『Starlight』▷ dodam｡

please?

It was amazing, Yedam thought, that there was someone willing to follow him all the way to another country just to be met with his busy schedule and separated to him in the end. Nevertheless, Doyoung didn't seem to mind much even if they could barely see each other, instead busying himself with exploring places he hadn't been to before and routinely dropping by Mashiho's house as if to check up on him.

He exhaled, gaze flickering from his stupor down to the floor, fingers tightening around the case of his phone. "We're alright," he said. "I haven't been seeing Doyoung much, but we're texting. He's hanging out with Mashiho-hyung."

"Is Mashiho doing fine?" Hyunsuk asked. "About, you know... is he better now?"

Yedam paused, unsure of how to reply.

No matter how he wanted to give his affirmation, in the end he couldn't be the one to say. His mind almost instany hurtled back to when he first saw Mashiho after arriving to the country, the slightest smile he wore slipping off his face.

It was morning then, he recalled. The windows were open and allowed the sunlight to seep through, embellishing the then sleeping male with its golden hue. Flush against the couch was Mashiho, sweater paws against his chest much like his knees, all huddled up to himself and fast asleep despite it being early morning. He had been awake up until a moment ago but had somehow drifted off to dreams while watching a random show, his mother told Yedam. The Korean had chuckled under his breath, all too familiar with Mashiho and his adorable habits.

He looked so peaceful at that moment that Yedam didn't want to wake him up. It felt like he would be ruining something that he shouldn't if he did, so he sat across him and watched him sleep. It hadn't been boring at all. Mashiho was always such an entertaining sight no matter what he did, warmth and joy spreading through anyone's hearts as they beheld him. It was part of the many reasons that so many had gotten so infatuated with him, why he had thousands if not millions of fans that would willingly risk their voices just to chant his name each time he so much cracked a laugh. Despite the many years that had gone, Mashiho was still adorable and Treasure-makers loved him for that just like his mashmellows did.

Yedam felt somehow sorry that they couldn't see him like in the past anymore.

Forget concerts, comebacks and live interactions— they couldn't even get a picture of his shadow, much less see his face at all. Even a mere post on social media was nowhere to be found. Thankfully enough, albeit they missed him like the sun did the moon, they never once complained. Instead, they flooded everywhere with supportive messages for him, hoping that he could eventually recover from the trauma he received. And even if he didn't, they'd still support him.

Yedam knew more than anyone else that Mashiho wanted to, as well. He wanted to stand on the stages he used to dance on, to sing new melodies that would touch people's souls. And perhaps, if time and therapy allowed wounds and fears to heal, then Mashiho could come back to them.

"He's... better, but not completely just yet," he told Hyunsuk, hoping that he couldn't hear the uncertainty in his voice too much. "But he's trying. Definitely. I'm sure he'll come back to us soon, hyung. Don't worry too much."

"I'm doing better too, Yedami."

The singer paused.

He let out a wry, yet somehow relieved laugh, the sound coming off squeaky and odd.

I'm doing better too. You don't need to treat me like I'm made of glass.

Subconciously, it had become a habit. Treating Hyunsuk as if he were the most fragile thing in the world, makign sure that he wouldn't have anything to fret about. Even if they had done it out their love for him, to him as their older brother, it probably felt like his pride was being crushed. To see his younger brothers who in his mind he was supposed to protect, now euphemising and hiding everything when it came to him, it must have been a defeating feeling.

Ever since he was diagnosed with anxiety disorder, they had begun to look at him as someone to coddle more than a person they could lean on, and that was the most painful feeling to a brother— to a mother, who had worked his bones through harrowing stones just to raise them to where they were now.

"Are you writing our next song, hyung?" Yedam asked instead.

"Maybe."

Hyunsuk was never good at trying to act vague. That was a part Jihoon's skillset, not his. Naturally, it wasn't hard to tell that he wasn't so uncertain.

"I'm looking forward to it."

The rapper chuckled, a shuffling sound heard before he replied, "No promises," but Yedam knew that he had already decided from the way that Jihoon was laughing somewhere in the background, teasing Hyunsuk.

There was a whole lot of guffaws, thumps and thuds that Yedam assumed were just random stuff getting thrown at Jihoon's face judging by Junkyu's laughter, then Hyunsuk finally collected himself and said, "Rest up, now. We'll talk to you later again."

"Okay. Good night, hyung."

"Good night."

He placed his phone down the moment that the call ended, letting himself fall back to the bed with the help of gravity and—

"Doyoung?"

"Hi," the boy greeted. "Hi."

Yedam grunted, shifting on the bed so that he could get more comfortable. Well, as comfrotable as Doyoung's legs which were straddling him could allow him to. "How'd you get in here?"

The other flashed him a grin, waving around the spare hotel room key that definitely should've been with his manager rather than his best-friend-who-likes-him-that-maybe-he-kinda-likes-back.

"Why are you here then?"

"I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

Wait what?

He clamped his mouth shut as if that could make Doyoung forget what he had just blurted out, face flaring with red in embarrassment. As expected, it didn't help, and the younger ended up wearing an uncontrollable smile on his face.

Stupid Yedam. Stupid mouth.

Why the hell did he have to reply that quickly?

"Get off," he commanded, as if he hadn't just admitted that he missed him back in a heartbeat.

"No. Can we cuddle?"

"No."

Doyoung deflated, a pout replacing the lopsided smile on the edges of his lips, but he still looked at him like he was his everything.

"Please?"

Yedam let himself stare at those starry eyes for a little more than a second, and he ended up letting Doyoung cling to him for the whole night instead.

His arm ended up falling asleep. He regretted it.

("Morning," Doyoung said, then pressed a kiss on the crook of his neck.)

Okay, maybe he kind of didn't.

Just kind of.

But not really.

-----

Guess what happened to Mashi.

This was actually supposed to be an angsty chappie but I was watching cuteass gay couples so it ended up like this.