Under Your Touch - Chapter 6
Pairing: poly!Ateez x makeup artist!Reader (fem!Reader)
Warnings: (romantic?) tension, casual swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, PTSD, minor PTSD episode, platonic affection, work (eww), food/eating, exhaustion/overworking
Author's Note: Hello there my loves! I'm back!
I took a long break due to a lot going on in my personal life. That said, my resolution for the New Years is to allocate more time to my hobbies and taking breaks. This chapter has been planned out for a while, but honestly I think writing it helped me realize just how much I've been working myself recently. So, the goal is to continue with a more consistent upload schedule for you all.
Much love to everyone supporting me here! Enjoy an extra long chapter. I need to feed you all well after starving you for so long~
Happy Holidays!!
Join me on ao3 @frflyavenue
The upcoming Ateez comeback is incredible.
Ara-nim got permission to hear the new tracks, which you promptly listened to on your walk home from work this afternoon… and you haven’t stopped listening to them. Even if you aren’t a true fan, you feel a bit giddy at the exclusive experience of hearing this masterpiece before everyone else. But you can’t sit and feel special for too long—you need to get to work.
You sit on your bed, scrolling through images of the members on Pinterest. For work, of course—you need to understand the members’ usual styles and body types before you can design anything for them. Each of them has a unique style: Seonghwa with a regal androgyny, Mingi with his strong silhouette, Wooyoung’s perfect asymmetry. Hongjoong’s swagger, Yunho’s domestic beauty, Jongho’s modest sexiness. Yeosang with his hidden intensity, and San with his protective strength. You sketch out a quick outline of their body types on your tablet and note their apparent style preferences before scrolling to the side to take a few notes on the style of the music.
The new tracks are some of Eden’s and Hongjoong’s best works, filled to the brim with a beautiful stack of strings and horns within their usual smooth hip-hop style, accompanied by the members smooth vocals. It’s a new sound for them, but just like everything they do, it suits them. “A shame this is only an EP,” you mumble to yourself. It’s album quality.
You jot a few notes of what comes to mind. The 808s have a domestic bedroom pop sound. ‘Yunho boyfriend aesthetic. Soft fabrics. knit?’ The smooth score of violins brings out something lighter and more regal. ‘Sheer/flowy fabrics. Should catch the light of the stage. Tulips, pastels, cream colors. Jewels. Silk.’
You hum, looking it over. There are just too many ideas that come to mind to be able to start with one. You roll onto your back, letting out a frustrated huff. This is something you love to do in your free time, but now that it’s for work… you can’t help but feel nerves creeping in. It really isn’t that serious, but it’s still something that you’re going to show to Ara-nim and everyone else on the team. It’s your art. You never were very good at showing other people your art.
You sigh, rolling back over onto your stomach and looking down at the dim light of your tablet. That’s tomorrow’s problem, you decide, taking your first sip of coffee and wincing as you realize it’s now cold. You can’t be nervous about showing off your work when you don’t even have anything to show yet. You pick up your stylus, twirling it between your fingers. You need to start somewhere. So, scrolling back to your templates of the members, you decide to start with Seonghwa.
Seonghwa is always the first awake in the Ateez dorms. Usually he wakes up early to shower and enjoy his quiet time before his members, as much as he loves them, wake up and cause chaos. This morning should have been no different. Today, Seonghwa and Hongjoong have a sub-unit photoshoot for a brand deal, while the rest of the members are given the grace of a clear schedule. This is great for Seonghwa too, since the photoshoot will only take a few hours and he has six less grumpy members to wake up this morning. The only problem is that Hongjoong is absolutely refusing to get out of bed.
“Hongjoong-ah, it’s an early morning. You don’t have time to sleep in today.”
“Mmf… I’m awake. Just let me lay here for a minute…”
Seonghwa sighs, hearing his voice drift off. “I’m sorry, but you don’t have time. Our schedule is thirty minutes earlier than usual. We need to be out of the dorms in twenty to get to the studio.”
“Twenty minutes? That’s plenty of time,” he mumbles.
“You need to shower, I let you off the hook last night so you could go to sleep but you desperately need to wash off.”
Hongjoong groans. “You’re so mean, Seonghwa-yah.”
Seonghwa huffs a laugh of disbelief. “Mean? How am I mean?”
