Daehyun is angry.
He's angry, and he's hurt, and everything is Yoo-ing-Youngjae's fault.

Scratch that.
Everything is Choi Junhong's fault.

It's Yongguk's fault, and it's Himchan's fault, and it's Jongup-with-his-stupid-abs's fault; it's everyone's fault but Daehyun's.

Daehyun, who is too much of a ing coward to admit to himself that he's maybe (okay, a lot) in love with Yoo Youngjae.

And it's all Junhong's fault.

Junhong, with his stupid long legs and his dumb hair and his dumber grin. Junhong, who makes Youngjae laugh, who clings to the other like a baby koala wherever they go, who is all Youngjae seems to talk about lately.

Daehyun smiles and nods as he listens, and tries not to hate Choi Junhong. 

---

It hurts.

There's a sharp pang that seems to be making itself at home in Daehyun's chest, a twinge that spikes every time he catches a note of Youngjae's high, clear laughter, every time he sees Youngjae smile at the maknae as he drapes himself over the latter's shoulders.

Because Daehyun can't make Youngjae laugh like that, doesn't draw Youngjae in with a brilliant smile, doesn't have the courage to say what he wants to. And he wants to.

It hurts a lot, and lately Daehyun's been having trouble swallowing around the lump growing in his throat. He's assured the others that it's just a cold, though Youngjae never asked, or gave any indication that he either cared or noticed that Daehyun was hurting. 

Himchan catches him one night, the light seeping in from the window highlighting the tear tracks on his cheeks and making it very clear that the sniffling coming from Daehyun's bunk isn't from some cold. Himchan holds him--and Daehyun's missed it so much, any physical touch, because Youngjae used to touch him a lot, like he couldn't keep his hands to himself, but now all he can touch is Junhong--and pets his hair and lets him cry, lets him dig his fingers into his sleeve and shudder, trying to keep his heart from falling to pieces. 

"You really love him, don't you?" Himchan asks, and of course Himchan knows, because Himchan knows everything, and Daehyun just sobs brokenly, because across the room, Youngjae hasn't even stirred.

---

Daehyun drifts.

He drifts, and he hates Junhong, and he tries to forget Yoo Youngjae.

(He can't, Daehyun could never forget Youngjae; if they were to meet in different lives, different universes, Daehyun is sure that he'd recognize the other. He'll always know Yoo Youngjae.)

He lays on his bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, some band deafening him through his headphones, not loud enough to drown out the hurt. He raises his head, briefly, when the door cracks open, and he wishes he didn't, because it's Youngjae, on the tail end of laughing at something someone--probably Junhong, but Daehyn doesn't even care--said, and Youngjae's face falls when his eyes rest on Daehyun.

Daehyun doesn't cry, but it's a near thing when Youngjae frowns and says curtly, "Dinner's ready."

He isn't hungry.

---

"Youngjae-hyung and I are going to the store, hyung. Wanna come?" It's Zelo, bright-eyed, poking his head through the door, looking like the ing ray of sunshine he is. Daehyun wishes he could be that radiant.

And he doesn't mean to hurt the kid, but it's hard not to, when Daehyun himself is hurting so much, when he hates the easy way that Junhong can make Youngjae happy. "No," he snaps, guilt instantly zinging through him at the look on the maknae's face, "leave me the alone."

Yongguk comes in and tries to scold him, later, but Daehyun thinks that he must look so pathetic and sad, all folded in on himself and broken, that the eldest just can't.

He leaves with a strict warning to Daehyun to at least try to be civil. 

Daehyun's trying hard enough to breathe through the shards in his lungs.

---

"I'm a ing coward," he tells Jongup, "I'm such a ing coward, god." 

It's not even about Junhong, anymore. It's never been the maknae's fault, anyway.

Jongup takes his hands and feed him gentle words, and though they warm him, it's not enough.

Jongup's not who he needs to hear it from.

---

He doesn't mean to cry in concert.

He doesn't mean to, but he does, and he's stupid and dumb and weak. 
He manages to hide it when he passes a towel over his face, because they're all sweating, under the stage lights, and from a distance, no one can tell (he hopes).

