Archive of Our Own

Shinwon had been half-asleep when Hwitaek shoves an iced latte into his face, droplets of cold water condensed on the plastic cup. He grabs it and raises an eyebrow at the man who has his lips pursed around a straw, sipping on his iced Americano. Water gathers at Shinwon’s hand the moment he reaches out for the latte, which cools his sweaty palms in an instant. The heat has been unbearable for the past week, so hot that his palms are sweating not out of nerves. Even the shitty band tees that Shinwon sports throughout the summer aren’t thin enough for him to withstand the heat, so he swaps them out for muscle tanks that expose his arms and are too short for his torso. Hwitaek, always the fashionista, chooses instead to roll up the sleeves of his carefully curated T-shirt collection, most of which he has bought from expensive brands with prices that make Shinwon cringe. The rest comes from thrift shops, where he always manages to find stuff that not only looks nice, but is also branded (Shinwon, on the other hand, only ever finds faded, had-been-bright polo shirts that looks like something his dad would wear and dull quarter-zips that are ugly but keep him warm enough for the winter). 

Currently clad in a red vintage Nike T-shirt, one that Shinwon recognizes from a thrift shop trip two summers ago, sleeves bunched up at the shoulders, Hwitaek explains, “I got you coffee. You look half dead.”

“I gathered,” Shinwon groans, responding to both statements at once. He takes one glance at Hwitaek, who raises an eyebrow at him expectantly, and sighs, “Thank you.”

Hwitaek offers him a small smile and plops down next to Shinwon, “You’re welcome.” He spreads his legs wider, and his knee bumps Shinwon’s. The pair of black skinny jeans he is wearing fits him snugly, especially at the thighs, where it is distressed just enough to expose the skin there. 

Shinwon tries hard not to stare and takes a sip of his coffee, watered down by the ice that is almost fully melted, and winces at the taste, “It’s all watered down now.”

“It’s really fucking hot out, what did you expect?” Hwitaek scoffs, “Be grateful that I walked down four blocks for you to get you coffee, you diva.”

“You bought yourself coffee too.”

Hwitaek rolls his eyes, but his annoyed expression doesn’t even last for a second as it dissolves into yet another smile, an excited glint in his eyes, “C’mon. Let’s get started with practice. I wrote a new song.”

“But it’s so hot. I feel like I’m, like, melting,” Shinwon groans, but he is already moving to take out his guitar, a blue Stratocaster with chipped paint, from its case, plugging it into the amps. Hwitaek digs around in his backpack to fish out his notebook and his laptop, two essentials for band practice. 

“When are the guys coming in?” Hwitaek asks as he turns on his computer, leaning back onto the couch. The little nook their band calls the “studio” is a 12x12 box of a room that they have rented, located in possibly the dingiest buildings in the neighborhood. It’s not a lot, and it is kind of shitty, barely fitting everything a band’s studio would need, and with more royalties rolling in and their steadily rising popularity, they can probably afford somewhere a lot better, but they have grown so used to it that they haven’t really thought about moving out. Plus, Hyunggu is still in college and would appreciate that they cut costs as much as possible, so moving to a bigger and better studio has never been something that they actively discussed. 

Shinwon squints as he recalls the texts that he had received last night when he had asked who would be up for band practice, and informs the other man, “Hongseok has to work the whole day today at the café. Hyunggu has an exam he needs to revise for and he can’t be here.”

Hwitaek shrugs, and smiles when his eyes meet Shinwon’s, winking cheekily, “Well, I guess it’s just you and me.”

It’s only a joke, nothing more, that Hwitaek probably didn’t put much thought into, but Shinwon has a hard time pretending that it didn’t affect him at all. He rolls his eyes, muttering nonchalantly as he manages to fake a shudder, “Gross.” 

The other laughs, clearly amused. He reaches over to shove Shinwon gently, “C’mon. I told you I wrote a new song, didn’t I?”

“Then play it for me.”

“Bossy,” Hwitaek mutters playfully, but he starts pulling up the file on his laptop anyway, connecting it to the bluetooth speaker that they had bought together when the band first formed a long time ago. The song plays in the speaker loudly, filling in for the otherwise silence in the room.

It is a rough demo, judging from the way that it picks up sounds that most likely aren’t meant to be in the song and how the lyrics are mostly incoherent. But it’s a good song anyway, and Shinwon can envision how it would sound when it is performed by the whole band. The song is more on the quiet side, subdued and gentle, somewhat like a ballad.

“What is the song called?” 

Hwitaek shrugs, a little shy like he always is whenever he shows the band a new song. He flips open his notebook, handing it to Shinwon, “I wrote some lyrics for it, though. What do you think?”

It’s always kind of difficult to read Hwitaek’s scribbled handwriting, but Shinwon has gotten used to it throughout the years. The lyrics are not completed, but he can identify the second verse of the song, which is the only part in the demo that Shinwon can somewhat pick up on, which reads Earth’s a set and life’s a movie scene. Hwitaek always has a way with words, incorporating poetic metaphors into his songs. He bites his lower lip and smiles at the older man, “It’s good. I like it. Keep writing.”

“Was already planning to,” Hwitaek sticks out his tongue at Shinwon, snatching the notebook back. He fishes out a pen from his backpack, his brows furrowed in concentration. Shinwon picks up his guitar, “I’ll figure out, like, riffs and shit.”

The smile that Hwitaek gives him is a heartfelt one, and they start to work in silence. Most songs of the band are co-written by Hwitaek and Shinwon now, and they have settled into some sort of routine that works well for the both of them. Hwitaek has always been a bit of a genius when it came to music, so he had been writing for the band ever since it started, and Shinwon had picked up songwriting partly as a hobby and partly to help Hwitaek out a couple years ago. In the very early days of the band, it used to be Hyojong who worked with Hwitaek on songs, but now that Hyojong has left and only keeps in touch every three months or so, it’s mostly Hwitaek and Shinwon now. Hyunggu has his own collection of self-made songs that are included in EPs every so often, and more on his Soundcloud, while Hongseok mostly sticks to working out at the gym when he doesn’t need to work or play the bass. 

When they write songs, they usually end up losing track of time. It is past dinner time when they are mildly satisfied with their progress. Hwitaek wrote half of the lyrics, changed quite a lot of the initial melody to fit the words better, and somehow still managed to come up with a sick bass line for the song, while Shinwon was mostly done with the guitar and the synth parts. Hwitaek takes one look at the watch on his wrist, “Do you want to get pizza or something?”

Then, because they are both starving, they go get pizza at the pizzeria six blocks down the street. They have familiarized themselves with the nice married couple who runs the business, and often find free fries and onion rings that they didn’t order alongside their pizza. Shinwon crams half a slice of pizza into his mouth and makes a satisfied hum at the taste of the cheesy goodness. Hwitaek, his chin resting on his palm, asks, “Do you think that Hongseok and Hyunggu will like the song?”

Shinwon laughs through his mouthful of pizza, “Of course they will. It’s amazing.”

Hwitaek sighs and there is a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. His lips form a small, doubtful pout, “You think?”

“I’m sure,” Shinwon assures him, and allows himself to reach over and pat the back of Hwitaek’s hand because he knows how touch calms the older down, “Trust me when I say that it’s good.”

They exchange a smile, and fall into silence again. That night, after pizza, when Shinwon walks Hwitaek home like he always does, Hwitaek reaches over to squeeze his hand to say goodnight, a friendly gesture. Shinwon, again, pretends that he is not affected by it at all.

They show Hongseok and Hyunggu the song, and, just like how Shinwon has expected, the two are more than on board with it, with Hongseok almost falling over his feet to try out the bass line. 

“What’s the song called?” Hyunggu asks as he peeks over Hongseok’s shoulder, his chin resting there. He pouts when he can’t see properly and Hongseok ends up snatching the lyrics from Hwitaek despite his protests and lifting it higher for Hyunggu. 

When Hyunggu is done with reading over it and an impressed smile pulls at his lips, Hwitaek snatches the notebook back and shrugs. He sits next to Shinwon, who is fumbling with the guitar, and admits, “I dunno.” 

Shinwon squints at the notebook again. Hwitaek has written most of the lyrics now, and it’s a lot more complete than yesterday. There’s a recurring phrase in the chorus, Angel Youth, which he doesn’t quite understand but applauds Hwitaek for its eloquence, so he suggests, “Why don’t you just call it Angel Youth? That would fit, right?”

Hwitaek gasps, eyes widening comically. He beams up at Shinwon brightly, “That’s it! I was kind of, like, on the fence about it because it sounded pretentious in my head but now that you’ve suggested it, it makes a lot of sense.”

Smiling down at the older, Shinwon shrugs nonchalantly, “Sometimes you just need a different point of view, you know?”

“M-hm,” Hwitaek nods enthusiastically, and he leans up to plant a wet kiss on Shinwon’s cheek, “Thanks, Shinwonie. You’re a genius.”

Over Hongseok’s shoulder, Hyunggu gives Shinwon a knowing look which he dodges. Here’s the thing: Hwitaek is affectionate, and Shinwon isn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing. It’s kind of an open secret by now, that Shinwon has liked Hwitaek for a long time, and everyone in the band but Hwitaek knows (heck, he’s pretty sure Hyojong knows. And the whole conscious infatuation thing started after he left, but Hyojong’s kind of a psychic and he knows everything). Hwitaek, blissfully unaware of the feelings Shinwon harbors towards him, at the same time being the sweetest person Shinwon has ever met, is friendly and affectionate like that with everyone and over the years, Shinwon has accepted that the occasionally cheek kisses from the older doesn’t mean anything. But it still doesn’t mean that Shinwon is not affected by it, and now his heart pounds loudly in his chest and he panics a little.

But, because he is used to it, he calms down pretty quickly. He wipes at the spot where Hwitaek’s lips had been with feigned disgust, scowling down at Hwitaek jokingly, “Get away from me.”

Hwitaek only smiles up at him sweetly, because he, too, is used to it by now. He leans his head on Shinwon’s shoulder for a second before bouncing up the chair, “Should we start practice?”

The band soon finds out that Angel Youth is actually a really good fucking song, to quote their manager. They had presented the song to the label, who were even more on board with the song than Hongseok and Hyunggu were when they first listened to it, which is surprising as their label hasn’t really cared about them since an album they have released too long ago with a song that did well, and Hongseok and Hyunggu could be really dramatic if they wanted to be. After a successful meeting with the label, who promised to release their song as a single, Shinwon elbows Hwitaek on the way out of the meeting room, “See? I told you the song’s good.”

Hwitaek smiles up at him and elbows him back, “I know. We wrote it together.”

They hold eye contact for a second too long, and Shinwon’s heart almost jumps out of his chest. The moment, however, is interrupted when Hongseok pushes himself between the two of them, “Should we get pizza to celebrate?”

