그리고 또 (and again)
Title: 그리고 또 (and again)
Pairing: N/Leo
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~4,600
Warning(s): brief mentions of situations of dubious consent with OC
A/N: i wrote this because N clearly doesn't suffer enough ;; cross-posted at AO3
===
“Make a choice.”
Hakyeon stares down at the crown of Taekwoon’s head. There is a small white patch, not quite a bald spot but not a parting either. It looks like a tiny fairy ring, smack dab in the middle of Taekwoon’s forest of hair.
Taekwoon leans back, fairy ring hitting the plaster walls behind them. Above his head, there is a flyer for Sung Shi Kyung sunbae’s latest single. Next to that, an ad for the new fried chicken pizza. Buy one order, get one free! It’s a good deal-- Hakyeon had just eaten there last week, too tired to count the calories as he shoved slice after slice of thick, greasy pizza down his throat. And as if by some ironic twist of fate, the new Sung Shi Kyung single had been crooning in the background. The air con starts up, slowly building into a deafening hum. Taekwoon’s lips twitch, and Hakyeon closes his eyes, forcing out the words one more time.
“Make a choice. Do you want a leader or a friend?”
===
It starts in the humid hallways of Jellyfish Entertainment. Vocal training is the worst part of the day for Hakyeon. Dance is easy; dance is what he was chosen for. Step, jump, turn. It’s all a repetition of the same basic moves, and Hakyeon twists it to his own rhythm. Talent, the scouts had called it. Easy, Hakyeon thinks. Dance is easy.
Vocal training is hard. It requires something he doesn’t have. His vocal chords strain for notes he can’t hear, and there’s a rhythm he can’t follow. Hakyeon thinks it’s stupid that there’s four hours of vocal training a day but only two hours of dance.
“At least you can hit the notes.” Hongbin is young, polite, and good-looking. Unless he’s around Hakyeon. Around Hakyeon, Hongbin is just another high school brat with big dreams and a weary body.
“Anyone can hit the right note.” Hakyeon twists the water bottle in his hands. “Go to a noraebang.”
“Thanks, hyung. I feel so much better.” Hongbin’s disgruntled, partly at Hakyeon, mostly at himself. Only a few months as a trainee and he’s already dejected. Hakyeon laughs. Hongbin gives him an alarmed look, but Hakyeon still laughs because the kid doesn’t get it. As untrained as he might be, Hongbin has something Hakyeon doesn’t. And that’s all he needs to debut.
Another trainee leaves the practice room, and for a few seconds, a voice singing to a Sisqo song floats out. Hakyeon cranes his neck, trying to see inside before the door slams shut. The voice is soft, airy and thin; it’s unique and beautiful and exactly what Hakyeon thinks Jellyfish would choose.
“This rehearsal is going to suck.”
Hakyeon nods heavily. The assigned piece is in English and the tempo is slow, making any slur of the syllables hard to hide. All those English classes and hours in hagwons boiled down to nothing when it actually mattered.
The door opens again, no music this time, and a new face walks out. He’s tall, eyes narrow and shoulders wide, and when he brushes past them, Hakyeon can smell grass and mud. Exhaling deeply, he watches the guy turn down the hall. Turning back to his sheet music, Hakyeon bites his lip. The guy doesn’t look like his voice.
“I hate vocal training,” Hongbin mutters. Hakyeon wholeheartedly agrees.
===
His name is Jung Taekwoon. It’s the third group vocal training session and the instructor introduces him as Taekwoon. Hakyeon thinks the name suits his character-- the first syllable is harsh and concise, much like him.
“Singer,” he said when Hakyeon asked about his dreams. Well that was obvious. Wasn’t that why they were all here? But Hakyeon thinks that Taekwoon just might have a chance. He has a unique voice and a distinctive face. With a little attention, both of those could easily make him a star. It’s unfair.
“You have a good voice.”
Taekwoon gives a nonchalant shrug and hunches further over the sheet music. His hair falls slightly over his eyes, eyes that are piercing yet uninterested. Taekwoon’s entire being reeks of tsundere idol material. Hakyeon can already hear the fangirls’ screams, can already see the stage lights.
It’s unfair.
===
Jump to one month before MyDol filming starts. Hakyeon and Taekwoon are sitting at a park, thousand won ddeokbokki and Chilsung soda balanced delicately on their laps. It's a decent day out with enough sun between the trees to balance the lingering bite of winter. For once, Taekwoon doesn't have any headphones on, his gaze intently focused on a group of dogs across the park.
"I can't believe we'll be on TV." Hakyeon fiddles with his food, digging his fork into the paper plate. "My mom's going to freak out when she hears about this."
There's a soft hum, and Taekwoon shoves another forkful of ddeok into his mouth. A dog stops next to them. Hakyeon hasn't seen Taekwoon's face light up like that since that day the CEO's kid stopped by the company.
"We're going to be famous pretty soon," he tries again when the dog leaves. "Supposedly, there'll be like ten of us."
Supposedly, they won't be able to walk around in public anymore; supposedly, they'll miss the eyes that look through them. Hakyeon jiggles his leg. Supposedly, Taekwoon will start talking more.
“So many kids,” Hakyeon laughs lightly. “You know that means someone’s going to go home.”
The ddeokbokki burns Hakyeon's tongue, carving a path down his throat and settling nervously in his stomach. Supposedly, they won't be able to eat street food like this in a while. As he hastily stuffs the last bit into his mouth, Taekwoon gets up. Hakyeon thinks their conversation ends just like that, if he can even call it a conversation, and follows Taekwoon silently through the park, down the street, into the subway. They're waiting for the dorm elevator when Taekwoon sighs.
“I just want to sing.”
The doors open and they're treated to the sight of hunched shoulders and dark eye bags in the elevator mirrors. Hakyeon presses the button for their floor, and for once he doesn't have any words to fill the silence. If only he was as witty as Jaehwan, or maybe as endearing as Wonshik. Then would I have a chance?
It’s ten p.m. and Taekwoon steps into the kitchen for a glass of water when Hakyeon finally decides to go with, “You deserve to sing.” Taekwoon doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move for another minute before he walks back to the bedroom, fingers barely brushing across Hakyeon’s shoulder as he passes.
It’s a simple dream. They all deserve that much.
===
It had taken four months for Taekwoon to open up to him. Even then, Hakyeon wasn’t sure if Taekwoon spoke to him out of friendship or necessity. In this industry, maybe a bit of both.
Hakyeon spoke most of the time, nonsense filling the distance between them as Taekwoon threw him an occasional glance. Flashback to five months before MyDol filming and they’re sprawled on the practice room floor. Hakyeon anxiously twists the rings on his fingers.
“The line-up.” Taekwoon has advanced to uttering two words now. It’s a goddamn miracle.