Hongjoong frowns, peeking an eye open and pouting, moving the covers of Seonghwa’s bed down so they aren’t covering his face anymore. “You were rough on me last night and now you’re rushing me out of bed even though my muscles hurt.”
Seonghwa blushes, not expecting the bluntness, and lifts his hand to rub the crease between his eyebrows. “I wasn’t rough on you, you’re just tiny. And I was very gentlemanly, thank you very much. I cleaned you up and everything, and then let you sleep in my bed. But you still need a shower.” Seonghwa reaches down and gently pulls the covers down, moving to lightly massage Hongjoong's lower back. “And if your back is sore, the warm water won't hurt. Come on. It’s time to get up.”
Hongjoong sighs, glancing up at him with a light blush from the attention. “...You’re going to be the death of me, Hwa.”
Seonghwa smiles softly, ruffling his hair. “Mhm. You coming?”
Hongjoong nods, sitting up with a groan. “Only because I don’t want to leave Y/N waiting.”
Seonghwa chuckles, nodding. “Right. Go get yourself presentable for your girlfriend.”
Hongjoong rolls his eyes, still mumbling to himself as Seonghwa steps out of the room.
Seonghwa believes that Y/N has been a pleasant addition to the KQ staff. He hasn’t talked to her much, sure. But his members all adore her, and she’s proven herself to be incredibly talented. Wooyoung and Yunho have been especially outspoken about their adoration for her, but Seonghwa has been keeping a watchful eye over everybody. Especially over Hongjoong.
Hongjoong has had it rough lately. The comeback is only a few weeks away, and their captain still has about a million things to do; between photoshoots, dance practice, production, and attending meetings on behalf of the members, he is thoroughly booked. He’s reaching his limit. Though Hongjoong would never admit it, Seonghwa has certainly noticed. The man has been looking more exhausted by the day, hardly sleeping at night to finish his work and struggling to find time to eat. And Seonghwa… he’s worried.
Seonghwa has tried helping any way he can. He makes double portions of meals so he can give the “extras” to Hongjoong without making him feel burdensome. He checks in on the man when he doesn’t come home at night to make sure that he’s wrapping up. He gives him physical relief on nights he’s particularly frustrated in hopes of reducing the poor man’s stress a little bit. But at the end of the day, that’s all he can do.
And even though Hongjoong is still overworking himself, the addition of Y/N to the team has changed something. While he isn’t any less tired, he seems to have some sort of motivation to get to the studio every morning. If he’s refusing to take a break for a shower, all Seonghwa has to say is “You don’t want to be unhygienic around Y/N, do you?” and his friend will reluctantly take a break. So while he knows very little about her, he’s decided to take good care of her, because even if she doesn’t know it, she’s taking care of his best friend.
Thank you, Y/N, he thinks, packing him and Hongjoong a small breakfast for the morning, alongside an extra portion. And he decided then that he would take care of her too.
You’re nearly sprinting on your way to the studio this morning.
You ended up working late into the night finishing up sketches for three different group designs with outfits for each member… so 24 different outfits and notes to accompany each. What you failed to remember in your creative burst was that today’s schedule was going to begin thirty minutes early. You had every intention of getting there on time in spite of not having anybody’s makeup to do today, but, in failing to set your alarm, you woke up thirty minutes before you needed to be there. You managed to throw on a sweatshirt and some jeans, grabbed your things, made yourself a bottle of water, and rushed out the door.
Now you’re here, heart racing as you rush to work in the freezing cold. You glance down to check your phone for the time, nearly tripping on a curb as you round the corner to get to the secluded studio. Sweet, only two minutes late. Not ideal for someone who likes to get to work early, but not as bad as it could have been. You slow down, out of breath as you scan your keycard and let yourself into the back entrance, hurrying in and removing your (Yunho’s) coat.
There’s already light chatter as you make your way in, and you offer a wave when you see Ara-nim and Hyerin-unnie talking with Seonghwa in the lounge. Still catching your breath, you set your bag down and walk over to join them, apologetic.
“I’m so, so sorry. I overslept.”
Seonghwa smiles, kindly waving off your concern. “It’s no trouble. Hongjoong-ah slept in too. He’s in the bathroom washing his face.”
