Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hear me out,” Yunho said. “Our song should be about the summer.”

He was standing up with his hands planted firmly on the table as he looked around to make eye contact with everyone and ensure they were listening to every word he said. He grinned when he saw they were paying attention and raised an eyebrow as he waited to hear what they thought.

“It’s January,” Hongjoong deadpanned but wrote the word ‘summer’ on his notebook of ideas anyway.

“All the more reason.” Yunho shrugged, sitting down again. “Plus, the contest is in April which will be closer to summer. Perfect time to get people in the mood.”

The university music contest was a yearly event and the only reason they had even started their little band. The four of them met in music composition class and were paired up for a project right at the beginning of the semester. It went well, they had a good grade and their music and ideas flowed well together, so when the sign-ups for the contest opened, it was only natural that they had looked at each other and grinned with ideas of participating running through all their minds.

“That’s so overdone though,” Mingi grumbled, leaning over Hongjoong’s arm to read the list they had so far.

“What do you suggest then?” Yunho looked at him, unimpressed.

“We should sing about growing up and everything that comes with it. You can never go wrong with some good old nostalgia,” Mingi said as if it were an obvious answer.

“Because that isn’t overdone?” Yunho raised an eyebrow.

“Everything is overdone if you think about it too much.” Hongjoong shrugged.

He added ‘nostalgia’ to their list too.

As he wrote the word, Mingi and Yunho started bickering on the other side of the table about which of their ideas was better and which one was cliché and overdone. Despite their debate, both of them were smiling and leaning over the table so they were closer to each other and it was clear that the argument was more so for fun than for the sake of being right.

Jongho sighed, not bothering with trying to understand how their dynamic worked. At this point, he was too used to it to even question it. The only thing he worried about was that it didn’t seem like they would find a solution to their problem today either.

They had been working on their song, or what would hopefully be their song, for over a week with consistent meetings after classes to bring their ideas together and brainstorm, and yet they were struggling to get it off the ground and come up with something concrete that all of them agreed on. Even today, after almost two hours, the list in Hongjoong’s notebook was growing longer and they weren’t any closer to settling on anything.

Back when they started, they decided that the best course of action for them would be to start by finding out what they wanted their song to talk about or, as Mingi insisted every time the topic came up, the ‘vibe’ they wanted their song to exude. It made sense to them to start there, get a concrete idea of which direction to take their instruments and lyrics, and then start writing and producing it.

During the first few meetings, even when they struggled with settling on something, they were still confident, they believed they would get there soon and that the more ideas the merrier. The problem came after a few days when the list of ideas grew and grew without them being able to agree on one. At least, some of the ideas from past sessions had already been crossed out, lowering the number, but, right now, between feelings, seasons, places and even colours, Hongjoong’s notebook had almost thirty words and they were getting overwhelmed by all the possibilities.

It would be fine, Jongho was sure, they just needed a breakthrough to push them in the right direction.

“Maybe we should sleep on it,” Jongho said.

“We’ve been sleeping on it for a week,” Yunho groaned.

Jongho sighed. It was true, but he didn’t know what more they could do right now.

Seemingly thinking the same, Hongjoong shrugged and stretched his arms above his head before stifling a yawn.

“We’re clearly not going anywhere right now,” he said. “We have vague topics and that’s it.”

Despite the stress that their indecision was bringing to the table, they weren’t in a hurry. The contest was still months away and they had written songs for their classes in more of a time crunch than this, but it felt like everything was riding on this first decision, the one that would dictate their entire song and performance were dependent on it so they knew they had to make it count.

“We could each write something small this weekend, just a few lyrics to get us started and, next week, we can see if we can use them,” Mingi suggested.

He grabbed Hongjoong’s notebook and read over the topics again, ignoring the glare that Hongjoong immediately sent his way.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Yunho nodded.

Hongjoong got up to pull the notebook from Mingi’s grip again and picked up his phone. He angled it towards the notebook, took a picture of the page, and plopped back down on his seat as he typed.

“It doesn’t have to be on the list, obviously,” Hongjoong said and Jongho felt his phone vibrate with a new message. “It can be something completely different.”

“So, we write some lyrics this weekend and see what we have on Monday?” Jongho summarized.

Hongjoong nodded.

“If we still don’t have anything by the end of next week, maybe we should think of trying a different method. Start with the instruments instead perhaps.”

“Are we dismissed then?” Yunho asked.

He was already out of his seat, leaning over the table as he stuffed his backpack with his papers and pencils, an eager look on his face.

“I’m not your professor.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “You don’t need my permission to leave.”

“You sound like one sometimes,” Yunho laughed and patted his shoulder.

Hongjoong ignored him.

“Are you that happy to get rid of us already?” Jongho asked, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms, a dramatic pout on his lips.

“I always am.” Yunho grinned. 

“I thought we would get something to eat together,” he said because they usually would and Jongho was starting to get hungry.

Yunho’s smile turned apologetic.

“Sorry, I can’t today,” he said. “I have a date.”

“You have a date?” Jongho asked, voice raised, forgetting everything about plans to go to the coffee shop near campus that they regularly went to.

“Don’t act so shocked.” Yunho glared at him. “It’s not that weird.”

“It is a little,” Jongho smirked. “Who do you even have a date with? You spent most of your time with us.”

“I do know other people, my life isn’t just you, Jongho-yah.” Yunho rolled his eyes, grabbing his backpack. “And it’s none of your business.”

He winked at them and waved as he left the room, ignoring Jongho as he yelled after him that, as his friend, he deserved to know who he was going out with. It seemed he was the only one who cared though. Next to him, Mingi didn’t look shocked in the slightest which didn’t surprise Jongho. He always knew everything, especially about Yunho. Hongjoong didn’t seem to care either, too busy writing something in his notebook to even look up.

“What about you guys then?” Jongho asked them. “Since Yunho decided to betray us, do you want to call it a day and get something to eat?”

Mingi immediately grimaced and Jongho glared at him before he could even say anything.

“Come on, not you too.”

“Sorry, I have to go, too.”

Oddly, as he got up from his seat and started picking up his things, his movements were quick and a little clumsy and, strangest of all, there was a tinge of pink to his cheeks as he firmly avoided eye contact.

Jongho narrowed his eyes as he watched him speed through putting his laptop and notebooks in his bag and grabbing his coat. He shifted his gaze to share a curious look with Hongjoong who finally seemed to be more interested in what was happening in the room, the two of them staring at Mingi intently which only made his movements even sloppier.

“In a hurry?” Hongjoong asked.

Mingi seemed startled by the question despite how normal it was, and the grin that he sent their way only made Jongho feel all the more suspicious.

“You know,” Mingi said. “Places to be, people to see.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow at him and shared another incredulous look with Hongjoong.

“You’re being weird,” Jongho said.

“No, I’m not,” Mingi laughed, a little awkward. “I’m just a little late.”

He zipped up his coat and put a white beanie on his head, still making as little eye contact with them as possible.

“To go where?” Hongjoong asked.

“Places,” Mingi said again. “Bye, guys.”

Before Jongho or Hongjoong could say anything, he was already out of the door and Jongho sighed, confused.

“What’s wrong with him?”

Hongjoong chuckled, no trace of the bewilderment that Jongho was feeling anywhere in his expression.

“You know something,” Jongho pointed out, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know anything for sure.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“What’s that look for then?”

“I’m just hoping that he’s Yunho’s date so I can win my bet.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Jongho asked, shocked.

“Seonghwa is convinced they will only start dating when the school year ends. I refuse to believe it will take them so long.”

“What?” Jongho repeated.

Hongjoong looked at him from the corner of his eye and started laughing.

“Why are you so surprised?” He asked. “You spend so long with them, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed they like each other by now.”

Jongho blinked. No, he had not noticed anything.

“They’re dating?”

