rustle | exo: you probably couldn't see through the lights (2/2)

Traffic in Seoul is much more tolerable at this time of the day. There aren't too many cars on the road anymore, and drivers are much less irate, so Jongdae keeps the radio at a low volume, giving Joonmyun free reign on the music.

Joonmyun plugs his own iPod in and loads a playlist filled with soft, soothing sounds. He keeps shifting in his seat, though, and the steady humming is gone. Between shifting traffic lights, Jongdae glances at him, briefly concerned about Joonmyun ruining his hair, but that only gives Jongdae an excuse to run his fingers through the tuft. Nobody wins, and he's the only one who loses. Joonmyun's the unassuming prize at the end of the game.

They reach Eden in a little under thirty minutes, and the club's already packed when they arrive. The dim lighting makes it hard to find their way through the crowd and to the side of the stage, and by the time they get there Joonmyun has already run his hands through his hair far too many times for Jongdae to count. "Relax," Jongdae whispers, taking a step forward as he does so, and he fixes Joonmyun's hair again, then fixes Joonmyun's collar. Joonmyun cracks his neck, and for a moment his hand gets trapped under Joonmyun's head, Joonmyun's skin keeping him warm.

"I think you're more nervous than I am, hyung," Joonmyun teases, but Jongdae knows that peculiar lilt of the voice all too well for him to brush it off as nothing. Joonmyun wears the strap of his guitar around his shoulders, and he flashes a thumbs up at Jongdae for one last time before disappearing backstage, too immersed in talking with the band he'll be playing with tonight.

Jongdae manages to find a lone table to the side, where the light no longer reaches. He settles there and orders gin tonic, drumming his fingers on the table as he waits for the performance to start.

Joonmyun goes up first tonight, and he goes for an introduction instead of jumping right to singing or playing his guitar. Despite being in all black, the darkness doesn't eat him up even if he steps away from where the light shines the brightest. His blond hair sticks out like a beacon of light, and Jongdae squints, trying to ease the pressure on his eyes a little.

Then he remembers being in a room with Joonmyun, all alone, his fingers working on the buttons of Joonmyun's polo. Joonmyun had been so warm under him then, and Joonmyun hadn't brushed him off, and Jongdae's eyes keep flitting from Joonmyun's own to the dip of his neck, then settling on Joonmyun's collarbones.

Joonmyun's skin is so soft. He wonders how it would feel to keep touching Joonmyun, fingers tracing his collarbones, the length of his torso, dipping under the waistband of Joonmyun's tight leather pants—

The music finally starts, and Joonmyun harmonizes with a female singer at the back. The beat is faster than most of the songs Joonmyun has ever performed, and Joonmyun's voice takes a light dip, venturing to the lower pitch of his range. This is the same sweet spot that Joonmyun had hit back when he attempted to do a John Legend song, and Joonmyun's eyes are sharp, dark, hooded as he sings about being cheated on.

A low, velvety tone slips from his lips when he hits the chorus. Jongdae can feel his chest constricting.

Joonmyun's swaying to the music now, eyes closed, losing himself to the beat of his own song, and Jongdae briefly wonders what it would take to shake him out of it, this trance, and make Joonmyun focus on him.

It takes Joonmyun a good ten minutes after the performance before he finds the table Jongdae has reserved for them.

"I'm never wearing black again," Joonmyun grumbles, loud enough for Jongdae to catch but not so much that the people at the table beside theirs can hear. He leans back into the couch, throwing his head back as he sinks into the cushion. "I think I could use more practice with dealing with drums," he goes on to say after a while, and Jongdae simply keeps his eyes fixed on the stage where a new band has taken over. They're singing Jazz songs; it's a bad pick when Joonmyun ended with a slightly upbeat song.

Jongdae suddenly feels something in his side, slender and cold, and he almost jumps when Joonmyun starts poking at him, a grin stretched across his lips.

"Thought I lost you for a moment," Joonmyun says, body facing Joonmyun now. He's got one leg propped under his thigh, and his left hand finds its way to Jongdae's thigh. "You okay, hyung?"

"Yeah, just—" Jongdae's eyes are drawn to the column of Joonmyun's neck, and he continues south, up until the edges of the placket of Joonmyun's polo. "Thinking of that performance back there, the first one," he continues, recovering just slightly. The hand on his thigh is warm, and Joonmyun hasn't even had alcohol yet. Maybe it's the heat from the lighting seeping from Joonmyun skin, through the thick material of Jongdae's pants. "You're right, you need more practice with dealing with drums. The modulation of your voice was off in some parts."

Joonmyun inches closer, and Jongdae takes a quick look around them — the darkness is thick enough to shield them from the view of most people, and nobody really cares about him when he isn't promoting songs or appearing on television as a coach in The Voice. He leans back into the couch, trying to relax his shoulders even with the distraction of Joonmyun rubbing circles on his thigh with his hand. "Which ones?"

"Did you drink before going up there?"

Joonmyun chuckles. "Two shots. The guys backstage made me." He sniffs a little, rubbing the tip of his nose with his index finger. "It was the band's first time performing here, too, so we… needed to be a little buzzed before getting up there."

Jongdae laughs a little, shaking his head. "Your first drink's on me. You did well."

"Hmm." Joonmyun leans closer. If there's enough light, Jongdae can probably count Joonmyun's eyelashes. If he's inebriated enough, he can trace the length of Joonmyun's face with fingers. He isn't. "I'm not sure if a good teacher buys his student drinks all the time. What do you think, sonsaengnim?"

He can't think, not right now, not when he's already had a glass of gin and the dinner he's eaten leaves him craving more food, not with Joonmyun this close. "I think… you talk too much," he replies, trying on his best smile, and he ruffles his Joonmyun's hair a little. "Grab a drink. We'll talk about your performance when you get back."

Joonmyun looks at him for a while, assessing, then pulls away with an easy smile.

Jongdae tries his hardest to focus, to come up with critique on Joonmyun's performance, but his mind is much too clouded — with alcohol, with the feeling of his thumbs against Joonmyun's collarbones, with Joonmyun's breath hot against his cheek. Water's much too expensive at a club, so he goes for another glass of alcohol. "Joonmyun, can you get me some whiskey?" he calls out in time, and Joonmyun gives him a wink before stepping back into the light, making his way to the bar.

The light washes Joonmyun out. Jongdae can feel the tension in his stomach ease a little.

The dilemma in bringing a car when he knows he'll be drinking a lot is bringing it back home.

"You can't drive, hyung," Joonmyun says beside him, face buried in Jongdae's arm. It's a good day to wear a dark long-sleeved polo today, what with autumn slowly making its way through the months, blowing cold wind at an obscene hour. It's a nice contrast to the warm press of Joonmyun's body, especially when Joonmyun hangs onto Jongdae's hand like a lifeline. He'd done the same earlier, when they were talking about looking for a way to work around percussion instruments, Joonmyun tracing patterns on the back of Jongdae's hand. Maybe it was because Jongdae had already downed three more glasses of whiskey even with the knowledge that he'll have to drive home that he just let Joonmyun, even falling silent at one point and just staring at Joonmyun scribbling figures on his skin.

"I can't leave this here, though."

"You're not driving home after drinking too much. You're not going to get yourself arrested for it, and you're definitely not gonna run yourself into a tree." Joonmyun's mostly slurring, but his words still make sense, and his grip on Jongdae is tight. "Hyung. Let's take a cab. It's safer. I won't let you drive your expensive car all the way to Cheongdam."

"You're just concerned about the car," Jongdae teases. Joonmyun looks at him, eyes heavy-lidded, and Jongdae's laughter quickly dies down. "Kidding. Fine. Parking's gonna kick me in the ass."

"I hate private cars," Joonmyun mumbles. "Next time, don't bring your car when you know we'll be heading home late."

"It's not my fault you asked me to—" His mind goes back to what happened earlier that night, in the room, and how Joonmyun had looked at him with too many questions in his eyes. "Fine."

"Okay, it's off to a cab for us." Joonmyun finally lets go, stretching out an arm to hail a taxi. "Would you mind if I took the first cab, hyung?"

He wouldn't, really, except Joonmyun has had way too much to drink and there's a clawing sensation at the pit of Jongdae's stomach that simply won't sit with the idea of letting Joonmyun go home at such a late hour, and in this state. "Just stay at my place until the morning. I can't let you go home alone."

Joonmyun gives him that look again, the one loaded with too many emotions that Jongdae can't pick out just one to define them all. "I'm not a kid, hyung. I'm not that drunk. I can still gives directions to my house."

"I insist," Jongdae says, grabbing Joonmyun by the back of his collar. The edges of Joonmyun's hair brush against his knuckles. Joonmyun's warm — it must be the alcohol, or the cool wind blowing in their faces. "Scoot. I'll get us a cab."

"I have to report to work early."

"Call in sick. I won't let you go home alone when you can't even say my name correctly."

Joonmyun steps closer, almost stomping on Jongdae's feet, and Jongdae laughs a little but keeps his arm outstretched in case a taxi drives by. "Jomdae-hyung."

"I don't know a Jomdae, Joonmyunnie." He bumps his shoulder into Joonmyun's, and Joonmyun nearly stumbles, holding onto Jongdae's waist for balance. Jongdae takes a deep breath, abdomen clenching, and Joonmyun giggling into his arm doesn't help make things better.

Jongdae spends the next twenty minutes listening to Joonmyun's soft snores and giggles, Joonmyun's head on his shoulder, lips grazing his neck every so often. He drifts off from time to time, but Joonmyun's tiny sounds keep him in check, reminding him that they're in a cab and that there's one other person here, and that it's too late in the evening and that they're both heading to Jongdae's place, not to their separate flats.

Jongdae hands 5000 won to the driver and ushers a half-asleep Joonmyun up the stairs, into the elevator and eventually his condo.

"Are you sure this is okay, hyung?"

Jongdae looks over his shoulder. Joonmyun's words sound clearer now, like the nap has done him well and has flushed some of the alcohol out of his system. He's leaning against the frame of the door, halfway in and out of Jongdae's condo, and never has he seen Joonmyun so small and unsure. "I mean, I told you, I can manage going home by myself. It's not as if I have shitty alcohol tolerance—"

"You do," Jongdae interrupts. He takes a few steps closer, reaching out to ruffle Joonmyun's hair. "And I don't mind. Not unless you grind your teeth in your sleep and you talk a lot."

"I sing in my sleep," Joonmyun confesses. He slips his shoes off his feet, revealing bright yellow socks. Jongdae hadn't caught them earlier, but it lends well to the outfit, a touch of something different amidst all the black and dark hues that make Joonmyun look twice his age. "Will that be a problem?"

"How do you know you sing when you —" Jongdae shakes his head, then leans against the wall. "Never mind. Come on, let's go to bed. You have to get up early, right?"

Joonmyun laughs, walking over to where he is and looking up to meet Jongdae's eyes. "I lied. I can come in anytime." He scrunches his nose, rubbing the tip with his index finger — Well, isn't that cute, Jongdae muses. "I own the company."

"You own it?"

Joonmyun offers a soft smile, but it's tight around the edges. "Come on, hyung," he says, hands on his hips. It almost sounds as if he owns the place, but that can't be — it's the first time Joonmyun has been here. He can't be at home so easlly, especially with all the alcohol in his system. "We don't have all day."

Jongdae locks the door and walks past Joonmyun, leading him to the bedroom.

The sheets are still unmade up from this morning, when Baekhyun had unceremoniously pulled him out from bed for their standard Monday morning breakfast dates ("Date," Baekhyun repeats. He worries his bottom lip. "We can't use that term anymore."). "I hope this is comfortable enough for you," Jongdae says, hand moving across the emptiness around them, all the wasted space, then finally the bed. "I've been living alone for as long as I can remember," he adds, walking closer to the bed as he undoes the buckle of his belt. "'I've always found the bed small."

"It's big enough if you're alone. It looks really…" Joonmyun pats it, his hand sinking into the comforter. Jongdae can see Joonmyun's eyes fluttering close for a while. "Fluffy."

"You better get dressed. I'll get you a change of clothes. I'm not letting you sleep in those," Jongdae says, then rolls his belt in a coil, placing it on his bedside table. Joonmyun follows suit, and Jongdae finds himself watching Joonmyun slowly pull down the zipper of the tight pants. "You okay with that?"

Joonmyun looks up, stopping just before he pulls his pants down. Jongdae wets his lips, tongue swiping across his bottom lip slowly, and Joonmyun gives him a small smile before replying, "That would be great. Thanks, hyung."

Jongdae disappears behind the door of his closet and rests his head against the shelves for a while. His mind isn't spinning anymore, but his heartbeat's racing and there's a half-naked Joonmyun just beyond the door, and Joonmyun will be slipping beneath the covers with him. "Hyung, need help?" he hears Joonmyun say, and he simply waves a hand, then digs into the drawers, looking for a pair of sweats and a shirt that will fit Joonmyun.