You hum, sitting down on the couch next to a lounging Yeosang. “Good morning, Yeosang-ssi.”
Yeosang opens his eyes, bowing his head. “Good morning, Y/N-ssi. Did you run here?”
You nod, offering an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, sorry if I look like a mess.”
Yeosang shakes his head. “No, you look good.”
You smile, a bit relieved. You don’t leave the house without makeup, usually. You’re sure your hair is mussed from running, too. But for some reason, you trust Yeosang not to lie to you.
Seonghwa suddenly sits down between the two of you, smiling as he hands you a cloth bag. Confused, you take it, blinking.
Seonghwa chuckles. “I had extras when I made breakfast bentos this morning,” he explains matter-of-factly. “You usually don’t eat breakfast if Jongho doesn’t feed you.”
Your eyes widen as you open the bag, peeking in at the carefully sealed bento. “Oh, Seonghwa-ssi! You really didn’t have to…”
Seonghwa shakes his head, smiling. “I wanted to. Please, eat.”
Too touched to speak, you just look down at the bento, before gathering your thoughts and grinning in return, eyes twinkling. “Thank you so much, Seonghwa-ssi.”
The pretty man shakes his head softly, eyes caring. “Of course. And please, don’t be afraid to use less formal language with me. We’re all family here.”
You nod, unable to hold back your grin. “Thank you, Oppa.”
Seonghwa seems content with that, and he leaves to go “make sure Hongjoong didn’t fall asleep in the bathroom.” You carefully take the bento out of the cloth bag, opening it and gasping at the arrangement of fruits and carefully prepared eggs and sausages. Grinning, you pop a grape into your mouth.
“Unnie, can you go over the plan for today again?”
Hyerin smiles, sitting down in the reclining chair. “Of course. Hongjoong and Seonghwa are gonna get ready here, and then they’re gonna leave here in about two hours. You and I need to work on sketches for a little while, because Ara-yah is gonna get here in a few minutes and I have no doubt she’ll ask to see our progress. And Yeosang has some computer work he needs to do, so he decided to hang out here.”
You nod, immersed in your breakfast. You take a moment to swallow before speaking again. “Perfect. I have three group sketches made, so that should suffice for now. I’ll try to have three more done for the meeting tomorrow.”
Hyerin hums, standing up with a grunt. She makes her way to the backroom, ruffling your hair on the way past, sending you into a fit of giggles. “Good job, kiddo.”
The back door opens again with a creak, followed by the familiar click of heels on tile. You turn, smiling in recognition. “Ara-nim!”
She turns, face softening. “Good morning, sweet girl. Sorry I’m late.”
Yeosang suddenly chuckles. “You’re always late.”
Ara just shrugs, taking off her shoes and plopping down between the two of you. “By fifteen minutes. It’s worth it, I need to get coffee in the morning.”
You laugh, scooting closer to her. “But you don’t need coffee, Unnie. You have so much energy.”
She smiles, winking. “Well I have to keep it that way, don’t I?” Yeosang chuckles. “Still, I apologize. Do you have any sketches, Y/N-ah?”
You nod, reaching over the ledge of the couch into your bag to grab your tablet. “I only have a few,” you explain, opening up the drawing program and handing it over to her. “I like the third the most, but the first one might adhere best to the style of the album…”
She hums, eyebrows raised as she looks over them. It’s a lot of work, really. Three group styles, with each member having a unique outfit. It's a total of 24 drawings, each in immaculate detail.
“You made these?” She asks, scrolling through. You nod, and Ara tilts the tablet to show Yeosang, watching as his expression slowly matches her own. “These are incredible, Y/N.”
Yeosang nods, eyes glued to the screen. “I don’t know if I’ve seen anything like this, at least not for boy groups.”
You nod. “I was thinking about Seonghwa’s fashion, from what I’ve seen. A lot of your faces can be styled to be more androgynous. I wasn’t sure about how you’d feel about it since you have a more masculine style, but-”
“No, I really like it,” Yeosang interjects. “At least for my designs. You used more feminine clothing, but you still found a way to show off my muscles instead of trying to hide them, which is nice.”
You hum. “Do you prefer more masculine clothing, Yeosang-ssi?”
Yeosang shakes his head. “I like to have balance.” He offers a smile. “You did well.”
“I’m glad I thought to get the makeup team in on this,” Ara murmurs.
