The van door opened, and the freezing night air rushed in. They'd been running late when their manager had ordered them to stop getting ready and get in the car before they missed their schedule entirely, and their coats had been left in the apartment in their hurry. They were still wearing the sleeveless shirts they'd been given for a TV station interview that afternoon, and there was too little fabric to them to keep them protected from the sharp autumn wind.

Jaejoong shivered, wrapping his arms across his chest as the members one by one leapt down from the van. What was the point of making it to the music show on time if it meant they might catch a cold and lose their voices entirely? He glared at their manager, as if all of it-- the cold weather, their poor time management, the warm coats waiting for them back in their warmer apartment-- was his fault. Blaming someone else was much more satisfying than admitting that he had signed up for this up-and-down life with all its glory and painful turns on a long-winded and increasingly unfair contract many years ago.

“Hey.” Hot breath tickled against his neck, raising more goosebumps on his bare arms. He turned his head half-way, even though he already knew who would be waiting for him when he looked back. It wasn't just Yunho's voice that was distinct; it was the way his voice felt, so sweet and strangely terrifying that he wasn't sure if his reaction was due to the sudden heat against his cold body or his nerves for the millionth time getting the better of him.

Yunho hooked an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. “Cold?” he asked. His own teeth were chattering as they made their way to the music station's back door. Changmin, Junsu, and Yoochun had run ahead to get out of the cold, but Jaejoong felt his own pace slowing to match Yunho's. The air was still chilly, but he knew the sooner he made it to the door, the sooner he would lose the intimate touch against his body, the considerate gesture of a friend who was becoming so much more to him.

Why are you doing this?, he wanted to ask. Yunho had his moments of slowness, but he wasn't completely oblivious. He had to have noticed now how things were beginning to change. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they'd gone over their images with management and been told, “the fans like the relationship between you two, keep doing what you're doing, all right?” How long did something like that stay a game? Was there an expiration date, or if it ever started to feel real, did that mean it was? He hated it sometimes, how everything they did felt like a marketing strategy, a ploy, something he had signed away on that stupid contract. It bothered him that the problematic feelings in his heart belonged as much to the company as they did to him, and there was still no way of knowing who Yunho's feelings belonged to, if he had any for him at all.

“Jaejoong-ah?” Yunho pressed, his brow furrowing. Jaejoong realized he hadn't said anything, and had just kept on walking numbly towards the door. They stepped into the bright lights of the hallway, their bodies shocked by the sudden increase in temperature.

“Your changing room is at the back, to the right,” their manager said, pointing the direction with his finger. A few other doors creaked open, and familiar faces peeked out, bowing and saying hello. “The one with the red sign on it.”

“Got it,” Yunho said. As an after thought, he dropped his arm from around Jaejoong's shoulders. Because it's warm now, because people are watching, because you did it in the first place without thinking? Why?

They walked down the hallway together, not talking, not touching. Monitors winked from both directions showing the stage they would soon be performing on, though it was currently being set up for another group. They glanced at the image, then back down at the floor. When had it gotten so much harder to talk? Why did loving someone make it that much more difficult to be open and honest when before it had been so easy?

When they reached the changing room, Jaejoong quickly slipped away from Yunho's side, losing himself in the storm of activity, the costumes, the make-up brushes, the last minute instructions from the choreographers and managers. This part of his life was much more desirable, the fantasy worlds they wove with their songs, the bright lights spelling out their name, and the way their voices blended together. Even if he couldn't talk to Yunho properly now, it was so simple to sing his “I love yous” and turn into look into his eyes as he laid it out plainly. The fans would go wild, and Yunho would half-smile either genuinely or because he was supposed to, but that still didn't mean it was as real for him as it was for them.

“Hyung,” Changmin called out, pulling his arms through the black shirt with loose white threads twisted into a web in the front, their costume for the performance. “Where's Yunho-hyung? The stylist noona is looking for him.”

Jaejoong glanced around the room. Yoochun was also in the process of getting into his costume, and Junsu was talking to their choreographer, but Yunho was nowhere to be seen. Jaejoong turned back to Changmin and shrugged. “Maybe some of the hoobae groups are introducing themselves?” he offered.

“Could you go look for him? You're the only one who's ready, hyung.”

“Fine, he couldn't have gone too far, anyways.”

He poked his head out of the room and glanced down the hallway. A few people from other groups were milling back and forth watching the monitors, and staff members were there to point everyone in the right direction. He stopped one with a gentle touch on the elbow. “Excuse me? Have you maybe seen Jung Yunho walking by?”

“To the left, in the room with the blue door marked 'storage'.”

“Storage?” Jaejoong blinked. “What would he be doing there?”

“The room is sound proof and quiet. I think he had a bit of a headache.”

“I see. Thank you for your help.”

He didn't say anything about a headache, Jaejoong thought to himself. Or about the cold. He was just looking after me, and I didn't thank him or ask how he was. What am I doing here? If I claim to like him so much, why is it that I can only ever think about myself?