“Looks like that one kid from Busan got kicked out last week. He had great potential but I overheard the director say it’s because his past is too shady. Maybe he was in a gang or something, like in that one movie where the guys would cut off your finger if you lied or--”
The words sound stupid, even to Hakyeon. They all know why the kid left-- he wasn’t good enough. Taekwoon puts on his headphones. Hakyeon adjusted his rings, slipping a few onto different digits. It’s a goddamn miracle.
===
It was a humid summer afternoon, and Hakyeon only remembers it being so because it was hot, sweat dripping down their necks and faces, and Taekwoon had taken his shirt off. They might’ve been playing basketball, or soccer, but Hakyeon only remembered the hitch in his breath and the clench in his stomach as he watched his best friend strip naked.
He only remembered the twisted smiles, the lingering touches and soft voices that filled his head. He only remembered every single moment Jung Taekwoon turned his life upside down and rightside up.
Taekwoon shook off the sweat on his bangs. “Hot.”
Hakyeon guiltily agreed.
===
Flash forward to a dressing room, the make-up table surprisingly uncluttered for once. Armed with only foundation and lip balm, Hakyeon feels uncertain when the coordi noona sends him away.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” She motions for Jaehwan to take the seat, rolling her eyes when she gets a screech in response. “It’s a simple concept this time. First love and all that.”
First love. Hakyeon walks out on set, adjusting his hair as the director motions at them. Taekwoon joins him, their shoulders brushing as they lean in to hear the instructions. And all that. Someone hands him roses, and the camera pans onto his face as he pricks his finger on a thorn.
“Action!”
Smiling, he looks into the lens and winks. First love. If only it were that simple.
===
Flash back to their trainee days, when Hakyeon learns that words aren’t Taekwoon’s forte, but he can paint the world with his voice. Back to when Hakyeon learns Taekwoon’s language, and suddenly grunts are full sentences (“I’m hungry,” “Let’s practice some more,” “Did you get some sleep?” “You can lean on my shoulder but only for a minute.”) Suddenly, eyerolls are signs of fondness and deep breaths are moments of fear.
Jump to four months of this language, when Taekwoon runs fingers down his arm in the car, or rubs circles into his wrists after practice, or stares at him from across the table at lunch. Suddenly Hakyeon wonders if maybe he’s been wrong the whole time, if he’s been reading the wrong manual for understanding Jung Taekwoon. But then sometimes, in between hidden smiles and shared earbuds, Hakyeon hopes he might have gotten it right.
===
Hakyeon remembers his sister’s first date. It was the summer of ninth grade and he‘s sitting on her bed, clothes surrounding him and perfume filling his head. Nervous giggles, poking at nonexistent pimples and smoothing down hair-- it was fascinating to see his calm sister reduced to such a jittery mess.
“I really like him.” She spreads another layer of gloss on her lips-- glancing briefly at Hakyeon before tossing him some chapstick-- and adjusts her skirt for the tenth time. “I just want this to work.”
It had apparently worked because three years later, they were married. Hakyeon remembers his sister’s first date because that-- the breathless laughter and uncertain future and layers of chapstick-- is exactly how he feels every time he sees Taekwoon.
===
Flashback to mid-way through MyDol filming. They’re sitting in the back of a small shop in Gangnam, shoveling jjajangmyeon and dumplings down their throats. It’s the best thing they’ve eaten in weeks and tastes all the more amazing because they know it’ll be a rare treat from now on. It was easily the best day in months, not only because the noodles were perfect but because Taekwoon had been the one to invite Hakyeon. He rarely initiated anything, so of course Hakyeon would ditch everything and say yes. Of course he’d do that in a heartbeat.
“Thanks.” Taekwoon’s staring down at his empty bowl.
“Are you asking me to pay?” Hakyeon jokes. “And here I thought you’d finally treat me for a change.”
Taekwoon shakes his head. “For being there for me.”
Hakyeon’s taken back to his sister’s wedding, watching as she stands teary-eyed at the altar. He’s taken back to the reception, when she grabs his hands and tugs him onto the dance floor. They’re slowly swaying back and forth, her smile putting the lights to shame, and his heart swells. “When you find the one, don’t let go.” Her gaze drifts over his shoulder, something he can only describe as pure love shining in her eyes. She squeezes his shoulder before moving away, hand stretched for her husband, the lingering whisper of, “Don’t let go, Hakyeon-ah.”
Taekwoon’s fingers drum the table, and he finally looks up. “Really. Thanks.”
Hakyeon gives a nervous laugh. “You know I’ll always have your back.”
Taekwoon smiles, and Hakyeon knows he’s stuck for good. What do I do now, noona?
“Lifelong friends.” And Taekwoon picks up the check. (Flash forward to the future, any time in the future, when those words are the only evidence that Hakyeon ever had a chance.)
“Yeah.” Hakyeon’s stuck, whether he wants to be or not.
===
Jump to hours after the final line-up is determined, minutes after the cameras shut off, seconds after the CEO leaves. Jump to Jaehwan clutching his hand, Wonshik crying to his sister on the phone, Sanghyuk and Hongbin grinning at each other. Jump to Taekwoon two steps away from him.
Hakyeon watches him; the shaking fingertips, the way his eyes clench shut as hiccups escape between stuttered breaths-- Taekwoon’s happy. And then jump to Taekwoon flinching, turning, jerking away from him when Hakyeon touches his shoulder. His eyes shift away, lips pressed into an impossibly tight line across his blank face-- Hakyeon doesn’t understand.
(“Make a choice.”
“I choose…”)
Jaehwan’s still screaming in his ear, but Hakyeon can’t hear a word he’s saying. Hongbin’s lips are moving, Wonshik beaming by his side, and then suddenly--
“Leader.” It’s loud and clear, right from Jung Taekwoon’s own lips.
Hakyeon bitterly laughs, letting the tears fall.
===
Flash forward to 2014 and they’re standing on the set of a photoshoot. Elle, Vogue, something big.
“Would you do it again?”
In the background, Sanghyuk is pestering Wonshik again, Hongbin watching proudly from the side. Jaehwan is eyeing the buffet spread, giving it a longing glance before he joins in with Sanghyuk’s antics.
The camera light is hot, his skin feels like it’s either sparkling or burning. Maybe both. It must look beautiful. The one fan in the building is tilted away, and his cashmere sweater is starting to stick. He hopes the interviewer won’t notice. Then again, they notice everything. Next to their manager, Taekwoon is staring at the camera. Hakyeon can see his eyes follow Hakyeon’s every move on the small screen. He’s watching N.
“N-shi? Would you do VIXX all over again?”
Hakyeon looks beyond the camera, daring Taekwoon to look up. “I don’t know.”
===
They’re backstage at the 2013 Seoul Music Awards. Five minutes before stage, and Hakyeon peeks out into the audience to see a few VIXX signs at the far right of the crowd. Better than none. They can do this.
“My mic.”
Sanghyuk’s voice lifts above the noise, a few murmurs crowding around them. “No, my mic isn’t working! I need the mic--”
Two minutes before stage and there’s shuffling, voices getting louder, higher. Hakyeon quickly makes his way to Sanghyuk. Grabbing his mic pack, he flicks a few buttons. Sanghyuk’s youth is evident in the trembling of his fingers, the quick drop of his shoulders when Hakyeon takes over.