It's because of the stupid Q&A session they'd had prior.

"Youngjae-oppa!" Some young teen girl--they all blend together after a while--had practically screamed, "What do you think about Daehyun-oppa?"

Daehyun had choked on his breath, and Himchan's hand had found his knee under the table, reminding him to breathe, survive, survive, survive. The crowd of young girls chanting "Daejae! Daejae!" had rung dully in his ears.

Youngjae had laughed at the question, a derisive laughter, and answered, "Daehyun? Ah, I don't like him very much," and he'd wrinkled his nose in that adorable grimace-face, and it had been meant as a joke, and the fangirls had laughed.

Daehyun had laughed too.

It hurts so much.

Yongguk sees his bloodshot eyes backstage, and there must be something in them that speaks of emotions deeper than exhaustion, because he pulls Daehyun close, under his arm, and runs his fingers up and down Daehyun's bicep, comforting.

Daehyun passes the car ride home with his head pressed against the window, body curled inward, staring blankly out at the lights.

He can feel Youngjae's gaze on him, heavy. The ache in his chest hasn't gotten any better.

---

"What is your ing problem?" 

Youngjae finally breaks on a Saturday night, and Daehyun knows it's the end. It's the end of everything, of him, and he doesn't even care. He looks at Youngjae with a hollow gaze, and it only seems to spur the younger on.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks, Daehyun. What the is going on?" 

Daehyun just shakes his head, because he can't, and Youngjae groans. He's mad, he's irritated--because that's how Youngjae is when he's upset and confused--and Daehyun made him that way.

Daehyun tries to make himself appear as small as possible, and wishes to die.

"So what, I don't even get an answer? You're not even going to give me an explanation as to why you've been acting like I don't even exist? Wow, I...wow. I mean, I knew you were egotistic, Jung Daehyun, but I never thought I'd actually see the day when you thought yourself too good to talk to your ing best friend."

And Daehyun breaks, too. He breaks and a horrible sob rips from his throat, and Youngjae looks so stricken, but Daehyun can't even form the words, can't form any words, can really only sit there and let the heaving sobs take him, and hope the shudders will maybe knock his soul loose from his body. 

Half a second later Youngjae's crowding up against him and Daehyun jerks away like he's been burned; if he could see through the tears in his eyes, he's sure Youngjae would probably look terribly hurt, and it gives him a guilty sense of vindication.

"Don't," he begs, voice raw and unused, as he squirms out of Youngjae's hold, "don't, please don't."

"I..." Youngjae sounds so helpless, and a new wave of pain crashes over Daehyun, "I...? Daehyun...what?"

"I can't, I can't, I can't," he babbles, head lolling against the bedspread, "don't do this to me, Youngjae, please, you can't...you can't..." Air catches in his lungs and he can't breathe, and Youngjae lunges forward anyway, gathering Daehyun to him.

It's his own personal kind of hell, to feel Youngjae so close, to feel the warmth Daehyun's missed, the burn of hot air on his ear as Youngjae pleads with him to "Breathe, Daehyun, c'mon."

He dimly registers the words, dimly registers that he's hyperventilating, dimly registers Youngjae's face, blown wide with panic.

Daehyun drifts.

---

He wakes up tired, warm, and disoriented. He's in a bed--and it's not his, because Daehyun has a top bunk--and the dorm is so, so quiet.

He almost believes he's alone until suddenly Youngjae is there, in his face, and Daehyun squeaks in surprise.

Youngjae smiles at the sound, but it's a pinched, weak kind of smile, and Daehyun's stomach grows leaden. "Hey," Youngjae croaks, and Daehyun manages some response, sounding just as bad. Youngjae sighs, and leans back against the side of the bed, facing away.

The silence is thick, and heavy, and Daehyun wishes desperately to go back to when they could sit together for hours without words.

"I don't..." Youngjae's voice is soft, and sad, "I don't understand, Dae. Help me. Let me help you. What's going on?"