“You really didn’t notice,” Hongjoong mumbled, looking entirely too amused. “I knew you were hopeless with knowing when someone is into you, but I didn’t think it was a general thing.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Jongho glared at him.

Hongjoong only smiled at him, uncaring of the glare.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “And I don’t know if they’re actually dating, okay? I just hope they are because I can’t lose to Seonghwa of all people.”

Even if he wasn’t sure of what he was saying, Hongjoong seemed convinced enough by his theory that Jongho promised himself he would pay more attention to his friends and the way they acted around each other to see if he really was missing something.

“What about you?” He changed the subject. “Somewhere to be?”

Hongjoong shook his head.

“I was thinking of staying here and working for a bit.”

Jongho nodded, he should have known. After their band meetings, Jongho, Mingi and Yunho usually went out to get something to eat, unwind and talk before going home, but more often than not, Hongjoong only spent a little bit with them before he went back to the empty classroom they used to work on his personal projects.

“Have fun with that,” Jongho said. “I’m going home.”

Hongjoong nodded at him, drumming his fingers on the table as he waited for his laptop to turn on.

“Don’t forget to eat something,” Jongho said, picking up his things.

“I won’t,” Hongjoong promised. “And Jongho-yah?”

Jongho turned back around to look at him.

“Open your eyes.”

Jongho didn’t know what he was talking about, but he didn’t think he wanted to know either. He flipped Hongjoong off just because he could and left the room, ignoring the loud laughter he left behind.

***

Jongho had spent the bus ride back to his apartment thinking about their song and what he had to do during the weekend. He had his phone on his lap, the picture Hongjoong had sent of his notebook open, and his eyes kept reading over the list that he already had memorized.

He still wasn't sure which theme he was more interested in, but there was a melody stuck in his head the entire trip and his fingers were itching to get home and strum his guitar strings until it became more concrete.

Therefore, after he stepped inside the apartment and got out of his shoes and into more comfortable clothes, the first thing he did was sit on his bedroom floor, his legs crossed and his back resting against the wall, with his guitar on his lap.

He bit the bottom of his pen, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to figure out which chord progression was the right one for the melody that had been running through his mind. It wasn’t an upbeat or fun melody, there was something mellow and melancholic to it, and Jongho wanted to do it justice, so he played around for a long time, trying to make it sound as good as possible.

Eventually, he crossed out a few words on the list that he had transferred to his own notebook. They didn’t feel right and they didn’t match what he had in mind. At least, there was some progress.

As he strummed his guitar, switching from a D major chord to an A major, Jongho heard the front door of the apartment opening, followed closely by the sound of voices and laughter spilling into the living room. 

He tried to ignore it, frowning when A major didn’t sound right either. It didn’t sound bad, but it wasn’t what he wanted either. He was growing increasingly frustrated and the tiredness after a full day of classes wasn’t helping.

He sighed, repeating the same chord progression he already had written down over and over, willing his brain to find where the problem was as he tried to discover how to fix it. He could feel the answer on the tip of his fingertips but it was just taking too long to reach it and it wasn’t doing any wonders to his mood.

Annoyed, Jongho huffed, tilting his head back until it hit the wall. It was frustrating to feel so close to what he wanted and not be able to play it properly, as if his mind and ideas weren’t connecting with his hands on the guitar the way they were supposed to.

Just as he was about to put his guitar to the side and start pacing around the room in irritation, a knock sounded on his door. It was soft and patient and it could only belong to one person.

“Jongho-yah?” Came from the other side.

Jongho looked at the door and sighed, rubbing his eyes to help get himself out of his head.

“Yes?” He answered.

Immediately, the door opened a crack, just enough for Jongho to catch a glimpse of the corridor, and Yeosang popped his head inside to look at him. Even if Jongho hadn’t heard the front door open, he would still know, as soon as he laid eyes on Yeosang, that he had just come back from the outside. 

His hair was dishevelled from the wind and his cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. There was a pink scarf still wrapped around his neck, but, despite the cold, he was smiling brightly at Jongho.

Maybe Jongho could write about winter for their song. They could sing about the snow and the cold that bites at your skin and have lyrics about the shades of white and blue that take over the scenery, all around except on people’s blushy and red cheeks.

“Are you busy?” Yeosang asked.

“A little bit.”

“Wooyoung and San came over,” he said. “We're going to watch a movie, do you want to come?”

A part of him wanted to accept, the part that was tired and frustrated and the part that always wanted to spend time with Yeosang. He got along well with both Wooyoung and San too and it had been a while since he had hung out with them, so it would probably do him good to catch up with them, but, at the same time, he wasn’t sure whether he would be good company right now. He was way too annoyed and he knew himself well enough to know he would be restless until he found the answers he was looking for to figure out this song.

“Not today,” he said, regrettably. “I’m working on something.”

He gestured vaguely to the guitar he was holding and the notebook in front of him as an explanation as if Yeosang hadn’t seen it already.

“Is it the song for the contest?” Yeosang asked.

Jongho nodded.

“Yes, we’re struggling a little.”

Yeosang winced, tilting his head so it was resting against the doorframe. There was a sympathetic pout on his lips and Jongho needed to look away immediately.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Yeosang said. “You’re a music genius.”

Jongho rolled his eyes with a chuckle, trying to ignore the way the words made his cheeks turn rosy to the point they were matching Yeosang’s.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he waved him off.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t make it any less true though.”

Jongho opened his mouth to deny it again, but Yeosang looked at him pointedly to make him stay quiet, an amused look on his face.

“Just accept the compliment, Jongho-yah,” Yeosang said. “And join us at any point, if you want. San and Wooyoung want to see you too.”

Jongho nodded, trying to get rid of the thoughts about Yeosang complimenting him so easily and nonchalantly. He was being a nice friend and trying to bring up Jongho’s confidence, that was all. He wanted Jongho to succeed and not lose himself too much inside his head. It didn’t mean anything else, so there was absolutely no reason for it to make Jongho blush so much.

“I will if I finish this before you’re done,” he said.

Despite declining, Jongho knew that, most likely, he wouldn’t make much progress with the song for a while. He was still fighting with the chord progression and he was losing miserably, but he didn’t want to tell Yeosang that.

Maybe being busy was a blessing in disguise though, Jongho didn’t know if he trusted himself to be in Yeosang’s presence for a prolonged amount of time right now. Not when his brain was tired and his body seemed to be reacting too much with merely a few words.

Yeosang knew him too well though and he seemed aware that Jongho was just trying to placate him. He stared at Jongho for a few more seconds, clearly not convinced by what he was saying. Still, he didn’t comment and just let Jongho be for now.

“We’re only a room away,” Yeosang reminded him.

He smiled at Jongho, somehow both teasing and gentle, and gave him a little wave even though he wouldn’t leave the house. His cheeks and nose were a little less red now that he was warming up but his eyes were still bright and happy.

For a foolish moment, Jongho thought about asking him to stay. He pondered being selfish and asking Yeosang to keep him company for a few more minutes instead of going back to his friends who were waiting for him. Maybe they could sit together while Jongho played around with his guitar and he could show Yeosang what he had and ask for his opinion.

It was stupid though. Yeosang wanted to have fun with his friends and Jongho had no right to prevent him from doing so. Plus, what would he even show Yeosang? There was nothing concrete to the song yet, he had three chords and that was it.

He needed to get a grip on himself and stop being as desperate as he was to spend time with Yeosang. 

So, Jongho stayed quiet as he watched Yeosang leaving his room and closing the door behind him, wishing that he was brave enough to tell Yeosang what truly went through his head every time he looked at him.

After a minute of staring at his closed door as if it could give him all the answers he was looking for and all the courage he didn’t have, Jongho picked up his pen and leaned down to write in his notebook the first words of what he hoped would be a decent song.