He tosses the clothes in Joonmyun direction and Joonmyun catches them with relative ease. Jongdae's eyes run along the length of Joonmyun's legs, bare and a light shade of pink from all the alcohol he'd taken earlier, and he manages to tear his gaze from Joonmyun even before he gets caught. He changes out of his polo and pants, too, throwing the used clothes in a pile near the door to the bathroom.

He's halfway through pulling up his shirt when he catches Joonmyun staring. "These are comfy," Joonmyun says after a while, then drops his gaze back to his feel. Jongdae suddenly feels so cold.

He sits down on the bed once he's done, back against the pillows near the headboard. The allure of the soft cushions is sweet, wrapping around him like a quilt, but he quickly bolts when the feels the weight on the other side of the bed. Joonmyun has slipped beneath the covers, blanket drawn all the way up to his nose.

Jongdae reaches over, patting Joonmyun's hair, and Joonmyun scowls in response.

"Your bed's too big, hyung."

Jongdae laughs a little. "You have no right to complain," he says, then slips his legs under the covers as well. "You're just staying the—"

Joonmyun moves closer, until their arms brush against each other and Jongdae can feel Joonmyun's fingertips cold against his skin. "Thanks for taking care of me," Joonmyun whispers, then lies on his side so that he's facing Jongdae, chest to arm. His eyes are closed and his lips are drawn to a thin, thin line, and Joonmyun probably won't mind, so Jongdae slips an arm beneath the weight of Joonmyun's body, his hand coming to rest on Joonmyun's waist.

"I like herding lost sheep back home," Jongdae whispers, and Joonmyun only scoots closer, face now buried in Jongdae's chest. The lighting is dim enough to discourage Jongdae from leaning in to count Joonmyun's eyelashes, so he just rests his head atop Joonmyun's own, burying his nose in Joonmyun's hair. He smells of sweat and alcohol and Gangnam at three in the morning, of the welcoming winds of autumn after a long summer's day.

Jongdae hums a small melody under his breath until he falls asleep, one of Joonmyun's arms wrapped around his waist, like it has always been supposed to be there.

Jongdae wakes up alone in his bed, a sticky note stuck on his forehead. thanks for your warm bed, hyung. had a good sleep c: it says, and he spends a few good minutes staring at it, a silly grin on his lips as he's finally convinced to peel himself from his bed and rejoin the world of the living. It's only nine in the morning, and the skies outside foreshadow rough weather. Summer in Korea has always been all extremes, and Jongdae's thankful that the monsoons haven't come yet. Having heavy rains means he has to stay inside without any noise to distract him from his thoughts.

His eyes travel to the sticky note he has just posted on the mirror of his dresser, and he laughs to himself, at himself. Heavy rains mean he has to skip on going to clubs and not being able to stay there until the whee hours of the morning, looking after a kid whose love for music can give him a run for his money. He looks around, searching for his phone, and launches KKT as soon as he finds it. got home safely? he texts Joonmyun, and it almost comes as a surprise when a reply comes in not more than a minute after.

i'm good! just a bit lightheaded, haha. you drive better than most cab drivers, hyung.
not that i'm saying that i want to hire you as my driver or what

By now, with summer almost ending, he knows that it usually takes Joonmyun fifty feet of long sentences to arrange his thoughts, but he has better days, too, when his replies are limited to a couple of words, meaningful ones that almost always end with a smiley and not proper punctuation. Joonmyun is a man of routine, someone who loves sticking to a pattern, but enjoys veering from it every so often — when he steals Jongdae's drink halfway through his vodka because I can't remember how it tastes anymore, really. Joonmyun always goes to work early, clocks out late unless he has a gig somewhere, and when he does perform in various clubs it means he needs to think even if all he does is talk — about music and the walk from the office to the club, or how uncomfortable it is to be performing in dark clothes.

as long as you feed me. i have time up until comeback next year, Jongdae replies after a while, and he tosses his phone back on his bed, heading to the kitchen to prepare something to eat.

Another sticky note in the middle of his kitchen table, and then food in a plastic container just beside it. i'm not the best cook but you had food and i stole instant coffee from your stash. sorry :c (p.s. better throw out the kimchi if you're not gonna eat it this week; it's expiring soon)

"I don't even have breakfast at home," Jongdae says, then pulls a chair, plopping down on it as he props his chin in his clasped hands.

He stares at the food — sunny-side up, about a cup of cooked rice, and breakfast sausage — he thought he never had, then traces the writing on the bright piece of Post-it.

"What do I do with you, Kim Joonmyun?"

What are you doing to me?

Jongdae cannot, for his life, understand why Baekhyun and Sunyoung chose to be married during summer. For one, wearing a gown would be the second most cumbersome thing ever (only next to wearing heels for extended periods of time, as proven by Taeyeon asking Jonghyun nicely to, "Please carry me to the car? My feet fucking hurt. I love you." The weather does very little to make the schedule seem like it's a great idea, as well, and Jongdae simply frowns as he looks out of the window, watching the rain pour hard.

"It's the best possible date, though, according to the numerologist," Baekhyun says on the other end of the line. His voice breaks up occasionally, but Jongdae knows it's just the weather at work. "And it would be nice if we could go to Jeonju to visit her grandparents just a few days after the big day." Jongdae can hear Baekhyun using air quotes — he always does when he tries to convince people that what he's saying, despite the roundabout manner of explaining it, actually makes sense and is of importance. "Halmeoni always complains that we don't visit her because we spend too much time in Bucheon."

"Do you, really? Because there isn't anything in Bucheon to return to anymore," Jongdae replies. He tucks his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, trying to whip something up in the kitchen. He ends up with cereals and a fruit cup; he'd thrown out the kimchi last week, after seeing the note.

"Just halmeoni's house," Baekhyun replies. His voice is a bit reedy, a bit too nasal — either he hasn't been sleeping well or the weather's been getting to him more than it should. Sometimes, it's both. "She'll kill me if I sell it. I'm thinking of turning it into a shrine for Byun Baekhyun, best jazz singer to ever grace the land of South Korea."

Jongdae snorts. "It'll be a flop," he retorts. "Why don't you turn it into a shelter for dogs or something? Since, y'know, you technically were her pet."

"Why did I get you as my best man again?"

Jongdae laughs a little, but yelps when some of the fruit syrup spills on his fingers. "Because I'm your only friend."

"The only one who stuck around." Baekhyun laughs a little. "Sometimes I wonder why you did."

A lot of reasons, Jongdae wants to say, but laying down all the points will take more than a day. The press release is that they're the only ones who truly understand each other, but the reality is that they've been through so many things already, have spent way too many years training alongside each other to know that the loud exhale is more than an expression of fatigue, or that Baekhyun leaning his head on Jongdae's shoulder is actually a call for help, reserved for when Baekhyun feels like quitting idol life already, when expectations weight down on him. Baekhyun is always there, has always been there, and Jongdae simply isn't the type to write someone off so easily just because he has found himself a cooler set of friends.

Jongdae was there when Baekhyun signed the document stating that the doctors would no longer attempt to revive his grandmother if her blood pressure ever dropped again, was there when Baekhyun bowed to his grandmother's coffin one last time, when Baekhyun took some soil and cast it upon the coffin as it was being lowered. Baekhyun was there, too, when Jongdae had fallen to his knees and cried in the middle of recording his fourth studio album after learning of his family's death.

"I don't have time to keep wondering about it," Jongdae finally says after a while. "So, rehearsals tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow." He can hear Sunyoung's voice in the distance, telling him to double-check the guest list for one last time. "Come in earlier? I need you to keep me sane."

Jongdae clicks his tongue and he counts to three, until Baekhyun makes a sound of protest and finally says please? "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can't live without me."

"Of course." A pause, and then, "You're the best!"

Jongdae hangs up after a while and pads to his room, making his way to the closet where his suit is. He takes it out and hangs it on the hook on the door. He can still remember the look on Baekhyun's face when he'd fitted the suit, the way Baekhyun rested his hands on Jongdae's shoulders, hands sliding down until they were on Jongdae's own. "You look good," Baekhyun had said then. "Maybe better than I do."

He shakes his head and falls back into his bed. It's only afternoon, yet he feels like crawling beneath the sheets and just curling up there, wrapping the blankets around him like a cocoon, but he'd promised to turn in a couple of compositions by the end of the day, for the group that's just about to debut. He quickly gets back on his feet, but the beeping of his phone reaches out to him like arms pulling him down on the bed. sounds SMP enough, the message reads, and Jongdae doesn't reply; instead, he waits for the sticker that will inevitably come, because this is Joonmyun, and sending stickers is part of Joonmyun's routine.

He is part of Joonmyun's routine.

think you can come here to check some of the material i need to send off tonight? Jongdae texts, and for a moment he feels like the roles are reversed, like he's the one seeking validation from Joonmyun and not the other way around. i need a second opinion. it's good but i'm not too happy about it at the moment.

i think you're exploiting the knowledge that i can clock out anytime, hyung c;
i can drop by before my gig? then you can dress me up and we can go to heaven together
i mean the club!!!

Jongdae snorts, rolling over so that he's lying on his stomach. sounds good. excited to go to heaven with you c:

i'll take you there
better buckle up for the ride c;

Joonmyun ends up humming the song the whole car ride to Heaven, shifting in his seat everytime they reach a red traffic light. "Private cars make me feel weird," he says out of the blue, and Jongdae stops counting down the seconds until the light turns green again, turning to his side to get a glimpse of Joonmyun's face.

"Only private ones? Cabs are fine?"

"Yeah. I ride cabs on a daily basis."

Jongdae waits for laughter because that's what Joonmyun uses to punctuate most of his sentences with, but tonight his lips are drawn to a thin line, and his eyes are sharp. He's abandoned the all-black attire and is wearing maroon tonight, and he looks a lot less pale now with the color lending a bit of warmth to his cheeks. It's like a marriage of old and new, and Joonmyun's stuck between the best of both worlds, stuck in limbo with his fixed on the car in front of them.

"You look like a robot. Do you have motion sickness?" Jongdae turns down the radio a little, then tapos Joonmyun's thigh when he doesn't earn a response. "I can drive slowly; you just have to ask."

"Nah, I'm good. It's just…" Joonmyun looks out of the window, then traces patterns on the glass. it won't hold. "It's almost Chuseok."

Jongdae holds his breath up until the light turns green again, and he takes the slightly more scenic route to Heaven. They have enough time.

Joonmyun is silent for the rest of the trip, only speaking up again when he excuses himself to head to the stage to prepare for his performance. "I'll be at the bar," Jongdae says, remembering that the sound still reaches that part of the club despite the roaming lights only reaching up until the dance floor. There's a short introduction before Joonmyun starts playing — he's alone again tonight, and he's got his loop pedal with him to keep him company on stage. The patrons of Heaven have always been generous with cheers and praise; no performer is truly alone once he steps on the platform.

He almost jumps in his seat when the crowd asks for an encore, and Joonmyun delivers, singing two more songs with the band performing next. The first is one of Joonmyun's originals, but the arrangement has been reworked a bit, a second layer of guitar and the light beats of the drums adding more depth to the melody of the song. Careful with the percussion, a voice at the back of Jongdae's mind says, and he simply laughs a little when he hears Joonmyun's vocals soar above the instrumentals.

It's almost Chuseok. Only three more months until auditions for The Voice begin, three more months until Joonmyun has already soaked up everything that he can possibly learn about singing properly and finding the right songs for his tone.

Joonmyun learns too quick. Jongdae wonders how long it would take for Joonmyun to unlearn him.

The second song starts with Joonmyun tapping his guitar, lightly at first then gaining cadence after four counts. "This kid's impossible," Jongdae mumbles under his breath, and he quickly grabs his drink, leaving the bar to witness the last song of Joonmyun's set.

Joonmyun's got the biggest smile on his lips. The members of the band are all at the side, and Joonmyun's left to his own devices again, just him and his voice and his guitar, the loop pedal adding a twist to the bland arrangement as he adds layer upon layer of light sounds that come together in one nice melody. Joonmyun steps forward, finally singing into the microphone, and Jongdae breaks out into a grin, a burning sensation at the corners of his lips as he bobs his head to the beat of the music.

The end of the performance is met with a round of applause, and the chit chat all around Jongdae dissolves as Joonmyun bows to the crowd. The crowd cheers for another set of songs, and this time Joonmyun laughs into the microphone, saying, "I'm all out of tricks now, sorry. We will see each other again, Heaven!"

"That was some show out there," Jongdae says once Joonmyun arrives at the bar. The smile on his lips is loose and relaxed, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. There isn't a trace of the furrow of his eyebrows anymore. Jongdae pats the seat beside his, and Joonmyun laughs a little in response.

"I was feeling a bit adventurous," Joonmyun confesses. He turns to the bartender and orders a Long Island, then snatches Jongdae's glass of whiskey to take a small sip. "How was it?"

"Good, because you actually didn't use the drumbeats. Good that you're listening to your teacher." Jongdae ends with a wink, and Joonmyun simply shakes his head. The roaming lights catch on the edges of Joonmyun's hair, and for a moment Joonmyun seems as if he's glowing, the light in his eyes as he tilts his head and gives Jongdae a long look brighter than ever.

"They say it's my special skill, listening." Joonmyun takes another sip. "It takes a lot of practice."