You nervously laugh, shaking your head humbly. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the stylists, of course.”
Ara laughs, shaking her head. “Honey, I haven’t even started. My brain is empty. Stylists tend to think too much. I think it helps that you don’t have the mind of a stylist, it makes for something we could’ve never thought of.”
You glance down, shy. “I’m glad you like them.”
She stands up, handing you your tablet. “Show these in the meeting tomorrow. If you have extra time today you can clean them up into defined layers, that usually helps the style team visualize. Try to keep it to as few layers as you can so they don’t overheat.”
You nod. “Alright. I don’t have anything scheduled today, so I’ll either be working on sketching or checking inventory, if you need me.”
She smiles, thanking you before ducking into the meeting room.
You sigh, standing with a stretch to pack up your breakfast and setting it next to your bag before making your way over to your vanity. You slide open Wooyoung’s drawer, looking over everything with a sigh. These boys use a lot of beauty products, as it turns out. And now that you’ve been working with them every day for the last few weeks, you’re starting to run low. Even worse, since you started working with hardly any money to afford to eat, you didn’t buy any backups, so now the situation is desperate. Sure, you certainly have more money than before now that you actually have a steady income. But still, it’ll take a while to get to a comfortable position.
You sigh, scribbling on your memo pad. ‘Wooyoung foundation – shade #22. Wooyoung contour stick, cool tone #1. Wooyoung primer. Wooyoung sun cream. Setting spray.’ You move over to Jongho’s side of the vanity. ‘Jongho foundation – shade #24. Jongho primer. Jongho lip colors – peach gloss and matte natural.’ You sit up, digging through your hair products too for good measure. ‘Heat protectant. Jongho mousse.’
You stand, staring down at your list and moseying your way back over to the lounge. It’s so much, surely at least $300 worth, you consider with dismay, trying to decide whether or not you have the savings for it. The members each have nice products–the best, of course, for the prettiest faces in Korea. But it does come at the expense of your wallet.
Your thoughts are cut short at the sensation of an unfamiliar hand gripping your shoulder, and you yelp. Whipping your head around with panicked eyes, you turn to face the cold face of Yoon Sohee.
Sohee-nim looks surprised, and she huffs out a laugh. “Woah, are you good?”
You blink, heart thundering in your chest as you try to steady your breaths, panic gripping at your chest. You clear your throat, swallowing. “Yeah, sorry.”
She shrugs. “You need to send me an email verifying your shifts for the next few weeks. Also, you never told me if you wanted to join the travel team.”
You nod, offering a small smile. “I see. I’ll get that sent to you in a few minutes.”
She nods, turning around and walking away without another word. You watch as she sits next to Yeosang, whose concerned eyes are trained on you. She smiles at him, sweetening her voice. “Good morning, Yeosang-ssi.”
Yeosang meets her eyes. “...Good morning.”
You swallow, still struggling to collect yourself. Taking a breath, you turn to escape to the breakroom.
She hums, leaning closer and showing him her planner. “Could you let me know your shifts for next week? I just wanna make sure nothing has changed-”
“I’ll send you an email,” Yeosang replies shortly, watching you go.
You slip behind the door, relaxing just a bit from the privacy. You look around for something to do, stopping at the electric kettle and pressing the button. May as well make tea. Sohee startled you, sure. But you’re feigning much better than yesterday’s little incident, somehow. It doesn’t make you feel any less pathetic.
The door creaks open and Yeosang silently lets himself in, face hardened. “Y/N-ssi, are you alright?”
You wince at his worried tone, embarrassed. Having to walk out twice in a row isn’t at all ideal, especially considering you’re so new. You’re still proving your position here, and losing your mind over what? A friendly tap on the shoulder? “I’m alright, Yeosang-ah,” you reply, smiling softly, not even realizing your comfortable drop in honorifics. “Sorry, you don’t have to worry.”
Yeosang shakes his head, his expression a bit sad. “Y/N-ah, please, don’t worry. I just want to make sure you’re alright. Sohee-nim shouldn’t have-... whatever. Are you feeling okay?”
You nod, blushing slightly as the tea kettle whistles and pouring yourself a cup. “I’m okay, I promise. She just startled me a little bit.”
He pauses, looking bitter.
