and Junhong’s still just a teenager, but already he’s being told that the dream’s about to come to an end. “I didn’t want to be right; !”

Briefly, Yongguk feels the urge to tell Junhong to watch his language, but his leader instincts are outweighed by his compassion for the bleary-eyed boy. He gets to his feet, walking across the room to place a comforting hand on Junhong’s shoulder. It’s shaking a little, and Yongguk says softly, “We knew this wasn’t going to last forever.”

Junhong sniffs, and even though he won’t look up at him, Yongguk knows he’s crying. It occurs to Yongguk that he’s never really seen the boy cry before – there was that one time at their first concert, when he read the letter to his parents, but that was an exception. Junhong’s not really an emotional person most of the time, or at least, he tends to keep his emotions to himself. So seeing him in tears now, especially knowing that he’s partially the cause for it – it makes Yongguk feel like , to put it bluntly.

After a few moments, Junhong lifts his sleeve to wipe his eyes and says, in a small, broken voice, “But I wanted it to.”

Before Yongguk fully realizes what he’s doing, he’s pulling Junhong into a hug and running his fingers through the boy’s hair. Junhong clings to him, his hands in the fabric of Yongguk’s shirt as his body’s racked with quiet sobs. “Please, don’t leave me, hyung,” he gasps out. “I don’t want you to.”

“I have to go, Junhong,” Yongguk protests, but the words get stuck in his throat and come out choked. “It’s the law.”

“But you’ve been a part of my life since I was twelve years old, hyung,” Junhong says, looking up at him for the first time since he’s started crying. His dark eyes are sparkling with tears, and Yongguk finds himself wishing he really didn’t have to leave after all. “How am I supposed to just let you go after everything–”

He cuts himself off with a choked sob, burying his face in Yongguk’s shoulder once again, and Yongguk moves his hand to rub slow, rhythmic circles along his back. “You’re gonna do just fine without me, Junhong, I promise. You’ll have such a huge solo career; you’re going to be bigger than G-Dragon, with more number-one singles, more international success–”

“But I don’t want that, hyung!” Junhong cries, clinging to Yongguk even more desperately. “I just want to be the maknae of B.A.P and stay with you and Jonguppie-hyung and Himchannie-hyung and… and…” His voice wavers again and he breaks off.

Yongguk breathes deeply, inhaling Junhong’s scent and carding a hand through the boy’s soft locks. “Look at me, Junhong,” he says softly, and the younger obliges, looking at Yongguk with such pure adoration and need the older no longer knows what to say. He thinks for a moment, trying desperately to determine the right words and finally settling on, “You’ve known all your life that we’d have to enlist in the military. Why is this suddenly such a big deal now?”

Junhong in a deep breath but doesn’t say anything, and for a moment Yongguk thinks he’s not going to. But then his gaze turns determined and he says, “Because I fell in love with you, hyung.”

It’s quiet, and Yongguk blinks – once, twice, he loses count how many times. His brain just can’t seem to process what Junhong’s just said, and he’s still looking at him, still talking to him, and the fear in his tearstained eyes is overwhelming when he says, “And I’m terrified that I may never see you again after you leave.”

Yongguk’s heart is aching, but he’s still caught up on the first thing Junhong said. “You… fell in love with me?”

Junhong bites his lip, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “I wasn’t supposed to, I know, and I tried to fight it but I… I just couldn’t.” Yongguk still can’t manage to make himself do anything but stare at him, his face blank and unreadable, and so Junhong goes on, taking a deep breath and looking back up at him before saying, “I think I’ve loved you since the day I met you, really; not that I knew it was love back then, of course.”

A heavy breath falls out of Yongguk’s mouth. “You love me.”

Junhong nods. “Yes.”

They’re both surprised when Yongguk responds by pulling him close once more, hugging the taller boy’s body tightly to his own. When he speaks, his voice is a rushed whisper, hot and warm against the shell of Junhong’s ear. “We’ve got a year until I have to leave,” he says quickly. “If you want, I’m willing to… we could try–”

Junhong tugs at his arms, forcing him away until the two boys are at arms’ length from each other. He shakes his head sadly. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better about you leaving.” He bites his lip, as if the words are hard for him to say. “I don’t need you to pity me, okay, hyung?”

 “That’s just it, though,” Yongguk says. “I’m not.” Junhong blinks in confusion, clearly not expecting this response. Yongguk doesn’t really understand it either, but there’s something inside him, something that just feels… right, and he needs to convey that to Junhong. “Look, I’m not going to say ‘I love you, too,’ because as it stands right now, I don’t. But I’m not freaked out by your confession like I think I should be – like I would be, I think, if it were any of the other members.” He’s quiet for a moment, waiting for the words to sink in. When they do, Junhong’s eyes sparkle, and this time Yongguk knows it’s not from the tears. “And that has to mean something,” he concludes.

Junhong tries to keep his face stoic, but the corners of his lips are twitching, and Yongguk can tell he’s going to break into a smile at any moment. “We’ve got a day off next Saturday, you know.”

Yongguk’s own mouth is beginning to betray him, curving up on one side as he says, “Is dinner and a movie alright with you?”

At last, Junhong’s happiness wins out, and he grins, pink lips pulling up to reveal rows of tiny, pearly white teeth. Excitedly, he pulls Yongguk into yet another hug and breathes, “Hyung, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”