Taekwoon feels like he doesn't understand Wonshik.
Hongbin thinks he knows Taekwoon never will.

The room was thick with tension as Hongbin switched his views between his best friend and his best friend's . . . boyfriend-thing. He thought that Taekwoon looked akin to a kicked puppy and nearly snorted to himself.

Pain was evident in Wonshik's tired face while his fists clenched at and unclenched and he tried to figure out if he wanted to scream or run away—the latter of which Taekwoon felt like doing . . . Not that he didn't feel like running away all the time.

But he didn't, Hongbin thought, and it was much to his annoyance. How had Wonshik's nature not scared him off already? Why was he even still hanging around when it was obvious that Taekwoon couldn't handle it? They all knew Taekwoon was a coward. A somehow-brave coward and Hongbin wanted to kick him for that.

“I can't let you keep doing this,” Taekwoon whispered, trying to find his voice. Hongbin knew he wouldn't be able to. The oldest of the three lifted his hand towards the wrap around Wonshik’s right arm, but Wonshik snatched his body away a few steps and his blown eyes narrowed.

“Don't touch me.” he hissed.

The glisten of the thin sheen of sweat looked ethereal, beautiful, mystical on Wonshik’s face and neck, Hongbin thought. They looked like quite the pair when it was both of them. Taekwoon looked at Hongbin with a pained expression, unwise to the fact that Hongbin didn't trust him, didn't think highly of him, didn't like him, didn't care about him.

Because he couldn't understand. Taekwoon could never understand.

He had a family. Parents to who loved him. Siblings that doted on him. Grades to get into the top schools around the country—even the world.

Wonshik didn’t want any of Taekwoon's money, any of his comfort, any of his life—and Hongbin knew that. You couldn't spend your time with someone who didn’t understand. But Hongbin understood. He glanced over to the small table where the needle kit was, dressed up in little doodles and funny little art. Almost made it look practically harmless.

Taekwoon wanted to destroy it.

“Please, Wonshik,” he tried again, taking a cautious step forward. He wanted nothing more than to help. He knew that things around his boyfriend were ed up ( “That’s an understatement.” ) but it didn’t need to be like this—and Taekwoon knew that, whatever illusions they had of this being any semblance of good for either of them, they all knew that.

There was a momentary flash of need, pain, want, regret, sorrow, fear, and every other possible emotion that could be applied to this situation through Wonshik’s eyes and Taekwoon’s heart sank as the younger took a step back. He reached for the small black pouch and then fled the room.

Taekwoon reached out after him but Hongbin's snort stopped him. “I'll take care of it.”

Hongbin flashed his beautiful, sickly sweet, toothy smile and Taekwoon’s shoulders dropped.

Hongbin disappeared into the room after Wonshik.

Taekwoon didn't see them again for the rest of the night. He left the apartment before the hazed, lust-filled moans started up.