“Watching all those techs backstage finally paid off,” Hakyeon grins when the mic crackles back to life. Sanghyuk smiles, wide teeth and relief pouring out of his body. “Thanks, hyung.”
It’s thirty seconds before stage and Hakyeon meets Taekwoon’s gaze. “Leader.” Hakyeon doesn’t know if Taekwoon says it or if it’s in his head. As if on cue, Taekwoon nods at him.
“Fighting fighting!” Sanghyuk is back, leaning on his shoulder as excitement fills his whisper. “Let’s do this, leader-nim.”
Hakyeon looks away from Taekwoon. They have work to do.
===
Jump to five months after debut, when Hongbin wants to chop off his hair, Sanghyuk wants to sleep more, and Wonshik is donning every single piece of jewelry he can find. They’re still running on the high of debut, each of them checking video counts and monitoring every little performance. They’re still optimistic about their future. Hakyeon spends his nights in the laundry room, downvoting the worst comments on their pages.
“Group talk.”
Their manager sets a plate of ddeok on the table. The heavy thud settles uncomfortably in Hakyeon’s stomach, and he watches from the side as five hands reach eagerly for the food. “Since you’ve all debuted, there’re a few rules we need to talk about. One, don’t do something stupid and screw this up. This means no phones--” he pointedly glances at Jaehwan-- “no talking to people you don’t know. You don’t have an opinion and everyone is your best friend. Also, no girls.”
Taekwoon sniffs. Hakyeon wonders if he finds this ironic as he does.
“Two, if you need to have sex, deal with it yourself. Or tell me and I’ll get you some videos or something.”
There’s a cough from Sanghyuk and suddenly four boys are yelling.
“Hyung, come on!”
“You don’t have to say that out loud!”
“This is so embarrassing-- I’m moving to China.”
“What kind of videos are these?”
It’s mildly entertaining to see their faces so flustered. Hakyeon bursts into small giggles, pointedly meeting Taekwoon’s eyes. I dare you.
“Just give us a few, hyung.” Everyone stares at Hakyeon. Jaehwan’s incredulous expression almost makes him laugh again, but Hakyeon bites it back and tries to put on a serious face. He probably looks constipated instead. That’s what Taekwoon had always said anyways. “We can rewatch them if we have to, and maybe you could get us some tissues and lotion while you’re at it--”
“Are you serious, hyung?” Taekwoon stares at him, narrowed eyes echoing Wonshik’s question.
“It’s bound to happen eventually. We’re growing boys, after all. Better to deal with it now than be caught later.” Hakyeon stretches his smile further, as if the pull of skin might overcome the bitterness and pain that burns at him. “As your leader, I think this is the best thing I can do for you all.”
There, Jung Taekwoon. Take that. Taekwoon holds his gaze-- one, two, three, four-- and looks away.
Hakyeon wins.
===
It’s one year after debut and four months after their first win. Hakyeon stumbles in at three in the morning, filth crawling down his skin. He needs burning water and some pain meds, preferably something that will keep him asleep for a few hours, something, anything, to get this dirty, dirty feeling off of him.
“It’s late.”
Someone stands up from the couch, and even in the darkness, Hakyeon can recognize those broad shoulders and gently sloped back.
“Well, that’s how it is.” He kicks off his shoes and trudges down the hall. Taekwoon’s stare burns into his back.
“Where were you?”
Three whole words. Jung Taekwoon has graced him with three words and maybe even some concern laced in his voice. How exciting. “Out. In a meeting.”
“This late?”
“Meetings happen all the time.”
“What were you doing?”
Miracles of miracles, they’re having a full conversation. Would Taekwoon ever cease to amaze him. Hakyeon smirks, leaning heavily against the wall. Taekwoon’s eyes roam over him, and Hakyeon’s taken back to two hours ago and he can feel those clammy, disgusting, dirty dirty dirty hands all over him again. Bile crawling up his throat, he runs to the toilet.
“I’m okay.”
Each hurl comes up empty but he can’t get the acrid taste out of his mouth. Whimpering, he steps into the shower. Soap. He needs soap and scalding, hot water.
“Your clothes.”
Hakyeon stands under the water, letting it drench him completely, clothes and all. “I’m okay.”
Taekwoon grips his arm but it’s so cold, Hakyeon flinches back , deeper into the shower. “What happened?”
“I’m okay,” Hakyeon smiles-- begs-- at him. “It’s just leader stuff. You know.”
He can see Taekwoon’s eyes widen, a million questions suddenly available on his lips, but it’s too much and Hakyeon just wants a shower. So he shuts the door. “I’m okay.”
He’s always okay.
===
Flash forward to the second time Hakyeon sees Taekwoon crying. The first had been when they were all watching a documentary about elephant poaching. Jaehwan had laughed at the tears, face wet himself, and for once, Sanghyuk had been wise enough to stay quiet. Hakyeon remembers those tears because they were so silent, barely evident on that stone face. They fell so beautifully.
They weren’t full and heavy and ugly like the ones Taekwoon shed in the video. Of course Taekwoon would cry when Hakyeon wasn’t there. Of course he’d bawl on national television, in front of his dongsaengs, away from him.
“Let’s keep working hard in the future,” Taekwoon musters, and that’s it. Hakyeon clutches his phone, the video slowly turning blurry as something terribly wet and painful drips from his own eyes.
Don’t cry. Hakyeon presses his eyes shut, clenching back a horrible cry as he shakes and shakes. Don’t cry for me now.
For the second time in his life, Hakyeon sees Taekwoon crying. And the tears are just for him.
===
The beginning of 2017 looks good for VIXX. They’re kicking off a second world tour, two guaranteed winning comebacks already recorded and filmed-- there are CF offers, musicals, talk shows, acting gigs.
The beginning of 2017 looks like hell for Hakyeon when he discovers that there’s no break in his schedule until June and he has a meeting next week with that PD. He’s a bit touchy, to say the least, but Hakyeon’s heard of worst cases so he sucks it up and reminds himself to buy more cologne. VIXX needs a spot on that new talk show everyone’s raving about.
A loud crack echoes next to his ear. He jumps back, clutching his chest as Sanghyuk and Hongbin cackle.
“Happy New Year, hyung!” Jaehwan’s breath smells slightly of soju and Wonshik stinks of sweat.
“Happy New Year.” Taekwoon hands him a shot. Hakyeon stares down at the liquid in his hand-- his reflection looks back just as blankly. What was that cologne that PD likes again? There’s another loud crack as Jaehwan pops a streamer. He bursts into loud song, Wonshik swiftly joining in off-key. Prada. Hakyeon tilts his head back and lets the liquid burn down his throat. That was the cologne.