Jongdae snatches his glass back. He's driving tonight, and he can't afford to be too reckless if he isn't planning to get a cab home. He can put Joonmyun in a cab in Cheongdam; at least Jongdae is sure that the neighborhood there is friendlier, and it's nearer to Apgeujong than Heaven is.

"Mine's selective hearing," Jongdae quips. "When you're an idol, you have to learn to tune out a lot of voices."

"Until the only one that matters stands out?"

Jongdae rests the glass back down on the counter. "There are some stubborn ones that weasel their way inside, y'know? Tiny voices, ones that come with a guitar riff."

Joonmyun's drink is finally served, and he runs his thumb along the length of the glass. "Sneaky," Joonmyun comments, and Jongdae simply laughs into the glass, completely forgetting that he can't hide his smile behind it. Joonmyun's voice is already whispery as it is, and the hiphop beats simply drown it out all the more, so Jongdae moves closer until their knees bump and their elbows graze each other. It sends a sliver of electricity up his arm.

"Tell me, then," Joonmyun begins after a while, then shifts in his seat so that they're facing each other. "Whatever you want to say. If you need someone to listen, then I'm your man."

My best friend's getting married in two days. It's the easiest way to say it — no tricks, no frills, the way it has always been between him and Baekhyun. Baekhyun makes everything feel so easy, makes things come too easy — the light upward tug on the corners of Jongdae's lips, the way Jongdae's chin just fits there when he rests it on Baekhyun's shoulder. He's getting married and everyone's moving on and I keep moving backwards. Kyungsoo's on an Asia concert tour and he's living the life Jongdae had once wanted for himself, living the life Jongdae had made for him.

Jongdae takes a deep breath, then a sip of his drink. "Baekhyun's getting married in two days."

"Oh." Joonmyun places his glass on the counter and turns to his side completely, his knees now digging into Jongdae's thigh. "Are you..." He licks his lips then worries them, then tilts his head to the side. "Are you going to be part of the ceremony?"

Jongdae laughs a little. "I'm the best man. No one else would accept the job." He snorts, then scratches the back of his neck. "More like he forced it upon me. I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice, hyung," Joonmyun says now. He rests his palm flat on Jongdae's thigh. Jongdae can feel the surge of warmth and the tingling sensation creeping up his nape; it's makes his stomach turn. It's unsettling. People don't always have a choice, he wants to tell Joonmyun. Sometimes, you're just put on the spot and a situation is shoved in your face, and you're only given five seconds to react. So you go with what you've grown accustomed to — a smile, light laughter, the word 'yes' dripping from your lips. It's not as if he hadn't tried to put up a fight when Baekhyun asked — "Are you seriously going to kill me, Baekhyunnie—" "Stop it, Jongdae." Baekhyun had just been the more stubborn one, and Jongdae had been relenting.

Jongdae takes a deep breath. "And I've chosen to make him happy."

Joonmyun presses his lips thinly, a small smile at the corners of his lips. He gives Jongdae's thigh a light squeeze, then he turns in his seat again, facing front now. Jongdae closes his eyes, letting the beats of the dance music fill his senses, but it's Joonmyun's voice that stands out. It's Joonmyun's voice that rings in his ears and plays like a broken record. "You deserve to be happy, too, you know," Joonmyun says after a while, and Jongdae opens his eyes — slowly, fighting the pull of alcohol — and turns to face Joonmyun.

Happiness isn't a leisure he has. His own happiness is not his decision to make.

Jongdae drops by Baekhyun's place and claims ownership over Baekhyun's place, insisting that they take Baekhyun's car to Busan since it's your party, anyway. "It would have been great if Soo could make it, you know," Baekhyun says now, eyes not leaving the road. He takes a sharp right turn, cursing when a car nearly cuts him from the right, and Jongdae simply laughs.

"Sunyoung's gonna kill you if you keep driving like that."

Baekhyun snorts. "I'm a better driver than she is. She's in good hands."

Joonmyun's morning greeting had been, sorry, i wasn't able to text. i crashed as soon as i got home :c; the second installment was, i'm alive, though. hope you'll have a great day, hyung! There hadn't been any stickers after that, nor had there been anything else, so Jongdae turns up the radio in the hope of catching a good enough song to recommend to Joonmyun, or to at least talk to him about.

"I heard from Taeng-noona that you brought the kid to the company one time." Baekhyun steps on the brakes, then shifts in his seat as he turns to Jongdae. "How's that coming along?"

Jason Mraz starts singing on the radio — it's one of the songs he'd heard Joonmyun humming a few days back, as he got dressed and Jongdae tried to remedy the fashion disaster. Joonmyun's tone suits Mraz's songs well, but he has to be extra careful with the low notes — Mraz has an excellent range, and Joonmyun will need to practice more if he wants to be anything like him.

"He's good," Jongdae replies, then fishes for his phone from his pocket. have you ever considered doing "i'm coming over"? Jongdae types in the chat box, then hits send as soon as he's done. "Great deal of improvement, actually. I've been attending a lot of his gigs—"

"Oh? So that's what you've been doing with your spare time."

Spare time— Half the time, he's in the studio, working on a couple of tracks that can be for anyone — sometimes, he thinks about Taeyeon's voice and how it would go well with Jonghyun's, then there are times when he thinks of finally choking up enough courage to write a song for Boa. Jaejoong's voice still rings in his ears from time to time, but mostly it's been Joonmyun's voice that's there, an extended stay in his mind, and every song he hears on the radio starts to sound a lot like Joonmyun singing with his trusty guitar and his loop pedal.

"I play the role of the amazing best man, too," Jongdae retorts, punching Baekhyun lightly on the arm. "I'm good at time management."

"Sure you are," is all that Baekhyun says. A message from Joonmyun comes in — i tried. really hard, accompanied by a recording. i did this a long time ago. don't judge!!

i'll listen to this later. best man duties, he replies, then wiggles his toes in his shoes. "I'm also good at keeping it in, you know, when the call of nature is—"

"Jongdae—"

They soon reach a red light, and Baekhyun launches a few punches, jabbing Jongdae on the arm. The light pain doesn't numb his limbs, but it does send a weird sensation to the pit of his stomach. He waits for it — the tingling feeling at the tips of his fingers, the shivers running down his spine, but he gets none of these even when he looks up to take in all of Baekhyun's laughter, the sweet voice he'd once come to live with and live on during his darkest times.

Three short beeps, and the radio plays another song. Jongdae unlocks his phone and laughs a little at Joonmyun's messages.

say it: you don't have faith in my abilities!
kidding, hyung!! have a great day. please extend my congratulations to baekhyun-ssi c:
and hyung? good luck c:

Baekhyun's alcohol tolerance is passable, at best, but if there's anyone who's laughable at best, it has to be Chanyeol. Halfway through his fourth bottle of beer sees Chanyeol dancing on top of the table, and Jonghyun armed with his phone. Jinki and Minho are on the floor, beads of tears forming at the corners of their eyes, and Jongdae hasn't surfaced from laughing just yet, arms wrapped around himself and face buried in a pillow.

"You'd think that he's gotten better with all the practice he's had," Baekhyun says now, long after Chanyeol has finally succumbed to the call of fatigue and has curled up beside Minho on the couch. "Pity Boa-noona couldn't pass on her superior drinking skills to him."

"A mentor can only do so much," Jongdae replies, then takes a sip of his own beer. He'd confined himself to just soju earlier, saying that he hated the aftertaste of beer, but the soju had been depleted way too fast — Jinki was the culprit, but he was the last to fall prey to it and eventually into a state of inebriation. "I think Kyungsoo's a better drinker than I am. I don't even know how that's possible."

Baekhyun snorts. "Confession time: I think he sings better than you do." Jongdae raises an eyebrow at him, and Baekhyun soon doubles over in laughter, but promptly hides his grin behind his hand. "Whoops. Sorry. You can maim me tonight if you don't want me to get married tomorrow—"

Funny you should say that, Jongdae says in his mind. Baekhyun has never been the most careful with his words, always stumbling on the rehearsed spiel and somehow getting himself and the group he used to be in in trouble, but he manages to salvage himself, somehow. Two things about Baekhyun appeal to the masses — his voice, and his spontaneity. The first has garnered him a lot of fans who stayed long after the group's disbandment, even until now that he's hosting and no longer singing. The second has garnered him friends and foes alike. It has also nearly gotten him and Jongdae into trouble too many times — all those chaste kisses behind curtains and in between practices, in rooftops and staircases. My gut's smarter than my brain, so I listen to it all the time, Baekhyun always says. It's been wrong a few times, but I can't say I haven't enjoyed all those experiences.

"I still wonder, y'know, how you managed to convince Sunyoung that this whole marriage thing was a good idea."

Baekhyun looks around them — Jonghyun had disappeared to Lord knows where, but Jongdae's not too worried — they've found Jonghyun sleeping in the bathroom before, and he'd only complained about aching muscles the morning after. Jinki's lying flat on the floor, and Chanyeol's scrambling for space while Minho's curling up on whatever's free space is left on the couch. "Outside?" Baekhyun says, cocking his head in the direction of the veranda, and Jongdae follows suit, bottle still in hand.

The wind has gotten much colder from all those rainy days. Seoul at two in the morning has never been the friendliest, not with people who aren't fond of cool winds, and Jongdae scrunches his nose when the breeze blows at them again. "You asked… how I managed to con Sunyoung into doing this with me," Baekhyun begins, then turns around so that he's leaning on the railing. The wind tousles his hair, and his cheeks are still flush with all the alcohol he's had. "That was easy. I just told her I had a crazy idea and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with the person who'd gotten me out of my worst slump ever. You're asking the wrong question."

Jongdae laughs a little. Baekhyun doesn't have the best sense of literature when it comes to expressing himself, but trust him to say what he means and nothing else. Baekhyun's honesty has always been something Jongdae has envied, has wanted to have, but that kind of honesty takes time, too. It takes training and guts and a different brand of confidence. Jongdae doesn't have that; it's too late to teach an old dog new tricks.

Baekhyun moves closer. Their arms brush. Baekhyun is so warm, just what Jongdae needs with the cold breeze around them. He tightens his grip on his bottle. "Come on, Jongdae. Ask another question."

"Hmmm." Jongdae worries his bottom lip, then lifts his eyes to meet Baekhyun's own. "I don't know, man. I'm too buzzed." He scrunches his nose, and Baekhyun only moves closer. He can feel Baekhyun's knuckles digging into his skin, and if he ever decides to slip his fingers between the pads of Baekhyun's hands, he can always blame it on the alcohol. "Why… Why hadn't it been us?"

Baekhyun chuckles, then pushes himself away from the railings. He's standing in front of Jongdae now, a bottle in one hand, the other freely hanging in his side. Ten, eleven years back, Jongdae would have easily just grumbled something in response to Baekhyun telling him that he's wrong, and Baekhyun would have appeased him by tugging on his wrist and pulling him close for a kiss. Years ago, it would have been easy to find a comfortable fit in Baekhyun's arms, would have been easy to think of stealing five minutes from each other, bodies pressed against each other in the dark, the open press of the mouth wet and warm. But they're much older now, and they no longer have the leisure of playing around, pushing each other against the wall to ask for a few minutes of respite and a kiss. Baekhyun's getting married tomorrow, and Sunyoung would probably be the most beautiful woman Jongdae has ever seen, and Jongdae is Baekhyun's best man.

"Because neither of us had the balls to actually define what we were back then." Baekhyun exhales loudly then wraps his arms around himself, quickly seething when he feels the cool press of the bottle on his skin. "And we had different dreams then, the two of us. We were working towards two different things."

"Two different things," Jongdae echoes, voice drifting off into laughter. He has gone through the same rigorous program as Baekhyun, has promoted in the same shows, has even shared the same style with Baekhyun at one point of his career, shortly after Baekhyun had gone solo. They've spent every Seollal and Chuseok together for the past three years — they have the same dreams. They're both working towards being the best idols they can ever be, music icons of Korea that people will never forget. "What do you mean we had different dreams?"

"You… didn't know what you really wanted then," Baekhyun says now. He's rubbing his hands up and down his arms, and Jongdae chokes down the urge to wrap his arms around Baekhyun. "I've only wanted one thing since I was young, and that was to perform in front of people. So I did exactly that. I grew tired of that after a while and it turns out my vocal chords did, too." He's chuckling now, but he sounds hoarse, the constant blowing of the cold wind wrapping around his neck like a vice. "And then I had a thing for you, so I figured I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but you were all, no, we're idols, we've got an image to maintain. We can't give up what we've worked so hard for—"

"Okay, okay, I get it." Jongdae slaps Baekhyun on the arm, and Baekhyun nearly topples over. "But I did that for us. If we did try to work things out, maybe we won't even be here anymore."

Baekhyun snorts, an eyebrow raised. "And you'd know because? You've always put your idol dreams in front of what your heart wants, Jongdae. And look at you now — dragging your ass to your idol job and complaining that you don't get enough rest and sex life or whatever. Fine, you asked for a break, but you're still working your ass off while helping other people out." Baekhyun does a pirouette, but he slams his foot into the railing, falling into Jongdae's arms. Baekhyun's quick to recover and to get back to his feet, but Jongdae can still feel the sting of Baekhyun's warmth on his skin. "You don't have to make yourself miserable all the time just to see other people happy, you know."

