"Sittin' in a parked car,
We don't even fight no more,
We don't even touch no more,"

The familiar words threaded through Soobin's ears like a worn melody, but something about the words pulled at his heartstrings this time, unlike any other. He looked across at the gorgeous woman standing across from him, smiling at him sadly as she sang, eyes meeting his knowingly for a brief moment before darting away.
She saw.
She knew.

In some way, this was supposed to be one of the best days of Soobin's life, if not the best. After so many years of waiting and hoping, he finally got to meet his idol. Heck, it wasn't even just the meeting that made it special, but the performance. He was supposed to be performing a duet with Bebe Rexha, the amazing artist he'd been gushing about for years. Her music threaded through his mind easily, and he could have sworn that every word had been engraved in his mind, after years and years of listening, like a lullaby. Heck, he couldn't even put into words how much her music meant to him. The way her songs put feelings he didn't even know into words so succinctly, so perfectly.

But he couldn't help the gnawing feeling that something was missing.
Or was it someone?

Instinctively, his eyes darted to the crowd, poring over every face he could in search of finding that one face. One heart.

Nothing. Sighing slightly, he tightened his grip on the microphone before he began to sing,

"Used to be my best friend, we don't even laugh no more.
Barely even talk no more."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd talked to him properly, not since their last fight. If you could even call it that. The familiar face flashed before his eyes, so vivid he could have sworn the image of him was emblazoned onto his eyelids. Pink, pouty lips, that were forever curved into a half grin, when he was around the members. But the smile he saw, the one he loved the most, were the small smiles he gave when they were alone. Smiles that felt like they were reserved for him, reserved for them. His heart ached at the thought of that, at the brutal idea of the word 'us.'

------
Moonlight shifted through the worn plastic windowpanes. It was dark, almost impossible to see. I shouldn't be awake, Soobin thought. He should have been asleep hours ago, especially with all the training. And indeed, his body was protesting. His muscles were sore, almost numb after all that training, his bones almost turning into lead. But no matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn't seem to sleep. His brain continues stubbornly running, no matter how much he tried to shut it down. It was frustratingly hellish.

But his heart- his heart was worse. His mind kept replaying that moment, over and over again. He could see his hyung beneath him, his fingers hovering above his face, looking up at him through slightly lidded eyes. Soobin could have sworn his heart stuttered for a while, especially when Yeonjun looked at him like that. Then he was pouting, his eyes wide open when it was Soobin's turn to speak. "They're not wrong, hyung. You're a special friend."

"Just a friend?" Yeonjun whispered. There was a glimpse of something in the older boy's eyes, something that ran deep, and Soobin couldn't help but shiver slightly at the intensity of his gaze.

He stared at him desperately, not quite sure how to answer. Not with his heart racing, not with the heat rising to his cheeks. But the corners of Yeonjun's lips simply curved up, warm fingers threading through his, squeezing it tightly.

Then he remembered.
Right. We're filming something. But the next part of the script...the next part of the script was almost kissing.
Well, not exactly.

It was in the original script, but in this one, all they needed to do was press their heads together, make it look like they were kissing. Taking a deep breath, Soobin leaned down, his head tilting towards Yeonjun's. He could feel his heart thumping furiously in his chest, anxiety like butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Then he felt soft lips on his cheek, and he melted against the older boy, half wishing he could pull him closer.

But before he could move, the unmistakable yell of "CUT!" Rang through the room, and Yeonjun pulled out of his grasp.

It wasn't until later, where he realised that he'd messed up a line.

--------
"You wanna hold my hand and then you won't," You draw close and pull away whenever one of the members is close. Absent-mindedly, he began tapping against his thighs, the feel of phantom hands chasing the edge of his mind.

Quietly, he imagined the older boy beside him, rubbing circles in his hand the way he always did when he got anxious.

"You say you love me then you don't, You keep me runnin' and runnin' around."

Soobin let out a half-hearted smile as he sang that, his heart twinging and twisting. He knew the older boy loved him, he just couldn't tell how.

"What are we?" He'd asked once.
Yeonjun simply sat across him, gazing up at the stars. The smell of freshly cut grass and flowers filled his senses, and he could feel his heart swelling with every passing second, growing bigger and bigger. The older boy had his fingers tangled through his own, and held onto them tightly. Half of Soobin wished he could hold onto it forever.

If only forever lasted.

"I don't know," the older boy whispered, squeezing his hand gently, the way he always did when they were alone. Somehow, for all the ways in which Yeonjun was bold, he was gentle when he cared. Yeonjun hated that it was the only answer to give, but it was true. "What are we?"

