Yunho was sure. Like, a hundred percent sure.
He had asked Seonghwa to come watch them perform to have a chat and figure out if his feelings still stood in the big abyss of uncertainty but it had turned out better than he expected.
Well, for his feelings at least, he sure hoped Seonghwa was safe. Hongjoong had looked pretty angry when he had dragged him away.
He would have checked on them if he didn't see them five minutes later walk out of the bar hand in hand. For a moment the thought of them being a couple crossed his mind, it would make a lot of sense. It would explain Hongjoong's anger right afyer Seongjwa had kissed his cheek at last.
But still, when Seonghwa had hugged him it didn't feel the same as when he had hugged Mingi. And neither it did when Seonghwa had kissed his cheek.
His heart didn't beat as hard, didn't beat as fast.
He was currently sitting on a stool at the bar counter. He had ordered a drink right after that revelation and now it was close to finished.
He sighed.
Guess he would have to confess now, huh?
***
San was looking around the bar. He had seen Wooyoung when he was on stage. He would have walked up to him then but he couldn't leave the band just like that, so now he was looking around helplessy to try and find the man.
It didn't help that Wooyoung had black hair. Hell, a lot of people have black hair.
After that morning when Wooyoung had left without saying anything while he was preparing breakfast, San hadn't been able to contact the younger at all.
He had tried texting him, calling him, but the texts were all left on delivered and the calls imediately went to voice mail.
So now that he knew the other was here he had to talk to him. He had to.
Because even if San had approached him for his looks he had come to know Wooyoung was an incredibly sweet guy, caring and thoughtful, despite all his struggles, and San felt the impulse to protect him, let him know that he was there not for something, but just because he wanted to.
He still found him attractive of course, he just could see everything else behing those looks, and he had come to like it.
He was walking to the bar when he finally spotted him. Wooyoung was there, at the counter, sipping on a drink looking nowhere in particular, when their eyes met.
Wooyoung widened his eyes. San began to walk up to him, but the other just stood up from the stool he was previously sitting on and walked away, leaving the drink on the counter top.
He followed him. He needed to talk to him, maybe understand why Wooyoung was avoiding him. He kept following and following, until Wooyoung disappeared.
San helplessy looked around trying to find him, but he couldn't see him. He saw Hongjoong leaving with Seonghwa hand in hand, but that was one of his last concerns.
And then it was almost as if a light bulb lit up in his brain.
Maybe Wooyoung had gone to the bathroom to hide.
Why he was hiding San didn't know, but he decided to check either way.
He entered the bathroom, the music decreasing considerably in volume as the doors closed. The stalls were lined up in front of him, but not one was locked. The room was empty.
He walked back out into the crowd, a sigh of frustration leaving his lips. He had lost his chance to talk to Wooyoung.
He couldn't see why he should remain there anymore. The whole reason he had decided to stay in the first place was to talk to Wooyoung, but if he couldn't find the younger he would just go home.
So he went back to the back room, retroeved his guitar, and walked back into the crowd to head to the door leading to the outside in front of the parking lot.
However when he went put in the not so cold night air he received a pleasant surprise. He was about to take a cigarette out from the packed in his pocket when, right beside the small table where the ashtray was placed, he saw exactly who he was looking for.
Wooyoung was there, looking up at the dark sky with one cigarette in hand, the other resting in his pocket. He was partially hidden by the wall beside him, but San could easily recognize him even when only half of his face could be seen.
He reached out to him, walking closer. "Wooyoung–"
Their eyes met, and, once again, Wooyoung attempted to run away, but San wouldn't allow that, couldn't allow that.
He lunged forward, gripping the other by the hem of his shirt -it was the first thing he could get a hold of- and Wooyoung was forced back while he turned around to face San.
His eyes held so many emotions San couldn't place all of them, but he could distinctely point out some. Sadness, fear, panic.
Why would Wooyoung be scared of him?
"Woo, why–"
"I'm sorry!" Wooyoung sobbed out, tears immediately starting to fall out of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks, "I'm so sorry! I'm- I‐"
San didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected this reaction at all. Then all of a sudden, Wooyoung legs gave out, and he would have fallen on the concete knees first if San hadn't grabbed him and hold him up.
"Wooyoung I–" He tried to speak, he tried to say something, but everytime he opened his mouth his words were cut off by the sobs leaving the other.
He slowly lowered them both so that Wooyoung could sit, even if the ground was probably not clean at all, and settled for holding him close until the younger's breath returned to normal once again, and the whimpers leaving his mouth became less and less frequent.
A few people walking out of the door sent them strange looks, some annoyed, other concerned, but San didn't let go.
Once Wooyoung had completely calmed down he pulled back just enough to look at him, not once removing his arms from around his body.
"Did you drive here?" San asked softly, almost scared that if he spoke any louder Wooyoung would get scared and run away once again.
He received a nod in response.
"...Do you want to get back home?"
Another nod. It was understandable. San would probably want to go back home too if he cried for a good half an hour outside of a bar.
He hesitated for a second, then asked, "...Are you able to drive back home?"
Wooyoung shook his head, not meeting his gaze.
San stood up and offered him a hand to help the younger up too. Wooyoung took it, again, without looking in his eyes.
In a silent agreement they both walked over to the younger's car after Wooyoung gave him the keys, San getting in the driver seat and Wooyoung in the passenger seat with his head hung low and his hands fiddling with each other.
San was really tempted to take one of his hands into his own to stop it, but he resisted the urge, asking the other his adress instead.
When they arrived it was silent once again. Wooyoung wouldn't lift his gaze off the ground, and San couldn't think of anything to say since he didn't even know why the other had started crying in the first place. He was afraid Wooyoung would burst once again and that was the last thing he wanted.
They reached Wooyoung's apartment door. Wooyoung turned to him, his eyes fixed on the floor and when San smiled at him, he finally muttered a small "thank you", before stepping inside and clos8ng the door behind him.
San stood for a few seconds staring at the closed door in front of him.
Then he sighed.
He took out his phone and dialed a number, bringing the device to his ears.
A few beeps later a voice sounded from the other line.
"San? Why are you calling?"
"Hey Jongho, can you pick me up?"
***
Tears streamed down his face as he walked into the warm night of May.
It hurt. It hurt so freaking much.
He thought he could be able to stay around him, and at first he was, really. During sound check everything was fine. During the performance everything was fine. Even in the back room after everything had been fine.
He had planned to stay at the bar, let loose a little, find someone to get his mind off of him, but then he had seen Yunho walk out of the room and to Seonghwa.
It was shocking enough Yunho knew Seonghwa for Mingi, but then Seonghwa had hugged him so tightly and Mingi had felt a tug on his heart so strong that he coyld have sworn it had broke into pieces so small no one could even see them.
And then Seonghwa had kissed Yunho's cheeks, and Mingi couldn't see no more.
He had turned and run out of the place without turning back once.
He had left his bass there, he had left his car there.
He didn't even had his phone with him right now.
And maybe that was for the best, really, because after some time -if only a few minutes or hours he didn't know- the sky started getting covered by dark clouds, the mood hiding behind them, and droplets of cold water started falling.
He couldn't care less about the rain if he was being honest.
It was as if the sky had sensed his humer and proceeded to match it.
Rain. The tears of the sky.
They fell of his body, on his face, soaking his clothes and wetting his hair to then fall one again to meet the concrete of the sidewalk beneath his feet.
And right then and there he decided that maybe he should stop contacting the other unless it was absolutely necessary, that he would stop reaching out for him.
That was for the best, right?