Work Text:
When you fall asleep
Before the end of the day
You start to worry
Seonghwa doesn’t think he’s slept as much in the last 10 years as he has in the last two months. He’s worried his body will lose its acquired immunity to fainting from lack of sleep, acquired after years of only getting 3 hours of sleep.
Hongjoong had taken to working at the kitchen table and usually falling asleep there. Hongjoong barely made it to their bed, at least not during the hours in which Seonghwa also occupied it. He would usually come in around 10 am, after Seonghwa had woken up, take an hour nap and then be straight back to work. Seonghwa sighed, grabbing for his phone to check if any news of a schedule had come in. Besides their individual YouTube assignments, they were almost painfully free.
Seonghwa laughed at how much he had yearned for something like this back in his trainee days. Two months, no obligations, no reason to leave the house? Specific prohibition of leaving the house? And yet, he was unsettled.
Hongjoong was working more than ever. He was composing like his life depended on it. Seonghwa suspected he wanted to keep himself distracted. What from, Seonghwa wasn’t sure. The consequence of his work was that Hongjoong was spending less time with Seonghwa. No car journeys to broadcast stations, no homoerotic photoshoots (oh, the irony, Seonghwa laments), and no goofing around at fansigns.
No hushed conversations in the early hours of the morning, tangled together with their bodies and minds. No gentle kisses in music show dressing room bathrooms, away from prying cameras. No hugs on stage, accompanied by piercing screams.
Seonghwa was stuck in close quarters, with 7 other people, but he was alone.
Like when the taxi comes
To take you away
When you're in no hurry
They never had any time to really see a place. It was always airport, hotel, random magazine, stadium, hotel, airport. In Madrid, at least, they’d been to a couple of restaurants and were able to wander around a little, but that was quickly shut down once their location got out and they were once again confined.
Now they were confined again. Seonghwa had organized every drawer, cleaned every window, and washed every dish. He felt like he was becoming acquainted with their dorm all over again. After years of using it simply as a place to crash after horrifically long days in the practice room, at the gym, or at the salon, it never really felt like their space.
Now, he saw the others making it their own. Yeosang and Jongho belted out OSTs as they took baths together; San and Wooyoung had tried to make bread on four separate occasions, always getting distracted and covered in flour; Mingi and Yunho had watched the entirety of Kingdom twice, Mingi always ending up hidden behind Yunho during the jumpy moments.
Seonghwa sometimes daydreamed as he cleaned, imagining Hongjoong and himself making Gundam figures together, or himself helping Hongjoong with a song. Hongjoong making him a cup of tea as they watch a movie with the group’s kiddos.
Yet as our hair turns white
All the stars still shine so bright, above
At least
It's not the end of the world
They had, a couple of times, all gone to the balcony and looked out at the skyline. They were especially never in the dorm at night, given the demands of practicing, concerts or TV shows that often ended filming far too late to accommodate some stargazing.
Now they gathered under blankets and clutching coffees (two months of lockdown wasn’t going to undo ten years of caffeine addiction), everyone but Hongjoong. Seonghwa sighed as the others snuggled up. Jongho was running his finger across Yeosang’s birthmark, laughing as Mingi tried to lick Yunho’s cheek. San had taken to giving fake names to the few constellations visible through Seoul’s abhorrent air pollution, making up backstories to make Wooyoung giggle.
Glancing back to the kitchen, Seonghwa could make out Hongjoong’s face illuminated by his laptop. His tongue was cutely sticking out from between his lips as he tapped out a rhythm on the table. A sigh escaped Seonghwa’s lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yeosang, who pulled Seonghwa into his other side, and maneuvered Jongho’s arm so that it was around them both.
The added warmth went some way to quelling the fire of sadness in Seonghwa’s heart. The new position meant he couldn’t look back at Hongjoong, and he realized the others were sending a message for him to leave it, Hongjoong had other (more important) things to worry about than snuggling Seonghwa under the stars.
We could live it large
Because we're only old once
Let's make a difference
Beyond practicing some, and creating their new YouTube content, they were mostly still. Grabbing at the slippery moments of relaxation as much as they could, before the world cranks up again and they’re in demand 24/7.
Seonghwa had taken to learning how to write Hanja, a skill he never really had the time to try out in high school. Trainee life ate away at his schooling like a parasite, leaving him sadly ignorant about a lot of the world. He took it upon himself, then, to use this time to try and fix it. He practiced his own name with careful strokes, getting compliments from San when he popped his head in the door to announce the arrival of the pizza.