Told myself that I'd be fine and turned away

Only to be wounded by the thorns of regret

***

It was sunny for the first time in almost a month and Jongho was planning on enjoying it to the fullest until night fell.

He had dragged a chair from its place on the table and placed it next to the window so he could sit there with his guitar on his lap. The light filtered through the glass in golden hues and warmed up the classroom, making Jongho relax as he strummed the strings.

It was Monday and his last class had ended almost twenty minutes early much to his relief. He had barely paid attention, his brain too busy running through the song he had started on Friday. In the end, his notebook had more random lyrics scattered through the pages than notes for his classes and, the moment the class was dismissed, Jongho immediately headed to the music room.

The band had agreed to meet there in one hour, after all their classes were done for the day, to discuss the progress they had made during the weekend and Jongho was happy that he had something to share with them.

He kept working on the song as he waited. He didn’t have much as of yet, only a few possible chord progressions and lines that weren’t connected and could definitely be better, but it was at least something that they could work with if the others liked it too.

Because, despite how much potential he thought the song had, Jongho wasn’t sure how the others would feel about it. Maybe they would have something good too or they wouldn't want to make a sad song, after all, even though they had various ideas and hadn't settled on one, the words on the list Hongjoong wrote were leaning more towards fun songs. He wasn’t sure if it would work for the contest but, either way, he liked what he had so far and that meant something to him.

This song meant something to him.

There was only one thing that Jongho was dreading: the possibility of his friends asking where he got the inspiration for the song. He couldn't talk about the reality behind the lyrics he wrote, not write now. Maybe not ever. He would have to say that it didn't come from anywhere specific convincingly enough for them to believe him without raising any questions he wasn't ready to answer right now.

“Already here?”

The sudden voice startled Jongho and he looked up from his guitar, surprised to see Mingi standing by the door staring at him with a raised eyebrow. He had been so distracted in his thoughts and in his music that he hadn’t even heard the door opening.

“Class ended early today.” He shrugged.

Mingi nodded, putting his bag and jacket down on the table in the center of the room, and walked up to where Jongho was sitting.

“What are you doing?”

He stood behind Jongho and looked over his head to see what he was doing. He paused as he read over the mess of lines and chords on the page of Jongho’s notebook, his fingers drumming on the back of Jongho’s chair.

Sharing his music was something that Jongho was used to by now. He had done it plenty of times in classes and, even before that, when he was writing songs as a teenager. Usually, he loved sharing his music, even when it wasn't complete and he wasn't fully confident about it if only to see people's reactions.

However, as he waited for Mingi to say something, Jongho felt strangely nervous in a way he hadn't expected. This song felt different, too personal even if there wasn't much to it yet. He felt vulnerable having someone see what he wrote as if he were opening up his head and his heart and letting Mingi see too far into it.

“Is this for the contest?” Mingi finally asked.

Jongho shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant as possible even if his heart was in his throat for no reason.

“Yes,” he said. “If you guys like it, we can use it.”

Mingi’s hands came up to rest on Jongho’s shoulders, squeezing softly as if he could tell how tense Jongho was and that the song meant more to him than he was letting on.

“I don’t think this song deserves to be locked away in your drafts,” Mingi said.

Jongho turned his head to look at him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I think we should work with it. It has potential, Jongho-yah.”

He sounded sincere and he was smiling at Jongho like he really enjoyed what he had read.

“You think so?” Jongho asked, biting his lip as he looked back at his notebook.

“Yeah,” Mingi assured. “Those lines sound a little sad but sadness can be beautiful.”

Flattered, Jongho smiled. Compliments to his music made his heart fly like nothing else could. Every line he wrote and every note he combined was the fruit of his passion and dedication, it was his craft and he couldn't help but feel protective of it. Even when his songs weren’t as vulnerable as this one, everything he wrote still came from inside and he always worked so hard to make sure they sounded as perfect as he could make them.

It felt good to know that someone else liked the product of his work, to hear sincere words and know that he had created something that could be appreciated by someone else, that it could make a person feel.

He should have known that if there was someone who would appreciate the beauty in negative feelings and know what Jongho needed to hear, it would be Mingi.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely.

Mingi grinned at him, supportive in every way, and, before he could say anything else, the classroom door opened again and Yunho and Hongjoong stepped inside. They were chatting animatedly but they stopped at once when they saw the two of them already inside. Yunho smiled brightly at them and Hongjoong blinked in surprise.

“Oh, you’re already here,” he said.

“Jongho has something to show us,” Mingi went straight to business instead of greeting them.

Jongho snickered at the eagerness.

“Let them sit down at least. Plus, I’m sure I’m not the only one with something to show.”

“Ah, about that,” Hongjoong said from where he was sitting on one of the chairs at the table waiting for his laptop to turn on. “I did write something, but I don’t think it will work for the contest.”

“I don’t have much,” Yunho said, pulling a chair too. “But I do think we should take summer out of our potential topics.”

Mingi was the first to laugh at the words.

“I did tell you it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Yes, you’re so smart.” Yunho rolled his eyes.

“What made you change your mind?” Jongho asked.

“I couldn’t come up with anything good,” Yunho groaned. “I tried.”

Jongho winced at how frustrated he sounded. He knew all too well how disappointing it was to try so hard to achieve something, to make something, and have it not work out. He had been there multiple times before and it never got easier.

He watched as Mingi walked up to Yunho and stopped behind him, one of his hands gripping his bicep and the other running through the back of his hair. Usually, Jongho wouldn't think much of it, after all, this was Yunho and Mingi and they had always been touchy and comfortable with each other. After what Hongjoong said on Friday though, Jongho's eyes were glued to the movement of Mingi's hands.

Was there really something going on between them that Jongho had never noticed?

“What about you?” Yunho tilted his head back to look at Mingi. “Do you have anything for your nostalgic song?”

Mingi flicked the back of his neck with a finger for the comment, making Yunho wince through a laugh.

“As a matter of fact, I did write something,” he said. “We can't use it though. It's too personal and I wouldn’t want to use it for a contest.”

He looked at them apologetically, but Jongho knew that none of them minded that Mingi ended up writing something for himself. The process of creating something artistic from nothing could be unpredictable, there could be an idea at the beginning and a result that deviated completely from it. They all knew that first-hand.

“That makes sense.” Yunho nodded.

He lifted one of his hands to squeeze Mingi’s on his arm and, once again, Jongho watched, both fascinated by how much he seemed to have missed and worried that he was now reading too much into gestures that didn’t mean anything.

“Well, here’s what I have,” Hongjoong said, turning his laptop around so they could see.

Jongho left his seat by the window and the warmth of the sun rays that were already lowering in the sky and leaned his guitar against the wall before approaching them so he could look at Hongjoong’s laptop too.

“It’s very unpolished for now,” Hongjoong said while they read. “And I’m really not sure if it's the kind of song that we could use for a university contest.”

There was an edge of annoyance and anger to the lyrics, the words harsh and to the point. It was good even if Hongjoong said it wasn’t polished, but Jongho could see where he was coming from when he questioned if it would be appropriate for the contest.

“What do you think?” Hongjoong asked.

“I think it sounds good,” Yunho said, nodding his head as he stared at the screen.

“But would you use it for the contest?”

“Depends,” Jongho said. “Do we want to win or to just have fun and entertain the audience?”

Because the song would be good if they were only thinking about the audience, the other students who would be listening. It was the kind of song that called for attention, gripped it and didn't let go. Students would appreciate the harshness of the lyrics and the unafraid tone.

However, if they wanted to win, they would have to think about the juries too and those, Jongho wasn’t sure would appreciate it as much.

“We’re here to win, obviously,” Hongjoong said, a grin on his face.

It seemed that he was thinking along the same lines as Jongho was and, when Mingi hummed his agreement and Yunho nodded, he knew that they were on the same page.