"I think it's a price I have to pay." His mind goes back to that Seollal, the road trip he was supposed to have with his parents and his brother, how he'd cancelled on the very last minute because his manager called him and said that he needed to promote his new song at Chocolate, sorry for the short notice, but you have to do this show. "The one time I could actually give up work, that I actually had to give it up, I didn't. And I let my family die in a stupid car accident and lived to tell the tale."

"Can you even hear yourself? Dae—" Baekhyun shakes him, lightly at first, and then much harder the second and third time. His mind is spinning from the alcohol and the jerking motion, and the memories of the family he'd left in favor of a fucking TV guesting for just one song, and Baekhyun's hands are warm on his shoulder. Baekhyun's words cut like glass, though. "That was years ago. Heck they died even before halmeoni did and I've gotten over that!"

Jongdae snorts, poking Baekhyun is his side until Baekhyun lets his hands fall to his sides. "Because you had Sunyoung — she helped you deal with the loss."

Baekhyun takes a step back, the scowl he'd once had on softening around the edges. "You helped me get through the loss. She helped me get over it. But not without helping myself, too, you know." Baekhyun gives him a few pats on the arm, and Jongdae can feel the wind blowing again. It's gotten much colder without Baekhyun pressed to his side, but then— "Help yourself; then, it will be easier for other people to help you."

Jongdae lets out a loud exhale, and he punches Baekhyun lightly on the cheek, careful not to leave any bruises. Baekhyun has a different challenge to tackle tomorrow, a new dream to work towards. Jongdae will help him get there. "Since when have you gotten so wise, hmm?"

Baekhyun gives him a long look before snaking an arm around Jongdae's shoulder. The familiar warmth in his side is comforting, and when Baekhyun rests his head on Jongdae's shoulder, he can feel the tension in his muscles disappearing along with the blowing wind.

"Ever since, big shot." Jongdae elbows Baekhyun, and Baekhyun doesn't suppress the cackle that slips from his lips. "Ever since."

Jongdae lies flat on his back, earbuds plugged and connected to his phone. He pulls up a playlist of recordings, then adds a new one — Joonmyun's recording of 93 Million Miles — closing his eyes after hitting shuffle. The soft melody is soothing, and Joonmyun's sweet voice — the high notes and the low ones, even the ones where his voice cracks a little — drape over him like a blanket, easing the tension in his muscles and lulling him to sleep.

Baekhyun bawls like a kid at the wedding. Jonghyun manages to capture it on video, but not without having his fair share of tears. At one point, Jonghyun hands over the camera to Taeyeon who's having a harder time keeping it together whenever he sees Jonghyun's tear-stained cheeks, and Jongdae simply smiles at them, then reaches over to where Baekhyun is just before Sunyoung emerges from the doors.

"Live the dream, kid," Jongdae whispers, and Baekhyun's half-smiling, half-trying not to cry when he turns to Jongdae and punches him lightly on the arm.

The biggest surprise of the wedding is when Kyungsoo shows up at the reception, hair slicked back and a huge, apologetic smile on his lips.

It's Jongdae who first catches sight of him all the way from the far end of the hall, and Kyungsoo speeds past him as he makes his way to where Baekhyun and Sunyoung are. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the ceremony. My flight was delayed," he says, and Baekhyun simply waves it off, giving him a one-armed hug as Sunyoung laughs at him.

Jongdae walks up to the group and rests a hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder. "I'll take care of the guest," he tells Baekhyun, winking, and ushers Kyungsoo to the side, leading him to the buffet table.

Kyungsoo hasn't changed much — he's still small and he still wears his hair black, but there are dark circles under his eyes now, and his cheeks have sort of hollowed out. He isn't stick-thin, but he looks smaller than he had been in the past. Don't be silly; people stop growing at the age of 21, Kyungsoo will probably tell him if he ever says it out loud, so he stays silent, only looking over his shoulder occasionally to check if Kyungsoo hasn't run off somewhere else.

"I can find the buffet table by my own, hyung," Kyungsoo finally says, chuckling. Jongdae can see the corners of his lips lift, his eyes softening. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"Anymore," Jongdae echoes. He waits for Kyungsoo to reach his side, then pulls him close to ruffle Kyungsoo's hair. "You'll always be my baby."

Kyungsoo looks at him, just looks at him, with his large eyes and his gaze that can cut him wide open at first glance. There's a question written in the way he furrows his eyebrows, in the way he quirks his lips and darts out his tongue. "Yours?" Kyungsoo asks, then scoffs as he walks a little past Jongdae. His arms feel heavy on his sides, like Kyungsoo has transferred some of the weight of his heavy stare on them. "I don't think so."

Kyungsoo has begun walking off now, so Jongdae quickens his pace, trying to catch up. Kyungsoo has always been like this — quick to move, quick to react, quick to walk away from situations that make him feel uneasy, and Jongdae has to try his hardest to keep up with him, be it through a verse or by reaching out to slips his hand in Kyungsoo's. "You came from my hypothetical womb, Kyungsoo! Technically, you're only three years old!" He quickly clasps a hand over his mouth when he realizes that his voice is at least an octave higher and can cut through all the noise, if he wanted to, and Kyungsoo simply shakes his head, steps much larger now despite his short legs.

He stops in his tracks, almost falling on all fours when Kyungsoo abruptly stops in front of him. He holds onto Kyungsoo's shoulders for balance and Kyungsoo lets him, but only how a while — soon, Kyungsoo is shrugging off his hold, torso twisted in preparation of getting back on his journey to where the food is. "Don't say things you don't mean, hyung," Kyungsoo says when he looks over his shoulder.

"Can you at least get me a pop tart?"

Kyungsoo hasn't slowed down from his walk, and Jongdae only get a raised middle finger as a reply.

Baekhyun and Sunyoung are already dancing when Kyungsoo slips beside Jongdae, taking the seat beside his. Most of the kids have joined the couple, and some of their common friends have either gone out for a smoke or have shuffled to the side to take pictures. Jongdae has already had his fair share, and his body is still suffering from too much alcohol the night before. "Here's your pop tart," Kyungsoo says, handing him the small treat, and Jongdae simply laughs when he takes it.

"You didn't squish it with your tiny hands? Were you holding it the whole time?"

"Don't be silly, hyung. I ate the one I took earlier; I just got another one for you." Kyungsoo moves closer, and Jongdae can feel the warm press of Kyungsoo's thigh against his. "I may be a snob but I'm not that bad."

"Just a runt," Jongdae comments. He bumps his shoulder into Kyungsoo's, and Kyungsoo erupts into a peal of giggles, contained only when Jongdae elbows him in his side, and then again, and again, and Kyungsoo fights back by stomping on his foot, to which someone they both don't know tells them, "Are you twelve?"

"I'd love to be young again," Jongdae mumbles when the lady is well out of sight. Baekhyun looks as if he wants to give up now and just take a seat, legs sore and overworked, but Sunyoung hasn't expended all of her energy just yet. Baekhyun's relenting, always generous when it comes to Sunyoung's requests, and despite fatigue pulling his shoulders down, there's still a smile at the corners of his lips. "Kids have it easier. No need to worry about all the adult things."

"That's because you worry about anything and everything," Kyungsoo replies. His eyes are fixed on the dance floor, and occasionally he follows the spotlights with his gaze. Kyungsoo hasn't lost that yet, his fascination for light, and the faintest smile surfaces on his lips when the red and yellow spotlights meet halfway. "Only one of us can be miserable, hyung. And that certainly shouldn't be you."

Jongdae leans back in his seat, and he throws his head back as he closes his eyes. Kyungsoo's steady breathing has always been oddly comforting, and even with all the noise around them, it soars above all other sounds. He can feel Kyungsoo's hand on his knee, the warmth seeping through his dress slacks, and he parts his lips, like if he doesn't say something right now, he'll never be able to ever again.

"Is there someone?" he asks. Kyungsoo's grip on his knee tightens, then eases after a while. "Is there anyone you're seeing right now?"

Kyungsoo's nails graze his thigh as Kyungsoo drops his hand to his side. He opens his eyes a little, keeping his defenses just halfway up. Beside him, Kyungsoo laughs, and he can hear a bit of Kyungsoo's youth there, the same kid he'd recruited to be in his team, the person who almost won him first place in The Voice. He clenches and unclenches his fists. "Idols don't get the leisure of being reckless," Kyungsoo says after a while. "Or maybe I do, but I just don't… want to ruin this moment, not now."

"Not even a short-time thing? A 'let's get wild and crazy and make out backstage' kind of thing?" Jongdae chuckles. "Everybody has those, to spice up their—"

"Hyung." Kyungsoo's sitting up now, body facing Jongdae, and Jongdae can feel Kyungsoo's knees digging into his thigh. Kyungsoo's lips are drawn to a thin, thin line, but there's the hint of a smile there, a light curl at the corners. It has always been hard to read Kyungsoo when his shields are up, but there's nothing but fatigue and three long years between them scrawled on Kyungsoo's features. "I'm… okay. That's about it. My job makes me feel alive. I haven't killed any of the staff yet." He snorts, and Jongdae finds himself chuckling in accord. Kyungsoo has a weird way of expressing himself sometimes. "It's a pretty good place to be in right now, this… state of contentment."

"Contentment?" Jongdae folds one leg under his thigh, twisting his torso so that he can see Kyungsoo's face better. "Sounds like you're settling."

"Contentment is a choice, just like happiness." Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, and when he exhales the tight-lipped smile dissipates, now replaced with a softer smile. "A tough choice, but it's better than choosing to be miserable."

You don't have to make yourself miserable all the time just to see other people happy, you know.

Jongdae gives the pop tart in his hand a long look, then turns back to Kyungsoo, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "A tough decision for tough cookie like you," he says, crooning, and he retracts his hand even before Kyungsoo can swat it away, before Kyungsoo can have a chance to reel him back in and leave scars on his arm like he'd done years ago.

Help yourself; then, it will be easier for other people to help you, he hears Baekhyun saying at the back of his mind. He fishes his phone from his pocket and smiles when he sees three KKT notifications, all with Joonmyun's name on them.

Seoul doesn't make it easy for nighttime drivers to make their way from one place to another. Bucheon's streets are easy to navigate at night, but Cheongdam's much too far away, a two-hour drive that feels twice as long on the limbs. Jongdae pulls up his driving playlist to keep him awake, but it's Joonmyun's voice recordings that get him through most on the drive home.

He tumbles into his bed as soon as he strips of his suit, and curls up in the middle, phone clutched to his chest as the last few notes of Joonmyun's song play. you still up? he texts Joonmyun after a while, and it takes under a minute for Joonmyun to reply.

yeah, i'm good to talk. what's up, hyung? c:

He normally wouldn't call people past nine in the evening, but his mind is much too clouded with Baekhyun's and Kyungsoo's voices, a cacophony that sometimes interrupts Joonmyun's slow humming in his head. It's been easier to drown out while he was still in Bucheon, talking to people left and right, but now, in the silence of his room with nothing but the white noise to fill his ears, there's nothing to keep him from hearing the dissonance again and again.

He takes a deep breath, then dials Joonmyun's number, pressing his phone close to his ear as he waits for the dial tone to be replaced with a familiar voice.

"Hyung?" Some static in the background, then, "You're… calling."

"Yeah, I just—" Jongdae rolls over, lying flat on his back, and he grabs one of the pillows nearby to hug it close to his chest. "Tell me about your day? Have you been working again? It's the weekend, Joonmyun; you should getting some—"

On the other end of the line, Joonmyun chuckles. It sends a familiar sizzle of heat down his stomach, and Jongdae wants to hang up and curl in on himself again, throw the covers over his head and try to drown out Baekhyun and Kyungsoo's voices in his head. That, and the sinking sensation in his stomach that each and every sound Joonmyun makes gives him. "You're rambling. Are you okay?," Joonmyun asks, and for a moment Jongdae's thankful that Joonmyun can't see him burying his face in the sheets.

"Just talk, Joonmyun." He worries bottom lip, suddenly all too aware of the silence on the other end of the line, and he feels a surge of heat rush to his cheeks when he hears Joonmyun's light laughter. "Please, Joonmyunnie?"

"Ah…" Joonmyun takes a deep breath. "Well… My day wasn't that exciting. I mean…" He does that small noise, the half-amused, half-shy one, and he hums a little before he continues, "I work at a hagwon. I mean I own one, so… What do you want me to teach you?"

Jongdae laughs a little. "Anything but music?" He pushes himself off the bed so he can sit, back against the pillow resting near the headboard. "Because I know more about that than you do."

"Won't that be a great test to see if you've been an effective teacher, though?"

Jongdae rolls his eyes, and he doesn't have to press his ear even closer to hear Joonmyun laughing. He's got that sound filed in his mind, a melody he's come to find comforting at weird, odd moments. "Then you'll have to sing me to sleep," Jongdae teases, and Joonmyun only laughs harder, his voice reaching that sweet high note that haunts Jongdae even in his sleep.

