Chapter Text
Jun’s head felt like it had been used as a kick drum, a sensation which was only worsened by Nano’s theatrical reenactment of the previous night.
“And he looked deep into Dylan’s soul,” Nano announced, his voice carrying across the room, “or what he assumes is a soul, and said, ‘Enemies to lovers. Obviously.’”
At the table, Jun groaned into his hands. The sound was muffled by his palms. “I’m going to strangle you with your own hoodie. I said no such thing.”
Thame dropped two slices of bread into the toaster, chuckling at the suffering of his best friend. “You absolutely did. Word for word. It was very specific.”
“See!” Nano pointed a finger in Jun’s direction before swivelling to aim it at the other half of said trope. “And then he said the chemistry was ‘toxic but compelling’! He’s in love with your toxicity, Dylan!”
Dylan didn’t even react, just kept eating his bowl of cereal. His attention was completely locked onto the task of eating. He wasn’t going to feed into this narrative.
Nano, clearly not reading the room, continued. “And Dylan? He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink, just absorbed it. Then Jun kept going. He gave the whole plot. The falling for him when he’s mean, Dylan being the one who stays. Oh my god, it was perfect.”
Jun snatched a cushion from beside him and hurled it at Nano, who caught it with a shriek. “It was a game. You’re reading into a drunk joke because you’re bored.”
“I don’t think I am actually,” Nano smirked. He was so sure he knew some big secret that was being hidden from him.
Suddenly, Dylan stood up. He left his half-finished bowl where it was and walked towards the doorway without a word or a glance at any of them.
“You hear that silence?” Nano called after Dylan’s retreating back. “That’s stage-one denial!”
Pepper shot Nano a warning look, worried about where his delusional thoughts would lead them all this time. “Or maybe he just doesn’t care, Nano. Leave it.”
~
Jun had been staring at the crack in his ceiling for an hour now, but his thoughts kept going back to Nano’s reenactment in the kitchen.
The house was silent at this hour, a different kind of quiet than what he was used to. It was their quiet; Jun and Dylan’s. Separately, of course. The other members kept to daylight hours, their rhythms synced to a sun that Thame and Pepper actually saw rise. But the late nights belong to him and the rapper.
Jun’s nightly routine was simple. A walk to the kitchen for a glass of water at 2am. The excuse was flimsy, the real purpose being that the path to the kitchen also led right past a certain door. He needed to see if the light was on, proof that someone else was awake with him.
Sometimes he would even cough or shuffle his feet, hoping for a reaction, maybe a pause in typing from the other side of the door. He wasn’t really sure why he did it; he knew any interaction with Dylan, especially at that time of night, wouldn’t end well for him.
Jun began his route, taking his familiar path. His gaze travelled down the hallway to the door at the end. It was usually closed, with a thin bar of warm light at the bottom. But tonight, the door stood open. He took a few steps closer and then entered.
The room was empty. The bed was made. No laptop on the desk, no discarded hoodie on the back of the chair. He stood there for a moment, staring into the dark space.
“Weirdo,” he muttered to the empty room. “Probably fell asleep in the studio composing a diss track about me.”
There was no one to hear it. Knowing that Dylan wasn’t in the house, wasn’t awake with him at 2am like normal, made cold settle deep in his chest. They never spoke during these hours; Dylan likely had no idea Jun was even awake. But the simple knowledge of his presence just one room away made Jun feel comforted and anchored. Now, that anchor was gone. And without him, the house felt large and scary at night, and for the first time, Jun felt alone in it.