“I really like the lyrics though,” Mingi said. “I’d like to work on it with you if you’d let me, even if we don’t use it for the contest.”

Hongjoong blinked, surprise colouring his face despite the many times that they had all complimented his lyrical work in the months they had been working together.

“Of course.” Hongjoong nodded. “I would be happy to work with you.”

Mingi grinned at him happily and then gestured towards Jongho.

“Should we look at what Jongho has too? I think you’ll like it, even though it’s a little depressing.”

Jongho rolled his eyes and took the cue to place his notebook on the table for them to take turns reading over it.

“We’ve all seen the songs you write, Mingi-yah,” Yunho patted his thigh. “You don’t get to talk about depressing songs.”

Mingi grumbled something under his breath, but didn't even try to deny it and the three of them leaned closer to see what Jongho had written in his notebook.

As he watched them, the nerves came back to Jongho. His thoughts and feelings were scattered all over those pages and Jongho didn’t think he had ever written anything, at least something that he was sharing with others, that felt this personal.

Before he could stop himself, nervous energy taking over with so many eyes staring at his work, he opened his mouth and a string of words he could barely contain came out. He felt slightly frantic, desperate to have something to say so he wouldn’t think about how vulnerable having someone reading those particular lyrics made him feel.

“It’s obviously not complete yet,” he said. “I don’t have much, just some vague idea for a melody and a few lines. Everything can change, of course. I’m also not sure about the chords for the guitar at some points, not to mention the other instruments, so I would need help with that. The lines aren't connected either. I didn’t have a lot of time to work on it during the weekend because one of my professors decided I had to write a two thousand word essay for today, but I think it shows the essence of what I was going for already.”

“Jongho,” Yunho said once Jongho was done speaking, looking at him with a mix of amusement and concern etched onto his face. “Breathe.”

Jongho nodded and, more dramatically than he wished to, he inhaled sharply, winded up from the rapid-fire words.

“What do you think?” He asked them.

“These are great,” Yunho said. “I didn’t think heartbreak would be what we would go for, but I really like it.”

Hongjoong nodded in agreement.

“I think we should use these if you would let us,” he said looking at Jongho. “If we work on it, it can be perfect for the contest.”

“You think so?” Jongho asked.

“Yes,” Mingi confirmed. “Do you want to use it for the contest?”

Jongho nodded. 

“I wouldn’t have shown it if I didn’t want to.”

The three of them shared a look and Jongho furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“It just seems very personal,” Yunho said, smiling at him gently.

It was personal, but, despite that and how vulnerable it made him feel, much like Mingi said, it didn’t feel right to let the song stay locked away in his drafts. It felt like a song that needed to be shared and heard. He wanted to share it.

 “Any reason why you went for these lyrics?” Hongjoong asked.

Jongho couldn’t tell him that he started writing after seeing Yeosang, with his cheeks pretty and pink from the cold, leaving his bedroom to spend time with his friends and he definitely couldn’t say that every single line he had written in his notebook so far had been inked onto the page with images of Yeosang’s kind smile flashing in Jongho’s mind and the knowledge that he would never feel it against his own stabbing through his chest.

Hopefully, no one would ever know how truthful the words were and who Jongho was thinking about while he wrote them. Especially Yeosang.

“Not really,” he said. “Just a challenge I gave myself.”

No one seemed to believe him but they were kind enough not to ask any more questions and put him on the spot which he appreciated endlessly.

“We’re here to listen if you ever want to tell us,” Hongjoong said. “Should we work on it for a little now?”

The mood was lifted now that they had something concrete to work with and Jongho felt accomplished to have helped with it. He knew that his friends could only help him make it better and he couldn’t wait to hear the finished result.

Maybe then, once it was complete, everything that Jongho felt would take residence within the lyrics and melody and would leave his heart alone. Maybe once everything was out of his system, he could forget how much he liked Yeosang when the chances of his feelings being reciprocated were nonexistent.

“Let’s do it,” he finally said.

They had a lot of work to do and Jongho had a lot of feelings to get over.

***

“You’re still awake?”

Jongho blinked out of his daze, startled at hearing noise that wasn't coming from his headphones, and looked up from his laptop screen and notebook. He squinted his bleary eyes as he lowered his headphones so they were hanging around his neck, trying to see in the dark room, and gave Yeosang a sheepish smile when he saw him standing in the doorway.

“Burst of inspiration,” he said even though it wasn’t fully true.

It had started as a burst of inspiration after dinner and Jongho had been quick to go to his room and pick up everything he needed to work with. Technically, Jongho should have been preparing for an upcoming presentation for one of his classes, but he hadn’t been able to ignore or push away the itch to work on the song. Somehow, without him even noticing or meaning to, the song for the contest had taken over as his main priority and, even though he knew he had other responsibilities, Jongho couldn't help but always turn back to it.

He brought everything back to the living room and, after washing the dishes, Yeosang joined him. While Jongho worked on his music, Yeosang studied quietly on the other side of the coffee table, the two of them sitting on the carpeted floor.

It was a peaceful evening. In the time they sat together, Jongho had been productive and made good progress on his work, but then his creativity started to deplenish. Stubbornly, he had remained in the living room to work, hoping that it would come back and he would be able to work a little longer.

Yeosang had left when he was done studying and, after spending some time doing his night routine, he had come back to ask Jongho if he would be done soon. Foolishly, Jongho had said ‘yes’, that he only wanted to work for a little longer and he would go to sleep, and Yeosang had left with a nod and a wish of sweet dreams.

Now, it was a few hours later, and Yeosang was back again, presumably after having already slept, while Jongho had barely moved from his place on the floor, now much more frustrated than inspired since the words weren't coming to him the way they were at the beginning of the night.

“It’s almost 2am,” Yeosang pointed out. “Are you still working on the song for the contest?”

He walked farther into the room, stopping once he was just behind Jongho so he could look over his figure to see what he had been doing.

Jongho didn't try to hide, he didn't need to. Yeosang didn't know that he was the one who came up with the idea for the song and initial lyrics and he definitely didn't know who was the inspiration behind it.

After so long hiding his feelings under lock and key, Jongho had learned how to do it, how to pretend like he felt nothing when he looked at Yeosang and like his heart didn't speed up every time their hands brushed. He was determined to never twist the lock and let his feelings out. 

Yeosang would never know, he could never know.

“Yes.”

“How is it going?”

Considering it wasn’t even March yet, things weren't too bad. The band had been working on their song for weeks and, by now, they had a good chunk of it done. They had made good progress and were starting to make the arrangements for their instruments now.

However, not everything was good and they all knew that something was missing. Jongho knew it was the lyrics, something within them wasn't working out for him and it was starting to annoy him. What they had was good, but it wasn't what he had envisioned when he first started writing the song and he didn't feel like he could rest until he figured out exactly what was wrong or missing.

“Could be better,” he said honestly. “I’m working on lyrics now.”

Jongho gestured vaguely around himself to the notebook and laptop on the coffee table and the music sheets littering the floor and watched as Yeosang took a seat on the couch behind him.

He rested his hands softly on Jongho's shoulders and squeezed, pressing his fingers against the muscles in a slow massage.

“You’re very tense,” Yeosang commented.

Jongho hummed, his eyes falling closed as he let his body relax under Yeosang’s touch. He hadn't even noticed, but, after sitting in an uncomfortable position for hours, his back was starting to ache and the gentle ministrations were more than welcomed.

Yeosang was always careful with his touches and with his words, he carried himself in a way that was gentle and caring and Jongho would always be selfish when it came to him. He would always want Yeosang’s affection. He felt like the luckiest person in the world to know that Yeosang gave it to him so easily, without hesitation, the moment that Jongho looked like he needed it.

He leaned back until he was resting against Yeosang’s knees and tilted his head back so it was resting on his thigh, sighing with his eyes closed.

Maybe he had worked too much.