"What do you want me to start with then?"

"Anything. I just…" Jongdae takes a deep breath and sinks into the pillow. "I just want to hear your voice."

Jongdae can't make out the faint sound at the other end of the line, but Joonmyun starts humming a few seconds after, singing a song that Jongdae recognizes from the set Joonmyun had performed in ZZYZX. He closes his eyes, imagining Joonmyun playing the guitar, fingers strumming the strings and plucking from time to time. He imagines the way Joonmyun tilts his head just slightly when he hits a high note, imagines the slow upward tug at the corners of Joonmyun's lips, the gentle slope of the bridge of his nose. The smooth curve of his face and the stretch of his neck and how soft his skin had been when Jongdae accidentally-on purpose brushed his hand against Joonmyun's skin.

Jongdae sings the last few lines with Joonmyun, taking his voice one octave lower as their voices blend into one solid tune.

He takes a deep breath and smiles.

Chuseok draws dangerously nearer, and by the end of the first week of September the winds starts blowing harder, a cool blanket wrapping around Jongdae when he slips out of his car to give Baekhyun and Sunyoung a tight hug before seeing them off. The sun is up high and his shirt sticks to his back, but Baekhyun lets his hand linger on the thin veil of clothing keeping their skins from making contact.

"You two give me a call or text when you get there, okay?" he says, then waves at the two, a newly wedded couple out to conquer even greater challenges.

"Yeah, yeah, we will." Baekhyun jabs Jongdae on the arm, and Jongdae chokes down the tiny yelp that almost escapes his lips. "Don't spend the whole of Chuseok worrying about us, okay?"

"I won't think about you at all!" Jongdae calls out, and they both disappear into the corner, luggages in tow.

The past three Chuseok celebrations have been spent finishing new album tracks for his comeback, but he'd asked Joonmyun if he had plans for the next three days and Joonmyun had said, as if it was obvious, "Do I look like a person who actually has enough time to do something on Chuseok?" Taking a break is mandatory if you're not working in the service industry, though, and Jongdae ends up inviting Joonmyun to do something on Chuseok. He'll work out the specifics later.

The agreement was to meet in Hongdae to catch brunch at Organic, but Joonmyun had called to say he had something to fix in the Apgeujong office before he could fully put his mind at ease. "Just let me know when you're already in the area," Joonmyun had said, and Jongdae asked for the exact address, knowing all too well that in Joonmyun's current state, he'd give it away without question.

So three in the afternoon finds him walking down the streets of Apgeujong, crossing a few familiar coffee shops he'd once hung out at when he was much younger, when he was still fresh from debuting. Joonmyun's office shouldn't be far off, and when he spots a tall, yellow building in the midst of all the low-rise ones and the small cafes, he walks in its direction without a second thought.

He takes the elevator to the third floor, letting out an exhale as the doors open. The signage in front of him reads "Ecclus Learning Center". He double-checks, pulling up the text from Joonmyun, then smoothes out his top when he confirms that he's in the right place. He then presses the buzzer, and a man who doesn't look much older than Joonmyun answers the door.

"Um, does a Kim Joonmyun work here?" Jongdae asks, taking a step closer. The place looks smaller than the average hagwon from the outside, but soon Jongdae catches sight of a passageway and he's thoroughly convinced that, like Joonmyun, this place has a couple of tricks up its sleeve.

"Ah, Joonmyun's working on a couple of documents at the moment." The man smiles at him, then gestures for him to take a seat. "I'll let him know he has a visitor, though. Can I get your name, please?"

"Kim— Jongdae—" comes a voice from behind the man who has welcomed him. "You're Kim Jongdae, right? The singer from SM Entertainment?"

Jongdae laughs a little, and he briefly forgets that there is standard idol behavior to be followed. This isn't Joonmyun, or Baekhyun or Kyungsoo, people Jongdae has known for a while already, people who have seen past Jongdae's prim and proper idol front and have left a mark in Jongdae's life with the voices that haunt him day and night. "Yes, that's right," he simply says, then wears his best smile as he extends a hand in the newcomer's direction. "It's nice to meet—"

"Hyung?" A more familiar voice this time, and Jongdae stands from his seat, the corners of his lips tugging up automatically. "I told you I'll just meet you somewhere! You didn't need to—"

Jongdae had expected a different kind of Joonmyun — maybe one in a more formal attire, a better-fitted blazer, hair brushed to the sides — but the Joonmyun right in front of him isn't any different from the one he has seen performing in Blue Moon and Heaven and ZZYZX, the same Joonmyun whose voice sets the staccato of his heartbeats in one fluid melody. "I was getting impatient," he reasons out, grinning, and Joonmyun just shakes his head and exhales loudly.

"So this is the same Jongdae—"

"Yes, hyung," Joonmyun tells the man smaller than the other. Jongdae doesn't know why there's collective laughter, but Joonmyun gives the two a stern look and the taller man bites his bottom lip in an attempt to suppress his laughter. "Oh, uh, Jongdae-hyung—" Joonmyun tugs at his wrist, and he takes a step closer. "These are some of the teachers here in the hagwon. This is Kim Minseok. Best math teacher around. This tall kid over here is Kim Jongin. He… is the unassuming physics wizard."

"It's all the soccer going on in his brain," Minseok whispers, and Jongdae chuckles in response. "Nice to finally meet you, Kim Jongdae-ssi. Joonmyunnie speaks highly of you."

Joonmyunnie. Jongdae feels his throat tighten. "Highly and fondly," Jongin quips, and the tension in Jongdae's throat eases just a little.

"Okay, that's enough. You two still have to finish the syllabus for next week." Joonmyun ushers them back inside the main hall of the hagwon, eyes narrowed at Jongin as Jongin whispers something and bursts into a peal of laughter. Minseok gives him one last wave, then snakes an arm around Jongin's shoulder as they walk straight ahead, then split at the end of the corridor. "I still can't believe you're actually here. I mean…" Joonmyun turns to him now, eyes fixed on the floor, and Jongdae watches as Joonmyun worries his bottom lip, trapping it between his teeth.

The curl at the corners of Joonmyun's lips is pretty. Jongdae takes a step forward, and Joonmyun finally looks up.

"Sorry, I just…" Jongdae laughs a little. He scratches the back of his ear a little, and he can feel a rush of heat to his cheeks. "I wanted to see you in your natural habitat, I guess?"

Joonmyun snorts, a small sound that isn't anything like his soft, soothing voice. "Habitat? I'm not an animal, hyung."

"You're a teeny, tiny cat. A fluffy cat." Jongdae turns on his heel even before he can see his reflection just behind Joonmyun, on the metal surface. "Ready to go?"

"Just… gonna get my bags and leave the keys with Minseok-hyung." He can hear Joonmyun giggling, and he briefly wonders if Joonmyun can see right through him. "I'll be back in a while."

"Yeah, sure." Jongdae rubs the tip of his nose and stays rooted where he is. He can't wipe the crazy grin off his lips yet. "I'll be waiting."

The trip to Gangeung takes a little over three hours, and Joonmyun falls asleep on his shoulder halfway through the bus trip, a book in his right hand and his left hand warm on Jongdae's lap. Joonmyun had stolen one of Jongdae's earbuds earlier, and Jongdae becomes more conscious of the music playing in their ears when he feels the weight on his right arm shift.

He skips a few fast songs and puts his 'rainy days' playlist on shuffle. He can feel Joonmyun nuzzling his arm. He keeps his head hung low, face buried in Joonmyun's bright blond hair. He smells like coffee and mint and the pages of a book, but then Jongdae hasn't touched a real book in a while; maybe Joonmyun just smells like Joonmyun, and his voice is like a warm quilt wrapped around him on a cool winter afternoon.

He wakes up with a tiny jerk of the body when he feels someone holding his other hand, and it takes a few blinks to register that Joonmyun's reaching over to take control of the music. "Not feeling the slow songs?" he asks, voice still sticky with sleep, and Joonmyun shakes his head weakly, craning his neck until their noses bump.

"There's a fine line between boring and slow, hyung," Joonmyun teases, but he chokes on the last syllable and Jongdae finds himself laughing. There's a kid sitting opposite them, too busy with his DS, and there's a couple a few seats away, and Joonmyun's lips look so inviting in the soft afternoon light, and Joonmyun's holding onto his wrist tightly, his free hand snatching the iPod from Jongdae's grasp.

"Sneaky," Jongdae says, seething, but his speech dissolves into laughter when Joonmyun sticks out his tongue.

"Oh, hyung—" Joonmyun stops, then turns to him with a peculiar smile. He hasn't spend that much time in the daylight with Joonmyun yet, but he finds himself slowly growing fond of this smile, favoring it over the sly, teasing ones Joonmyun gives him when they're in the club and they're doing an assessment of Joonmyun's performance. Slowly, Joonmyun draws the iPod closer to Jongdae, flashing a series of songs in a playlist. "Really? You have these songs here?"

Jongdae remembers transferring the recordings from his phone to his iPod so he can play them in his car whenever he goes out for a drive. He remembers laughing at himself silly while syncing it and everytime he loads the playlist, remembers Joonmyun's expectant smile whenever he sits down with Jongdae after a performance. "I put those there so I can… study your voice better," he mumbles, and Joonmyun looks up at him, crinkles forming at the corners of his mouth as he bites hard on his lower lip.

They arrive at the terminal just as the playlist ends, and they transfer to bus 202, alighting only at the very last station. Joonmyun nearly hits Jongdae with his backpack when he tries wearing it on his back, and Jongdae sneaks a photo just before Joonmyun looks over his shoulder to see if Jongdae has already caught up. "You look extra tiny with that backpack you're wearing," Jongdae says between small fits of laughter, and Joonmyun pouts at him, bottom lip jutted and eyes squinted as he slaps Jongdae lightly on the arm.

They take a quick cab ride to check in their bags, then walk all the way to Gyeongpo Beach, a little under ten minutes from where their hotel is. It's almost five in the afternoon when they arrive, and the crowd has begun to thin when they set foot on the beach. The sand is warm the waters are calm, and steady blowing of the wind lifts some of the tension in Jongdae's muscles that travel has left there. "I haven't been on a trip recently, definitely not on Chuseok," Joonmyun says, and Joonmyun bends his knees, then sits on the sand.

He pats the space beside him and Jongdae follows suit, legs extended in front of him as they watch the waves crash to the shore.

The companionable silence stretches for another thirty minutes, and Joonmyun sinks into the sand, closing his eyes as he lets the warmth engulf him. "I'm glad we took a bus to Gangneung," Joonmyun says after a while. Jongdae shifts, turning in Joonmyun's direction, and he catches Joonmyun wiggling his fingers. "If you drove us all the way to the hotel, it probably would have been torture."

"You hate private cars that much? Jeez…" Jongdae waits for the perfunctory slap on the arm or a pinch, but Joonmyun stays still, breathing even and measured.

"I lost my parents to a car crash on Chuseok, around six years ago." Jongdae inches closer, and Joonmyun opens his eyes for a while, then raises his right hand in front of him, fingers spread out. "And then, two years ago, I was supposed to go on a trip with a good friend and he… he got into an accident."

"Still alive?"

"Barely," Joonmyun quickly answers. The laughter that spills from his lips is dry. "It was a pretty stupid move, though. I told him not to drink because I knew he was driving and that it was going to be a long drive, but he still kept at it, and he was supposed to pick me up after work and then he got into this really nasty crash—"

"You don't have to continue if you don't have to, you know," Jongdae whispers. He cocks his head, eyes now fixed on Joonmyun, and from where he is Joonmyun looks years older, all the youth in his eyes swallowed by the sand.

"Nah, it's— I'm okay, it's been two years. And he's… changed. I can barely recognize him." He brings his hand down, resting it atop Jongdae's own. Joonmyun's fingers are cold in contrast with the sand, but the familiar warmth begins to surface on his lips again. "Being sad gets really draining after a while. I can't afford to be sullen in front of students."

"The books drain them enough as it is," Jongdae comments, and Joonmyun finally chuckles. His eyes disappear into half-moon crescents. Jongdae sighs.

They have dinner at a restaurant nearby, where the sand meets the shore, and Joonmyun makes the funniest sounds as he tries to crack a crab open and only ends up chipping off a bit of the shell. "There's a reason why I hate seafood!" he squeals, and Jongdae simply laughs at him, offering him the crab meat he has already gotten out of the shell, instead.

They walk along the stretch of the shoreline after dropping by a convenience store, each a bottle of soju to themselves. Joonmyun has the sparklers tucked under his arm, and he's walking far too fast, closer to the waves and further away from Jongdae. Jongdae's mind goes back to Seoul where Kyungsoo's probably discussing the details of his comeback album before curling up at home, because Seoul is always much easier to enjoy with all the noise flocking elsewhere, to provinces and tourist spots or even to other countries. "I feel like I'm getting a foot spa here, hyung!" Joonmyun calls out, and Jongdae's brought back to Gyeongpo, to his feet sinking in the wet sand, to Joonmyun waving one hand in the air, the bottle of soju gleaming just lightly when a sliver of light hits it.