===
It’s 2015 and Hakyeon considers sleeping. There's a rope twisted around his neck, pulling him back and forth to recordings to concerts to meals to the dorm. He discovers that it’s difficult to come up for air when the one thing that had kept him breathing won’t give him the time of day. It’s been three years but Hakyeon still hasn’t learned. Maybe he never will.
"It's hard, isn't it?"
Ryeowook is just as he looks: shrewd and too smart for his own good. Nimble fingers jot notes on paper, headphones dangling around his ears as they wait for the commercial break to end. An ad for life insurance hums in the background.
“Of course not.” Hakyeon isn’t sure what Ryeowook’s asking him, but there’s only one question in this industry and the answer is always no. No, he’s not tired. No, he’s not wondering why he tries anymore. No, he’s fine. No no no no-- no, he’ll never learn.
“It’ll run you to death.” Ryeowook’s gaze seems too knowing for comfort. The PD motions at them, last-minute notes thrown in their faces before the radio clock counts down. Hakyeon fiddles with the microphone.
If only he could run himself to death. Maybe then he wouldn’t spend nights sitting in the dark, Wonshik’s deep snores echoing in time to the ticking clock. Maybe the suffocating silence would be filled and each new day wouldn’t feel like a punishment.
“A distraction,” Ryeowook begins. A bottle of soju sits between them, grilled meat untouched as Hakyeon picks at the lettuce. “Sometimes people need a distraction.”
Hakyeon just nods.
“You need a distraction, Cha Hakyeon.” It must have been a long week for Ryeowook. Hakyeon thinks the radio show went well enough, but at the rate Ryeowook’s tossing back shots, maybe not. He should have practiced more. He should have read over the script faster. He should have-- “Stop thinking so much. That’s the problem with you kids-- you overthink things and end up regretting everything in the end.”
You have no idea. Hakyeon pours him another shot.
“I know a PD at SBS who’s looking for new radio DJ.” Ryeowook points at him. “Distraction.”
“I don’t think--”
“Don’t think about it. It’ll be good to do something by yourself for a change.” Ryeowook looks too sober for how empty the bottle is. Hakyeon will have to carry him back to the car later, but for now, he seems like the wiser one. “It’s time to think of yourself, Hakyeon. Because if you don’t, no one will.”
The next day, Ryeowook texts him about how long he threw up and why alcohol is a horrible, wonderful thing. Hakyeon types back smiley faces and pouts and cute characters as last night’s words echo in his mind. Think of himself? Taekwoon steps out of the bedroom, hair wet and shirt loose as he walks to the kitchen. A gruff ‘good morning’ sends Hakyeon’s heart pounding.
I’ll take the radio position. Sending the text, he leans back and closes his eyes. He should sleep.
===
One night in the future, Taekwoon will join him in the living room. Hakyeon’s phone will burn a bright four a.m. in the darkness and the new coffee machine will slowly start the morning. The couch will sink under the weight of another body, and Hakyeon will feel Taekwoon’s warmth barely an inch away. It’ll take him everything not to break the silence.
Do you regret…
===
Jump to a cold Tuesday night in the end of November, a year that he doesn’t remember. The company van sits in traffic, heat blasting and the radio wailing, and there are soft murmurs from the back of the car. It’s ten below zero that night, the radio DJ’s voice too warm and excited for the godforsaken weather. Hakyeon can feel sweat gathering underneath his thick sweater.
"They're talking about a world tour next year." Four voices excitedly shout from the back, their manager trying to contain his laughter as they fling question after question at him. Locations, dates, tracklists, choreography-- a distraction. Ryeowook’s drunken face pops into his mind and Hakyeon manages a soft snort.
“Are you excited?” Jaehwan’s mint breath is in his ear. His hands clutch Hakyeon’s shoulders, shaking him. “We’ll be all around the world!”
Hundreds of miles around the world-- then will he be able to escape? Hakyeon glances behind him to see bright eyes and the barest hint of a smile. Taekwoon nods at him. Turning back around, Hakyeon looks out the window. Probably not.
===
Flash forward to a back injury that plagues half the industry. Flash back to somehow scrounging together enough money to buy his sister a birthday present. Flash forward to birthdays in foreign countries and flash back to birthdays in empty practice rooms. Flash back to a final lineup where he leads four nervous faces and feels one strong hand in his grasp. Flash back to a dark practice room where he rests his head on Taekwoon’s shoulder and it’s the best night of his life because Taekwoon indulges him. Flash back back back to his first steps into Jellyfish Entertainment when all it took were two seconds and a small breath to change his future. And pause at all the moments in between when Hakyeon spins deeper and deeper into this dark hole.
===
Flash forward to the very last day they’re VIXX. Streamers hang from the ceiling, a half-eaten cake on the verge of falling off the table, five sets of suitcases waiting by the door-- something light, almost warm, something like relief, sinks into Hakyeon’s bones as they leave one by one.
“It’s over.” Taekwoon fiddles with his bag, teeth worrying his lip as he glances around the apartment. Hakyeon sees Hongbin’s mug on the countertop, along with Jaehwan’s collection of miniature action figures guarding the sink window. Those will be an excuse for a group dinner next week.
“It’s really over,” Taekwoon repeats. Leave it to Taekwoon to talk first on their last day. Hakyeon grins. You always had such great timing.
Hakyeon settles on the couch, looking around at the bare walls. He’ll be moving out next month, once he buys that plane ticket to Japan. Only Wonshik knows for now, and that’s in case they send out a search party. Then again, Hakyeon’s always been lost and he managed to find his way home just fine.
“It’s never over.” Hakyeon finally meets Taekwoon’s eyes, and it’s still the same. It will always be the same, no matter how many years pass. Like a falling star, Taekwoon was destined to crash into Hakyeon’s world, just as Hakyeon was destined to burn for him. I suppose I’ll always love you. Hakyeon sends him a soft smile, a final wish that can’t come true, and he closes his eyes. There can be no other way.
The door clicks shut, footsteps shuffling further away, and then silence. Hakyeon sleeps.
===
“Make a choice.”
The first breaths of summer creep into the air, the promise of humidity and sweat rising with the sun. They can hear Superhero blaring from inside the practice room, the bass shaking under their feet. Ninety-six hours. Hakyeon stares down at Taekwoon’s bowed head. Ninety-six hours until debut. Until everything changes.
“Make a choice. Do you want a leader or a friend?”
They both know what he’s asking. The words just mask the real question they’ve been dancing around since-- Hakyeon blinks-- since the beginning. He’s cruel to ask this of Taekwoon, but so is this industry, this job, this future-- this life. It’s all cruel and painful and terribly unfair.
The air con hums to life behind them, and Taekwoon’s lips twitch. The flyer for Sung Shi Kyung’s new single flutters in the wind. Hakyeon shuts his eyes. He already knows what’s going to happen, knows exactly what words Taekwoon will say next and how they will shape this-- them-- forever. But he still longs to hear the words Taekwoon will never say.
“I choose…”
===
a/n: special thanks to slashedsilver and alesserrain for being so sweet. and thanks to alphanumerunes and maebis for the quick read-through!