“Are you tired?” Yeosang asked, his fingers dropping to Jongho's head and playing with his hair.

Jongho nodded without opening his eyes or his mouth. If they stayed like this for a little bit longer, with Yeosang's calm breathing above him and his fingers in his hair, Jongho thought he could fall asleep sitting without much problem.

“Come on.” Yeosang shook his shoulder lightly as if he knew exactly what Jongho was thinking. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Jongho groaned, annoyed that he couldn't just fall asleep right here, but moved again. He leaned away from Yeosang, albeit slowly to prolong the contact for as long as possible, and kneeled in front of the coffee table again to save his progress and turn off his laptop.

“Go get ready for bed,” Yeosang said, patting Jongho’s head playfully. “I’ll tidy this up for you.”

Even if Jongho wanted to complain, he couldn't find the energy to, so he simply nodded and accepted Yeosang's help getting up. His legs hurt from spending so long in the same position and he groaned.

Yeosang chuckled at his pout and Jongho thought maybe he should be irritated by it. It didn’t offend him though, not when Yeosang’s laughter made him feel light and happy.

Jongho looked away from him, not trusting himself in his sleepy state to keep his feelings from being obvious on his face.

Sometimes, Jongho felt like he didn't deserve Yeosang. 

Yeosang was always so good to him, too good. He was so kind, so gentle and he always gave so freely that it made Jongho feel inadequate, like he wasn't enough. He wanted to give back, to make Yeosang feel as good and as cared for as Yeosang did for him, but he was afraid that he could never reciprocate in the way that Yeosang deserved, not because he didn't want to, but because Yeosang deserved everything lovely in the world and Jongho wasn't enough.

“Is there anywhere in particular where you would like me to put everything?”

Jongho shrugged.

“Just leave it on the table, I’ll have to work on it tomorrow again.”

Yeosang nodded and ruffled Jongho's hair before pushing him in the direction of the corridor.

“I’ll handle it, go now.”

Jongho obeyed easily, walking down the corridor to the bathroom. He really was tired, more tired than he had noticed before Yeosang had woken him up from his inspiration-induced daze, and now he wanted nothing more than to lie on his bed and go to sleep.

He did his night routine mechanically, his eyes feeling heavy and his limbs a little uncoordinated. He got through it slowly and he stumbled his way through his room as he picked up the clothes he had discarded on top of his bed.

Yeosang knocked on his bedroom door when Jongho was putting his clothes away, his pyjamas already on. He smiled at Jongho when he told him to come in and nodded appreciatively when he saw that he was ready to sleep.

“Good,” he commented. “I thought I would have to knock you out myself.”

Jongho rolled his eyes, an amused smile on his face.

“Don’t be violent now,” he teased.

Yeosang laughed and, as usual, it made Jongho feel warm inside.

“Goodnight, Jjongie,” Yeosang said, still smiling.

“Hyung?” He called before Yeosang could leave.

Yeosang turned to give him his full attention immediately.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he said, words quiet in the room.

Yeosang smiled brightly at him.

“You don't have to thank me, Jjongie, that's what I’m here for. “And I like taking care of you.”

Jongho's insides felt fluttery and he hoped that Yeosang couldn't see the way his words made him blush so easily.

“Thank you, anyway,” he said.

“Sleep well,” Yeosang said.

“Good night,” Jongho answered.

Yeosang left, closing the door behind him and leaving the room and Jongho’s heart feeling a little more empty.

With a sigh, Jongho turned off the light and lay in bed. There was so much more than a ‘thank you’ that he wanted to say to Yeosang but couldn't, so many words that could ruin what they had and never let them rebuild it again.

As his head hit the pillow, the bed empty and cold around him, he found the answer to what was missing in their song. It was those words that he wanted to say but couldn't directly, all the things he was afraid of doing, the longing that haunted him every time he wanted Yeosang next to him but couldn't ask.

Longing .

The longing that Jongho felt to have Yeosang next to him right now, lying next to him, warming up his sheets and Jongho's body. The longing to feel his gentle hands and to hear his kind words in his ear.

It would never happen, not in the way that Jongho craved, and so the longing would remain.

Jongho was doomed to keep yearning.

If nothing else, at least it would make for a good song.

***

It was the end of March and, in between essays and midterms, the band had managed to almost finish their song much to Jongho's surprise.

In the beginning, he hadn't been so confident and, as weeks passed and they encountered new problems and struggled with the arrangement of all the instruments and the lyrics, he thought that maybe they wouldn’t be done in time.

Surprisingly though, it had all worked out in the end and now they had roughly two weeks before the contest and all they had to do was rehearse and adjust any minor issues they found.

Rehearsals took up a considerable part of Jongho’s week now. More often than not, they ended late into the evening since it was hard to coordinate all their different schedules and odd hours were their only solution. Jongho didn't mind though. He loved playing guitar and singing, he loved that the four of them could make a song that had been barely an idea in his mind a month ago into something concrete.

Lately, he also loved rehearsals because they kept him away from home.

Jongho wasn't proud of it, he knew he was being an idiot, but he couldn't help himself. It had always been a little hard to have Yeosang so close physically but so far away in all the other ways that Jongho wanted him. It tugged at his heart and it hurt him more than he would ever admit to anyone. 

But he knew that, as much as he wanted for Yeosang to like him back, feelings couldn’t be forced and he could never hold it against Yeosang. So, he had let it be and had learned how to live in the same space as him without letting it affect him too much. He did it for as long as he could, longer than he thought he would have to, but his feelings simply didn’t dissipate and, as time passed, it only got harder to hide the hurt.

Now, with the song for the contest almost complete, the song that Yeosang had inspired without even knowing, it was even more complicated.

It was the opposite of what Jongho had wanted and hoped for.

Foolishly, he had thought that letting his feelings out onto the pages of his notebook and turning them into a song would help him deal with them and maybe move past them, turn to a new page of his life and away the fantasies of something he would never have with him. He had hoped that writing the song would feel cathartic, a stepping stone to moving on.

In reality, the opposite happened.

The more Jongho wrote about Yeosang and put everything together to make something beautiful out of his unrequited feelings and emotions, the more they settled into his heart. Every word on the page was a reminder of everything that Jongho felt for Yeosang, from the moment they met until now, it was a reminder that he loved Yeosang but that he would never receive the same type of love back.

The reminder was painful, it cut deeper than Jongho thought it ever could, and, without knowing what to do or how to deal with it, he did the only thing he could think about and put some distance between them. If writing a song didn't work, then maybe seeing Yeosang as little as possible would.

So, rehearsal was a good excuse and Jongho used it more than he probably should, for, even as the others left, he remained in the music room, doing everything he could think of to occupy himself and not go home until Yeosang was already asleep.

He missed Yeosang. He missed spending time with him, having dinner together and spending their evenings studying in their living room, but he knew that he couldn’t complain. He was the one who brought the distance upon himself, the one who pushed Yeosang away. Jongho had no right to miss him now.

He closed his eyes and let the music take over him.

He strummed his guitar, playing the song that was an intrinsic part of him by now, fingers moving automatically over the neck of the guitar, finding home on the strings and frets where they belonged.

He was used to playing the song with the rest of the band at this point, they always went over it together in rehearsals and, when Jongho did play it alone, it was more in a critical manner to find anything he might need to change. Playing it like this, finalized and for himself when no one else could hear, felt different as if he were truly touching his own feelings.

The lyrics came out of his mouth easily, the words he was too much of a coward to say outside of a song, and his voice flowed freely in the room.

Hopefully, after the contest, enough time would have passed for Jongho’s feelings to fade away and he would be able to go home and act normally around Yeosang again.

He wasn’t too hopeful, he knew that his feelings were much too strong to fade away so effortlessly, but he had to hold onto something. If he wanted to stay afloat and not lose himself into a pit of despair, he needed that small bit of hope.