Snapping out of his trance, Hwitaek smiles again, and tugs Hongseok with him as he walks, “My treat.”

It takes longer for Shinwon but when he snaps out of it, too, he is walking side by side with Hyunggu, who gives him a look, “You two looked like you were gonna make out right in the corridor of our label just now.”

Shinwon rolls his eyes, suddenly feeling defensive, “We weren’t.”

Hyunggu eyes him suspiciously, before nodding to himself, “I mean, you always look like you want to kiss Hui, so maybe I was mistaken. Sorry about that.”

“I do not!” Shinwon hisses, jamming his elbow right into Hyunggu’s rib cage, “And keep your voice down, Jesus. You don’t want him to hear anything. It’s gonna make things weird.”

“It’s not if it’s not true,” the younger boy singsongs, wagging his eyebrows, “But, hey, Hui looked like he was going to kiss you, too, just now. Maybe you have a chance.”

Shinwon ignores how his heart beats quicker at that and gets mad at himself for letting what Hyunggu said to him as a joke get to him. He elbows the boy in the ribs again, “Just shut up, would you?”

The puppy eyes that Hyunggu sends his way makes Shinwon curse under his breath. The pout the boy is now sporting isn’t much help, too. Despite being the member who joined the band the latest, Hyunggu had weaved himself seamlessly into the tight-knit friendship they have, and even if he is a few years younger than Shinwon, who used to be the youngest, they all work well together. And also because he is so young, the rest of the band tend to baby him, letting him get away with most things. Shinwon sometimes finds it hard to stay mad at the boy, and the way Hyunggu’s lips are downturned really isn’t helping at all. He sighs, admitting defeat to Kang Hyunggu once again, “Sorry. You know I get defensive about these things.”

As if there is a switch, Hyunggu’s face lights up in an instance and his pout morphs into a wicked grin (damnit, you fell for it again, Shinwon thinks to himself). He tugs Shinwon along to catch up with Hwitaek and Hongseok, who are immersed in a conversation about good protein supplements or whatever (Hwitaek has been talking for ages about wanting to work out, and Hongseok is probably the only guy who exercises regularly within their entire friend group). Before they approach the two, though, Hyunggu whispers at Shinwon, “I wasn’t joking just now, you know.”

Shinwon nods dismissively at that, picks up his pace so that he’s walking by Hwitaek’s side. The man notices his presence and turns away from Hongseok to smile at him for a brief moment before he turns back, but as he listens to Hongseok babble on about this protein bar which tastes exactly like the brownies my grandma makes, and my grandma makes the best brownies, he slides an arm through Shinwon’s, fingers brushing his wrist. Hyunggu, who has also caught up, shoots Shinwon another knowing look which goes ignored.

When Shinwon walks Hwitaek home again that night, right in front of the door, Hwitaek goes in for a hug. Hwitaek fits right into Shinwon’s arms, and he secretly thinks about what it would be like if he just never lets go.

-

Angel Youth turns out to be a hit. It gets played on radio stations that they have never dared to dream about getting on, the MV for it has more views than their previously most successful song, Shinwon’s instagram followers doubled overnight. He’s pretty sure that Hyunggu had gone viral on Twitter, too, as indie boy of the month or something. Hyojong breaks his routine of quarterly long texts to the group chat they still have and personalised ones to the three of them to congratulate them through text, which says a lot. Their label is understandably happy and helps them out in preparation for their album with enthusiasm that they have never seen.

The album does well, too. Records are actually getting sold, and it has more streams than all four of their EPs combined. When the royalties start rolling in, Hyunggu graduates college. They attend his graduation ceremony, and get mobbed by some people there. Hongseok officially quits his job at the café he has been working in since college the month after their album came out.

Their label signs them up on a tour across America, and holy shit, they are headlining a tour for the first time. They get an opening act, a tour bus, and a driver, unlike the tours they used to go on, opening for bands way bigger than they were and performing to crowds who don't really care about them (who cares about the opening band, anyway?), all while crammed into a shitty tour van which Hwitaek had to drive most of the time. Their label books them actual venues instead of shitty clubs that they used to perform in if they were to hold a gig on their own. It’s exciting and Shinwon hasn’t felt that good about his musical career in a long time. 

Shinwon, before they started driving off to their first venue, had thought that the tour would be the best time in his life. But, a week into the tour and four shows later, he is just downright miserable. He blames his misery on the opening band. Maybe he shouldn’t, because they are all super nice people, but Hwitaek has been so close with the band’s vocalist, Jinho, to the point where Shinwon tastes bitter in his mouth every time he sees the both of them.

Hongseok and Hyunggu take pity on him and give him sympathetic smiles whenever they see Hwitaek and Jinho hang out after a show, or when the older man babbles on about Jinho, who is the most amazing dude ever, he is such a good singer, in the words of Hwitaek. But at the end of the day, none of them can blame Hwitaek, and Shinwon knows that he should probably be glad that the man is finally making friends outside the band and Hyojong, who are the only people he talks to regularly. 

Even then, Shinwon sulks more than he wants to. Instead of enjoying his time in a city that he is unfamiliar with, he finds himself cooped up in his bunk after their Philadelphia show, listening to sad Fall Out Boy songs while staring blankly at the ceiling. Hongseok and Hyunggu tried to drag him out with them but had given up after too many failed attempts. Hwitaek is god-knows-where, probably with Jinho. 

Someone pushes his head into Shinwon’s bunk. It’s Hwitaek, who gives him a toothy smile, “What are you doing?” 

And, because Shinwon is way too in love for his own good, he smiles back. He is on the bottom bunk, so Hwitaek squeezes himself next to him, peering curiously at his phone, “What are you looking at? Everyone’s out for food.”

“And you’re not?”

“Well, I didn’t want to go without you,” says Hwitaek, and his eyes drop to the headphones Shinwon is wearing. He pulls one earbud off and puts it in his ear instead, humming in recognition when he hears Hum Hallelujah. Shinwon, again, has a hard time feigning coolness.

Hwitaek doesn’t take the earbud off, “What are you doing here listening to Fall Out Boy? You should be, like, out for Philly Cheesesteak. Jinho said that it’s really good.”

God, not Jo Jinho again. 

Shinwon snorts, “Then go with Jinho.” It is after he says so that he realizes how childish he sounds, but Hwitaek only laughs at that, amused.

“Nah,” he says, “I don’t mind listening to Fall Out Boy with you.”

He had the entire discography of Fall Out Boy played on shuffle, and Sugar, We’re Goin Down plays next. With Hwitaek lying right next to him, Shinwon finds it hard to pay attention. When he takes a discreet look at the other, though, it doesn’t seem like he feels the same, but at least, they’re spending time together. Shinwon closes his eyes and pretends to nap, pointedly ignoring how Hwitaek is basically breathing into his neck with how small the bunk is.

“We’re going down, down in another round

And sugar, we’re going down swinging…” 

It is in Boston where Hongseok and Hyunggu start teasing Hwitaek about Jinho. The two of them have become impossibly closer, and there are times when the man would spend a night on Jinho’s bus instead of their own. Shinwon has grown to accept that, whoever Hwitaek is romantically involved with, it wouldn’t be him, but he still sulks a little in private. Plus, Jinho is actually really nice to everyone, and his vocals are just top-tier. Shinwon understands why Hwitaek would like him.

Hwitaek comes back to the bus a minute before bus call. Hongseok smirks at him as soon as he boards the bus, and the other frowns at him, “What?”

Hongseok only exchanges a look with Hyunggu, who smiles mischievously. Hwitaek, understandably confused, repeats, “What?”

“I didn’t think you would be coming back,” Hyunggu is the one to speak up, his tone teasing and playful.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Aren’t you… too busy hanging out with Jinho?”

Flustered, Hwitaek laughs, plopping down next to Shinwon, “It’s bus call, obviously I’d have to come back.”

“That didn’t stop you from staying over at your boyfriend’s,” Hongseok pipes up, eliciting excited giggles from Hyunggu. They bump fists. Shinwon doesn’t know if he should say something, too.

Hwitaek goes red, “Jinho is not my boyfriend.”

“Yet?” 

“I don’t even like Jinho that way, what do you mean?” Hwitaek rolls his eyes, “It’s just nice to hang out with someone who’s older than me for once. And also someone who doesn’t make fun of me.”

Hyunggu gasps, jokingly offended, “We don’t make fun of you, Hui. Plus, the way you and Jinho are attached to the hip says otherwise.”

“Also, I still don’t believe that Jinho’s older than you. He doesn’t look a day over eighteen, and he is even smaller than you are,” Hongseok says, “It’s okay to admit that you like him.”

Hwitaek huffs, indignant, “Yeah, but he is more mature than you ever will be. Jinho is just a friend, I swear to God.”

“That’s what people say before they end up dating.”

“Am I not allowed to have friends now?” Hwitaek retorts, before he turns to Shinwon, who has been silent throughout the whole conversation. He shakes his arm gently, his voice bordering a whine, “Shinwonie, am I not allowed to have friends?”

Shinwon blinks down at Hwitaek, whose eyebrows are knit together in a frustrated frown. He shakes his head dumbly, “Of course you are.”

“See?” Hwitaek thrusts his hands up into the air indignantly, “I swear Shinwon is the only one who’s nice to me here.”

“Shinwon doesn’t count, he agrees with everything you say,” Hyunggu argues, and is prepared to say more, but Shinwon shoots him a warning look, signalling for him to shut up. It works and the boy sighs in defeat, pursing his lips. Hongseok hums, unsure what to say next. 

Hwitaek rolls his eyes, standing up from the bench he is half-lying on, muttering, “I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.”

He leaves the three of them staring dumbly at each other in silence. After a long moment, Hongseok whispers, “Do you think he’s mad?”

Hyunggu shakes his head, “He’ll get over it. We’re just joking around, and he knows that.”

“Yeah, but he looked upset just now,” Hongseok says, “What if we actually pissed him off?”

Shinwon sighs, and stands up, “I’ll go talk to him.”

He goes look for Hwitaek in his bunk. The curtains are closed, and Shinwon opens a corner of it, “Are you okay?”

Hwitaek is facing the wall, but he turns around to look at Shinwon. He nods, shuffling so that his duvet covers him better. 

“You’re not… mad or anything, right?”

“I’m not,” Hwitaek assures him, “I know they’re joking. Just tired.”

Shinwon purses his lips, reaching out to pat his duvet-covered shoulder, “Go to sleep, then.”

“M-hm,” Hwitaek hums tiredly, closing his eyes. Shinwon is about to leave when Hwitaek opens his eyes, like he just remembered something, “Shinwon.”

“Yeah?”

“You do know that Jinho is not my boyfriend, right?” Hwitaek says softly, words slurred and slow.

“I know,” Shinwon nods, patting his shoulder again, “You would tell me if he was.”