The question hung between them in barbed silence. What were you supposed to say, after all? With someone you'd known for so long it felt like forever, with someone you knew that you didn't know everything about, and yet they felt as familiar to you as your own face, you own thoughts. When you couldn't imagine a life without them, no matter how hard you tried. When loving them felt like it was pulling at you sometimes, pulling at your heart slowly, but surely. When loving them felt like burning, like boiling. It made him lose a part of himself, in some way, but his fears dissipated whenever he drew close, at the same time he unsettled him, like bubbles floating to the surface. The way his presence soothed him, keeping him warm, the same way a fire did. But if he ever got too close...

"Whatever you want us to be," came the reply. The older boy simply huffed softly, pulling Soobin closer. Until he was almost sitting in his lap, their faces barely inches apart. Pressing his forehead against his, Yeonjun let out a whisper, soft enough that Soobin almost didn't hear it.

"Whatever it is, Soobin-ah. Stay with me."
------

And so he did.
Until it hurts too much to breathe. When the older boy pulled apart, when he retreated away. Soobin didn't need him there with him all the time, but hell if he didn't want it. But conversations turned into calls, and calls turned into texts, that went from thousands a day to hundreds, hundreds a day to tens, and tens to almost none at all.

Whatever he needed, he got one of the members to help him tell Yeonjun, or left small notes under his door.
He rarely got a reply.
Despite their right schedule, Yeonjun was somehow adept at making himself scarce when he really wanted to, even though they still teased and talked to one another on screen or on stage.

There was just...none of what they had earlier.

But every so often he'd catch the older boy staring at him, glancing at him with those eyes. With that light in his eyes that made Soobin feel like he was the only one in the room. That let the small ember of hope in his heart flicker to life, before being brutally squashed when the other boy ripped his gaze away.

And if fucking hurt.

"If I'm not all you need, then just set me free, I'm down on my knees."

The words came out like a half-whispered plea, the edges of them searing his heart, even as he continued singing. Please, hyung. Don't do this to me. He loved and hated that hope, that stubborn ember that remained in his heart, no matter how many times he tried squashing it away, no matter how badly he tried to hide it. But when he looked over at him...it was like he saw him, once again, and nothing else mattered.

At least for that second.

Then reality came crashing down, and the older boy simply let out a small, wistful smile before turning away. Ignoring every whisper of "please" in Soobin's eyes, even if there were cameras on them. What are you doing, hyung? Why are you doing this? Soobin's voice came out like a fractured glass pane, threading delicately over the lines of broken glass, waiting for something to press before it broke.

"If you're not the one for me, then just let me be," spare me, Yeonjun hyung. What are we?
"I'm begging you, please."

Don't do this to me. I don't know how much longer I can hold on to this, hyung. Hold onto you, before I break. He hated it, feeling this needy. He hated the feeling of pulling away before pulling close, the yearning he had, behind closed doors. The desire he had to pull him close, kiss whatever the hell it was away, to talk to him, for once, instead of running away.

And the ironic wish that he could run away with him, instead of running away from him. He chuckled softly at that, letting a small smile cross over his face as he waved towards the crowd, smiling at the faces grinning at him, their eyes wrapping him in a warm hug. The next line wasn't his, after all.

"I'm praying for closed doors and open windows,"

Gods above if anyone knew what happened behind closed doors, when no one was watching. What had happened, once, but now Soobin wasn't quite sure if anything they were, if anything they'd done would ever happen again. He imagined phantom hands of his, resting lightly over his heart, pulling him close, and he faltered for a moment. Sighing, he held the mic closer to his mouth, and started singing again.

"I'll follow where the wind blows, don't be scared to leave,"

Wherever Yeonjun went, Soobin would never be too far behind. But the distance between them had never felt so far, so odd. There was something about being less than six feet away from someone, yet you knew your hearts were miles away, standing inches apart.

Am I allowed to want this, hyung? Am I allowed to want you?

"If I'm not all you need, then just set me free," Once again, his voice wavered on an uncertain 'please', his heart crumbling at the thought of a reply, as much as he craved one.

"I'm down on my knees,"
"Tonight."

-----
A

/N: heyo! So this is the first part of my Yeonbin fanfiction- based on the song Knees by Bebe Rexha, as you can tell- (yes, it's another songfic, because I love them too much-) I've had this in my drafts for a while, and was going between publishing this part, or waiting to finish it before I publish...not sure how this is, but thank you guys so much for reading, and I hope you'll enjoy this!