"You get those often?" Jongdae asks once he's caught up. He wraps a hand around Joonmyun's wrist, dragging him closer to the shore. The waves are beginning to get stronger, and the wind tousles Joonmyun's already unmanageable hair.

"Not recently. I've been…" Joonmyun tilts his head, the corner of his lips tugging up as he looks at Jongdae. "Really busy." He clicks his tongue, but there's still the hint of amusement in the lilt of his his voice. "I wonder why."

"Tell me about it. There's this kid who keeps ruining my sleeping schedule—" Joonmyun pinches him in his side, and Jongdae erupts into a peal of laughter even as he trips and falls on the sand.

The waves have already calmed down by the time they uncap their soju bottles, and they each take a swig after bumping the bottles together. Joonmyun has fallen completely silent now, only humming occasionally. Jongdae can't find a pattern in the sudden burst of sound, not yet, and after another sip, he rests his hand on top of Joonmyun's, slipping his fingers between Joonmyun's own.

Joonmyun makes an indiscernible sound at the back of his throat and takes a long drink off his bottle.

Jongdae isn't drunk enough yet, but he slowly sinks in the sand, pulling Joonmyun down with him, on top of him. When he decided on a whim to head to Gyeongpo for Chuseok, away from his busy like in Gangnam and the noise he can't seem to get rid of, he'd somehow already made a decision to come back with a renewed sense of gratification. When he decided to pull Joonmyun with him on such short notice, he'd already set himself up for trouble, but Joonmyun hadn't complained despite the late night call, hadn't even questioned his choice of location or how they were going to get there. He'd only asked, "What time are we meeting up?", and Joonmyun had somehow known what to bring with him, what Jongdae needed.

Joonmyun is the cacophony that, strangely enough, sounds like music in Jongdae's ears.

Joonmyun gasps, hands trembling as he releases his hold from the bottle and the soju leaves a cool patch on his shirt. "Hyung, I'm sorry, I—" He can hear the panic and shock in the lilt of Joonmyun's voice, in the dissonance, but he pays no heed to it and simply snakes a hand up Joonmyun's nape, fingers tugging lightly on Joonmyun's hair.

He closes his eyes and lets the small gurgling sounds Joonmyun makes ease the fatigue in his limbs, but he opens his eyes wide when he feels the warm press of Joonmyun's lips — soft, light, tentative — on the underside of his jaw.

"For getting your shirt wet," Joonmyun whispers, then buries his face in Jongdae's chest.

Jongdae takes a deep breath and hopes, really wishes hard, that Joonmyun can't hear the heavy beats in Jongdae's chest.

"Apology accepted."

Jongdae wakes up to the heavy press of Joonmyun's lips, warm and wet, on this neck.

He trembles a little at the sensation. Joonmyun stirs a bit, humming as he moves closer and catches some of Jongdae's skin between his lips. He remembers getting up from the sand last night after losing all the feeling in his arms, remembers Joonmyun apologizing for drooling on his shirt, remembers linking his fingers with Joonmyun's as they made their way back to the hotel, the five-minute walk turning into a fifteen-minute journey, steps stuttered and slowed down by tickling and tripping over each other's feet, laughter muffled by the press of the mouth on the arm, Joonmyun burying his face in Jongdae's chest.

He remembers tumbling into bed with Joonmyun, remembers pulling Joonmyun closer until Joonmyun was nuzzling his chest, remembers Joonmyun humming until he fell asleep.

He remembers the dull ache in his chest as he watched Joonmyun deep in slumber. It's the same ache that claws at his stomach when Joonmyun looks up at him, the corners of his lips pulled down by lethargy, and says, "Hey. Good morning."

"You were right when you said you sing in your sleep," Jongdae whispers, then presses his lips where the furrow of Joonmyun's eyebrows is deepest. "I kept waking up."

Joonmyun frowns, bottom lip jutting out as he blows some air. "I was just kidding when I said that. I didn't know it was actually—"

"I'm kidding," Jongdae interrupts. Joonmyun snarls, but his voice is much too honeyed with sleep for it to even sound the slightest bit offending. "Get up, sleepyhead. Breakfast is only until 10:30."

Joonmyun's left hand finds a home on Jongdae's lap for most of breakfast, the tips of his fingers dipping every so often. Jongdae can't even count the number of times he almost chokes on his coffee, and Joonmyun only chuckles whenever Jongdae does, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Joonmyun's shirt is too big for him, and it drops too low in front, exposing his collarbones. Jongdae wonders how it would feel to touch them again, skin on skin, Joonmyun's heat seeping through every part of his body that touches Joonmyun's.

The plan is to try out some water activities, but the winds are too strong and the waves are bigger than the usual. Walking along the shoreline becomes more of a risk than a relaxing journey, so Joonmyun drags them to the spa even before Jongdae can protest. They manage to secure a private room for two, and when the masseuses draw the curtains closed and the lights dim, Jongdae takes a deep, deep breath.

It takes every bit of control to not watch Joonmyun pull his shirt over his head, to not follow the dip Joonmyun's fingers take when he tugs at the waistband of his pants and slowly pulls them down. There's a challenge in Joonmyun's eyes when he meets Jongdae head on, and Jongdae clenches his fists, purposely digging his nails into his skin in an effort to keep himself in check.

Joonmyun darts out his tongue, swiping along his upper lip slowly, a small curve surfacing on a corner of his lips. He shucks off his pants, and Jongdae traces the length of Joonmyun's legs with his gaze.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you ready?" one of the masseuses asks, and Joonmyun grins as he climbs onto the massage table, lying in his stomach.

Joonmyun stays focused as Jongdae gets undressed, shirt coming off in one fluid motion, as he pulls his pants down and exhales loudly and lies flat on his belly. When he looks up at Joonmyun again, Joonmyun has already ducked his head into the small opening, and his hands are relaxed on the frame of the table.

Their arms slide against each other on their way back to the room, still slick with oil and the heat of the massage room. Joonmyun's hair is a mess, strands all tangled up, and Jongdae reaches over, running his fingers through the unmade hair. A faint mewl escapes Joonmyun's lips just before they reach their floor, and a sound gets trapped in Jongdae's throat as Joonmyun grabs him by the wrist, dragging him all the way to their room.

Joonmyun makes quick work of the lock and pushes him against the wall as soon as they're inside.

Joonmyun kicks the door shut, and his hands grab onto Jongdae's shirt, pulling him closer until Joonmyun's lips meet his skin. Joonmyun trails kisses down his neck, sucking on the underside of his jaw, the base of his throat, then the skin just below his collarbones. The tips of his fingers are cold and Joonmyun skin is so, so hot, feverish, sticky against his own, and Jongdae lets out a low groan as Joonmyun sucks hard on the skin where jaw meets neck, again and again until a choked ah slips Jongdae's lips.

"Joon… myun…" His breathing is ragged when Joonmyun pulls away, lips trembling, and Joonmyun mumbles something about going to bed and please don't wake me up even before Jongdae can reach out to pull him back in.

Jongdae stares at his reflection in the mirror, the bright red mark on his neck stealing all the attention. It hadn't burned that much minutes ago, just before Joonmyun disappeared behind the sheets, but now, in the silence of their shared hotel room, the voices haunt him again, and everything that Joonmyun had touched stings.

He looks over his shoulder, at the lump on the bed, and takes a deep breath. A part of him can't help but think that this — the whole trip, that dragging Joonmyun all the way from Apgeujong here to Gangneung, that hoping, even if only for a while, for a bit of respite so willingly offered in Joonmyun's soothing voice and soft smile — is a selfish move, but people do stupid things sometimes when they're lonely, or when they're too happy.

Joonmyun's the best thing that has happened to him in a while. Now, Joonmyun has retreated back into his cocoon, curled up on the bed with all of his shields up.

Joonmyun doesn't rouse from his sleep until nine in the evening. Jongdae had picked up take out food earlier along with a couple of bottles of soju, and he's already halfway through the first bottle when Joonmyun emerges from the sheets. "I hope you're okay with pizza," Jongdae says, softly so that he won't startle Joonmyun, and Joonmyun looks up at him with a soft, tired smile.

"What time is it?"

"Time for dinner." Joonmyun shifts in his position, reaching out to ruffle Joonmyun's hair. Joonmyun flinches for a moment, but soon he sinks into the touch, humming a little as Jongdae massages Joonmyun's scalp. "Want me to feed you?"

"I can eat on my own, hyung," Joonmyun retorts, bumping his shoulder into Jongdae's. He leans his head on Jondgae's and, for a moment, all his worries disappear, fading out and under the sweet allure of Joonmyun's voice.

It's there, though, the tension, in the small space between their thighs, in the way their elbows don't rub against each other, in the way Joonmyun bites off the crust and doesn't move closer to press his lips on Jongdae's fingers. Jongdae sort of misses the warmth, like it has taken root in him, but Joonmyun's still generous with touches — the light brush of knuckles against Jongdae's thigh, or the way the tips of his fingers craze Jongdae's side.

"I… still haven't thanked you," Jongdae says after a while. The taste of soju is thick on his tongue, and the scent reeks in the air. Joonmyun has just begun uncapping his own bottle, a small piece of pizza snug between his lips. "For agreeing to come here with me on such short notice and for getting my mind off of work."

He means Baekhyun's wedding and the way Sunyoung had looked so beautiful and happy when they met at the altar, means Kyungsoo arriving at the reception unannounced and waltzing his way back into Jongdae's life without preamble, but quickly retreating at the slightest sign of attachment. He means distancing himself from his own feelings even if he's brought Joonmyun here with him, trouble and a problem all in one.

Joonmyun looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed, and he takes a swig of his drink before he asks, "You hate your job? I didn't see that coming."

"I don't hate it. It's more of—" No longer feeling the thrill of performing in front of people, the excitement in preparing for a huge event or researching on a TV show before heading there for a guest appearance, more of being worn out to the bone that he has to drag his ass to the office just so he can show up on time. It's more of not feeling it anymore, in the same way that Taeyeon can't feel the song she's being forced to promote for the next sixth months because it isn't her. "It's wearing me out more than it should, faster than it should."

Joonmyun laughs a little, but mumbles an apology soon after. "You've been in the industry far too long already, hyung. I don't think there's such a thing as fast for you anymore."

There is — the way Joonmyun had caught his attention with his distinct tone, the way Joonmyun had weaseled his way into his mind and his life, the way Joonmyun had known the right parts to lick on and suck and kiss like he'd been studying Jongdae's body and the way he moves for the longest time already.

"I'm just tired, really, really tired." He exhales loudly, then takes a long swig of his drink. "I'm not sure if a vacation can solve this."

"Are you tired of me, then?" Joonmyun asks, voice steady and low.

Jongdae turns to his side, twisting his torso so that they're face. Joonmyun's has just woken up and the sleep hasn't left his eyes yet, but he hears the request in Joonmyun's tone, curling on his nape and drawing him closer for him to whisper the answer in Joonmyun's ear. He studies the downward tug of Joonmyun's lips, the years written on Joonmyun's skin, the way Joonmyun's eyes soften as he looks up at Jongdae. Joonmyun's gaze is scrutinizing, and Jongdae suddenly feels like he's twenty-one again, stepping on stage for the first time, the fear of the lights drowning him out wrapping around his throat and keeping him from singing.

"You're not my job, Joonmyun," he finally answers.

"What— Who am I to you, then, hyung?"

"You're—" My voice, he wants to say, but Joonmyun is too many things to Jongdae — a muse, his very own music, a reminder that mornings aren't so bad whenever he wakes up to Joonmyun's cute smileys and stickers, a willing ear when he just needs someone to listen, and a soothing voice that casts a spell on him and both eases the tension is his muscles and sets explosions to the tips of his fingers. "My Joonmyunnie," he says, voice almost dropping to a whisper, and he finds cadence again when Joonmyun reaches out, tentative, the tips of his fingers brushing against Jongdae's knee. "You're my Joonmyunnie."

Joonmyun doesn't say anything, just hums and draws circles on Jongdae's knee until soft laughter escapes his lips. They've learned their lesson now, so they both cap their bottles and place them on the floor, well away from the crime scene, before Joonmyun launches a tickle attack, poking Jongdae repeatedly in his side until he can draw a peal of laughter from him.

From where he is — back flat on the bed, Joonmyun's legs and arms and either side of him, trapped in a warmth that has come to be all-too-familiar — Joonmyun looks much bigger, less of that tiny singer he had spotted in Blue Moon months ago. He reaches up, running his hands beneath Joonmyun's shirt, fingers tracing the groove of Joonmyun's abs, and Joonmyun's balance falters, sending him crashing below, face first, into Jongdae's chest.

Joonmyun's laughter fills his ears and tickles the back of his throat.

The sun's already up high when Jongdae stirs from his sleep.