“Yeah,” Hwitaek nods too, satisfied, “And he isn’t.”

Shinwon can’t help but smile at the man, and he repeats, “I know. Go to sleep, Hui.”

-

The tour goes on. Hwitaek and Jinho are still close, but Shinwon doesn’t feel as bitter about it anymore. They visit cities that they are strangers to and play in front of crowds who actually care, in venues that are decently-sized and have dressing rooms that they don’t need to squeeze into. 

They have a show at a House of Blues in Dallas, and it’s the best show they have ever played, if you ask Shinwon. The crowd loves them and they sing along to every song, even ones that didn’t do as well, so the band gets hyped up all throughout their set. The free drinks that the House of Blues offers only adds to the experience — they must have a secret recipe for their punch because Shinwon has never had something as good. 

Angel Youth is the last song on their setlist before encore, and everyone sings along. Hwitaek looks particularly touched at that point. Maybe it’s the alcohol. His eyes are glazed over and he looks like he is going to cry at any moment, as the audience screams the lyrics of the chorus loudly. Shinwon, during a lull in the song, mouths at him, “Don’t cry.”

Hwitaek rolls his eyes at him, a smile making way to his face, and mouths back, “Not gonna.” He turns back to the audience just before the outro, his mouth pressed close to the microphone.

“It’s too late to not pretend

And I’d for all of this to end

Just glad that I could be your friend…”

They head backstage after the last note of Angel Youth, getting ready for encore. Shinwon empties his third(?) cup of punch and it makes him feel like he is floating (must be the tequila). Hwitaek comes up to him, “Don’t get too drunk.”

“I won’t,” Shinwon tells him. Two minutes until they go on stage, now. A guitar tech hands him his guitar as Hwitaek fixes his own earpiece. Somewhere near them, Hongseok asks another guitar tech to turn up the distortion of the bass amps. 

They rush back out to the stage for encore. Shinwon gets through another half a solo cup of punch after the first song, then Hwitaek plucks it out of his hands and finishes it for him with a cheeky smile. Normally, Shinwon would have been mad, but this time it only makes his heart beat quicker. Hongseok says a joke that makes everyone laugh, someone yells Hyunggu’s name. Hwitaek goes back to the mic, and announces that The Golden Age of Not Even Trying is next. Everyone screams even louder. 

The Golden Age of Not Even Trying is an old song by them, their very first single on their first EP. They play it at every show because first singles always hold some sort of sentimental value to the singer, and it hypes up the crowd every time. 

The song goes by like it normally would, only that right before the bridge, during Shinwon’s guitar solo, Hwitaek comes up to Shinwon and tugs their mouths together. And, because Shinwon is completely and utterly in love, he kisses Hwitaek back. The crowd screams impossibly loud, but it couldn’t possibly be louder than the ringing in Shinwon’s ears. Hwitaek tastes like the punch that they just shared. It takes every fibre of his being to not chase after the man who pulls away, unfazed as he carries on singing the bridge.

Here’s the thing: that’s something that they do, and Shinwon can barely be surprised anymore. It started off at a gig a few years ago, their first show after Hyojong left and Hyunggu wasn’t in the picture yet at that point, in a club which served the most amazing mimosas, and the two of them had been drunk. It was during the same exact part of The Golden Age of Not Even Trying, and the crowd had gone crazy. Shinwon is very much aware that it is just for show and it doesn’t mean anything, especially not when way too much alcohol is in their system. But some part of him likes to think that Hwitaek feels at least something for him, because, hey, Hongseok is on stage and available to be kissed too, it’s got to mean something that it’s him who Hwitaek chooses.

(But, really, he shouldn’t think too much of it.)

The song ends, and they are onto their very last song of the show. Shinwon gets through another cup of punch before they say their goodbyes because their little ritual during the song always leaves him dazed, and so, naturally, when they finally leave the stage, Shinwon is stumbling and has to hold onto Hwitaek so he doesn’t fall over. Hwitaek leans up and whispers into his ear disapprovingly, “I told you not to get too drunk.”

“I didn’t,” Shinwon insists, but almost trips over his feet again. Hwitaek shoots him an unimpressed look and drags him to a bathroom, telling him to wash his face.

Obediently, Shinwon bends to the sink and splashes water over his face. It doesn’t make him any more sober, but it does make him feel less hazy. He also notices how Hwitaek’s lips look extra glossy under the cheap fluorescent lights, and he wonders if he could get away with it if he kissed him, or he will get pushed away immediately. He figures it wouldn’t hurt to try. And, just like how they were on stage, Shinwon leans down and tugs their mouths together, sloppy and warm.

Hwitaek freezes against him, clearly caught off guard, but eventually he kisses back. It lasts longer than it did on stage, and soon escalates into something that is more than just kissing, with them licking into each other’s mouths and Hwitaek pinned against the wall of the bathroom. The older pulls back, gasping for breath, grinning up at him, “What was that?”

Shinwon shrugs, “Felt like it.”

“Oh,” Hwitaek laughs, breathless, but he gets cut off by Shinwon who presses their mouths together again, more desperate than he had been before. Hwitaek kisses back with the same kind of desperation, and for a second, Shinwon is almost convinced that maybe Hwitaek does feel the same way. 

But, at least, Shinwon has the decency to hesitate when his lips move to the crook of Hwitaek’s neck, but the man only tilts his head back in response, a silent encouragement for Shinwon to carry on. He bites at the skin somewhere above Hwitaek’s collarbones, exposed by his probably expensive T-shirt, pulling it between his teeth. Hwitaek only hisses just a bit as Shinwon sucks a bruise into his skin, his lips brushing the younger’s cheekbone.

When Shinwon, still hazy from the alcohol, begins moving his hand downwards from the back of his neck, however, Hwitaek eases off him, stepping away from his touch. Shinwon’s heart goes cold, and he supposes that his face falls too.

Reaching out a hand to grab Shinwon’s, tangling their fingers together, an action out of pity, most probably, Hwitaek says softly, “You’re drunk.” 

Shinwon takes a long look at the man in front of him. Hwitaek’s lips are kiss-swollen, slick with spit, and his chest heaves as he takes breaths, in and out. He shakes his head, insistent, “Not drunk enough.”

Hwitaek laughs, “Trust me, you are. You’re gonna regret it tomorrow.”

“I’m not,” Shinwon exclaims, a little too loudly. Maybe he is drunk. He calms down, “I’m not gonna regret it.”

The older man holds his gaze for a moment too long, before he sighs, letting go of Shinwon’s hand, “Wash your face again, Shinwon.”

Defeated, Shinwon bends down to the sink and splashes cold water all over his face again. It is ice cold against his skin, and a part of him crumbles into shreds, falling to the pit of his stomach like a dead weight. Hwitaek fixes the collar of his shirt so it hides the bruise above his collarbone before he steps out, offering Shinwon another smile. This time, though, Shinwon finds it hard to smile back.

Strangely enough, it doesn’t make things weird between them. They collectively agreed not to speak of it at all without even needing to say so, and Hwitaek acts the same around him as he had before. Hongseok and Hyunggu probably know that something has happened, but they keep quiet about it. They have a little less than ten shows to play in two weeks, so the last thing they would want is for them to be awkward with each other. 

Shinwon is very much aware that a clip of them kissing at the gig had gone viral on Twitter, and their band gains even more attention. He is also aware of the excited conspiracy theories their growing fanbase had come up with that Hui and Shinwon are in love with each other. He bitterly thinks to himself that they are not entirely wrong, only that it is one-sided instead of a mutual thing.

There are times, though, when Shinwon and Hwitaek are alone, and the older man would look like he has something to say, only he bites his lip before he can and acts nonchalant. One part of Shinwon wants to kiss him when he does that, but another part of him is just mad over the fact that he doesn’t mean anything more than a friend to Hwitaek, so he acts nonchalant too and changes the topic to something else more lighthearted, though it’s clear that neither of them are particularly interested in talking about funny videos Shinwon had found on Twitter. 

Their tour ends in Anaheim, and they, coincidentally, perform in yet another House of Blues. The Anaheim House of Blues offers them punch, too, but it just doesn’t taste the same to Shinwon anymore. The setlist remains the same, but Hwitaek almost cries before Angel Youth, as he monologues about how the tour had been amazing and he doesn’t want it to end. Everyone coos at the sentiment, and Shinwon offers the man the remainder of his cup of punch that he can barely finish throughout the show, partly as a joke. It elicits laughter from the crowd, and Hwitaek takes it, a little surprised, emptying it in one gulp. He announces it's time for Angel Youth. The crowd screams.

When they head back to get ready for encore, Hwitaek looks seconds away from bursting into tears. Shinwon comes up to him and elbows him, “Are you crying?”

Hwitaek looks up at him. His lips are parted, the corner of his mouth wet from the punch from just now, and Shinwon kind of wants to kiss him right then. The man shakes his head, wiping at his eyes profusely, “No.”

“It’s okay to cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Hwitaek insists, “It’s just the alcohol.”

Shinwon squints down at him dubiously, but he is aware that the other isn’t going to admit that he is close to crying, at least not during a show, so he nods eventually, “Don’t drink too much, then.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

A guitar tech tells them they have a minute left, and someone hands Shinwon his guitar. Hwitaek grabs his microphone and spins it around in his hand once before they get ready to go on stage. 

The image of Hwitaek is still fresh in Shinwon’s mind during the first song of encore, and he begins to think about how it would be like if he came up to Hwitaek right before the bridge of The Golden Age of Not Even Trying, during his guitar solo, and tugged their mouths together. He can say it’s all for show after, anyway, just like how Hwitaek does all the time. He mulls over it throughout the first song, and when Hongseok cracks another one of his stupid jokes after it. It is in the second verse of The Golden Age of Not Even Trying when he makes up his mind, and he can’t help but smile to himself as Hwitaek breaks into the chorus of the song.

Hwitaek and Shinwon are at the edge of the stage, right in front of the barricade, when the second chorus starts. In the middle of his guitar solo, Shinwon leans over to press their mouths together. The crowd screams, loud and excited. Hwitaek, taken aback, steps backwards from the impact but he kisses back anyway as he walks backwards and away from the barricade. Shinwon pulls away and watches as Hwitaek carries on singing the bridge, seeming completely unaffected. 

Their last show ends. As they walk backstage after countless goodbyes, Hongseok gives Shinwon a weird look which goes ignored. Instead, Shinwon picks up his pace so that he is next to Hwitaek, and says something about how the crowd was amazing. 

The older man nods half-heartedly as he fumbles with his earpiece. Shinwon takes the hint to stay silent, and the two of them don’t talk even when they enter their dressing room. As Hyunggu babbles on about how the tour had been great, Hwitaek excuses himself to the bathroom and doesn’t come back for a while, so Shinwon excuses himself too, mumbling something about looking for the older. Hongseok and Hyunggu barely hear him, too excited talking among themselves.

Leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, Shinwon waits until the door is unlocked and Hwitaek is pushing the door open, an eyebrow raised in surprise when he sees the taller man, “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” Shinwon says, “You were gone for a while.”

“Oh. Let’s go, then.”

Hwitaek turns to leave, but he stops again when Shinwon still remains in his spot, refusing to move. Instead of his usual T-shirts, Hwitaek is wearing this silk shirt today, buttoned only up to the chest. The shiny fabric glistens under the lights of the corridor, and it looks so smooth that Shinwon can’t help but reach out to touch it, his palm pressed into the small of Hwitaek’s back, pulling him in closer. Hwitaek laughs nervously, his eyes flickering between Shinwon and his surroundings, “What are you doing?”

Shinwon shrugs nonchalantly, removing his hand from Hwitaek’s back and instead takes the older’s hand in his, dragging him back into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. And, as if Shinwon hasn’t made enough impulsive decisions today, he keeps Hwitaek pressed against the wall, cupping the man’s cheeks to press their mouths together.

Like he has expected it, Hwitaek kisses back almost immediately, head tilting backwards so their lips slot together better. Shinwon savors the breathy hum from the man as he nips at Hwitaek’s bottom lip, swallowing down every single pretty sound he makes. He moves his hand from Hwitaek’s face to the back of the man’s neck. His free hand is still interlocked with the other’s as he traces his lips along Hwitaek’s jaw, just light enough for the man to shiver from the touch. Shinwon feels lightheaded even if he hasn't had much to drink when he moves further down to suck a mark into the skin above Hwitaek’s collarbone, and the sounds that the older makes only urges him to go further. He ends up leaving another bruise in the shape of his mouth, right in the crook of Hwitaek’s neck, barely covered by his silk shirt. Purple looks good on Hwitaek, he decides. 

Perhaps he should have expected it when Hwitaek eventually pushes him off gently, but a lot less drunk than he had been the last time, all excitement sizzles into emptiness in the hollow of his chest, numb and dull. Shinwon stares down at the man in front of him in silence, still out of breath, “What’s wrong?”

(He does know what’s wrong — Hwitaek has never seen him as anything more than a friend. Whatever they were doing was not what platonic friends do.)

Hwitaek shakes his head, dodging Shinwon’s gaze, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be,” Shinwon tells him, “I understand.”

Shinwon realizes that, even if Hwitaek had pushed him away, their hands are still intertwined. He lets go of the other’s hand immediately, forcing a smile. Hwitaek opens his mouth, “Shinwon—”

“It’s okay,” the younger cuts him off, feigning another smile, “I understand.” 

Without waiting up for the older, Shinwon pushes the bathroom door open and steps out on his own. When he gets back to the dressing room, he realizes that Hongseok and Hyunggu have left already. A guitar tech is nice enough to tell him that the two had gone with some guys from the opening band to celebrate the end of tour at the House of Blues bar. Shinwon nods at that and decides that he isn’t really in the mood, so he leaves for the hotel at last. As he walks down the streets of Anaheim, he thinks to himself bitterly that this is not how he had expected his last day of tour to be like. They are due to board a flight back to the East Coast the next day, so the label had booked them hotel rooms. He wonders how he is supposed to face Hwitaek that night, the two of them alone in their shared room.

Shinwon spends the rest of the night tossing and turning on his bed, scrolling on his phone. A clip of him and Hwitaek kissing is going around on Twitter again, and looking at it makes his heart hurt a lot more than it should, so he turns his phone off and tries to go to sleep. Hwitaek doesn’t come back after a few hours, clearly disheveled, and he locks himself into the bathroom as soon as he enters the room, not sparing Shinwon another glance. Jinho is the one to walk him back to the room, and Shinwon can’t help but be bitter about that. When he turns around to face the wall, however, Jinho calls his name softly and asks if he could have a word. He tells Shinwon that he had found Hwitaek shaking in the corridor, sunk to the floor, and when he had asked what was wrong, the man had said something about being sad about the last day of tour.

“I know that it probably isn’t what happened, but I just wanted to make sure that everything’s okay,” Jinho concludes, a worried glint in his eyes. Shinwon can’t help but feel kind of bad about it, because he has an inkling that it was his fault.

“I think so,” Shinwon lies instead, “I will talk to him later. Thanks for walking him back, Jinho.”

Jinho smiles at him reassuringly, “Of course. Hui’s my friend.”

Shinwon can only nod dumbly at that, waving goodbye to Jinho who goes back to his own room. He clicks the door shut and sits back onto his bed, waiting for Hwitaek to come outside. 

It is when Hwitaek comes out, eyes red and swollen, his silk shirt loosely hanging off him and exposing the bruises on his neck, that Shinwon realizes that Jinho probably has seen the marks too and figured things out himself, but is too nice to talk about it. Hwitaek pointedly ignores Shinwon as he digs around in his suitcase, fishing out a ratty T-shirt to change into. After he does, he climbs into bed, closing his eyes with a sigh.

Awkwardly, Shinwon shifts around to face Hwitaek’s direction, “Are you going to sleep?”

Hwitaek nods into his pillow, his eyes still shut. Shinwon begins to stand up, and offers, “I can turn the lights off, if you want.”

“It’s okay,” Hwitaek responds tiredly, “You can leave them on if you’re not sleeping yet. Doesn’t matter.”

Shinwon feels his mouth go dry. He shakes his head even if the other probably won’t see, “It’s okay. I was planning to go to sleep anyway.”

He stands up finally, and switches the lights off. Climbing back into bed, he fails to hold in a long sigh as he closes his eyes.

The next morning, though, Hwitaek acts so normal around him that Shinwon can’t help but wonder if last night was just a dream. When Shinwon snoozes his alarm for the fourth time, Hwitaek threatens to take away his blanket jokingly, which wakes him up enough. They go get breakfast together at a nearby Starbucks, leisurely chatting about how the show last night was great. If it wasn’t for the bruises that peek out from beneath Hwitaek’s T-shirt, a high-necked one from Urban Outfitters, Shinwon would really have been convinced that last night was just a dream.

They don’t talk about it even when they get back home. The band is meeting up less for practice, anyway, with all of them exhausted from touring across the country. Shinwon has eventually decided that maybe not talking about it ever again would be the best thing for him and Hwitaek, so he stops thinking about it as much. The tour becomes the past, and everything that happened then becomes faded memories. Shinwon decides that it is for the best.

-

They resume semi-regular band practices after a month or so. It had been spring when Angel Youth came out — another spring is approaching now but it has been so incredibly cold that Shinwon has forgotten how warm weather feels. Even hoodies do not keep him warm enough and he now wears thick coats over sweaters so that he doesn’t need to shiver all day long. It is cold even in the coffee shop near their studio, where he is standing with Hwitaek waiting for their hot drinks. He voices that to the older man, who only laughs at him.

“It’s gonna be warm real soon, I think,” the man remarks, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Hwitaek makes it his mission to stay fashionable all year long — he has gotten into fleece-lined quarter zips and has been wearing them all winter. He is wearing one from Patagonia, now, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans and layered with an oversized denim jacket. Shinwon doesn’t know how Hwitaek manages to put effort into his outfits every day all while doing a million things at once, and in the corner of a not-too-crowded coffee shop, he stands out not just because he is from a band that has recently gained attention in the indie scene, but also because of how good he looks. A barista calls their names and Hwitaek goes up to grab their drinks, thanking the barista cheerfully with an eye smile. He hands Shinwon his hot chocolate before taking a sip from his own, humming happily at the taste. 

They walk to their studio as fast as they can to escape the coldness, but the winds that are blowing hard in their direction makes it hard. When they finally arrive at the building, and push open the door to the studio, though, Shinwon kind of wishes that they have taken their time.

In the studio, right on the couch, Hyunggu is half on Hongseok’s lap, and their mouths are pressed together in a way that cannot be explained by any other reason. It is Hwitaek who finds them first, and Shinwon who follows, and they stare at each other, too stunned to even talk.

Maybe, in hindsight, Shinwon shouldn’t have been that surprised. Hongseok and Hyunggu have grown incredibly close throughout the tour, and there had been times when Shinwon had pretended not to see when the two of them were cuddled up on a tour bus bench watching a movie. He had convinced himself that it didn’t mean anything, plus he had been too preoccupied with thoughts in his own head that he had stopped noticing. But, right now, he is too shocked to say a word as Hyunggu flings himself off Hongseok’s lap, sitting down back onto the couch. 

Hwitaek blinks in disbelief even as he walks into the studio, shutting the door behind them. He looks between Hongseok and Hyunggu, “Is this… a regular thing?”

Neither of them speak up, until Hongseok nods hesitantly, “We have been together for a while now. We just didn’t know how you guys would react, so we have been putting off telling you. I’m sorry you have to find out this way.”

“So you do know that this isn’t a good idea?” Hwitaek says at last, and Shinwon finally snaps out of the initial shock, opening his mouth to say something, but Hyunggu does first before he can.

“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea? We just didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you to feel awkward about it.”

There are a million reasons why dating within a band is not the best idea, but Shinwon probably is the last person who can talk about that. He turns to Hwitaek, who sighs exasperatedly, “Please don’t tell me you don’t know.”

Hongseok looks like he wants to say something, his eyes flitting nervously between Hwitaek and his boyfriend. Hyunggu huffs defiantly, “I don’t. Enlighten me, then.”

“Because!” Hwitaek raises his voice, startling Shinwon and Hongseok, “Couples fight. It’s gonna make things awkward when you two argue eventually. I’m not saying that you two will break up, but if that happens, the band is going to be over. It’s your career now, Hyunggu, you should at least prioritize that.”

Hyunggu rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed as he mutters under his breath, “You’re the one to talk.”

“What do you mean?” Hwitaek snaps, hand gripped tightly around his cup of hot chocolate. Shinwon vaguely knows what Hyunggu is about to say, and he exchanges a look with a panicked Hongseok, uncertain as to whether he should step in or not.

“Oh, please,” Hyunggu sneers, “You know what I mean. At least me and Hongseok don’t make out on stage in front of a whole crowd. You’re the one to talk, Hui.”

Hwitaek pauses, and turns to look at Shinwon. Guilt flashes in his eyes, and he looks back at Hyunggu. “That was just for show! It doesn’t mean anything,” he argues, “It’s not like me and Shinwon are dating.”

Even if Shinwon has expected that response, it still stings to hear from Hwitaek himself that the kisses on stage have never meant anything at all. He winces to himself as Hyunggu scoffs, indignant, “What about when you two fucked in the bathrooms after a show? Just because we had the decency not to bring it up, it doesn’t mean that we didn’t know.”

