hongjoong woke up in a cold sweat, confused and breathless, his eyes darting around a room that did not feel like his own. the ceiling was too white, the air too still. it took a few slow seconds for the pieces to fall into place; the pale curtains, the faint scent of eucalyptus, the hum of the city just outside the window.

he was in seonghwa's apartment.

his heart sank.

his head throbbed mercilessly from the tequila that had burned down his throat the night before, and his mouth tasted like regret. he groaned softly, rubbing his eyes with trembling fingers, trying to blink the memories back into place. he reached blindly for his phone on the nightstand and unlocked it, the bright screen stabbing into his vision like a knife. a few missed messages from his coworkers, time-stamped just past two a.m.

but none of it mattered. because the memory was already crawling its way up his spine like a chill.

seonghwa at the club; the way his eyes had scanned the room until they found him, the way he had froze like he was not sure if he should have been there. the way hongjoong's breath had caught in his chest the moment he saw him, everything else suddenly melting into noise. the alcohol had not dulled it. nothing ever did.

then seonghwa had left. and hongjoong, in some pathetic, drunken instinct, had followed him out. he did not remember how he got there, did not remember the words they exchanged, if there were any at all. just seonghwa's voice, gentle and low, and his hand on hongjoong's arm, guiding him inside. into the warmth. into safety.

and then... well. he kissed seonghwa.

hongjoong sat up slowly, nausea and panic swirling in his gut like a storm. he could not believe what he had done. he could not believe he had put seonghwa in that position. after all the silence, the distance, the ache of letting go, he had gone and kissed him like nothing happened.

he clenched the bedsheets in his fists, furious with himself. confused. why had he done it? why did part of him still want to? why did he not leave things buried like he was supposed to?

he did not have the courage to move. the shame held him down like a weight, and the silence outside the door made him feel like a ghost haunting a place he did not belong in.

minutes passed, or maybe it was longer. time stretched thin in the stillness.

then there was a knock at the door.

"hongjoong?" seonghwa's voice came quietly, hesitant. like he was unsure if it was okay to speak at all. "are you awake?"

hongjoong swallowed hard, the dryness in his throat making his voice rough. "yeah," he answered, barely above a whisper.

there was a pause.

"can i come in?"

he hesitated, then nodded before remembering that seonghwa couldn't see him. "sure," he said, voice stiff.

the door opened slowly, the hinges groaning faintly. seonghwa stepped inside with cautious footsteps, dressed in soft, worn pajamas. his hair was slightly tousled like he had not slept much, and his expression was calm, but tired. maybe even sad.

he did not say anything right away. he just stood there, one hand still on the doorknob, eyes searching hongjoong's face like he was trying to find something in it.

"i wasn't sure if you'd remember," seonghwa said finally, his voice low, like he did not want to wake something fragile between them. "last night."

hongjoong looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "i do," he said. "some of it."

"enough?" seonghwa asked hesitantly.

hongjoong nodded. "yeah. enough."

the silence that followed was not awkward. instead, it was heavy. too full of everything they were not saying.

seonghwa stepped further into the room and sat gently at the edge of the bed, not too close. his hands folded in his lap, his posture careful.

"you kissed me," he said quietly, and there was no accusation in his tone. no anger. just the bare, aching truth of it.

hongjoong felt his chest tighten. "i know."

"why?" seonghwa asked, pure confusion in his voice.

the word hit him like a wave. small but overwhelming.

he could not answer.

how could he explain what it was like to carry someone in your heart even after you told yourself you had to let them go? how could he say that he missed seonghwa every single day, but still did not know how to be with him without ruining everything again? how could he explain the way his heart still lit up at the sound of seonghwa's laugh, or the way his hands still ached to hold him, or the way being near him was both home and hell?

he opened his mouth, then closed it again. no words came. just that same old burn behind his eyes.

"i was drunk," he said finally, and it sounded like a coward's excuse. "i shouldn't have—"

"don't," seonghwa interrupted gently. "don't blame it on that."

hongjoong looked at him then. really looked. seonghwa's eyes were soft, but tired. not from sleep, but from everything. from trying. from waiting, from hoping something could happen between the two of them.

"i just..." hongjoong whispered, voice cracking. "i don't know what i'm doing. i don't know what i want. not really."

seonghwa nodded slowly like he had already known that. like he had known it for a long time, and hearing it now just confirmed what he had already accepted.

"you said you didn't want to hurt me," he said, voice calm but shaking slightly. "but then you disappear. and when i finally see you again... you kiss me."

hongjoong winced. "i'm sorry."

"i'm not angry," seonghwa said, and he meant it. "i'm just... tired, joong. i'm tired of not knowing where i stand with you. i'm tired of holding on to something you keep letting go of."

hongjoong bit down on his lower lip, hard. his eyes were burning now. he wanted to speak, to say something, anything... but the words caught in his throat like thorns.

"what do you want from me?" seonghwa asked softly, and it was not bitter. it was a plea. "just tell me. please."

but hongjoong could not answer.

because the truth was, he wanted everything. he wanted mornings like this one, and late nights, and kisses that did not feel like mistakes. he wanted to love seonghwa without fear, without guilt, without the weight of everything that had broken between them.

but he did not know how.

and he did not know if wanting was enough.

his silence spoke louder than anything he could have said.

seonghwa let out a quiet breath and looked down at his hands, fingers tightening for just a moment before relaxing again.

"maybe it's better if we forget about last night," he said, voice steady despite everything. "pretend it didn't happen. we were both... in our heads. drunk. emotional."

hongjoong's heart clenched at that. the thought of pretending, erasing something that had felt so real, even if it was messy, hurt more than he thought it would.

but he nodded slowly. "okay," he said, barely audible.

"and maybe it's best," seonghwa added, standing now, smoothing the fabric of his pajama pants with trembling hands, "if we try to move on. really move on this time."

hongjoong stared at the floor, his fists clenched in the sheets. his voice was too small when he whispered, "okay."

"i'll make you some tea," seonghwa said, already halfway to the door. "for your head."

hongjoong did not stop him.

the door clicked shut a moment later, and he was alone again.

except this time, it felt worse than before.

because this time, he had something. even just for a moment, he had something. something he let it slip through his fingers again.

i'm sorry for being evil! but it won't stop here.

-vic