The aftermath of last night's dinner-cum-drinking session sees the carpets littered with bottle caps, but the food containers have been shuffled to one side of the table — at the center, one container on top of the other. There are a few pieces of chips on the floor, but the bag has been folded, just not sealed. Joonmyun's legs are wrapped around his own and he looks like a kid with that bead of drool flaunted on the corner of his lips, and it takes every bit of control for Jongdae to keep himself from reaching out and wiping it off.

He means to pulls Joonmyun closer, but he has already lost all the feeling in his right arm, tucked under Joonmyun's weight. He settles for hooking his foot on Joonmyun's ankle, and Joonmyun leans closer until his cheek is pressed against Jongdae's chest.

There isn't anyone around, and security probably won't mind, and there are voices in Jongdae's head that are telling him to lean closer, come on, Jongdae. If there's anything you want, you only have to lean closer and listen— Joonmyun's breathing is steady and even, rhythmic, and he's humming an unintelligible melody under his breath, and Joonmyun's less than a touch, a decision away.

Joonmyun shifts a little, and his eyes slowly flutter open. He has nice eyelashes, but the way he looks up at Jongdae with half-lidded eyes is even more beautiful. "Hey, hyung. Good morning."

Jongdae buries his face in Joonmyun's hair, instead. "Check out is in an hour," he whispers. "We have to get going."

Joonmyun laughs and hits him on the chest before getting up.

There's nothing but the sound of their stomachs growling, but occasionally he hears the slight hitch of the breath when their arms brush against each other, or the tiny gasp that escapes Joonmyun's lips when they collide. Jongdae snakes an arm around Joonmyun's hips to keep him from falling, but it might as well be the other way around — Joonmyun's smiling at him, lazy at the corners, and he's shaking his head as if saying, "Don't fall in love with me, not this easily. Don't do it, Jongdae. Stop it."

Too late, Jongdae thinks as he tucks Joonmyun's hair behind his ear with his other hand. He's already in too deep, and there's no other way but to dig even deeper until he can no longer find a way out.

It's Joonmyun's iPod that they use this time, on their way back to Seoul.

Joonmyun had taken a good five minutes just looking over his shoulder and at the expanse of water a few feet from them, and Jongdae had kept a hand steady on the small of Joonmyun's back the whole time. The walk from the hotel back to the bus station had been quiet, but Joonmyun had started talking again when they'd gotten on the train. Jongdae had stolen one of Joonmyun's earbuds not more than fifteen minutes into the train ride, and Joonmyun had been more than willing to share his music. "Maybe, next time, you should send me your recordings, hyung," he's teases, and Jongdae elbowed him lightly in his side and gave his thigh a light squeeze.

hey bud, sorry, forgot to text you but looks like you're having fun, as well? Baekhyun texts. Jongdae can imagine Baekhyun's struggle between just shrugging off the worry and letting it take control of his hands, and he laughs at the image — Baekhyun, ever listless, is more than just his voice of reason on one too many times. Baekhyun has always been that anchor he can keep coming back to if he ever lost his way, but Baekhyun had flown away now, had been cast into the ocean so deep that Jongdae can't find his way anymore.

Lucky Joonmyun's there to call out his name; Jongdae only has to swim to shore. It's not even that far.

Joonmyun keeps his eyes closed for most of the trip, but he drums his fingers on Jongdae's thigh, reaching inside from time to time when Jongdae attempts to skip a track. "My iPod, my rules," he whispers, and Jongdae retracts his hands, sitting on them to keep himself from touching Joonmyun.

Three long hours of travel dissolve into one playlist, and Joonmyun pulls away with an easy smile, earbud in tow, when they're back in Apgeujong. Jongdae can hear the noises again — chattering, honking, Seoul's busy street life just a few meters below them. "We should… do this again," Joonmyun says, and he wiggles his fingers in his side, eyes traveling from Jongdae's hands up to the base of his throat, then his lips.

Jongdae looks around for an audience, then slides beside Joonmyun, close enough that their hands brush and their clothes briefly shield their intertwined hands from the view. "Yeah, we should," Jongdae answers, and Joonmyun just smiles up at him, warm and gentle, a love song they've yet to hear on the radio but is this year's greatest hit yet.

Easing back into Seoul's noise and music doesn't take much — Jongdae has always taken a bit of Seoul with him wherever he goes, and Kyungsoo's quiet-but-not-quite company makes the transition easier even after three days of respite. "You seem awfully bubbly," is the only thing Kyungsoo says when he finishes listening to a track Jongdae has been tasked to work on for him. "This song, more than anything else. You have a lyrics for this already, hyung?"

Jongdae crosses his arms behind his head, locking his hands onto his elbows. "Haven't worked that out yet, but I have an idea of what I want you to sing." Kyungsoo has an eyebrow raised; this means he's waiting for the punchline that almost never comes, or the part where Jongdae leans in and steps into his private space. It's not an option anymore. "How do you feel about love at first sight?"

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, but the smile on his lips remains. Kyungsoo hasn't had the best control over his lips in a while, or at least in the three years that Jongdae has known him. "The same way you feel about Cuervo — a complete waste of time." He shifts in his seat, folding one leg under his thigh. "Try again."

Working with Kyungsoo isn't as difficult as keeping track of the expiration dates of the food in his fridge. Kyungsoo has almost always been relenting when it comes to music, letting Jongdae have complete control over the melody and the lyrics because he knows Jongdae has his voice memorized like the back of his hand. He'll only come forward with a complaint when he knows a note is well out of his range, or when Jongdae forces him to sing pop songs that make him hate every second of a recording session. He'll extend an invitation to go out for dinner after, though, once he's sure he's left a slap on Jongdae's arm that burns and stings. (He'll tease Jongdae and ask him to pay, but he'll always end up footing the bill.)

"Finally coming to terms with one's feelings, then?" Jongdae tries, moving closer until their knees bump. The tight corners of Kyungsoo's lips soften a little, and Jongdae takes it as a sign to go on. "A gradual realization? It happens, you know—"

"Maybe you'd be better of singing that song, hyung." The smile on Kyungsoo's lips grows wider, tugging up at one corner too hard. It almost reaches his eyes. If Jongdae tries harder, he can earn that smile again, but it's not a battle he should be fighting.

Jongdae adjusts the tempo a bit, slowing it down until Kyungsoo flashes a thumbs up at him, and Kyungsoo hums as Jongdae tries to work out the first verse up until the chorus. It's familiar enough a routine that he expects Kyungsoo to peek at his work, chin tucked on his shoulder, expects Kyungsoo to maybe steal the pen and take over writing duties, scribbling on the lyrics he's written, so he waits — for that moment, three years ago, when this seemed more like a love song begging to be sung than a song finally coming full circle. Kyungsoo maintains a good distance from him, only occasionally bumping his elbow into Jongdae's own when he leans over to squint at the lyrics Jongdae is showing him.

"You're having way too much fun with this, hyung," Kyungsoo comments after a while, head thrown back, eyes closed. "I could get used to it."

Jongdae takes a deep breath and re-reads the lyrics he has written, Kyungsoo humming the tune in the background. Having fun is something he can definitely get used to.

The days leading up to Sooneung find Joonmyun staying longer hours in the hagwon, moving from Apgeujong to Hongdae and back too late in the evening that he spends most nights conked out on his bed or curled up with a book, phone pressed to his right ear as Jongdae talks him off and Joonmyun just hums and chuckles and sings on the other end of the line.

"If we keep doing this, I might consider charging extra for phone services," Jongdae teases, and only grins when Joonmyun cackles at him in response. He keeps his face buried in a pillow, briefly forgetting that Joonmyun can't see him — but can hear him very well.

"Are you going to talk to me until you fall asleep, hyung?" Joonmyun asks.

Jongdae can hear the fatigue in his voice, the steady drop in volume that soon dissolves into a yawn. "Are you going to stay on the line until you fall asleep, hmm?"

There's rustling in the background and the sound of Joonmyun running his thumb through the pages of a book. He's had an earful of this sound when they'd traveled to Gangneung together, Joonmyun with his head on Jongdae's shoulder and Jongdae with his fingers wandering over to Joonmyun's thigh, the touch brief and feather-light, testing to see if Joonmyun will look up from his book or snap it shut altogether. He'd done neither; instead, the corners of his lips quirked up, lifting with every pattern Jongdae traced on his thigh.

"It would be easier if…" Some more rustling, like Joonmyun can't find a comfortable position in his very own bed. "You were here. Since I sing in my sleep. You said so, yourself."

"I told you, I was kidding when I said that—"

"I'm not kidding now, hyung." A loud exhale, then, "Good night, Kim Jong—"

"Do you have time on Saturday?"

There's silence for a while, a familiar white noise that sends shivers down Jongdae's spine. They're at this point again, where the air thins and Jongdae's breath hitches at the slightest sound of Joonmyun's voice. "I can make time for you," Joonmyun says after a while, and Jongdae lets out all the breath he wasn't aware he'd held in.

"Meet me at the 7-11 two blocks away from your office, the one near Garosu-gil."

Joonmyun chuckles a little. The soft, almost inaudible music sets explosions at the tips of Jongdae's fingers. "It's a date."

He digs his hands into his pockets, circling the lamp post for the nth time as he looks around him for any sign of a blond man just a bit smaller than him. They'd agreed to meet at 7, but Joonmyun had to fix a few more things before calling it a night at the hagwon. Sooneung is only a little over a month away, and Lord knows students put more pressure on themselves during the last leg of the study season. Longer nights mean Joonmyun sending him unintelligible messages on KKT that he later deciphers in the morning, after a cup of coffee and after Joonmyun sends a follow up text, saying, that was me falling asleep in the middle actually saying something important.

He looks to his left and spots a man waving at him, a beanie covering his bright hair. Joonmyun had finally given up on his light-colored blazer, filing it in his closet for summer, and has moved on to using a navy blue blazer, sometimes even a maroon one. It breathes more color into Joonmyun's pale skin and goes well with the light flush on his cheeks.

"I had to go back to the office five minutes into my walk," Joonmyun explains, a sheepish smile slipping from his lips. "I didn't realize it would be this cold tonight."

"Exactly how long have you been living here in Korea, hmm?"

Joonmyun twirls in his spot, then dips his hand in the pocket of Jongdae's coat, pulling him closer. "I think the question should be how long have I been staying out late here in Gangnam, and how often?"

Jongdae looks around for an audience, then leans in, stopping when their noses brush. The tip of Joonmyun's nose is cold; it tickles. "You better start evaluating who you hang out with."

Joonmyun slips his fingers — slender and cold — between Jongdae's own, and cocks his head in the direction of the building in front of them. "Let's?"

They cross the street and take the flight of stairs down the building, the white walls closing in on them with each step. The route narrows to a short corridor, and Jongdae presses on, leading Joonmyun forward until they reach a white door. "This is my second favorite place in the world," he whispers when he looks over his shoulder, then twists the knob with his free hand, opening the door, and the music starts to seep through the small opening.

Jongdae takes a step forward, then urges to Joonmyun to step inside, a hand steady on the small of Joonmyun's back. "This… looks pretty cozy," Joonmyun mumbles after a while, and they make their way through some small tables near the entrance, closer to the bar until they reach a part of the club where the lighting's the softest. "Are we the only ones here?"

"People don't come here often. It's a hidden gem in Sinsa." Jongdae waves at the bartender, then runs his fingers along the edge of the table. "Take a seat. You can even lie down if you want."

Joonmyun laughs a little. "You talk as if you own this place."

Jongdae squints, leaning closer until he's on eye-level with Joonmyun. He can feel Joonmyun's breath warm on his skin, prickling the dip of his lip. Joonmyun's leaning back, a challenge in the glint of his eyes, a question written on the curl of the lip. "Oh, but what if I do?" Jongdae teases, and Joonmyun just shakes his head, grabbing Jongdae by the wrist to pull him down.

"You're having your usual?" Jongdae asks, and Joonmyun simply nods. He wrinkles his nose at Joonmyun before slipping away, heading to the bar to grab their drinks.

The evening dissolves into a talk about Sooneung and kids panicking, reminiscing the days when they, themselves, had been preparing for the big exam. Jongdae remembers sneaking in studying between practices, spending nights up in the rooftop, back against the wall near the door as he goes through his reading materials for the night. Baekhyun would knock thrice and bring him some food, and they'd just stay there, sifting through their notes, taking a nap occasionally when the big words begin to weigh down on them.

"I stayed at Minseok-hyung's place the night of the exam, because I hadn't developed the skill in waking up to an alarm clock then," Joonmyun confesses, He takes a sip of his drink — Jongdae will never understand what Joonmyun sees in drinking vodka neat — and rest his lips there, even as he gulps hard. "Sometimes, he still checks on me in the mornings. Keeps thinking that I'll oversleep or even drift off in the cab or something."

Jongdae cracks his neck, then leans back as he takes a sip of his drink. "It takes more than an alarm clock to wake me up sometimes."

Joonmyun's eyes light up, and he cocks his head to the left. Jongdae's eyes are drawn to the column of his neck, the exposed flesh, the light flush painting it a warmer color. "Mhmm? What does it take to wake you up, hyung?"