If only I could convey my feelings

If I could meet you once again

You were everything to me

***

Mingi was jumping up and down backstage, Yunho’s hands grabbing onto his arm to try holding him down a little. A little behind them, Hongjoong was pacing back and forth, mumbling the lyrics of their song to himself.

It was finally the day. After two months of working on their song and practising, it was finally time to show it to people at the contest they had made it for in the first place. 

Jongho wasn’t sure whether he was nervous or not. His heart was beating fast and his hands were shaking slightly, but he felt strangely peaceful. This song was special to him and it had never felt right to keep it hidden, he wanted to show it, he wanted to let his thoughts and his feelings out into the world. Everything felt too big to keep contained and it was now time for release.

"Are you guys ready?" One of their professors who was helping backstage asked." It's almost your turn.”

Right now, there was a girl who Jongho shared a few classes with on stage. She was playing an acoustic guitar and singing about lonely winter nights, her voice filling up the auditorium and the backstage area. After her, there would only be two more acts before they were called to the stage.

“We're always ready," Yunho grinned.

The professor laughed and moved away from them to talk to the trio that would perform next.

“Are we ready?” Jongho asked.

Mingi threw an arm around his shoulders and brought him closer, pulling him until Jongho was standing between him and Yunho.

“Of course, we're ready, my dear Jongho,” he said. “Why wouldn't we be?”

Jongho shrugged, both because he didn't know what to say and to try knocking Mingi's arm down.

“Are you ready?” Yunho asked. “It is your song after all.”

“It's our song,” Jongho said. “We all worked on it.”

“It came from you though.”

Jongho didn't have a chance to reply as Hongjoong approached them, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared directly at him.

“I thought we weren't supposed to bring anyone backstage.”

There was a teasing edge to his voice and he raised an eyebrow when Jongho stared at him without saying anything.

“What?” Jongho finally asked.

“Yeosang is outside.”

Jongho tensed up, blinking at Hongjoong to make sure he was hearing him right.

“What?”

“Is that the only thing you can say?” Mingi snickered.

The three of them seemed entirely too amused and Jongho forced himself to ignore them.

“I went outside to call Hwa and he asked for you.” Hongjoong shrugged. “If you want to talk to him, you should go now. We'll be called to the stage soon, you don't have much time.”

Jongho stood there, his body tense, confused about what Yeosang could possibly be doing backstage. They hadn’t talked properly in a few days, much because of Jongho’s stubbornness, and he couldn’t guess what had brought Yeosang to the backstage area. It worried him though, if it weren’t important, Yeosang would have waited.

“Go on,” Yunho said, pushing Jongho's shoulder until he moved forward. “If he asked for you, you shouldn't keep him waiting.”

Jongho nodded although he still felt hesitant and slowly walked towards the door.

As Hongjoong had said, Yeosang was waiting right outside the backstage area, leaning on the wall and scrolling through his phone. He looked up as soon as Jongho opened the door, not even giving him time to prepare himself for whatever conversation they were about to have.

“You actually came outside,” Yeosang said.

His voice sounded a little weird, an edge of something Jongho couldn't identify within the words. He was looking at Jongho and there was a slight frown on his face, almost unnoticeable as if he was trying to hide it. Jongho could see it though and it only made him worry more.

“Of course,” he said. “Hongjoong said you asked for me, of course I would come.”

Yeosang chuckled but there was nothing amused about the sound. Rather, he sounded almost bitter, the tone of it stinging.

“Hyung?” Jongho asked. “Is everything okay?”

He was growing quite worried. Yeosang had never looked at him like this, he would smile and laugh and tease, but now there was a crease between his eyebrows and the look in his eye wasn't the pleasantly warm one that he usually aimed at Jongho.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Jongho blinked at him. He hadn’t known what to expect from this conversation, but a confrontation about this was definitely not on his mind. He should have seen it coming.

Yeosang's words made guilt build up under his skin and Jongho looked away from him.

He couldn't even deny it. He had been avoiding Yeosang, he still didn't know how to be in the same room as him without fearing that he would give himself and his feelings away. He was afraid of showing them on his skin, of the intensity of them and how much he always wanted to sit closer to Yeosang, to reach out a hand and touch his arm or his back or his hair.

“Will you say something?” Yeosang asked.

He was looking at Jongho with a small glare but his expression looked more sad and hurt than angry and it only made Jongho feel worse. This was not what he had wanted, he had only been thinking about protecting himself and his feelings, but he could see now, better than ever, the mistake he had made.

“I'm sorry.”

Yeosang scoffed and Jongho winced. He had never seen Yeosang like this and knowing that he was the reason for it only made him feel worse. This was his fault and, for it, he deserved worse than Yeosang’s glare.

“Why?” Yeosang asked, more defeated than anything else now.

And what was Jongho supposed to say? He only had two options. He could either lie and make something up on the spot, some cheap excuse about being too busy and not having as much time to be home, or he could tell him the truth, put his heart on the line and let Yeosang do whatever he wanted with it.

But it was scary. Opening up so much and letting Yeosang in on something that he had kept guarded for so long was frightening, he couldn't possibly predict how Yeosang would react. He knew Yeosang well enough to know that he wouldn’t do anything drastic, he would probably even be ridiculously nice and sweet while letting Jongho down, but Jongho was scared of things between them changing, of the awkwardness that could linger in the air and the permanent feeling of loss. After Yeosang rejected him, Jongho wouldn't be able to pretend that being loved back was a possibility anymore.

But Yeosang was still looking at him, his expression hurt and confused, and he didn't deserve to feel like that, he didn't deserve for Jongho to leave him hanging, to leave him with cheap excuses Yeosang would know were lies.

“Jongho-yah.”

Both Jongho and Yeosang looked up at Hongjoong's voice and Jongho sighed when he saw him standing at the door, an apologetic smile on his face as he realized that he was interrupting something important.

“We're on stage next.”

Jongho nodded with a sigh, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He didn’t know what to do and the timing of everything was terrible. He had to focus on the contest but he couldn't leave Yeosang like this.

“Can you buy me a minute?” He asked.

Hongjoong's eyes shifted from Jongho to Yeosang and back again.

“I'll try,” he said. “But be quick.”

Hongjoong disappeared inside again and Jongho turned to Yeosang, heart beating faster at the knowledge that he would have to make a decision right now. It couldn't wait, whatever Jongho said next would dictate how their relationship would move forward.

“I'm sorry,” Yeosang said before he could choose. “I should have waited. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that before the contest. I just didn't know how to talk to you without you running away from me.”

Jongho shook his head. Yeosang shouldn't be apologizing, it felt wrong to even listen to the words coming out of his mouth. Jongho didn't deserve them. It was his fault, he made Yeosang feel like he couldn't talk to him properly, like he didn't care anymore.

“No, no,” Jongho said quickly. “Don't apologize. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away.”

Yeosang sighed, looking away from Jongho for a second before he looked at him again, sadness taking over his gaze.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Jongho-yah?”

Jongho bit his lip. This was it.

“Jongho-yah.”

Jongho groaned when he turned around and saw Hongjoong at the door again.

“We really don't have more time.”

Jongho sighed and Hongjoong gave him a small encouraging smile before he turned back to give them a small chance at privacy.

“You should go,” Yeosang said. “I don't want you guys to be disqualified because of me.”

“Can we talk after the performance?” Jongho asked. “I want to tell you everything.”

And he did. He couldn't hide anymore, not when hiding was affecting and hurting Yeosang too. Hurting himself and his feelings was one thing, but making sadness run through Yeosang was another issue entirely and Jongho wouldn’t allow himself to keep hurting him.

Yeosang looked away for a second but nodded when he turned back to Jongho.

“Thank you,” Jongho said.

He knew he didn't deserve how accommodating Yeosang was towards him. Now, more than ever before, he didn’t deserve Yeosang’s endless kindness.

