숨을 곳도 찾지 못해 나는 
피하려고 애써봐도 
거부조차 할 수 없는 
네게 갇혀버린 나 
사랑이었다면 
정말 사랑했던 거라면 
내게 이러지는 말아

Even if I try to avoid you, I can't find a place to hide 
I'm trapped by you, who I can't even deny 
If it was love, if you really loved me, don't do this to me

//

Jiho punches in the code to the lock (2245) and pushes the door open. It’s late, around 3 am, and he’s coming back from a bar.

It’s not like him to go out drinking, but he felt like it. They all have some free time after promotions for Her ended, and Jiho celebrated it by going out and getting thoroughly tipsy on soju and beer.

As the door swings shut behind him, he pulls off his shoes and wonders who is home. He knows that Yukwon’s gone on a holiday, but he doesn’t really know where the other members are. They’re not his responsibility anymore.

He strides into the kitchen, dumping his bag on the bench and pulling open the fridge. It is (unsurprisingly) empty apart from some lonely bibimbap that Taeil had cooked days before.

He shuts the fridge door and wrinkles his nose. He’s hungry, but not that hungry. He turns and, illuminated in the light from the kitchen, is a sleeping figure on the couch. He freezes. Who the hell…?

The figure rolls over to face him and mutters a few choice swearwords. Jiho relaxes – it’s only Jaehyo. If it was Taeil he would expect a lecture about coming home so late. Even worse, it could have been Jihoon, who would have asked Jiho endless questions until Jiho snapped and Jihoon sulked back to his room like a dog that hates being scolded.

But then, he supposes, just because it’s Jaehyo doesn’t make things any easier.

He walks over to the chair that faces the lounge and sits down heavily. The figure doesn’t stir, only turns back around.

Jaehyo isn’t wearing a shirt or pants, just his stupid oversized boxers that Jiho loves to about. Jiho wonders what the hell Jaehyo was doing half on the couch, but then decides he doesn’t want to know.

He sits back and laces his fingers around the back of his head, watching Jaehyo’s side rise and fall peacefully. The light, casting certain parts into shadow, illuminates Jaehyo’s back muscles and they look so smooth that Jiho wants to reach out and touch them.

It was just like this that it happened, he remembered.

//

Jiho had been lying on his bed, belly down, shirtless, tapping away on his laptop, watching some stupid asinine cat video when he heard his door open and half turned his head only to feel a heavy weight thump down on top of him and a smooth voice in his ear.

“What are you doing, Jiho?”

It was Jaehyo, and he was drunk. Jiho could smell the bourbon on his breath. He was shirtless, too, so the position they were in let Jiho feel Jaehyo’s skin on his.

“Jaehyo-aah, get off me and go to bed. You’re drunk.” Jiho stated irritably. They had a performance of Her tomorrow and all the members knew if they didn’t perform their best, Jiho would bring his wrath down upon them. He was famed for it.

“Noo, Jiho, I’m not, I just want to spend time with my leader.” Jaehyo giggled and wriggled on top of Jiho.

Jiho’s breath was a short, sharp intake. He liked this closeness with his hyung, liked this physical contact. Not that he’d ever say it.

Jiho wriggled back, more forcefully, and Jaehyo fell with a crash onto the floor. He looked startled, and the expression on his face was too much for Jiho to handle; the visual of the band didn’t take well to surprises, apparently, because he looked like someone had just slapped him with a wet fish. Jiho rolled onto his back and roared with laugher.

And then he felt Jaehyo’s hand gripping his wrist and with a short, sharp tug, Jiho tumbled to the floor and landed on top of Jaehyo in a maze of limbs and giggles.

Jiho hoisted himself up so he was holding himself up on top of Jaehyo and stuck out his tongue. Jaehyo’s eyes were glassy as he looked up at Jiho and said with a smile, “Jiho-ah, kiss me.”

Jiho nearly fell straight on top of the older man.

“Jaehyo, what the ?” Jiho spluttered.

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Let’s try it, just once.” Jaehyo purred.

“Jaehyo, I-”

Jaehyo cut Jiho off by grabbing his head and bringing it down to his.

Oh, , he tastes so good, Jiho thought, as their kiss deepened. I never want to stop kissing him.

//

Since then, their relationship has been… strained, at best. They tried to hide it on stage, but it had spilled over to the dorm, and the others had noticed.

They hadn’t talked in a week.

But now here Jaehyo was, his back facing Jiho, making him remember that night. Jiho sees Jaehyo’s back, scratched and torn from Jiho’s nails.

Now, though, his back was unmarred and looked soft and inviting.

Jiho sits forward in the chair. He needs to go to bed. He needs to stop thinking about ing Jaehyo again, thinking about Jaehyo’s hand in his hair, thinking about Jaehyo’s mouth on his, thinking about the way Jaehyo moaned his name.

He wishes Jaehyo felt the same.