Pairing: N/Leo
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~4,600
Warning(s): brief mentions of situations of dubious consent with OC
A/N: i wrote this because N clearly doesn't suffer enough ;; cross-posted at AO3
===
“Make a choice.”
Hakyeon stares down at the crown of Taekwoon’s head. There is a small white patch, not quite a bald spot but not a parting either. It looks like a tiny fairy ring, smack dab in the middle of Taekwoon’s forest of hair.
Taekwoon leans back, fairy ring hitting the plaster walls behind them. Above his head, there is a flyer for Sung Shi Kyung sunbae’s latest single. Next to that, an ad for the new fried chicken pizza. Buy one order, get one free! It’s a good deal-- Hakyeon had just eaten there last week, too tired to count the calories as he shoved slice after slice of thick, greasy pizza down his throat. And as if by some ironic twist of fate, the new Sung Shi Kyung single had been crooning in the background. The air con starts up, slowly building into a deafening hum. Taekwoon’s lips twitch, and Hakyeon closes his eyes, forcing out the words one more time.
“Make a choice. Do you want a leader or a friend?”
===
It starts in the humid hallways of Jellyfish Entertainment. Vocal training is the worst part of the day for Hakyeon. Dance is easy; dance is what he was chosen for. Step, jump, turn. It’s all a repetition of the same basic moves, and Hakyeon twists it to his own rhythm. Talent, the scouts had called it. Easy, Hakyeon thinks. Dance is easy.
Vocal training is hard. It requires something he doesn’t have. His vocal chords strain for notes he can’t hear, and there’s a rhythm he can’t follow. Hakyeon thinks it’s stupid that there’s four hours of vocal training a day but only two hours of dance.
“At least you can hit the notes.” Hongbin is young, polite, and good-looking. Unless he’s around Hakyeon. Around Hakyeon, Hongbin is just another high school brat with big dreams and a weary body.
“Anyone can hit the right note.” Hakyeon twists the water bottle in his hands. “Go to a noraebang.”
“Thanks, hyung. I feel so much better.” Hongbin’s disgruntled, partly at Hakyeon, mostly at himself. Only a few months as a trainee and he’s already dejected. Hakyeon laughs. Hongbin gives him an alarmed look, but Hakyeon still laughs because the kid doesn’t get it. As untrained as he might be, Hongbin has something Hakyeon doesn’t. And that’s all he needs to debut.
Another trainee leaves the practice room, and for a few seconds, a voice singing to a Sisqo song floats out. Hakyeon cranes his neck, trying to see inside before the door slams shut. The voice is soft, airy and thin; it’s unique and beautiful and exactly what Hakyeon thinks Jellyfish would choose.
“This rehearsal is going to suck.”
Hakyeon nods heavily. The assigned piece is in English and the tempo is slow, making any slur of the syllables hard to hide. All those English classes and hours in hagwons boiled down to nothing when it actually mattered.
The door opens again, no music this time, and a new face walks out. He’s tall, eyes narrow and shoulders wide, and when he brushes past them, Hakyeon can smell grass and mud. Exhaling deeply, he watches the guy turn down the hall. Turning back to his sheet music, Hakyeon bites his lip. The guy doesn’t look like his voice.
“I hate vocal training,” Hongbin mutters. Hakyeon wholeheartedly agrees.
===
His name is Jung Taekwoon. It’s the third group vocal training session and the instructor introduces him as Taekwoon. Hakyeon thinks the name suits his character-- the first syllable is harsh and concise, much like him.
“Singer,” he said when Hakyeon asked about his dreams. Well that was obvious. Wasn’t that why they were all here? But Hakyeon thinks that Taekwoon just might have a chance. He has a unique voice and a distinctive face. With a little attention, both of those could easily make him a star. It’s unfair.
“You have a good voice.”
Taekwoon gives a nonchalant shrug and hunches further over the sheet music. His hair falls slightly over his eyes, eyes that are piercing yet uninterested. Taekwoon’s entire being reeks of tsundere idol material. Hakyeon can already hear the fangirls’ screams, can already see the stage lights.
It’s unfair.
===
Jump to one month before MyDol filming starts. Hakyeon and Taekwoon are sitting at a park, thousand won ddeokbokki and Chilsung soda balanced delicately on their laps. It's a decent day out with enough sun between the trees to balance the lingering bite of winter. For once, Taekwoon doesn't have any headphones on, his gaze intently focused on a group of dogs across the park.
"I can't believe we'll be on TV." Hakyeon fiddles with his food, digging his fork into the paper plate. "My mom's going to freak out when she hears about this."
There's a soft hum, and Taekwoon shoves another forkful of ddeok into his mouth. A dog stops next to them. Hakyeon hasn't seen Taekwoon's face light up like that since that day the CEO's kid stopped by the company.
"We're going to be famous pretty soon," he tries again when the dog leaves. "Supposedly, there'll be like ten of us."
Supposedly, they won't be able to walk around in public anymore; supposedly, they'll miss the eyes that look through them. Hakyeon jiggles his leg. Supposedly, Taekwoon will start talking more.
“So many kids,” Hakyeon laughs lightly. “You know that means someone’s going to go home.”
The ddeokbokki burns Hakyeon's tongue, carving a path down his throat and settling nervously in his stomach. Supposedly, they won't be able to eat street food like this in a while. As he hastily stuffs the last bit into his mouth, Taekwoon gets up. Hakyeon thinks their conversation ends just like that, if he can even call it a conversation, and follows Taekwoon silently through the park, down the street, into the subway. They're waiting for the dorm elevator when Taekwoon sighs.
“I just want to sing.”
The doors open and they're treated to the sight of hunched shoulders and dark eye bags in the elevator mirrors. Hakyeon presses the button for their floor, and for once he doesn't have any words to fill the silence. If only he was as witty as Jaehwan, or maybe as endearing as Wonshik. Then would I have a chance?
It’s ten p.m. and Taekwoon steps into the kitchen for a glass of water when Hakyeon finally decides to go with, “You deserve to sing.” Taekwoon doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move for another minute before he walks back to the bedroom, fingers barely brushing across Hakyeon’s shoulder as he passes.
It’s a simple dream. They all deserve that much.
===
It had taken four months for Taekwoon to open up to him. Even then, Hakyeon wasn’t sure if Taekwoon spoke to him out of friendship or necessity. In this industry, maybe a bit of both.
Hakyeon spoke most of the time, nonsense filling the distance between them as Taekwoon threw him an occasional glance. Flashback to five months before MyDol filming and they’re sprawled on the practice room floor. Hakyeon anxiously twists the rings on his fingers.
“The line-up.” Taekwoon has advanced to uttering two words now. It’s a goddamn miracle.
“Looks like that one kid from Busan got kicked out last week. He had great potential but I overheard the director say it’s because his past is too shady. Maybe he was in a gang or something, like in that one movie where the guys would cut off your finger if you lied or--”
The words sound stupid, even to Hakyeon. They all know why the kid left-- he wasn’t good enough. Taekwoon puts on his headphones. Hakyeon adjusted his rings, slipping a few onto different digits. It’s a goddamn miracle.