“We didn’t—” Hwitaek bristles at the younger, but he cuts himself off with a defeated sigh, “Whatever. Do what you want. I don’t care.”

They could probably have left it at that, and maybe Hyunggu and Hwitaek would be stiff around each other for a bit before one of them eventually apologizes. But Hyunggu is stubborn especially in an argument, and so is Hwitaek, so neither of them back down. 

Hongseok tries to smile disarmingly, weaving himself into the conversation weakly, “Hyunggu, I’m sure Hui didn’t mean what he said. Let’s just—”

“No,” Hyunggu interrupts, “Why do you care, anyway? I like Hongseok. Hongseok likes me. We’re happy. Why does that matter to you, Hui? Or are you just jealous?”

Hwitaek scoffs incredulously, “Jealous? Why would I be jealous? I told you, I don’t care. Do what you want.”

“I don’t know, because we actually like each other for once? Because I— we’re happy? Do I have to remind you of Hyojong?” Hyunggu taunts, and he is saying things he doesn't mean now. Hongseok widens his eyes at the mention of Hyojong, shocked and panicked, and Shinwon’s head snaps up even though he had been sulking, exchanging another look with Hongseok before observing Hwitaek carefully.

The room goes silent, uncomfortably so. Hyunggu makes an impatient sound, waiting for the other’s response. Hwitaek’s face darkens, “Don’t you dare talk about Hyojong.”

Shinwon hasn’t seen Hwitaek this angry in a long time — no, he has never seen him as angry as he is now. He wonders if he should say something before they say more things that they don’t mean.

“Oh?” Hyunggu feigns shock, “Why not? Because you don’t like to talk about how you kicked Hyojong out of the band ‘cause he has a girlfriend and you were bitter about that? Are you going to—”

A thud cuts Hyunggu off, and Shinwon’s eyes drop to where Hwitaek’s cup of hot chocolate lies, a puddle brown and lifeless on the concrete flooring. Hongseok’s mouth is agape, both at Hyunggu’s outburst and at the puddle on the floor. Hyunggu’s mouth goes rounded too, and he blinks rapidly, before a guilty pout settles onto his lips. 

“I didn’t kick Hyojong out of the band. He left on his own terms, and it was for the best,” Hwitaek says, eerily calm, “You don’t know shit, Hyunggu. Don’t talk about things you don’t know about.”

Hwitaek turns on his heels, bursting out the door and slamming the door behind him. The other three are left behind in their studio, staring at each other dumbly. 

Leaning against the wall next to the door, Shinwon shifts uncomfortably, thinking if he should follow Hwitaek out to make sure that he calms down, but at the same time, he is afraid that Hyunggu and Hongseok would take it the wrong way and think that he doesn’t support them as well. Plus, it still kind of hurts when Hwitaek had made it clear that he is nothing but a friend to him, so he doesn’t follow him out right away. Instead, he quirks his mouth into a tight-lipped smile, and offers meekly, “You are cute together.”

Hongseok smiles back, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, his voice relieved, “Thanks, Shinwon.”

Shinwon sighs, “But, Hyunggu—”

The boy looks up in response, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. He reaches over to hold Hongseok’s hand.

“Me and Hui didn’t fuck. Not once. He pushed me away before we could. Both times,” Shinwon says, and he just feels so, so empty. He turns around and leaves the room too, clicking the door shut softly. 

When Shinwon leaves the building, though, he doesn’t bother looking for Hwitaek, like he usually would have. Instead, he walks back to his apartment, shivering from the cold even if he is bundled up in a thick coat, and sleeps throughout the entire day.

The next morning, he receives a text from Hongseok in the groupchat, asking if anyone is up for band practice. Hyunggu doesn’t respond and neither does Hwitaek, so Shinwon isn’t surprised when he is the only one to show up besides Hongseok. There isn’t much they can do when it’s only the two of them, but Hongseok looks so miserable as he fumbles around with his bass guitar that Shinwon has no choice but to sit with him in their studio in silence until the other calls it a night. The same thing happens the next day, and Hongseok looks sullen on the couch, this time ditching the bass guitar. On the third day Shinwon has had enough and calls for late night band practice in the group chat. Hyunggu leaves him on read, and Hwitaek doesn’t even open the text. Hongseok responds with forced enthusiasm, punctuated with too many exclamation marks. 

That night, before Shinwon goes to the studio, he gets Hongseok’s usual order at the pizza place and a pack of Budweiser. Hongseok rarely drinks because he has a regular workout routine, but he doesn’t argue when Shinwon hands him a bottle of beer, gripping onto the glass bottle as if it is his only lifeline.

“Hyunggu just feels bad about the whole thing now,” Hongseok says softly after he sets down his slice of pizza, hands slick with grease, “I don’t even know what to say to him.”

Nonchalantly, Shinwon helps himself to an onion ring, “You should ask your boyfriend to come to band practice.”

Hongseok’s eyes snap up at Shinwon, surprised, “You’re not mad at him?”

Shinwon shrugs, laughing, “I never was. How could I stay mad at Kang Hyunggu?”

The other laughs too, sounding a lot more relieved than he had been for the past few days, but the smile freezes into a worried frown, “What about Hui?”

“I dunno, I haven’t talked to him,” Shinwon says, “I guess he needs more time. You know how he gets when he’s mad. I’m sure he’ll come around, though. You and Hyunggu are cute together, and he really doesn’t care about whether you are dating. I guess he’s just shocked, that’s all.”

Hongseok sighs, wiping his hands on a paper towel, “Yeah, but what about the whole Hyojong thing?”

Shinwon has been reaching for his beer, but he hesitates at the question. Hongseok’s hopeful expression falters, and Shinwon shrugs again, forcing a smile, “I don’t know. He’s gonna get over it.”

But even then he sounds unsure, because they both know how much Hyojong had meant and still means to Hwitaek. When Hyojong left the band, Hwitaek spent a long time sulking on his own even if he knew that it was for the best, and it is only when Hyojong sends them a text from Colorado or something, in the middle of his road trip, assuring them that he is safe and happy that Hwitaek begins smiling a bit more. They have never mentioned anything about why Hyojong have left just as their band was starting to take off to Hyunggu, so maybe they shouldn’t blame him for assuming, especially when he is angry. Hongseok sighs again, “I’ll tell Hyunggu to come tomorrow.”

Hyunggu does show up the next day, a permanent pout on his lips. Shinwon had assured him that he is not mad at him at all, but that only makes the boy smile a little. They go get pizza after a more productive day of practice, and Hyunggu is slumped in the booth next to Hongseok as the other two try to cheer him up. 

They still don’t hear anything from Hwitaek, and Shinwon is beginning to worry. The longest Hwitaek had been MIA was for three days, and that was when Hyojong left the band and everyone was sulking in their own ways. Shinwon tries texting Hwitaek but his messages get left on read, and when he calls, the phone rings for God knows how long until the call gets cut off. On the sixth day since the argument — Shinwon doesn’t realize that he was keeping count — he gets fed up and pays a visit to Hwitaek’s apartment. The man doesn’t even answer the door. Shinwon has a spare key so he uses it for the first time and Hwitaek is nowhere to be found. The only thing that tells Shinwon that the other is alive is the messages he sends that gets left on read, and so he figures that Hwitaek probably really wants to be left alone.

“Have you heard anything from Hui?” Hyunggu asks as he leans his head on Hongseok’s arm, picking at the Mac-n-cheese that he can barely stomach. Shinwon had suggested a change in scenery after a week straight of pizza, and the others had gladly agreed. They are settled in a family-run diner a ten-minute walk away from their studio, slumped in a quiet booth in the corner. 

Shinwon shakes his head, “I figured that he wants to be left alone. I went over to his place last week and he’s not even at home.”

Hyunggu’s frown deepens, and he pouts as he shoves a spoonful of macaroni into his mouth, “I don’t want him to be mad at me anymore.”

“He’s not gonna stay mad for long,” Shinwon assures him, “It’s not like he didn’t say shit that pissed you off too. It’s not your fault.”

Lips morphing into a hopeful smile, Hyunggu looks up at Hongseok, “Are you sure?”

Hongseok shrugs and pulls the boy close to him. They are cute together, Shinwon notes to himself as he smiles at the sight. He reaches out and taps on the table, “I’m sure. He’ll come around.”

“He’s gonna have to make up for all the band practice that he missed, though,” Hyunggu says, snuggled into his boyfriend’s side. A grin pulls at his lips as he takes another bite of his food.

“You say it like we’ve been actually doing shit,” Hongseok snorts, “If anything, he’s gonna get on our case for not practicing enough.”

Shinwon laughs. His phone has been buzzing for a while now, but he has ignored it for the sake of the conversation. He fishes it out of his pocket, eyes widening at the texts he receives from Hyojong, asking him to please pick hui up hes sulking again and idk what to do with him. He laughs again, this time to himself. Of course Hwitaek is with Hyojong — where else would he be? He looks up from his phone, “I’m gonna pick Hui up.”

Hongseok widens his eyes, “He asked you to pick him up?”

“Hyojong did.”

“Of course he is with Hyojong,” Hongseok laughs too, “Is he even in town?”

Shrugging dismissively, Shinwon types a message to Hyojong, where? The other immediately texts back with an address three neighborhoods away, and Shinwon sighs to himself as he calls an Uber. The app tells him that it’s going to be an expensive ride, and he knocks his head against the table, exasperated, “He is, apparently. He also lives kind of far away.”

When the Uber arrives, ten minutes later, Shinwon waves a hurried goodbye to Hongseok and Hyunggu. The ride to Hyojong’s apartment is unbelievably long, and Shinwon just feels drained by the time he rings on the man’s doorbell, slumped against the wall.

Hyojong answers the door, relief written all over his features. He offers Shinwon a hug, which is gladly returned. Gesturing for the younger to come in, he points at Hwitaek who is on the couch, a blanket thrown over his shoulders. There is a duffle bag lying limply on the floor, and Shinwon whispers, incredulous, “Has he been staying with you?”

The older nods grimly, “He called last week and asked if he could stay over. He’s been sleeping on the couch for a week now, at least.”

Shinwon grimaces and walks into the living room, carefully sitting down next to Hwitaek. The man notices him and turns around, features immediately morphing into a frown. His voice comes out as a whine, “What are you doing here?”

It kind of stings to know that Hwitaek doesn’t even want him here, but he tries not to take it personally. He notices the man’s glassy eyes and realizes that he is probably drunk, so he only shrugs, “Hyojong asked me to come.”

Hwitaek turns to Hyojong, displeased, “You should’ve just said something if you wanted to kick me out.”

Amused, Hyojong chuckles, “I’m not trying to kick you out, Hui. I just figured that you wanted some company who’s not me.”

“You’re my best friend, I am fine with hanging out with just you,” Hwitaek argues, clutching his blanket tighter.