A trip to Gangneung. Walking along Gyeongpo beach. Too many bottles of soju and one song on loop in his mind, the same voice ringing in his ears long after the song has faded out. Joonmyun's lips, warm and wet, tracing kisses down his neck, sucking on the skin just below his collarbones.

"KKT notifications buzzing in my ear, definitely," Jongdae replies. He leans in until he can feel the warm press of Joonmyun's skin on his lips, can feel the pulse on the base of Joonmyun's throat as he plants a kiss there, then licks a stripe along the column of Joonmyun's neck. "And a voice that just won't leave me."

"You better take it up with that—" Joonmyun's speech gets choked as Jongdae dips his head, moving just a bit south as he sucks marks along Joonmyun's neck. "—that person. Must be really—"

"Amazing," Jongdae finishes. He can feel Joonmyun's heavy breathing, can hear the loud beats in his ear, drowning out the voices at the back of his mind. He can feel Joonmyun trembling, his cold fingers slipping between Jongdae's own, and he plants a soft his on the underside of Joonmyun's jaw before pulling away. Joonmyun gasps, soft, almost inaudible, and Jongdae records that sound, plays it in his ears again and again until it blends with the music that Joonmyun's laughter and singing create.

He enters Lee Sooman's office with two cups of coffee in hand and a request to spare him just a few minutes of his time in the middle of October.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Sooman says, then gestures for him to take a seat. He eyes the cup of coffee with great interest, and Jongdae tries to mumble something that remotely sounds like Go ahead, sir. Those are both Americano. Your favorite, right? He takes the sleeve off, glancing at the markings on the cup, and laughs a little before turning to Jongdae. "Either you've developed a liking for Splenda or you just miss me," Sooman says, and Jongdae laughs a little.

"I have a teeny, tiny request that might not be as tiny as I think it is," Jongdae begins. He shuffles his feet and thinks of Joonmyun's text that morning — just do it, hyung. nothing to lose c: plus you have coffee so you can make yourself happy if he ever decides to say no :p — finding himself smiling a bit too wide when he sees the light furrow of Sooman's eyebrows. "I… I'm not sure if I still want to do the idol thing, sir, but I think my calling is in… training people."

"Training—" A smile slowly forms on Sooman's lips. "And why do you think will you be better off with training people, hmm?"

"Well…" Jongdae's mind goes back to season one, Kyungsoo's blind auditions, and thinks of where Kyungsoo is now — preparing for this third studio album after returning to Korea from an Asia concert tour. He thinks of Kim Myungsoo from season two and how he'd managed to grab the rookie of the year award despite Nam Woohyun winning that season. He thinks of Joonmyun and all those nights in Blue Moon and ZZYZX and Heaven, the small gigs at Finger, the playlist of Joonmyun's recordings in his iPod. "Kyungsoo's working on another album now, and Myungsoo's preparing for his comeback, and there's this kid I've picked up in Blue Moon and they've all been sounding great under my care." He takes a deep breath, summoning a smile to his lips. "I think I'm more than qualified for the job."

Sooman looks at him, assessing, and nods as he laughs lightly. "I heard that thing with Taeyeon, you know. She told me she wasn't feeling the song Kenzie had composed for her." Sooman takes off the lid of the cup and takes a whiff of the coffee. "Then she said that she wants to promote the song you wrote for her, because you know her voice inside-out."

Jongdae chuckles. "That was supposed to be a conversation between two drunk people."

"Well then, you better invite me to one of your drinking escapades sometime!"

It's easy to choke up laughter in an office as warm as this, he thinks, as Sooman raises his coffee cup as if proposing a toast. Jongdae takes the other cup, lifting it tentatively. He can still feel his shoulders trembling. "When do you want to start, then?"

"Later?" he replies, then scratches the back of his neck. "You know I get antsy when I'm not doing anything, sir."

"In that case—" Sooman leans in, bumping his cup into Jongdae's lightly, then continues, "—you better not be slacking off, Kim Jongdae."

Jongdae lets a peal of laughter slip from his lips as he nods, eyes still locked with Sooman's own. "You can count on it, sir," he replies, then returns the gesture. "You can count on it."

The worst part of Sooneung is coffee shops opening late, but it gives Jongdae an excuse to get up later than the usual, hitting the road at half past ten in the morning, walking from Cheongdam to Apgeujong. Rerouting is the second worst thing, but it's easier to live with. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, burying his lips in the scarf wound around his neck. The streets are quiet, and in a few hours students will come rushing out of the testing centers, bawling their eyes out or shouting for joy and announcing to the world that they'll be crashing in bed for the next few hours.

Jongdae makes a right turn, then walks straight ahead until he finds a yellow building. Joonmyun had texted earlier, saying that he's finally back from distributing food to the parents waiting outside the testing centers, and, "I still have a couple of sandwiches here. Want some?" Maybe he'll snatch a few for himself and live on them for the next few days or until he develops the habit of not having to eat when he stays up late. Joonmyun's good company, albeit not the most talkative, at three in the morning, after all.

He presses the buzzer, and Joonmyun appears at the reception a few seconds after in a hoodie and black pants. It feels a lot like Sooneung, and the lines on his forehead aren't as pronounced anymore. "Hi," Jongdae mouths, and Joonmyun finally opens the door when Jongdae sticks out his tongue.

"I hope you're really hungry, because I have a lot of sandwiches left," Joonmyun singsongs. He hooks an arm around Jongdae's own and drags him to the main hall. "I sent Minseok-hyung and Jongin home just a few minutes ago. Jonginnie looked as if he was going to drift off any moment."

"Weak," Jongdae mumbles, and Joonmyun jabs him lightly on the arm.

They share a sandwich because Joonmyun isn't a heavy eater, and Jongdae can't eat without a good cup of coffee. Joonmyun leads him to the hall for the private study cubicles soon after, and they check each and every stall to see if any belongings have been left behind. "Someone left her wallet last year, but both Minseok-hyung and I knew that she did that on purpose just so she could see Jonginnie again," Joonmyun comments somewhere along the way, and they stumble into a stall, with Jongdae almost tripping on the curtain.

"I'd leave my stuff here just to have an excuse to see you," he whispers, leaning close until his lips are grazing Joonmyun's earlobe. He hears the hitch in Joonmyun's breathing, and Joonmyun wraps cold fingers around Jongdae's wrist. A sharp line of electricity shoots up his arm, and soon he stumbling over his words, voice choked as Joonmyun slowly leans in. "Accidentally, of course, because I like to believe in chance meetings."

The stall is too small for two people to fit in, but Joonmyun makes it easy, sitting atop the table and hooking his legs around Jongdae's own. "Chance meetings, huh?" Joonmyun whispers, and he moves closer, their foreheads bumping. Joonmyun's hot breath tickles his skin.

Jongdae thinks of Sooneung, of the long and grueling preparation for an exam that lasts a little under ten hours, of all the sleepless nights spent trying to make sure that he's already learned everything there is to learn and making sure that the information sticks there, in his brain, and seeps right into his skin. He thinks of the years of training spent alongside Baekhyun and Jonghyun, thinks of vocal lessons with Kyungsoo, and thinks of how all of them have moved onto something better, bigger, brighter.

He thinks of meeting Joonmyun in Blue Moon completely on chance, of hearing Joonmyun perform on stage and seeing him use his loop pedal, of all those late nights spent in clubs following that voice, that music that more than eases the tension in his muscles and puts his heart at ease.

He thinks of Joonmyun right in front of him, wet lips parted and willing and waiting, and takes a deep breath.

He presses closer, dipping his head a little as he looks for the right angle. Joonmyun cranes his neck, and their lips meet in a light brush. He can feel shivers running down his spine, can feel a familiar heat sizzling down his abdomen. This is a test, a test to see if Jongdae's willing to take that step forward and step into the light, grab the microphone closest to him and take someone from the crowd, a familiar face lit up by a bright smile and equally bright hair, pull him up on stage and ask him if they can perform a duet. It's a test to see if their voices will fit. Jongdae closes his eyes and captures Joonmyun's bottom lip between his lips, sinking his teeth in the soft flesh just a little until Joonmyun lets out a low moan. He presses a kiss to the corner of Joonmyun's lips — the left, then the right — and reclaims Joonmyun's bottom lip as he draws out a long suck. Joonmyun throws his head back a little as he parts his lips in invitation, and Jongdae takes that leap of faith, licking the back of Joonmyun's teeth. He can feel Joonmyun's fingers, cold and trembling, curling on his nape, pulling him closer, and he sucks on Joonmyun's tongue in response. Joonmyun kisses like nothing and no one outside of this matters, and Jongdae lets himself get lost in the soft, warm press of Joonmyun's lips on his.

Joonmyun nips on Jongdae's bottom lip, giggling before he sucks it in, then pulls away with a smile.

Jongdae thinks of Joonmyun's voice and his distinct tone, of Joonmyun singing along side him. He thinks of duets. He thinks of a future so clearly scrawled on Joonmyun's skin, his lips, his tongue.

He thinks of Joonmyun.

It's that time of the year again, when Jongdae finds himself spending nearly the entire day plastered to a huge, red seat. He's lucky the cushions are more comfortable this year, and the set's been improved considerably. Jongdae stretches his legs, nearly smacking his foot into the podium in front of him; he never learns.

Beside him, Boa lets out a low groan as she says, "I'm waiting for the first four-chair turner." She frowns a little, but slips into a practiced smile when the lights dim and the floor director tells them that the next contestant will be getting on stage in a minute. "The talents are good, but only just? I mean, we've heard better voices."

At the far end of the row Jonghyun raises two thumbs up, and Jongdae briefly wonders when Jonghyun acquired superior hearing skills. Taeyeon slaps him on the arm, and Boa and Jongdae chuckle in harmony. The familiar, playful banter makes hours of being glued to a chair much more bearable.

The set has gone completely dark now, and Jongdae can hear faint footsteps. He waits for the sound of the band, too many instruments somehow coming to an agreement and creating wonderful music, but he hears nothing. He taps his foot, and Boa shoots him a glance, eyebrows furrowed as she mouths, Is this a joke?

Then a guitar riff comes in, soft and slow. Boa sinks in her seat.

The music starts with easy strumming, then some plucking, and only after a while does Jongdae realize that this is the second layer of sound now, the music slowly gaining more depth. He twists his torso, but promptly remembers that there are rules to be followed. He waits for a third layer — soft humming, a familiar velvety tone that gets fuller as the notes get higher — and then a fourth where the voice takes a dip, a faint, low tone.

He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning, but the pull is much too strong. His body moves on its own accord, acting completely on muscle memory when a familiar voice soars above the sound of the guitar. He hits a standstill, hand hovering the button in front of him, and a voice at the back of his head joins the harmony, two voices that sound so alike, wrapping around him like a warm quilt.

He takes a deep breath, holding it as he presses down on the red button.

The chair takes a slow turn. The spotlight glows brighter, and Jongdae squints as he sees bright, blond hair, and a familiar pair of eyes looking up at him. The light is a bit too harsh, but Joonmyun stands out despite his white polo and his blue jeans and that horrible, horrible middle part, and Jongdae finds himself releasing his hold on his cheek, the grin he'd once suppressed tugging hard on the corners of his lips. The song hits the chorus, and he hears a few more buttons being pushed — Jonghyun's, then Taeyeon's, then Boa's — and the twinkle in Joonmyun's eyes chokes down all of the words lodged at his throat.

He hums under his breath, lips moving in tandem with Joonmyun's own.

They sing.

one | two

1. Almost all of the songs Joonmyun sang are in this playlist. Please do note that the pitch has been modified slightly (one to two steps higher) so that it will be easier to imagine Joonmyun singing the songs. For a detailed breakdown of the songs:
   • The first song Joonmyun performed in Blue Moon is Ed Sheeran's Give Me Love
   • The second song, the one performed in ZZYZX is Ed Sheeran's One
   • Joonmyun also performed Alex Vargas's Wasteland in ZZYZX, the same day that he performed One
2. A guide to everyone's ages: Jongdae, Jonghyun, and Baekhyun are 38. Taeyeon is 39, while Boa is 40. Joonmyun is fresh off of college, and he's 25 in this fic.
3. Sunyoung's hometown isn't Jeonju; she was actually born and raised in Seoul.
4. Hagwon is the Korean "cram school". It's normal for high school students to attend cram schools in Korea, not because they are struggling with their grades but because they feel that the standard education schools give isn't enough. For students looking to advance their knowledge in preparation for a big exam, attending a hagwon is a wise decision.
5. Sooneung is the Korean College Scholastic Ability Test, held only once a year, every second or third Thursday of November. Koreans prepare for this exam long before they enter high school.
6. Gyeongpo Beach is located in Gangneung, a city in Gangwon-do. To reach the beach, ride the express bus to Gangneung, then take bus 202 up until the very last station.
7. All of the clubs mentioned in this fic are real, as well as the cafes. Some of the names have been shortened, like Blue Moon for Once in a Blue Moon, and Heaven for Club Heaven. While most of the establishments mentioned can be found in Gangnam, Cafe Organic can be found in Hongdae.
8. The title of the fic was taken from an Arctic Monkey song.

* Here's a mixtape for the fic, if you're interested. :)

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