“You should go,” Yeosang said.

Jongho nodded and turned to leave.

Before he opened the door though, impulsively, he looked at Yeosang again and steeled himself.

“Hyung?” He called.

“Yes?”

Jongho gulped the nerves he was feeling, much worse now than earlier when the band performing in the contest was the only thing weighing him down. This was much more important than the contest. Yeosang was much more precious than anything else could ever be.

“Are you going to watch us?”

Yeosang smiled at him properly for the first time since they started talking.

“Of course,” he said as if it were that simple. “I wouldn't miss it.”

Even after everything, Yeosang was the sweetest person Jongho had ever met.

“I know I don't have the right to ask something of you right now,” he said. “But can you do something for me?”

Against everything that Jongho deserved, Yeosang looked at him fondly.

“What do you need me to do?”

Jongho looked at him, at his pretty face and lovely eyes, at the way he was looking at Jongho with so much care, ready to do anything that Jongho might need despite how little he deserved it.

“Can you pay attention to our lyrics?” He finally asked. “I wrote most of them.”

Yeosang deserved the truth, the whole truth, and Jongho would only have to accept whatever came with putting his heart in Yeosang's hands. Hopefully, he would be as gentle putting it down as he had always been with Jongho for as long as they had known each other.

Yeosang’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, but he nodded either way.

“I'll listen carefully,” he promised. “I’m sure they’re lovely.”

Jongho nodded back at him and gave him a small smile and an awkward wave, a blush rising on his face, before turning to walk backstage again.

It was time to perform and now even more stakes were on the line. It wasn't just performing to win the contest, it was, above everything else, performing for Yeosang.

***

The stage lights were still low above them as Jongho fixed the strap of his guitar on his shoulder.

To his left, Yunho was fixing the settings on the keyboard, and, behind them, Mingi was already sitting behind the drum kit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. They were waiting for Hongjoong to come back from where he was talking to one of the professors in the wing away from the audience's view.

The stage curtains weren’t being used for the contest and Jongho tried to not pay too much attention to the amount of people that were sitting in the auditorium, waiting for them to perform. When he attended the contest the year before, there had been more empty chairs and he didn't think that so many people would be interested.

Now that he was on stage and could feel the audience’s eyes on them, the nerves were making themselves known with a vengeance. Jongho's hands shook as he fumbled around with his guitar just to keep busy and he kept his eyes on what Yunho was doing to distract himself.

Finally, Hongjoong walked back to the stage and, with a grin on his face, nodded at them before getting in position.

It was time to go.

Jongho took his place at the front and, finally, gathered the courage to face the audience. The auditorium wasn't full, but there were definitely more occupied seats than empty ones and everywhere Jongho turned he saw people.

Just before the audience lights went down and the stage lights brightened, he caught a glimpse of Yeosang on the 4th row. He was sitting with Wooyoung and San and he smiled at Jongho when he caught his eye. He was there, he was watching, and he would listen to the song Jongho wrote about him.

Yunho started playing their song and Jongho joined in.

Even as the lights created a barrier between Jongho’s eyes and where Yeosang was sitting, he could still feel his presence. He knew that Yeosang was there, hearing them sing and play, and Jongho had to make his time worth it.

Hiding the song from Yeosang was never the plan, he knew that Yeosang would most likely attend the contest and he had never bothered hiding when he was playing it at home. However, he had never planned to let anyone, much less Yeosang, know that his feelings were the inspiration behind the lyrics.

But here they were now, on stage ready to play their song with Yeosang sitting in the audience.

He took a deep breath as they reached the ending portion of the intro, preparing himself to start singing. Yeosang would be listening to the lyrics, he would know that Jongho wrote them and he would know that he asked him to listen to them for a reason.

At the end of the night, Yeosang would know everything that Jongho had tried so hard to hide.

Jongho closed his eyes and started singing.

He let the music take over, singing the words he would never be brave enough to tell Yeosang in any other way and hoped that he would understand the message.

The longing he felt took hold as he sang. It seeped into his voice as he shared how much he wanted Yeosang next to him even though he could never say the right words to him. He sang about how much he missed Yeosang and the regret that gripped him every time he pulled away from him and with every word that got stuck in his throat, the guilt that consumed him knowing that he didn't deserve to be treated that way.

It was scary, being this vulnerable was frightening, and Jongho was nervous to know what would come of it. He couldn't predict how Yeosang would react but, the further they got into the song, the more he understood that this was the right thing to do. As scared as he was, Yeosang deserved to know how felt. He was precious to Jongho, more important than anyone else, and he should know that without a doubt.

As the song reached the end of the bridge into the last chorus, Yunho harmonized with him and the drums and bass swelled as their voices reached higher.

Jongho hoped that the entire auditorium could feel, even without knowing who the song was for or about, that the feelings behind it were raw and honest, that everything they were singing about came from the heart.

As the song faded and the lights dimmed into darkness, Jongho felt strangely at peace.

This was it. They had done it, they had performed in front of so many people and now they could only wait to know the result.

Backstage, Mingi threw his arms around Jongho and Hongjoong and Yunho was quick to join their hug. He was laughing brightly and it was contagious. Jongho felt light, floaty as he looked at the clear happiness on his bandmates’ faces.

“We did it!” Yunho yelled in their ears and Jongho laughed harder.

“Do you think we're going to win?” Jongho asked.

Mingi grinned.

“Of course.”

Hongjoong snorted, hitting the back of his head, but he was smiling just as happy.

“How long do we have until the results?” Jongho asked.

There was an itch under his skin. He knew that there was something he needed to do before then, it couldn't wait. Even though he wanted to avoid the possibility of getting his heart ripped out of his chest a little longer, he knew that he couldn't do it. He needed to talk to Yeosang, to know if he understood the message of the song and if he now knew what Jongho was feeling.

“About forty minutes, I think,” Hongjoong said, eyes scanning the poster with the lineup hanging on the wall.

“Okay.” Jongho nodded. “I'll be back before then.”

“Where are you going?” Yunho raised an eyebrow.

“I need to talk to Yeosang.”

He glared at them when he saw Hongjoong's smirk and the way Mingi was wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“We didn't say anything.” Yunho grinned.

“You didn’t need to.” Jongho rolled his eyes.

“Go on then,” Hongjoong knocked their shoulders together. “You shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

As much as Jongho wanted to tell them to shut up again and stop the teasing, Hongjoong was right. He didn't want to make Yeosang wait.

He l eft the room without looking at his friends again, not wanting to see the amusement on their faces. It seemed that, despite how hard Jongho had tried to keep his feelings for Yeosang under wraps, his friends knew exactly why he had to talk to Yeosang.

To his surprise, he didn't have to search for Yeosang at all as, the moment he stepped out of the backstage area, he was already waiting.

“Oh.” He blinked.

Jongho couldn’t read the look on Yeosang’s face, it was too blank as if he was consciously hiding his feelings from Jongho. It made him feel nervous, unsure of himself and of everything that was taking place. He didn’t know if Yeosang was hiding how uncomfortable he felt while he was trying to figure out how to let Jongho down or if it was something else entirely.

“You guys did really well,” Yeosang started.

“Thank you.” Jongho nodded.

His shoulders were tense and he was holding himself back from a state of fight or flight. He knew that this conversation was the culmination of everything and, for better or worse, nothing would be the same after it.

It was scary but Jongho couldn’t run away any longer.

“The song was beautiful.”

Jongho smiled at him, his cheeks flushing at the ease of the compliment. Yeosang had liked the song that he had unknowingly inspired, if he didn’t feel the same for Jongho, at least he had that.

“Thank you.”

Yeosang’s blank expression broke and a mix of fondness and amusement took over his expression as he shook his head.

“You don’t have to be so tense, Jjongie.”