===
It was a humid summer afternoon, and Hakyeon only remembers it being so because it was hot, sweat dripping down their necks and faces, and Taekwoon had taken his shirt off. They might’ve been playing basketball, or soccer, but Hakyeon only remembered the hitch in his breath and the clench in his stomach as he watched his best friend strip naked.
He only remembered the twisted smiles, the lingering touches and soft voices that filled his head. He only remembered every single moment Jung Taekwoon turned his life upside down and rightside up.
Taekwoon shook off the sweat on his bangs. “Hot.”
Hakyeon guiltily agreed.
===
Flash forward to a dressing room, the make-up table surprisingly uncluttered for once. Armed with only foundation and lip balm, Hakyeon feels uncertain when the coordi noona sends him away.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” She motions for Jaehwan to take the seat, rolling her eyes when she gets a screech in response. “It’s a simple concept this time. First love and all that.”
First love. Hakyeon walks out on set, adjusting his hair as the director motions at them. Taekwoon joins him, their shoulders brushing as they lean in to hear the instructions. And all that. Someone hands him roses, and the camera pans onto his face as he pricks his finger on a thorn.
“Action!”
Smiling, he looks into the lens and winks. First love. If only it were that simple.
===
Flash back to their trainee days, when Hakyeon learns that words aren’t Taekwoon’s forte, but he can paint the world with his voice. Back to when Hakyeon learns Taekwoon’s language, and suddenly grunts are full sentences (“I’m hungry,” “Let’s practice some more,” “Did you get some sleep?” “You can lean on my shoulder but only for a minute.”) Suddenly, eyerolls are signs of fondness and deep breaths are moments of fear.
Jump to four months of this language, when Taekwoon runs fingers down his arm in the car, or rubs circles into his wrists after practice, or stares at him from across the table at lunch. Suddenly Hakyeon wonders if maybe he’s been wrong the whole time, if he’s been reading the wrong manual for understanding Jung Taekwoon. But then sometimes, in between hidden smiles and shared earbuds, Hakyeon hopes he might have gotten it right.
===
Hakyeon remembers his sister’s first date. It was the summer of ninth grade and he‘s sitting on her bed, clothes surrounding him and perfume filling his head. Nervous giggles, poking at nonexistent pimples and smoothing down hair-- it was fascinating to see his calm sister reduced to such a jittery mess.
“I really like him.” She spreads another layer of gloss on her lips-- glancing briefly at Hakyeon before tossing him some chapstick-- and adjusts her skirt for the tenth time. “I just want this to work.”
It had apparently worked because three years later, they were married. Hakyeon remembers his sister’s first date because that-- the breathless laughter and uncertain future and layers of chapstick-- is exactly how he feels every time he sees Taekwoon.
===
Flashback to mid-way through MyDol filming. They’re sitting in the back of a small shop in Gangnam, shoveling jjajangmyeon and dumplings down their throats. It’s the best thing they’ve eaten in weeks and tastes all the more amazing because they know it’ll be a rare treat from now on. It was easily the best day in months, not only because the noodles were perfect but because Taekwoon had been the one to invite Hakyeon. He rarely initiated anything, so of course Hakyeon would ditch everything and say yes. Of course he’d do that in a heartbeat.
“Thanks.” Taekwoon’s staring down at his empty bowl.
“Are you asking me to pay?” Hakyeon jokes. “And here I thought you’d finally treat me for a change.”
Taekwoon shakes his head. “For being there for me.”
Hakyeon’s taken back to his sister’s wedding, watching as she stands teary-eyed at the altar. He’s taken back to the reception, when she grabs his hands and tugs him onto the dance floor. They’re slowly swaying back and forth, her smile putting the lights to shame, and his heart swells. “When you find the one, don’t let go.” Her gaze drifts over his shoulder, something he can only describe as pure love shining in her eyes. She squeezes his shoulder before moving away, hand stretched for her husband, the lingering whisper of, “Don’t let go, Hakyeon-ah.”
Taekwoon’s fingers drum the table, and he finally looks up. “Really. Thanks.”
Hakyeon gives a nervous laugh. “You know I’ll always have your back.”
Taekwoon smiles, and Hakyeon knows he’s stuck for good. What do I do now, noona?
“Lifelong friends.” And Taekwoon picks up the check. (Flash forward to the future, any time in the future, when those words are the only evidence that Hakyeon ever had a chance.)
“Yeah.” Hakyeon’s stuck, whether he wants to be or not.
===
Jump to hours after the final line-up is determined, minutes after the cameras shut off, seconds after the CEO leaves. Jump to Jaehwan clutching his hand, Wonshik crying to his sister on the phone, Sanghyuk and Hongbin grinning at each other. Jump to Taekwoon two steps away from him.
Hakyeon watches him; the shaking fingertips, the way his eyes clench shut as hiccups escape between stuttered breaths-- Taekwoon’s happy. And then jump to Taekwoon flinching, turning, jerking away from him when Hakyeon touches his shoulder. His eyes shift away, lips pressed into an impossibly tight line across his blank face-- Hakyeon doesn’t understand.
(“Make a choice.”
“I choose…”)
Jaehwan’s still screaming in his ear, but Hakyeon can’t hear a word he’s saying. Hongbin’s lips are moving, Wonshik beaming by his side, and then suddenly--
“Leader.” It’s loud and clear, right from Jung Taekwoon’s own lips.
Hakyeon bitterly laughs, letting the tears fall.
===
Flash forward to 2014 and they’re standing on the set of a photoshoot. Elle, Vogue, something big.
“Would you do it again?”
In the background, Sanghyuk is pestering Wonshik again, Hongbin watching proudly from the side. Jaehwan is eyeing the buffet spread, giving it a longing glance before he joins in with Sanghyuk’s antics.
The camera light is hot, his skin feels like it’s either sparkling or burning. Maybe both. It must look beautiful. The one fan in the building is tilted away, and his cashmere sweater is starting to stick. He hopes the interviewer won’t notice. Then again, they notice everything. Next to their manager, Taekwoon is staring at the camera. Hakyeon can see his eyes follow Hakyeon’s every move on the small screen. He’s watching N.
“N-shi? Would you do VIXX all over again?”
Hakyeon looks beyond the camera, daring Taekwoon to look up. “I don’t know.”
===
They’re backstage at the 2013 Seoul Music Awards. Five minutes before stage, and Hakyeon peeks out into the audience to see a few VIXX signs at the far right of the crowd. Better than none. They can do this.
“My mic.”
Sanghyuk’s voice lifts above the noise, a few murmurs crowding around them. “No, my mic isn’t working! I need the mic--”
Two minutes before stage and there’s shuffling, voices getting louder, higher. Hakyeon quickly makes his way to Sanghyuk. Grabbing his mic pack, he flicks a few buttons. Sanghyuk’s youth is evident in the trembling of his fingers, the quick drop of his shoulders when Hakyeon takes over.