Hyojong only shakes his head fondly at him, bending down to fix the hair on his forehead gently, “Yeah, and you’re mine. But Shinwon is your best friend too, right?”

Hwitaek sniffs, “I guess so.” He turns to Shinwon, who is sitting there awkwardly the whole time, “Are you mad at me? I think you’re mad at me.”

Shinwon blinks down at him, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I dunno, I ignored your texts. And I was angry at Hyunggu and Hongseok,” Hwitaek shrugs as he shifts closer to the younger, “I figured you were angry, too.”

“Well, I’m not,” Shinwon tells him, “And Hongseok and Hyunggu won’t be when you apologize.”

Hwitaek acts like a child sometimes when he is drunk, and normally Shinwon would find it endearing if he hadn’t dropped everything to pick him up at Hyojong’s apartment, almost an hour away from where he was. The man pulls a face, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, they were worried for you, actually.”

“Why would they be?”

“I don’t know, you ignored everyone and went MIA for a week, anyone would have been worried,” Shinwond deadpans, not bothering to hold his tongue anymore.

The other’s face falls guiltily, “I’m sorry. Were you worried, too?”

Shinwon doesn’t say anything, watching as Hwitaek fumbles with his blanket. He sighs, “Of course I was. You should’ve at least texted so I knew you were safe, Hui.”

“I’m sorry,” Hwitaek repeats, his eyebrows knit together in a frown.

Reaching out to smooth the creases between the older’s eyebrows, Shinwon offers him a tight-lipped smile, “It’s okay. Do you want to go home, now?”

Hwitaek smiles back, shrugging, “I guess.”

“I’ll call you guys an Uber,” Hyojong says immediately just as Shinwon pulls Hwitaek to his feet. The oldest among the three picks up the duffel bag on the floor and begins stuffing his things, scattered on Hyojong’s couch, into it, and surprisingly, it doesn’t take long for him to finish packing despite being drunk. He gives Hyojong a tight hug before he leaves, and Shinwon gets into his second Uber of the night, this time with Hwitaek.

As they are speeding down a highway, Hwitaek reaches over and interlocks their hands. Shinwon turns to look at him, surprised, but the other acts so nonchalant that he ends up not saying anything at all. 

Hwitaek only speaks up, half asleep, when he is in his own apartment. Shinwon had come in with him, just to make sure that he doesn’t fall over or something, and Hwitaek speaks up as he tucks himself into bed, barely a whisper, “Hyunggu and Hongseok are cute together.”

Shinwon laughs. He turns to the man and pats his shoulder, “You should tell them that.”

Nodding dismissively, Hwitaek closes his eyes, his voice thick with sleep, “Shinwon?”

“Yeah?”

“You should stay over. It’s late.”

“Okay,” Shinwon agrees, “I’m just gonna camp out on your couch, is that okay?”

“I have a double bed,” Hwitaek responds sleepily as he scoots over closer to the wall, making space for Shinwon, “The couch’s too small for you anyway.”

Perhaps, Shinwon should start working on saying no to Hwitaek when he wants to, but it’s late and sleeping on the couch would make his back hurt anyway, so he just nods quietly, climbing into bed with Hwitaek, lulled to sleep by the older’s quiet breathing.

After that night, things get better. The next day, Hwitaek shows up at band practice and apologizes to Hongseok and Hyunggu. Hyunggu apologizes back, and they go back to their usual friendly bickering after a minute. Over the past week, Hwitaek has managed to write new songs, so they listen to them and record new demos. That night, they go get pizza, and Hwitaek cooes when Hongseok feeds Hyunggu an onion ring. Everything falls into place, and Shinwon wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

“When are you gonna tell Hui that you like him?” asks Hongseok one night, when he is hanging out at Shinwon’s apartment. Hyunggu is there, too, because the two of them operate as one unit now, and he perks up at his boyfriend’s question, a smirk settling onto his lips.

Shinwon chokes on his mouthful of popcorn, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

The unimpressed look that both of them sends his way is enough to make him cower away, tossing a popcorn kernel towards their direction. He rolls his eyes, “Did I let you two into my apartment so that I could third-wheel you, and so you can harass me?”

“You’ve been in love with Hui forever now, it’s about time he knows,” Hyunggu catches the kernel easily, tossing it into his mouth, “When are you gonna tell him?”

“How about never?” Shinwon mutters under his breath, shoving the popcorn bowl into Hongseok’s arms, “I’m fine with how things are now. Don’t want to fuck things up.”

Hongseok shakes his head disapprovingly but he settles the bowl onto his lap, his feet tucked into Hyunggu’s. He feeds his boyfriend a piece of popcorn before saying, “You two would look cute together, you know.”

Shinwon stares back at the man blankly, “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’ll get together.”

“You never know if you never try,” Hyunggu suggests, stretching his arms. His eyes dart towards the door, “Where’s Hui, by the way? You two are always hanging out. It’s hard to see you without him.”

“We’re not always hanging out,” Shinwon argues weakly, though it’s probably not the point, “He’s with Hyojong, I think. Said some shit about a road trip.”

“And you didn’t go with them?”

“Why would I?” Shinwon dismisses, fumbling with the remote control, “It’s their thing. Which movie did you want to watch again?”

They eventually decide on Marriage Story, mostly because Hyunggu has insisted with a pout and neither Hongseok nor Shinwon can say no to that. Shinwon has watched the movie way too much and stops paying attention after fifteen minutes, and Hongseok and Hyunggu seem to be more interested in cuddling on the couch than they are in the movie. At one point, when Scarlett Johansson argues with Adam Driver over something that none of them is paying enough attention to, Shinwon’s phone rings, startling everyone in the room.

Shinwon excuses himself into his bedroom before he looks at the caller ID. It’s Hwitaek. A smile makes way to his face despite himself as he picks up, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Where are you now?”

“Oh?” There is the sound of wind blowing on the other side of the line, “Philly. We went there on tour, remember?”

“Of course I do,” Shinwon tells him, “Are you and Hyojong enjoying yourselves?”

“Hell yeah. The food’s great, and Hyojong knows a bunch of nice restaurants that we didn’t go to last time. Did you know that he lived in Philly for a bit with Hyuna, like, last year?”

“No shit?” Shinwon shifts to sit on the edge of his bed, “I wouldn’t be surprised, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me he lived in, like, Australia for a bit. He knows everyone everywhere.”

“I know, right?” Hwitaek says, “That’s why he knows so many nice food places. Last time we went to Philly, we only stayed for, like, a night. And I don’t remember anything.”

“Neither do I. Have fun, yeah?”

Hwitaek hums into the phone, “Yeah. Kind of wish you were here, though. You’d love it here.”

Shinwon’s heart beats in his throat. He swallows, “We can go someday. With Hongseok and Hyunggu. Hyojong can show us around if he’s, like, in town.”

The other pauses, “I was thinking about just the two of us. Don’t tell me you wanna third-wheel the lovebirds on a fucking road trip.”

“They’re gonna get mad at you for saying that,” Shinwon teases, pretending not to hear the first remark, “They’re just outside.”

“Oh, you’re hanging out with them?”

“Yeah. Just movies and popcorn.”

“Am I interrupting anything?” Hwitaek asks, and there’s the click of a door from somewhere, “I can call later.”

“No, no,” Shinwon assures him hurriedly, “I’ve watched Marriage Story enough. It’s okay.”

“That’s true.”

“When are you coming back?” 

“Me?’ Hwitaek yawns into the phone, “We are driving back tomorrow night, I think. S’not gonna take long. Like, if you asked me to get you takeout or something here it will still be warm when I bring it back to you.”

“Is that the case? Maybe you should get me a Philly Cheesesteak, then. Didn’t get the chance to try it on tour,” Shinwon says half-heartedly, mostly as a joke, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. 

The way the other laughs into the phone makes Shinwon smile again, “Maybe. We should hang out when I come back, though. I miss you.”

“Oh,” Shinwon gulps, trying to ignore how his mouth goes dry, “You’ve been gone for like, two days, and you miss me already?”

Hwitaek whines into the phone, jokingly offended, “Hey. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. I miss you too, I guess.”

“M-hm,” Shinwon can picture the older’s nod even if he can’t see, “I’m gonna go to sleep now, I think. Hyojong dragged me around the city the whole day, and I’m exhausted. Go back to Marriage Story. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Clicking off the call, Shinwon walks back into the living room. Scarlett Johansson is still arguing with Adam Driver, but it’s probably about something else. Hyunggu is half asleep, head buried into Hongseok’s shoulder, but he wakes up as soon as Shinwon walks back in, “Who was that?”

Shinwon shrugs, sitting back down onto his armchair and gesturing at the TV, “Just Hui. Are you two still watching that?” 

“Just Hui?” Hongseok smirks at the remark, more excited than Shinwon is about a phone call that barely means anything. He turns to Hyunggu, who is sleepy against his arm and shrugs, “Guess not. We’ll go home, then. I’ll text tomorrow.”

Hyunggu waves sleepily as he stands up, barely suppressing a yawn. Shinwon watches as the two leave his apartment and goes back to his bedroom, feeling tired himself. He notices a text from Hwitaek that he hadn’t seen, goodnight >:), and smiles again. Hwitaek is probably asleep now, but he texts back anyway, completed with an emoticon on his own. 

(When he falls asleep that night, he dreams of Hwitaek. It feels so real that it hurts, and Shinwon finds himself desperately trying to recall every moment the next morning.)

They have been slacking off with band practice lately, and most days Shinwon just stays at home if he doesn’t have plans with anyone. He spends the whole day watching Netflix and gets through half a season of Umbrella Academy, which he has been meaning to watch. Shinwon is about to go to sleep when his doorbell rings. It’s late and no normal person would visit at that time, but he figures that no murderer would use doorbells when they can probably just break into his apartment, so he gets off the couch and answers the door anyway. 

Hwitaek is probably the last person Shinwon would expect to be standing in front of his door when it is almost midnight, but there he is anyway, grinning up at him brightly. He does a double take before he can say, “What are you doing here?”

Something wrapped in paper is pushed into Shinwon’s hand, lukewarm against his palms. He looks down to see the wrapping paper of Pat’s King of Steaks, too dumbfounded to speak.

“See? I told you it’d still be warm,” the other beams up at him. There is a laugh somewhere and Shinwon looks up to see Hyojong leaned against the wall outside his apartment, incredibly amused.

“You are ridiculous,” Shinwon manages to utter after a long moment, “I was just joking last night.”

“Yeah, and I got you food. Do you want it or not?” Hwitaek asks, and the other can only nod dumbly. The older man snatches the sandwich from him and pushes past him, muttering something about microwaves.

Shinwon stands in the doorway and asks Hyojong awkwardly, “Do you want to come in, too?”