He pulled open the storage room door and glanced around. There were props everywhere. Some were familiar to him from previous stages, while others were so odd that he couldn't possibly imagine what they'd be used for. Fake flowers, twisted netting, a patterned screen, a stand filled with Chinese parasols, an ugly floral couch, a giant clock leaning against an even bigger hourglass. Yunho was seated on a wooden chair beneath a tulle canopy hanging from the ceiling. His head was leaned back and his eyes were closed.

Jaejoong shivered. The heat wasn't in this room, and though it wasn't as bad as it had been outside, what he was wearing still wasn't enough to keep him warm. He crept closer, close enough to see the cold sweat beading on Yunho's face and neck. He was already dressed and made-up, and he must have been just as cold as Jaejoong was feeling. But still his headache must have been bad enough for him to put up with it for the sake of a moment of quiet. Jaejoong didn't want to wake him for that reason, but they surely had to be preparing to go back on stage soon. It didn't matter if their heads hurt of if their throats were dry because of the cold; they were here to do a job, and there were people waiting beyond the stage who were counting on them.

Instead of immediately waking Yunho up, Jaejoong knelt in front of the giant clock prop and wound the hands with his finger. It began to tick, not loudly, but enough to stir Yunho just a little in his seat. Jaejoong waited a moment to see if Yunho would wake up the rest of the way, and when he didn't, he tipped the hourglass and watched the grains begin to fall to the bottom slowly. Maybe that would be enough to give them more time, or at the very least time that belonged only to them.

Yunho's voice came from behind him, soft and somewhat hoarse. “Who is it?”

“Guess,” Jaejoong said quietly, turning back towards him. “Don't open your eyes.”

Yunho extended his hands, and Jaejoong took them, entwining their fingers together. He thought his body would be cold after being alone for awhile in the unheated room, but Yunho's fingers were surprisingly warm as they gripped his.

“When can I open them again?” Yunho asked.

“Do you know who it is?”

“If I say 'who are you?,' can I keep them shut?”

“You can open them when I tell you to. Not sooner.”

They fell silent for a moment. He could hear just faintly voices coming from the hallway. The first stages would be starting soon, and it wouldn't be long before Changmin or one of the others came looking for them. He glanced back at the hourglass pouring away their brief moments alone. There was still time left, but what to say?

Do you feel as strange as I have lately? Is it fine?

Are you cold? Does your head hurt? Is there anything I can do?

Towards you...

Do you feel anything? Is it only me?

You don't have a girlfriend anymore. I don't want you to look for anyone but me from this moment forward. Am I not good enough?

Really, towards you...

We're running out of time. Will we ever really have any?

When you open your eyes, what will you say?

He sighed, and Yunho squeezed his hands. The sand continued to pour behind him, and the clock ticked away the seconds.

“You've probably figured it out by now,” he said finally, ducking his head even though Yunho couldn't see his face. “Do you hate it?”

“Hate it?” Yunho echoed, as if he didn't quite get the question.

“If you know about it, you can't pretend it's not there. And now that we're talking about it here, openly, you can't turn back when you open your eyes. Even... even if it can't be a 'yes,' you have to answer me eventually. Is that all right?”

“And if it's a 'yes,' everything is going to get harder for you, Jaejoong-ah. Is that all right with you?”

Jaejoong pursed his lips. That was true. His life hadn't become magically perfect just because he was in love. Talking to Yunho normally had been one difficulty, but there were so many others. Trying to keep it hidden even though they were out in the open, and they were supposed to have that relationship in front of the fans. Trying to decide between what was real and what wasn't between them. Always having to walk that fine line of being someone who had unexpectedly fallen in love with a person he couldn't easily have and being someone who walked across a stage wearing costumes under stage lights bearing his names and a sea of faces waving signs and expecting things from him. Yunho was right. If his love wasn't one-sided, it would only become more difficult. Perhaps it would be a happier burden, but he would struggle all the same. Jaejoong shook his head, correcting himself. They would struggle. He couldn't decide if that was good or bad, that he and Yunho would shoulder something together, that if it wound up being a painful thing, it wouldn't just be him getting hurt.

But maybe that was the price you had to pay for happiness. To gain something, you had to lose things as well, and if you moved forward, things couldn't stay as they were. He had known all along that falling in love with Yunho would be both the easiest and hardest thing he'd ever done, and he couldn't accept that love without first accepting that there would be challenges not just for him, but for both of them. Do you still not want to turn back?

He swallowed back the lump in his throat and sat up on his knees, releasing Yunho's hands and pressing his cold palm against his cheek. His throat was dry and his lips were chapped, but still he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Yunho's, gently as if he was connecting with something that could fall apart at any moment. It wasn't the perfect kiss, but it was as good an answer as any for now. What he felt didn't belong to anyone but himself; this was his decision, his love. If he couldn't step up and separate it from the person he had been made to be, how could he expect Yunho to separate it, too?

The clock ticked one last time, and the last of the grains of sands fell. Jaejoong pulled away and took a deep breath.

“Open your eyes,” he said. You can't go back now.

Thank you for reading!!!!!