『Starlight』▷ dodam｡

the sound of the clock

It was well past eleven o'clock when they came home, skies dark and everywhere white. Snow was piled up on Doyoung head and shoulders, his coat sat atop Yedam's head instead of his own. He took it before they entered the dorm, brushing off the snow then hung it on the hall tree, huffing as he noticed a snow-covered coat sloppily placed on a hook. He was going to have to scold Jeongwoo again.

Albeit inside the supposedly cozy little dorm of theirs, the air was anything but warm. The heater must be broken again. Sometimes, it was truly a wonder how they managed to live through all of these years despite breaking everything necessary every single week.

He crinkled his nose before letting out another huff, briefly hearing the distinctive sound of Yedam's giggle by his side right after. "You know who broke the heater?" he mumbled.

The older shook his head, more dismissive than denying. "I'm not entirely sure," he replied. "Although I do remember hearing Junghwan and Jeongwoo shuffling around earlier today."

Ah.

Of course it had to be them.

Hyunsuk was going to have a field day nagging them for it. Jihoon was never really one to scold them for things like these, although it was more because he wasn't really one to speak as he had broken quite a few things in the house himself and would likely be snarked at if he did. He'd always complained about that, something about his children favoring their pig of a mother instead and would always get clapped in the head for it.

"Wow, talk about rebels. It's past curfew hours, y'know."

The aforementioned leader— Jihoon, as the former would have already been glowering at them had he spotted them coming home near midnight and baring his teeth in warn. Instead they were greeted by bright hair and a stare full of sass, one hand on a water bottle and the other up to rub his eye.

"Hyung, we're literally 24."

"Excuse me?" Jihoon scoffed. "You're 23. It's still December 3. Also, Yedam is 25."

"My point still stands," he quickly supplied, sighing softly because if the other heard it he would act all offended even if he really wasn't. "What kind of adult has a curfew?"

"The kind that lives in a shared dorm instead of his own house."

"Hey, I'll have you know I can buy myself a house."

"Yeah, but can you live by yourself?"

Recoiling at the metaphysical hit he just received, Doyoung bristled. Jihoon was smug as he gulped down another mouthful of water, before he soon his head and dismissively waved his hand in front of his face.

He swore that Jihoon's sass intensified whenever he was near someone whose birthday was right around the corner. Proof was more than enough considering that they had spent so many years together and at this point everyone had already experienced getting targeted by the snarky leader.

Yedam rolled his eyes noncommittally at their exchange, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Alright, that's enough," he interjected, pushing Doyoung forward lightly. "Let's go get you to your room, hm?"

"Why me?" the younger whined, but didn't protest further as he was pushed up the stairs. He grumbled a little but was shut up by Yedam's castigating, yet somehow gentle gaze, opting to instead hunch his back sulkily as he dragged his feet up each step.

The shorter grinned exasperatedly at the sight but continued to nudge him forward. He stopped after a few steps, stretching his neck to glance back at Jihoon who still stood in the middle of the living room,  hollering as quietly as he could, "Get some sleep, hyung!"

Jihoon hummed in reply, loud enough for both of the other boys to hear.

Knowing him, it was probably meant to be something along the lines of an answer that was neither agreement nor refusal, so that he wouldn't have to lie and be caught for it. Doyoung sometimes admired his braveness to being so obvious.

Like him, Yedam still didn't move forward despite receiving somewhat of an answer.

"I'm serious, hyung," his voice wasn't loud, but the silence of the empty room made it be heard. "Everyone's been worried. Hyunsuk-hyung's counselor is going insane hearing about you every single appointment."

The other didn't reply this time. Yedam exhaled loudly before overtaking Doyoung, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him up the stairs to his room. When they got there, Doyoung released a breath he didn't know he had been holding, frowning slightly at Yedam.

"You talk to Hyunsuk-hyung's counselor?"

"I don't. Hyunsuk-hyung told me himself."

Doyoung brought a hand up to his hair, ruffling it a little out of habit. It was a stressed or nervous habit, of sorts. Either wasn't good and Yedam must have noticed, as he took a step forward and offered a small, assuring smile.

He inched closer to Doyoung, tangling his fingers to the younger's locks and using them to pull him closer, attempting to press him flush against his chest even though it didn't quite work out with their height differences. So Doyoung held him instead, leaning his forehead onto his shoulder.

"It's frustrating, you know," he muttered, voice muffled by Yedam's shirt.

"What is?"

"Everything."

"Everything?"

Doyoung swallowed, feeling the tears of frustration prick his eyes, an embittering churn on his stomach. "It's all so frustrating," he said. "That you cried earlier, and that I still have no idea why you did. That Jihoon-hyung can't sleep and Hyunsuk-hyung can't last a day without panicking, worrying and just fretting about everything. That I can't do anything even if Shiho-hyung probably doesn't even want to come back to Korea anymore. That I... that I'm so useless, so weak that I can't fucking help. It's just, it's all just so annoying. I want it all to stop, Dami."

Yedam's face fell as his words registered in his mind, hands moving to grip onto his shirt in what was perhaps the same feeling that Doyoung was having right now.

Frustration.

Powerlessness.

Fatigue.

The past few years hadn't been treating them as kindly as ones they used to have, not when immense popularity attracted not just happiness but pain and danger. Not when almost half of their members were probably seeing psychiatrists no matter how they tried to hide it, not when one of them was slipping away from their grasps and their only escape was either the safety of their locked doors, or performing on the stage where their passions were but was also the place where they were always so mercilessly judged.

A bitter taste tainted his mouth, but Yedam tried his best to ignore it and comfort Doyoung instead.

"I know," he spoke. "I'm sorry."

Doyoung didn't respond, but he didn't stop talking even as his phone roared in alarm to signal the arrival of December fourth, hooting merrily in contrast to their somber moods.

"Happy birthday, Doyoung. I'm sorry I couldn't get you a gift."

"'S fine," Doyoung mumbled back. "Just, try to make my day better or something."

He cracked a smile, both satire and geniune for reasons no one else but Doyoung would understand.

"I'll try."

And then Doyoung was gazing at him like he was his whole world or something for the nth time that day again, but Yedam was too tired to care.