But Daehyun just shakes his head again, because he can't, and even if he could, Youngjae would never speak to him again. This distance, this ache...it hurts so much, but it's bearable compared to the pain Daehyun would feel if Youngjae decided to hate him. Daehyun couldn't...he'd never be able to take it.

And he's a coward, a huge ing coward.

"Please," Youngjae's eyes are glassy, and he looks as lost as Daehyun feels, "please, Dae. I can't..." He sighs again, heavy and defeated. 

"You're so distant. I mean, it's like...I don't even know how to reach you anymore. You're right there, but you don't look at me anymore, you don't come to me anymore, I... I thought we were best friends; I mean, am I wrong? 'Cause that's..." Youngjae's throat clicks, "...that's okay."--It's not okay, it's not okay at all--"I just...you just seem so sad lately. And I don't know how to fix it, because you're always avoiding me....I miss you, Daehyun."
 
"I love you," Daehyun whimpers, like he can't stop himself, and oh , he's ruined everything. Youngjae's eyes are wide when he shifts around to face him, and Daehyun's gaze drops instantly.

"W-what?"

Daehyun breathes, shaky, because it's too late, now.

"I love you."

Youngjae's mouth is open, incredulous, and Daehyun wants to die. This is the worst, he knew it would be. Daehyun's breathing through broken glass, and the burning in his eyes is hard to squint through, and the pain in his chest is the worst it's ever been.

"And--and--I kept waiting to tell you, I kept...hoping that...I don't know. But then you stopped being around me, and you were always with Junhong, and I...you were so happy, Youngjae, and I didn't want to say anything. You looked so happy, and I...I don't make you happy like that. I--I want to, but...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's dumb, please just..."

Daehyun's voice cracks, hoarse, and when he can't force anything else out he sags, defeated, into the mattress. Youngjae stares at him for what feels like an eternity, and then he's pushing up onto his knees, onto the bed.

"Don't," Daehyun manages, squirming away half-heartedly, "I don't...please don't touch me, I...it hurts. I don't want your pity, I can't..." 

Youngjae wiggles closer anyway, because that's what Youngjae does, and pulls Daehyun close enough that the latter can hear his heart beating, hear the steady whoosh of air moving in and out of lungs, hear what it sounds like to exist without pain.

"Just wanna hold you," Youngjae mumbles, and Daehyun shakes his head against the former's chest. "You didn't," he accuses tiredly, "you didn't want to, before. Y-you just...you just left me..." 

"That's not true," Youngjae warns, but he sounds unsure, "I didn't leave you, I..." 

"You never asked," Daehyun points out, when the quiet becomes too thick, "it was like you didn't care. You just walked away, every time." Daehyun's fists tighten in Youngjae's shirt, "I needed you."

"I'm sorry," Youngjae whispers, brokenly, "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Daehyun..."

It feels like the end, with the two of them crammed close on one bed, sniffling, fighting a pointless battle to keep the tears at bay, and Daehyun's ready for it.

"I love you, I'm sorry..." He's not ready for that. Daehyun's heart squeezes painfully, and for a second he forgets how to breathe.

"Don't!" He cries, breaking through the silence cocooned around them, "Youngjae, don't...I can't, I can't...don't...not this...not with this..." The tears won't stop, and Daehyun curls inward, trying to keep from unwinding. He's choking on every inhale, tripping on each exhale.

"I'm sorry," Youngjae hugs him closer, and their chests heave together, "I didn't mean to, I wasn't...Daehyun, I love you, I'm sorry, I'm telling the truth..."

Daehyun wrenches himself free and rolls upright, shuddering. He scrubs his forearm across his eyes--he might be whimpering, it's hard to tell--and gasps, trying to settle.

"D-don't," he breathes in, stuttering, "don't play with me, Youngjae. You can't...you can't do this to people." 

Behind him, Youngjae draws in a shaky breath. "I'm not," he wobbles, "I...I couldn't do that to you, Dae...I might be blind, sometimes, but I'd never...Jesus, no." 

Daehyun nods, and his eyes are bright, exhausted, when he turns to face Youngjae again. 

"Then show me," he murmurs, and Youngjae does. 

I may have cried in the writing of this