Maybe Hongjoong would be impressed. Maybe he’d tell Seonghwa how skilled he was; how brave it is that he’s trying a new thing, trying to improve himself.
Hongjoong did take some breaks, but he didn’t really spend them with Seonghwa. He had shower breaks, gym breaks, and selfie-taking, Twitter-posting breaks, which weren’t really breaks. Every time he heard the footsteps nearing his and Hongjoong’s room his chest bubbled with hope that Hongjoong would throw open the door and gather Seonghwa into his arms. They’d watch a movie, or baby videos on YouTube, or just idly chat.
But the footsteps always continued on to the kitchen. Seonghwa sighed once more.
Turn all the hate in the world
Into a mockingbird
Make it fly away
Hongjoong sometimes possessed an almost naive conception of the things that they could do, as whatever it is that they are. Writing songs can change lives, he had said, eyes shining with pride and determination.
Seonghwa watched Hongjoong pace around the living room, testing out rhymes and rhythms and making notes on his iPad. He would sometimes stop, in his own world, then crack into a smile and carry on. It was devastatingly cute, and Seonghwa thought about how many banks he’d rob to get to know what Hongjoong was thinking about.
Sometimes he would try to get Hongjoong’s attention, calling his name or offering him a chip from his bowl. Hongjoong would just shake his head, giggling lightly, and resume his musings.
Next to him on the sofa, Mingi’s head was in Yunho’s lap as the older played Animal Crossing and Mingi tried to do a crossword puzzle. Seonghwa noticed, having given up on watching Hongjoong, that Yunho had paused the game and was just looking at Mingi’s confused face as he tried to complete the puzzle. At one point, Mingi paused, looking up and realizing Yunho hadn’t been playing. In response, he put down his phone and sat up, climbing into Yunho’s lap to give him a kiss, Yunho’s arms coming around his lithe waist.
Hongjoong’s footsteps stopped and Seonghwa took note of him, taking note of the couple beside Seonghwa on the couch. His absent-minded smile was still there, but this time his eyes were less vacant, more aware. Seonghwa tried to grab his attention by moving his head, but Hongjoong was wrapped up in watching the pair. After a minute and a small whimper from Mingi, Seonghwa coughed. The couple sprang apart, apologizing to their hyungs and running to their room. Hongjoong made eye contact with Seonghwa for the first time that day, giving him a warm smile.
Seonghwa was alarmed at how potently sad it made him.
Yet as our hair turns grey
Everything is far from a-a-a-ok
The weight of what others were going through was a heavy one on Seonghwa’s shoulders. Being the older, being the one seen as in charge, he felt like he had an obligation to continue as if everything was fine and they were just waiting it out. But as cases grow again in Korea, he sees the lines form around Hongjoong’s eyes and the redness on his nose.
Seonghwa is suddenly hit with how this could be affecting Hongjoong. He had been so touch-starved and angsty he hadn’t thought about Hongjoong’s inner struggles with this situation. Sat on his bed at 11 pm, he suddenly feels anything but sleepy, alert with concern and shame at his own myopia. All this time he was ragging on Hongjoong for not tending to his needs, while he failed to tend to the other’s also.
Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep without bringing about some sort of change in this situation, Seonghwa rose and walked to the kitchen. He walked past Jongho and Yeosang’s room, overhearing Jongho tickling Yeosang and the accompanying shrieks. Seonghwa was relieved that he didn’t feel the burn of envy that he had when overhearing such antics previously, soothed by the realization he had in fact also been partly to blame, and the faith that he could fix it.
Entering the kitchen, he saw Hongjoong slumped at the table, playing some chords on his MIDI piano.
No time like the present, huh , he thought.
He snaked his arms around Hongjoong’s waist, kneeling down to put his head on the other boy’s shoulder. He felt the tension dissipate from not only himself but Hongjoong too. The younger sighed, rolling his head back so it rested against Seonghwa’s.
Throwing caution to the wind, Seonghwa closed the lid of Hongjoong’s laptop from his position behind him, got up, and gathered Hongjoong into his arms. The leader seemed to have fallen asleep, and Seonghwa said a silent prayer for the narcolepsy gods to let him get a full night’s sleep. Luckily Hongjoong had taken to wearing t-shirts and sweats during the time spent at home, so he was functionally bed-ready. Seonghwa slid him onto the mattress and got in beside him.
Hongjoong reached for the older in his slumber, pulling Seonghwa flush against him, face-to-face. Soeonghwa sighed for the umpteenth time that day, and Hongjoong sleepily pecked his lips in response.
At least it's not the end of the world