“Watching all those techs backstage finally paid off,” Hakyeon grins when the mic crackles back to life. Sanghyuk smiles, wide teeth and relief pouring out of his body. “Thanks, hyung.”
It’s thirty seconds before stage and Hakyeon meets Taekwoon’s gaze. “Leader.” Hakyeon doesn’t know if Taekwoon says it or if it’s in his head. As if on cue, Taekwoon nods at him.
“Fighting fighting!” Sanghyuk is back, leaning on his shoulder as excitement fills his whisper. “Let’s do this, leader-nim.”
Hakyeon looks away from Taekwoon. They have work to do.
===
Jump to five months after debut, when Hongbin wants to chop off his hair, Sanghyuk wants to sleep more, and Wonshik is donning every single piece of jewelry he can find. They’re still running on the high of debut, each of them checking video counts and monitoring every little performance. They’re still optimistic about their future. Hakyeon spends his nights in the laundry room, downvoting the worst comments on their pages.
“Group talk.”
Their manager sets a plate of ddeok on the table. The heavy thud settles uncomfortably in Hakyeon’s stomach, and he watches from the side as five hands reach eagerly for the food. “Since you’ve all debuted, there’re a few rules we need to talk about. One, don’t do something stupid and screw this up. This means no phones--” he pointedly glances at Jaehwan-- “no talking to people you don’t know. You don’t have an opinion and everyone is your best friend. Also, no girls.”
Taekwoon sniffs. Hakyeon wonders if he finds this ironic as he does.
“Two, if you need to have sex, deal with it yourself. Or tell me and I’ll get you some videos or something.”
There’s a cough from Sanghyuk and suddenly four boys are yelling.
“Hyung, come on!”
“You don’t have to say that out loud!”
“This is so embarrassing-- I’m moving to China.”
“What kind of videos are these?”
It’s mildly entertaining to see their faces so flustered. Hakyeon bursts into small giggles, pointedly meeting Taekwoon’s eyes. I dare you.
“Just give us a few, hyung.” Everyone stares at Hakyeon. Jaehwan’s incredulous expression almost makes him laugh again, but Hakyeon bites it back and tries to put on a serious face. He probably looks constipated instead. That’s what Taekwoon had always said anyways. “We can rewatch them if we have to, and maybe you could get us some tissues and lotion while you’re at it--”
“Are you serious, hyung?” Taekwoon stares at him, narrowed eyes echoing Wonshik’s question.
“It’s bound to happen eventually. We’re growing boys, after all. Better to deal with it now than be caught later.” Hakyeon stretches his smile further, as if the pull of skin might overcome the bitterness and pain that burns at him. “As your leader, I think this is the best thing I can do for you all.”
There, Jung Taekwoon. Take that. Taekwoon holds his gaze-- one, two, three, four-- and looks away.
Hakyeon wins.
===
It’s one year after debut and four months after their first win. Hakyeon stumbles in at three in the morning, filth crawling down his skin. He needs burning water and some pain meds, preferably something that will keep him asleep for a few hours, something, anything, to get this dirty, dirty feeling off of him.
“It’s late.”
Someone stands up from the couch, and even in the darkness, Hakyeon can recognize those broad shoulders and gently sloped back.
“Well, that’s how it is.” He kicks off his shoes and trudges down the hall. Taekwoon’s stare burns into his back.
“Where were you?”
Three whole words. Jung Taekwoon has graced him with three words and maybe even some concern laced in his voice. How exciting. “Out. In a meeting.”
“This late?”
“Meetings happen all the time.”
“What were you doing?”
Miracles of miracles, they’re having a full conversation. Would Taekwoon ever cease to amaze him. Hakyeon smirks, leaning heavily against the wall. Taekwoon’s eyes roam over him, and Hakyeon’s taken back to two hours ago and he can feel those clammy, disgusting, dirty dirty dirty hands all over him again. Bile crawling up his throat, he runs to the toilet.
“I’m okay.”
Each hurl comes up empty but he can’t get the acrid taste out of his mouth. Whimpering, he steps into the shower. Soap. He needs soap and scalding, hot water.
“Your clothes.”
Hakyeon stands under the water, letting it drench him completely, clothes and all. “I’m okay.”
Taekwoon grips his arm but it’s so cold, Hakyeon flinches back , deeper into the shower. “What happened?”
“I’m okay,” Hakyeon smiles-- begs-- at him. “It’s just leader stuff. You know.”
He can see Taekwoon’s eyes widen, a million questions suddenly available on his lips, but it’s too much and Hakyeon just wants a shower. So he shuts the door. “I’m okay.”
He’s always okay.
===
Flash forward to the second time Hakyeon sees Taekwoon crying. The first had been when they were all watching a documentary about elephant poaching. Jaehwan had laughed at the tears, face wet himself, and for once, Sanghyuk had been wise enough to stay quiet. Hakyeon remembers those tears because they were so silent, barely evident on that stone face. They fell so beautifully.
They weren’t full and heavy and ugly like the ones Taekwoon shed in the video. Of course Taekwoon would cry when Hakyeon wasn’t there. Of course he’d bawl on national television, in front of his dongsaengs, away from him.
“Let’s keep working hard in the future,” Taekwoon musters, and that’s it. Hakyeon clutches his phone, the video slowly turning blurry as something terribly wet and painful drips from his own eyes.
Don’t cry. Hakyeon presses his eyes shut, clenching back a horrible cry as he shakes and shakes. Don’t cry for me now.
For the second time in his life, Hakyeon sees Taekwoon crying. And the tears are just for him.
===
The beginning of 2017 looks good for VIXX. They’re kicking off a second world tour, two guaranteed winning comebacks already recorded and filmed-- there are CF offers, musicals, talk shows, acting gigs.
The beginning of 2017 looks like hell for Hakyeon when he discovers that there’s no break in his schedule until June and he has a meeting next week with that PD. He’s a bit touchy, to say the least, but Hakyeon’s heard of worst cases so he sucks it up and reminds himself to buy more cologne. VIXX needs a spot on that new talk show everyone’s raving about.
A loud crack echoes next to his ear. He jumps back, clutching his chest as Sanghyuk and Hongbin cackle.
“Happy New Year, hyung!” Jaehwan’s breath smells slightly of soju and Wonshik stinks of sweat.
“Happy New Year.” Taekwoon hands him a shot. Hakyeon stares down at the liquid in his hand-- his reflection looks back just as blankly. What was that cologne that PD likes again? There’s another loud crack as Jaehwan pops a streamer. He bursts into loud song, Wonshik swiftly joining in off-key. Prada. Hakyeon tilts his head back and lets the liquid burn down his throat. That was the cologne.