If Yeosang was calling him Jjongie, then it couldn’t be that bad.

Jongho nodded and tried to relax his body though it was hard when he was still anticipating what Yeosang would say.

“Why did you tell me to listen to the song lyrics?”

Straight to the point, not wasting any time making small talk. Jongho wasn't sure if he was glad or not.

He looked away from Yeosang, not daring to meet his eye, and bit his lip as he prepared himself for whatever was to come.

“Don't you know?” He asked.

Yeosang sighed.

“I can't read your mind,” he said. “I don't want to see something that isn't there.”

Jongho sighed.

“You won't.”

“What does that mean, Jongho-yah? You have to tell me. I need to hear you say the words.”

He sounded frantic, the words rushed and he reached out his hands as if he wanted to touch Jongho only to hesitate and let them fall limp to his side.

Jongho looked at his face, took in the furrow of his eyebrows and the way the look in his eyes had turned almost desperate. He was leaning a little forward, his lips parted and his eyes wide as he stared at Jongho, waiting for him to speak.

It made Jongho inhale sharply, this was not what he had expected. He had been so sure, so convinced that he would get here and he would be let down slowly, that Yeosang would tell him that he understood the message, maybe that he appreciated it, but that he couldn’t reciprocate Jongho’s feelings. He had been trying to prepare himself for the inevitability of that.

But maybe it wasn’t inevitable all along. Maybe he had been wrong.

Because Yeosang wasn’t looking at him like someone who was about to reject him and his feelings, he looked like someone who was waiting for Jongho to say exactly what he wanted to hear.

Jongho stared at him for a second longer, steeling himself, and then nodded.

“I like you.”

“You do?” Yeosang asked, his voice softer and his cheeks pinker.

Jongho took in a shuddering breath. Yeosang wasn’t reacting badly, rather the opposite. He looked happy, relieved, excited about Jongho’s confession and it was so out of the realm of possibilities Jongho had considered that it almost made him feel like he was living a dream.

“Yes.” He nodded. “I like you a lot, hyung.”

“Jjongie…” Yeosang trailed off.

Before Jongho could say anything else, he stepped forward, his steps confident and his arms lifting to wrap around Jongho’s shoulders without hesitation.

He brought Jongho forward into a hug, his hands pressing on Jongho’s back to press their chests together, his hair tickling the side of Jongho’s face.

“What does this mean?” He asked, almost scared to hear the reply despite how tightly Yeosang was holding him.

“It means I like you too, Jongho-yah. I like you a lot,” he repeated Jongho’s words.

It made Jongho shudder in his arms, burying his face in the crook between Yeosang’s neck and shoulder.

Yeosang liked him back.

He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry, he wanted to do both, and he wanted to stay in Yeosang’s arms and never let go.

“Was that song about me?” Yeosang asked in his ear.

Jongho nodded, feeling his face heat up even more.

“Yes,” he said. "I'm sorry I pushed you away."

Yeosang shook his head, holding him tighter.

"It's okay. Just promise me you won't do it again."

Jongho nodded quickly. He regretted what he did, he would never do it again, even if Yeosang hadn't asked.

"I promise. I just didn’t think it was possible for you to ever like me back.”

“Silly Jjongie,” Yeosang chuckled. “How could I ever have lived my life without falling for you?”

Jongho groaned, hitting Yeosang’s back weakly with his fist.

“You can’t just say things like that to me.”

“Why not?” Yeosang laughed.

“Because it makes me want to kiss you.”

Jongho’s face was in flames. He had never been this bold and the words felt a little awkward on his tongue. It was quite the change from the way they were around each other mere minutes ago and, although Jongho loved the change, he was still trying to adapt to it.

Yeosang pulled back slightly and placed his hands on Jongho’s shoulders to hold him far enough to look into his face.

“You want to kiss me?” He asked and his voice was somehow both confident and bashful.

Jongho looked away, trying to avoid staring at either Yeosang’s eyes or lips.

“Do you?” Yeosang asked again.

Jongho was startled when Yeosang cupped his cheeks between his hands, making him look into his eyes again.

This time, Jongho couldn’t look away. Instead, he nodded, feeling awfully shy.

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you then?”

Jongho’s eyes widened in surprise. Despite the conversation, the question still took him by surprise.

Yeosang chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he waited patiently for Jongho’s answer.

“You can.”

Jongho felt dizzy, his head floating before Yeosang even approached him. He couldn’t believe that this was happening to him, that Yeosang was looking at him so tenderly, that he wanted to kiss him.

But it was reality.

Yeosang smiled brightly as Jongho gave him permission and nodded before leaning in.

His hands remained on Jongho’s cheeks, holding him close as he pressed their lips together. Their kiss was soft if not hesitant, their lips getting acquainted with each other slowly.

Yeosang kissed as gently as he did everything else, careful with his soft lips and with his tender hands. He touched Jongho reverently as if it was a privilege to touch him.

Jongho sighed against his lips, lifting his arms to wrap around Yeosang’s neck to bring him closer, as close as he possibly could.

Despite how new kissing Yeosang was, it felt familiar. It was like playing guitar for the first time after a while, his lips knew what to do as if they had been trained for it, like coming back home.

“I wanted to do that for so long,” Jongho mumbled against his lips as they parted slightly, noses still brushed and eyes still closed.

“You should have,” Yeosang laughed.

Jongho giggled and pressed one small kiss to his lips again. Just because he could. Just because it was something that he was allowed to do now.

He was prepared to lean in for another kiss, one that was longer now, but the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him stopped him from doing so.

Jongho turned his head to see who it was, eyes immediately settling into a glare when he saw Hongjoong standing there with a smug look on his face.

“What?” Jongho asked.

He sounded harsher than he intended to and Yeosang laughed.

“Oh, nothing.” Hongjoong raised his arms in mock surrender. “I don’t mean to interrupt but they’re going to be announcing winners soon.”

Jongho groaned, resting his head heavily against Yeosang’s chest. He didn’t want to part from him now.

“I’ll let you say goodbye,” Hongjoong said, still smiling entirely too big. “Don’t take too long.”

Jongho rolled his eyes.

“And, Jongho-yah?”

“What?”

“Thank you for making me win a bet.”

Jongho turned around in Yeosang’s arms sharply to glare at him.

“Wasn’t your bet about Mingi and Yunho?”

“We had two bets running.” Hongjoong shrugged. “For the record, Seonghwa was the one who didn’t have fate in you.”

He didn’t give Jongho time to reply and left for the backstage area again, uncaring of the unamused look on Jongho’s face.

Yeosang didn’t seem to share the sentiment for, when Jongho turned to look at him again, he was laughing silently into his hand.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked, but his attitude was dwindling and a smile was building up on his face automatically.

“You’re cute,” Yeosang said as if that answered the question.

Jongho blushed and hit his shoulder playfully to divert the attention from it.”

“Shut up.”

Yeosang chuckled but leaned forward to peck Jongho’s mouth.

“Always wanted to kiss when you pout like that.”

Jongho felt out of it, opening and closing his mouth without knowing how to reply. Maybe Yeosang liking him back would be his end after all. He didn’t know if he could survive if Yeosang kept looking at him like this and talking to him like this.

“Go on,” Yeosang grinned, pushing at Jongho’s shoulders to make him move. “Go get your prize. I’ll be waiting for you to celebrate your victory.”

“You don’t know if we’re going to win,” Jongho laughed.

“You will.”

Yeosang was looking at him with sparkly eyes, such an affectionate look in his gaze that it made Jongho’s breath get stuck in his throat. He wondered how he could have overlooked this look for so long, how he could have forbidden himself from seeing just how tender it was.

Yeosang’s pink lips stretched into a sweet smile and Jongho mirrored it easily, leaning in to steal one last kiss, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Whatever the result of the contest ended up being, Jongho had already won everything he needed in his life.