Hyojong laughs, “Nah. I’m gonna head home. I can’t believe he made me drive him all the way to Pat’s and line up for like, half an hour, then drive all the way back here. I’m tired, man.”

“Oh,” Shinwon nods, “That’s understandable. Goodnight, then.”

Even if Hyojong smiles in lieu of a farewell, he makes no action to leave just yet. Shinwon gestures at his door hesitantly, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come in?”

“Oh, no, I’m leaving soon,” Hyojong says immediately, still leaned on the wall. He nods approvingly, like a father marrying off his son, “I always knew you two are going to end up together. You’re good for each other, I think.”

“What?” Shinwon frowns, flustered, “We’re not—”

“I know,” Hyojong smiles knowingly (God, why does he know everything?), “You will be. Trust me.”

Shinwon doesn’t manage to say goodbye and Hyojong is turning around, leaving his apartment building with a cheerful wave. Still confused, Shinwon closes the door and goes back into his living room, where Hwitaek is settled. The Philly Cheesesteak is on one of his Ikea plates, placed on his coffee table.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Shinwon says as he sits down next to Hwitaek, “I can’t believe you actually got me a sandwich from Philly.”

“It’s not just a sandwich, it’s a Philly Cheesesteak,” Hwitaek enthuses, “Now try it.” 

He hands Shinwon the plate carefully and watches as the other takes a bite, looking at him expectantly, “Well?”

Truthfully, the sandwich is as good as one that was bought a two-hour car ride ago can taste, slightly stale and a bit too soggy for Shinwon’s liking, but it is also possibly the best thing he has ever tasted. He has an inkling that it’s not just about the sandwich, and he shrugs, “It’s good.”

Hwitaek smiles at him, satisfied. He shifts closer to rip off a piece of bread, stuffing it into his mouth. Shinwon laughs and ends up splitting the sandwich into two with much difficulty, and Hwitaek’s grin goes even wider. 

-

Recently, Shinwon has been getting a lot more texts from Hyojong. It would have been nice, because it’s always good to hear from the man, and his anecdotes about this stray kitten he had found on the streets or a weird photoshoot he and his girlfriend was invited to never fail to make Shinwon laugh, but the quarterly texts have turned into daily ones about r u and hui dating yet or do i have to lock u 2 in a room together and Shinwon is, for lack of a better word, tired. It doesn’t help that Hongseok and Hyunggu are bothering about him even more, ever since he had told them about the whole sandwich thing, and he has regretted ever telling them since then. He wonders if the three of them are bothering Hwitaek about it too, but then he remembers that the man doesn’t feel the same and he gets even more annoyed. And, even if he does, Hwitaek can be scary when he wants to be and Hongseok and Hyunggu will get scared after a day. And, Hwitaek rarely checks his text messages, so Hyojong’s texts would be of no use at all. But it all boils down to the fact that Hwitaek doesn’t, and will never, feel the same, so Shinwon has come to the conclusion that Hyojong, Hongseok and Hyunggu just want to make his life miserable. 

“You’re acting weird again,” Hongseok whispers in his ear, tongue in cheek. That’s something that he has been doing a lot lately — commenting how Shinwon is acting weird around Hwitaek. Shinwon ignores him most of the time, because he has not been acting weird around Hwitaek. In fact, he has not been acting weird at all. If he had been, Hwitaek would have noticed and said something.

He rolls his eyes, watching as Hwitaek talks to Hyunggu about a drum loop, and whispers back, “I’m not. Never have been.”

Hongseok elbows him, “Aren’t you jealous that he’s talking to Hyunggu instead of you?”

“I think you’re jealous that your boyfriend is talking to Hui,” Shinwon bites back, and Hongseok shakes his head disapprovingly, slumping further into the couch. Hwitaek calls them over after he is done with Hyunggu, and the conversation is over. 

(And, if Shinwon makes a point to stay close to Hwitaek’s side when they are discussing what guitar tone to use in the demo, that’s on Hongseok for overthinking things again.)

They submit their demos to the label by the end of spring. Actual recording doesn’t start until summer, so days have been lazy for the band. Hwitaek comes over for dinner at Shinwon’s place one night, just the two of them. None of them can cook so they simply order in, and as Hwitaek leans against the foot of Shinwon’s couch (God knows why he is on the floor), picking at a serving of tteokbokki from a nearby Korean restaurant which, to be honest, is really bad, he looks up at Shinwon who is sprawled on the couch, “About that road trip.”

“About what?” Shinwon blinks, setting down his own tteokbokki. Shitty soap opera reruns are playing on the television now, blending into background noise. 

Hwitaek shoots him an unimpressed look, “Didn’t you say we should go on a road trip together? Let’s go now.”

“When did I ever say that?” Shinwon narrows his eyes, but the sound of going on a trip with Hwitaek doesn’t sound bad at all.

“Yo, when I was calling you from Philly on that trip with Hyojong, you said we could go together again,” Hwitaek complains, “You forget everything.”

“I think you just remember everything,” Shinwon shoots back, but his expression mirrors Hwitaek’s happy one, “Where to?”

Excited, Hwitaek bounces up to get his phone, typing something into the keyboard, “I’d say we should go to Philly, but that’s boring. We should, like, go explore a new city or something.”

“With Hongseok and Hyunggu?” 

The other looks up at him, wrinkling his nose, “Are you sure you wanna go with the lovebirds?”

Shinwon is quick to shake his head, and Hwitaek laughs at that, “I figured. It’s just going to be the two of us. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

A road trip with Hwitaek, alone. Shinwon wonders how that would go.

They end up deciding that Newport would be a decent destination, and by the time they finish their tteokbokki serving, they have already booked a room in a B&B by the sea for the weekend, with Hwitaek grumbling about the prices all the time. It is then when they realize that neither of them own a car because there is not much of a reason to, especially when they live in a city where everywhere they need to go is within a walking distance, so Hwitaek starts looking up rental cars. At one point, after scrolling through too many websites, Hwitaek begrudgingly calls Hyojong and asks to borrow his car (because obviously, out of all the people they know, it would be Kim Hyojong who owns a car). It is then that Shinwon finally realizes that he is really going on a road trip with Hwitaek, no Hongseok or Hyunggu or Hyojong, just the two of them. 

Hwitaek goes back to his own apartment when it’s late and they have most things settled, and Shinwon receives a text from Hyojong, if u dont confess to hui in ur trip then i will do it for u. He pointedly leaves him on read and kind of wishes that Hwitaek didn’t borrow Hyojong’s car so the man wouldn't know about the trip at all. 

They tell Hongseok and Hyunggu, just so that they know that they will be out of town for a few days. Hwitaek is there, so neither of them can say too much but nod, but smirks begin to settle on their faces. The moment Hwitaek steps out of their studio (with Hyunggu asking him to buy them all coffee with a pout that no one can say no to), the two of them turn to Shinwon, shit-eating grins on their faces. Shinwon is certain that Hongseok must be the devil’s incarnate when he says, “A road trip? Just the two of you?”

“What, do you want to come with?” Shinwon asks nonchalantly, and Hyunggu rolls his eyes at that.

“As if you won’t want to murder us if we did.”

Shinwon frowns, “Why would I? It would be fun.”

Hongseok tsks, flicking at a biscuit crumb on the table. He slings an arm around Shinwon’s shoulder, “Think about it, Shinwon. Just you and Hui, in a car together. Exploring Newport holding hands or some shit. Would you really want me and Hyunggu to come with?”

“That’s not what we are going to do,” Shinwon replies weakly, pushing the other’s arm off him, “We’re just going on a road trip. No big deal.”

“No big deal? It’s only gonna be the two of you.”

Rolling his eyes, Shinwon says, “Hui went on that road trip to Philly with Hyojong, remember? And there’s nothing between them.”

Hyunggu clicks his tongue, “That’s different. It’s you and Hui this time, Shinwon.”

“I don’t see any difference.”

“Well, there is,” Hongseok interrupts, “And if you don’t get your shit together in Newport, I don’t know when you will.”

“It’s gonna be so romantic,” Hyunggu gushes, shaking Hongseok’s arm now. Shinwon doesn’t see why they are so excited, but he has gotten used to their tormenting now, so he simply rolls his eyes again.

Hwitaek pushes his way back into the studio, a cardboard carrier of coffee in his hands. He sets it down on the table, “What did I miss?”

Hongseok and Hyunggu exchange a smile, before Hyunggu shrugs, “Nothing. We’re just telling Shinwon that you guys should get us something from Newport, since you’re going after all.”

Grabbing his own coffee, Hwitaek makes a face, “I’ll think about it. You only care about gifts, huh?”

“You got Shinwon a fucking sandwich from Philly!” Hongseok protests, jokingly indignant. Hwitaek sticks out his tongue, petulant as he plops down next to Shinwon, so close that their thighs are pressed together.

“Shinwon’s different. At least he’s nice to me.”

As the three erupts into a debate about whether Hongseok and Hyunggu are nice to Hwitaek, Shinwon casts a not-so-discreet look at the man who is talking animatedly with his hands about how the couple are mean to him all the time, and smiles to himself. 

On Friday morning, they pack their duffel bags into the trunk of Hyojong’s Prius and drive off to Rhode Island. It is almost a four-hour drive, but they put on good music as Hwitaek drives, so neither of them find it too unbearable. Shinwon reads through Newport travel guides he has bookmarked and suggests places they can visit as they speed through a highway, and Hwitaek recites to him a funny story Hyojong had told him. It’s comfortable, and Shinwon has a feeling that he’s going to have a really, really good time. 

They arrive just after lunch time, so restaurants are less busy when they are settled down in their room in the B&B. It is then when they figure out that their room only provides one double bed, something they failed to check before they were reserving the room, and Shinwon pretends to be nonchalant when he suggests that they simply share the bed (after all, it’s not like they have never done so before). 

“Where are we going next?” asks Hwitaek as he cuts up a small piece of bacon from his all-day breakfast, chewing happily. Shinwon shrugs as he squints at the travel guide that is currently on his phone.

“We can go on a drive by the ocean. They say the view is nice.”

Hwitaek scrunches his face, and it looks unbelievably endearing, “Tempting, but I don’t think either of us wants to be in a car anymore. Later.”

Shinwon laughs, “Fair. Cliff Walk? The view’s nice. Or we can, like, visit one of the museums. We need to do the Cliff Walk at least once, though.”

“Let’s just go to the museums,” Hwitaek says thoughtfully, “We should, like, actually plan our trip out. Maybe tonight, when we go back to the hotel.”

“Okay, then,” Shinwon nods, “Do you wanna look at cars, or art?”

There is a pat on his knee beneath the table, and Hwitaek smiles up at him, “Doesn’t matter. You decide.”

They end up walking around a history museum instead. Halfway through the exhibition, Hwitaek stands up on his tip-toes to whisper in Shinwon’s ear, “I kind of wish we did that Cliff Walk now.”