===
It’s 2015 and Hakyeon considers sleeping. There's a rope twisted around his neck, pulling him back and forth to recordings to concerts to meals to the dorm. He discovers that it’s difficult to come up for air when the one thing that had kept him breathing won’t give him the time of day. It’s been three years but Hakyeon still hasn’t learned. Maybe he never will.
"It's hard, isn't it?"
Ryeowook is just as he looks: shrewd and too smart for his own good. Nimble fingers jot notes on paper, headphones dangling around his ears as they wait for the commercial break to end. An ad for life insurance hums in the background.
“Of course not.” Hakyeon isn’t sure what Ryeowook’s asking him, but there’s only one question in this industry and the answer is always no. No, he’s not tired. No, he’s not wondering why he tries anymore. No, he’s fine. No no no no-- no, he’ll never learn.
“It’ll run you to death.” Ryeowook’s gaze seems too knowing for comfort. The PD motions at them, last-minute notes thrown in their faces before the radio clock counts down. Hakyeon fiddles with the microphone.
If only he could run himself to death. Maybe then he wouldn’t spend nights sitting in the dark, Wonshik’s deep snores echoing in time to the ticking clock. Maybe the suffocating silence would be filled and each new day wouldn’t feel like a punishment.
“A distraction,” Ryeowook begins. A bottle of soju sits between them, grilled meat untouched as Hakyeon picks at the lettuce. “Sometimes people need a distraction.”
Hakyeon just nods.
“You need a distraction, Cha Hakyeon.” It must have been a long week for Ryeowook. Hakyeon thinks the radio show went well enough, but at the rate Ryeowook’s tossing back shots, maybe not. He should have practiced more. He should have read over the script faster. He should have-- “Stop thinking so much. That’s the problem with you kids-- you overthink things and end up regretting everything in the end.”
You have no idea. Hakyeon pours him another shot.
“I know a PD at SBS who’s looking for new radio DJ.” Ryeowook points at him. “Distraction.”
“I don’t think--”
“Don’t think about it. It’ll be good to do something by yourself for a change.” Ryeowook looks too sober for how empty the bottle is. Hakyeon will have to carry him back to the car later, but for now, he seems like the wiser one. “It’s time to think of yourself, Hakyeon. Because if you don’t, no one will.”
The next day, Ryeowook texts him about how long he threw up and why alcohol is a horrible, wonderful thing. Hakyeon types back smiley faces and pouts and cute characters as last night’s words echo in his mind. Think of himself? Taekwoon steps out of the bedroom, hair wet and shirt loose as he walks to the kitchen. A gruff ‘good morning’ sends Hakyeon’s heart pounding.
I’ll take the radio position. Sending the text, he leans back and closes his eyes. He should sleep.
===
One night in the future, Taekwoon will join him in the living room. Hakyeon’s phone will burn a bright four a.m. in the darkness and the new coffee machine will slowly start the morning. The couch will sink under the weight of another body, and Hakyeon will feel Taekwoon’s warmth barely an inch away. It’ll take him everything not to break the silence.
Do you regret…
===
Jump to a cold Tuesday night in the end of November, a year that he doesn’t remember. The company van sits in traffic, heat blasting and the radio wailing, and there are soft murmurs from the back of the car. It’s ten below zero that night, the radio DJ’s voice too warm and excited for the godforsaken weather. Hakyeon can feel sweat gathering underneath his thick sweater.
"They're talking about a world tour next year." Four voices excitedly shout from the back, their manager trying to contain his laughter as they fling question after question at him. Locations, dates, tracklists, choreography-- a distraction. Ryeowook’s drunken face pops into his mind and Hakyeon manages a soft snort.
“Are you excited?” Jaehwan’s mint breath is in his ear. His hands clutch Hakyeon’s shoulders, shaking him. “We’ll be all around the world!”
Hundreds of miles around the world-- then will he be able to escape? Hakyeon glances behind him to see bright eyes and the barest hint of a smile. Taekwoon nods at him. Turning back around, Hakyeon looks out the window. Probably not.
===
Flash forward to a back injury that plagues half the industry. Flash back to somehow scrounging together enough money to buy his sister a birthday present. Flash forward to birthdays in foreign countries and flash back to birthdays in empty practice rooms. Flash back to a final lineup where he leads four nervous faces and feels one strong hand in his grasp. Flash back to a dark practice room where he rests his head on Taekwoon’s shoulder and it’s the best night of his life because Taekwoon indulges him. Flash back back back to his first steps into Jellyfish Entertainment when all it took were two seconds and a small breath to change his future. And pause at all the moments in between when Hakyeon spins deeper and deeper into this dark hole.
===
Flash forward to the very last day they’re VIXX. Streamers hang from the ceiling, a half-eaten cake on the verge of falling off the table, five sets of suitcases waiting by the door-- something light, almost warm, something like relief, sinks into Hakyeon’s bones as they leave one by one.
“It’s over.” Taekwoon fiddles with his bag, teeth worrying his lip as he glances around the apartment. Hakyeon sees Hongbin’s mug on the countertop, along with Jaehwan’s collection of miniature action figures guarding the sink window. Those will be an excuse for a group dinner next week.
“It’s really over,” Taekwoon repeats. Leave it to Taekwoon to talk first on their last day. Hakyeon grins. You always had such great timing.
Hakyeon settles on the couch, looking around at the bare walls. He’ll be moving out next month, once he buys that plane ticket to Japan. Only Wonshik knows for now, and that’s in case they send out a search party. Then again, Hakyeon’s always been lost and he managed to find his way home just fine.
“It’s never over.” Hakyeon finally meets Taekwoon’s eyes, and it’s still the same. It will always be the same, no matter how many years pass. Like a falling star, Taekwoon was destined to crash into Hakyeon’s world, just as Hakyeon was destined to burn for him. I suppose I’ll always love you. Hakyeon sends him a soft smile, a final wish that can’t come true, and he closes his eyes. There can be no other way.
The door clicks shut, footsteps shuffling further away, and then silence. Hakyeon sleeps.
===
“Make a choice.”
The first breaths of summer creep into the air, the promise of humidity and sweat rising with the sun. They can hear Superhero blaring from inside the practice room, the bass shaking under their feet. Ninety-six hours. Hakyeon stares down at Taekwoon’s bowed head. Ninety-six hours until debut. Until everything changes.
“Make a choice. Do you want a leader or a friend?”
They both know what he’s asking. The words just mask the real question they’ve been dancing around since-- Hakyeon blinks-- since the beginning. He’s cruel to ask this of Taekwoon, but so is this industry, this job, this future-- this life. It’s all cruel and painful and terribly unfair.
The air con hums to life behind them, and Taekwoon’s lips twitch. The flyer for Sung Shi Kyung’s new single flutters in the wind. Hakyeon shuts his eyes. He already knows what’s going to happen, knows exactly what words Taekwoon will say next and how they will shape this-- them-- forever. But he still longs to hear the words Taekwoon will never say.
“I choose…”
===
a/n: special thanks to slashedsilver and alesserrain for being so sweet. and thanks to alphanumerunes and maebis for the quick read-through!