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When it circles back (to you)

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Masking the bitterness that swirls in his eyes is something he lacks the knowledge of. A result of the sight in front of him and it could be as simple as turning around and avoid watching the dimly lit stage--but his eyes remain fixed, the prussian and violet hues somehow highlighting the root of his discontent with utmost perfection. The focus of the nightclub he is currently at. And the way the deep voice seeps with softness through his ears really makes a question surface in Seoho's mind- -why on Earth does he allow for the sight of those sharp eyes to get to him so much?


Geonhak still looks as mesmerizing as ever, with a black loose shirt, mic in hand and, if Seoho dares somehow admit, shining more than anything else, "You are doing it again," a whisper fans against his face and there is a scoff coming from him as soon as  the sentence is finished, "You truly are staring at him again" accompanied by a finger pressing itself on his cheek, head turning to the side to see strands of freshly dyed hair, strands of emerald glimmering. 


"Maybe you shouldn't have brought me here, hyung" Seoho says with a shrug following his words, taking a sip from the beverage on his table and letting for sweetness in liquid form to coat his throat and maybe for it to let him halt this. An attempt at willing himself to actually avoid looking up. Youngjo looks at him curiously but only allows for his own reply to be a laugh that he soon replaces with a hum.


"Thought it would be interesting for you two to see each other again" 


Seoho rolls his eyes. 'Right' he mouths, thinking that he is only having fun at making him go through this, "I have been on tour for a year--I really don't have much to say" but he isn't certain when a familiar melody reaches his ears. It speaks of longing, craving for something that's long gone--but it's enough to display before his eyes memories he would rather forget.


It's the same song, it's the same voice. A similar environment and always that inquiry that insists forming itself in Seoho's mind whenever the clock hits the most silent point of the night, 'The hell were we?'


And when Geonhak's gaze finds itself locking with Seoho's, with clear realization painting his pupils in haste--Seoho repeats to himself an answer that has been circling his mind for about a year since they last were together, 'We actually were nothing' .


He raises from his seat, excusing himself and leaving Youngjo on their table and Geonhak as a background that he would love to leave behind fully. If the string of actions in this night weren't the same as back then, if the way he storms out of the same nightclub at one of the most exclusive buildings in the city didn't remind him of that moment--then Seoho could even dare say that he was taken back in time to the day he left the place out of pure abashment when their eyes first met. 


What they had was fast paced, maybe as much as the way his steps amp up in speed right now to take him to the terrace--applauses overflowing from the establishment and he can only imagine just how many praises. 


It's not jealousy, it never was and at times he fails to comprehend how differences were able to make their way through the similarities--an inability to fully understand what was common knowledge to them. You don't openly date, you are not to be seen, you don't raise suspicion --and somehow it still grates him to never have been able to understand where they stood and what joined them despite all the negatives swirling around them.


It's been a year and it all replays vividly--from foggy windows while in their cars to the usual 'your place or mine?' and at times Seoho curses his luck. Silly thing that loves to corner him in between a voice he can't get out of his mind and the sensation of his name caressing his lips. 


The night probably is judging him again, the stars whispering among them just how he is lacking when it comes to these matters--or how he is stupid for still letting Geonhak's singing affect him so much. Longing carefully crafted into a melody still resonating and inescapably taking him back. And he lets out a bitter laugh, "It's not like it was love anyway" 


Seoho attempts to convince himself it wasn't, and that it all just circles back to that grudge--that one in which one day Geonhak just decided to follow the rules and cut any bond he ever had with Seoho, "It wasn't love" 


"Was it to you?" 


Seoho turns in unison, pupils dilating and taking in Geonhak's figure--allowing for his voice to get into his veins and render him unable of coherent thinking. Soon replaced by stubbornness ready to launch an attack, but, it's not like they were anything . And Seoho tries to induce calm into his being by remembering that. 


"I don't know what you call a couple of months of seeing each other" Seoho shrugs, discomfort downpouring--resentment manifesting in the feelings that wash over him,  "neither what sleeping together defines us as"




"A good fuck? Perhaps we were that to each other" a scoff and a weak laugh come together at the time, "Though don't think that it takes only that to fall"


Geonhak steps into Seoho's orbit easily, even when Seoho takes some steps back in response. It's really similar to when they met, only that playfulness has changed its initial place with grudges that mix with the longing Seoho knows he feels but won't accept as truth, "Yet here you are, speaking of love"


"Do you even know if you loved me at all?"


"Guess," and Geonhak's fingers find themselves holding Seoho's chin up, making the distance separating them diminish, "You can look for your answer" and Seoho looks into Geonhak's eyes--they remind him of the moments he thought they shared something between them. But it's not enough to give Geonhak full credibility. 


Seoho allows for impulsiveness to do the choice for him, closing the gap by pressing his lips against Geonhak's--only for Geonhak to answer with urgency, with teeth digging on Seoho's lower lip, with fingers raking through Seoho's hair in haste and with his other hand pressing Seoho  against his frame. 


It's desperate unlike their first kiss, it still has the sky serving as witness and keeping the secret to itself--just how they naturally fall into one another, just how it hears the little whimpers escaping Seoho's throat. 


A caress trails Seoho's neck and he sees Geonhak looking at him through half lidded eyes, hushed words touching his visage, "Tour changed you a bit if this is how you look for answers, hyung"


"Not like I have found them" Seoho says, but he isn't sure if his voice can cover the sound of the hammering his heart is doing. Or if he can block from his mind the way Geonhak's smile does that thing to him, where he can't prevent himself from getting lost in the sight like he has in many other far more personal ones. 


"There is always more than what meets the eye you know?"


"Is that your excuse?"


Geonhak clears his throat and nods in reply, "Read between the lyrics, you can actually maybe find something" he draws his thumb across his lower lip as his gaze fixed on Seoho, "like that night, huh?"


Seoho doesn't notice when Geonhak turns on his heels, mentioning under his breath that he has a presentation to finish before his back seems to be further away from Seoho, "It's actual longing you know?" Geonhak says, loud enough for Seoho to hear but effectively getting drowned with the other sounds that come from inside the establishment. 


It takes Seoho a while to react once Geonhak is gone, only focusing for some time in the lyrics regarding a sad ending, a break up if it even can be called that--focusing on yearning for the words to reach the other person. And Seoho isn't certain if he does this because Geonhak rekindled whatever it was that they once experienced, or if it's because he longs for an answer that still lingers in the air and was only numbed briefly with a craving he needed to satisfy. 


But he finds himself writing the usual text, maybe he still has far too much to say and plenty to hear. Yet, it's his place tonight--and perhaps that way he can figure out if it was love for real.