Shinwon huffs out a short laugh, “Do you wanna leave and go look at cars?” 

Hwitaek laughs too, “Let’s speed walk through this and go to the car museums, then.”

The car museum is still a museum, but Hwitaek looks more interested than he had been. He gets especially excited at one of the vintage cars, dragging Shinwon along by the arm. When he is done looking, though, his arm remains looped around Shinwon’s, and it doesn’t seem like he plans on letting go anytime soon. 

At the end, they decide to simply walk around downtown until dinnertime. Hwitaek buys Hyunggu and Hongseok a bunch of bath bombs from a shop they randomly stop by, muttering something about how the two should be grateful. They get seafood at a waterfront restaurant and Hwitaek orders mojitos for the both of them, insisting on paying for everything when they leave. On the way back to the B&B, neither of them in a rush, they discover an arcade and spend an hour playing old video games (Shinwon wins all of them). It feels so much like a date that Shinwon has fantasized about too many times that he has to pinch himself on the thigh as a reminder that it’s not real, not at all. 

That night, Shinwon pretends not to see the texts that Hongseok has sent him, and decides that for this weekend, he will not let Hyojong or Hongseok or Hyunggu get to him. Shinwon has come to realize that he, in his conscious brain, likes Hwitaek but not as a friend for almost three years now — but he has also accepted that the older man will never feel the same three years ago. He has never thought about confessing, because he has an inkling that it wouldn’t end well. No matter what, Hwitaek is important to Shinwon, as a friend, as a bandmate, just as a person in general. He makes the decision that whatever Hyojong or Hongseok or Hyunggu says will not bother him anymore. 

(They share a bed, but Shinwon finds it hard to fall asleep. Not when Hwitaek, sound asleep next to him, shuffles over and snuggles into his side, blissfully unaware of anything that is happening. And, because he can’t think straight late at night, he snakes an arm around the man’s waist and holds him close.)

The next day they go on the drive by the ocean. There are attractions along the entire drive, so Hwitaek ends up stopping every ten minutes. They explore the mansions, and Shinwon gets used to having Hwitaek drag him by the arm whenever he sees anything exciting. At the end of the drive, they reach a spot with a nice view, so Hwitaek pulls over and they sit by the seaside, just for a while. 

Shinwon has always liked looking at oceans — it calms him down immensely, clearing his head whenever it gets too much. Hwitaek looks in awe with the view, mouth agape as he stares out at the sea, legs stretched out and thighs pressed against Shinwon’s. At one point, Hwitaek leans his head on Shinwon’s shoulder hesitantly, like he didn’t know if it was okay. Shinwon only relaxes against the touch, shifting so Hwitaek can be more comfortable where he is.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed. Hwitaek, after a long while, breaks the silence, and breathes out, “Shinwon?”

“Yeah?”

Hwitaek doesn’t respond and closes his eyes for a second. He smiles, “Nevermind.”

Their interaction by the sea leaves a lot of things unsaid between them, like how it feels when a rainstorm brews in the clouds, leaving the sky gray and cloudy, but rain still refuses to fall. Shinwon feels like they will probably have to sort it out, but they are barely halfway through a trip together. Serious things can wait. 

Before they drive back, they find a small movie theatre that is playing Before Sunrise in half an hour, and so they get tickets after parking their car somewhere else. Shinwon has seen the movie multiple times, and so has Hwitaek, but neither of them had ever seen it in cinema yet, so it’s a new experience. Hwitaek has both arms on the armrests on either side of his seat, and Shinwon places his arm right on top of the other’s, mostly as a joke, in the middle of the film. He can hear Hwitaek’s exasperated sigh in the dark, mostly empty theatre, before the older man withdraws his arm from underneath Shinwon’s and grabs his hand, moving it back down to his thigh. It’s not something that Shinwon is unfamiliar with (after all, Hwitaek loves physical contact), but it does surprise him when Hwitaek doesn’t move his hand and keeps it clutched around Shinwon’s, stretched over the armrest. Neither of them talk about it when Shinwon intertwines their hands, keeping their eyes on the screen, nor do they talk about it when they walk out of the movie theatre with their hands still linked. 

Dinner is comfortable minus the times when Hwitaek looks like he wants to get something off his chest but holds himself back. They are situated in another restaurant by the dock, some clam chowder and lobster ravioli. Halfway through dinner Shinwon receives a text from Hyojong, how is the lobster at rhode island, and he snorts out a laugh. Hwitaek looks up, confused. Shinwon shows him the text and the other laughs too, before telling him to snap a picture for Hyojong. He does, and Hyojong sends a jealous emoticon back. 

“You wanna get drinks later?” Hwitaek asks as he slurps up the last of his soup, “I heard the calamari’s good at this bar.”

Shinwon shrugs, “I’m down if you are.”

So, after dinner, they visit a cocktail bar downtown. The bartender recognizes them and offers them calamari on the house, and the special cocktails they ordered are decorated extra nicely. Shinwon keeps forgetting that there are people who may recognize him on the streets now — he is no longer a college kid who is in a shitty garage band, it is actually his career now. He still feels crazy about the whole thing. Then, he comes to the realization that if a bartender can recognize them, then there are probably some more people who have seen them on their trip. He hasn’t been on social media much lately. He makes a mental note to check when they are back in the B&B.

The first thing that Shinwon does when they are in their B&B room is to open the Twitter app — and, like how he expected, there were pictures of him and Hwitaek floating around. There’s a few of them holding hands, and Shinwon turns to Hwitaek, who is sprawled across the bed, “They found us.”

“Who?”

“People. They saw us and took pictures.”

Hwitaek sits up from the bed and squints at Shinwon’s phone screen, where a picture of them holding hands in downtown Newport is displayed. Shinwon eyes him carefully, not sure how he would react.

Flopping back onto the bed, Hwitaek closes his eyes again, “They are sneaky.”

“Do you want me to tweet something?” Shinwon offers, “They’ll probably take them down if I asked.”

“Nah, too much work,” Hwitaek answers, yawning, “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t mind that… These pictures are going around?”

The older man sits up again and looks at Shinwon seriously, “Do you?”

Shinwon shakes his head silently. Hwitaek nods, satisfied, and falls back onto bed. 

There is a text from Hyunggu that Shinwon didn’t see, so he opens it and regrets it immediately. Maybe he should’ve expected it after seeing the pictures on Twitter. Hyunggu simply sends him a crappy screenshot of the same picture Shinwon had shown to Hwitaek, attached with a Lenny Face. Sighing, Shinwon turns his phone off, tapping a finger on the older man’s calf. 

“What?”

“Scoot over.”

Hwitaek rolls over so he is back onto his side of the bed, without opening his eyes the whole time. It’s kind of impressive, really. Shinwon climbs into bed and the other immediately shifts closer, snuggling into his side. The younger laughs, and just like last night, they fall asleep holding each other close.

The next day, they ditch breakfast at the B&B and get brunch at a café by the seaside. Shinwon pretends not to notice when Hwitaek steals half a crab cake off his plate and trades it for a piece of bacon. After that, they finally go for the Cliff Walk. It’s their last full day at Newport, after all, they are driving back tomorrow after brunch — Shinwon is not going to leave without doing the Cliff Walk at least once. 

Hwitaek makes Shinwon take a picture of him in front of the ocean, beaming up at the camera and squinting at the sunlight. He is wearing an oversized Patagonia T-shirt which hangs right off his body, and his jeans are cuffed around his ankles, right above his pair of Converses. The photo turns out kind of blurry but he looks satisfied enough, dragging Shinwon along right after. He hesitates a little before interlocking their hands as they walk along the Cliff Walk in silence.

Shinwon looks down at their linked hands, “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Do you?” Hwitaek raises an eyebrow, loosening his grip. Shinwon shakes his head and tightens his hold, squeezing the older’s hand before they start walking again.

“People might take pictures, though,” Shinwon muses, “Not that it matters.”

Hwitaek snorts, “It’s not like they didn’t take pictures yesterday. Doesn’t matter.”

They walk down The Forty Steps, which leads them directly to the ocean. Hwitaek finds a dry spot on one of the rocks, so they sit there and watch the sea for a while, hands still intertwined. Neither of them speak for a long time, sitting in silence as waves come and go, the ocean breeze blowing gently at their faces.

“Shinwon.”

“Yeah?”

Staring out at the ocean, Hwitaek asks wistfully, “Do you hold my hand because I’m clingy, or because you want to?”

It’s a simple question, but it makes Shinwon’s heart beat at his throat. The waves crash against the rocks loudly but the ringing in his ears are even louder. He swallows, “What about you? Do you hold my hand because you are clingy, or because you want to?”

An amused smile ghosts at Hwitaek’s lips. He shrugs, “I dunno. Can it be both?”

Despite himself, Shinwon smiles too. He doesn’t look away from the sea as he asks, “And those times on stage, did you kiss me because you wanted to? Or was it just for show?”

Hwitaek stays silent, and then he finally turns to him, “If it was just for show, it wouldn’t be you who I kissed.”

Shinwon actually laughs out loud, feigning a gag, “You’d kiss Hongseok on stage?”

The older man laughs too, before he looks at Shinwon seriously in the eye, “I’m not someone who’d randomly kiss a dude on stage just for show.”

“I know.”

The two fall into silence again. Hwitaek speaks up after a while, “You know, Hyojong keeps sending me these texts. He keeps asking when I’ll tell you that I like you. I leave him on read every time.”

If Shinwon’s heart had been beating in his throat, then it must be beating out his body now, floating somewhere in space. It is deafening and Shinwon can only hear his heartbeat and Hwitaek’s voice, and he tilts his head down to meet Hwitaek’s eyes, “That’s funny. He’s been sending me those exact same texts too. I also leave him on read every time.”

Hwitaek beams up at him. There isn’t anyone around them, so Shinwon leans down to kiss him. It doesn’t matter if people do end up seeing them anyways. The older man kisses back, sweet and chaste. It’s unlike the hurried, desperate kisses that they have shared on stage or tucked away in the bathrooms after a show — they have all the time in the world now. New England is chilly even in spring and Rhode Island does its best and blows its hardest, but no wind can pull them apart. 

When Hwitaek pulls back, Shinwon only leans forward to chase after his lips. Their noses bump together and they end up giggling into each other’s mouths, so they pull apart finally. 

Hwitaek leans his head on Shinwon’s shoulder again with a content sigh, humming happily when Shinwon presses his lips into his hair. 

The next day, they drive back home and leave Newport behind. At one point, with miles whistling away beneath them as they speed down Interstate 95, Hwitaek reaches for Shinwon’s hand and presses a kiss into his palm, another hand on the steering wheel. They exchange a smile as the sun beats down on them, warm and comforting against their skin.