“...Is something wrong, Yeosang-ah?”
Yeosang looks up, sighing. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but we had a kind of... unofficial meeting about you? Sannie told us about everything last night and warned us to not touch you without permission. He debriefed it to the staff, not just the members, because he didn’t want any more incidents happening if they didn’t have to.”
You nod. “It’s not weird, I asked him to.”
Yeosang looks relieved. “Good. I’m not a fan of talking behind people’s backs.” He pauses. “But I mean to tell you… Sohee-nim knows she shouldn’t touch you unexpectedly, but she did it anyway.”
You smile softly. “It’s alright, it was just an accident. I’m touchy around the other unnies too, so she may have thought she could be affectionate.”
Yeosang frowns. “But Sohee-nim…” He looks conflicted. “I really don’t like to talk behind people's backs. But she isn’t the touchy type with the other girls.” He pauses, something flickering in his eyes, leaving just as fast as it appeared. “Just tell me if she ever bothers you, please.”
You nod, a little lost. It feels like you’re missing information, but Yeosang moves on before you can dwell on it.
“Yunho said you liked playing with his jacket.”
You blink. Yeosang has such a blunt and unexpected way of talking, but it’s refreshing.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so. It felt nice.”
Yeosang nods. “When I don’t know what to do with my hands, I play with this.” He pulls a small keychain out of his pocket, a tiny dog plush dangling from the chain. “Seonghwa-hyung bought it for me because my fidgeting drove him crazy. Do you want to hold it?”
After staring for a moment, you look up from the toy to see Yeosang's aloof expression. “You’re so strange.”
He looks caught off guard, but you’re quick to raise your hands in apology.
“N-not in a bad way! Just… you talk in a very particular way. You know, in a way that’s... great… and not bad...”
He seems confused, but just holds up the little keychain. “I think it might help you relax,” he explains, and you blush. Great, he thinks you’re crazy. At least he doesn’t seem offended.
You gently take the plush, surprised by the unexpected softness of it. You run your fingers over it, quieting down. Yeosang clears his throat, turning around.
“I’ll be outside. You can hold onto it for as long as you’d like.”
You swear you can see his ears tinted pink, but he leaves before you can take a good look.
The rest of the day slips by without much resistance.
You send Sohee the email she asked for, your availability neatly typed out, the decision to transition into working on the travel team made with a steady hand. You finish the last of Seonghwa’s breakfast bento sometime after lunch, refill your coffee (again), help Yeosang hunt down the tea that he swears someone hid from him, and then… well, there isn’t really much else to do. So, you head back to the lounge, tablet tucked under your arm.
Adjusting layers turns out to be a huge pain in the ass. You made your designs based on instinct of what would look good, not bothering with the logic of how a stylist could actually make detailed outfits. Now that you have to put yourself in their shoes, admiration sets in alongside your annoyance. Without much of a choice, you lean back against the side of the couch and get back to work.
Slowly, the studio empties.
Conversations taper off, making the hum of the building sound louder in the absence of voices. You don’t pay it much mind, until the studio lights dim, seemingly on some sort of automatic sensor. Now unable to see much, you sit up straight, zoning back in on your surroundings.
It’s lonely in the studio. There aren’t any windows out back, but the comforting sound of crickets and the hum of the fluorescent lighting betrays the outside’s darkness. Standing up, you stretch your arms up over your head, wincing at the stiffness in your wrists. How long has it been? You roll out your wrists and go to take a sip of your coffee, but it’s cold from being left forgotten. Sputtering, you set the cup down to rub your temples, taking note of a headache setting in.
You’re probably dehydrated, something nags at you, and you walk to the back with your old coffee. You pour a glass of water, gulping it down and refilling it again, before deciding to steep some green tea instead of coffee. You lean back against the counter while you wait, blinking exhaustion out of your eyes. It’s difficult to tell whether it’s from spending hours on one monotonous task or from actual sleepiness. You check your phone for the time.
You run a hand through your hair, willing your headache to go away. Oh, wait, you remember suddenly. We have medicine. You rummage through a few cabinets before finding the headache medicine, and you take one gratefully. By now, your tea must be done steeping, but it looks suspiciously light in color. You take a small sip, only to set it immediately back down, huffing a disbelieving laugh aloud. Shit. Forgot to boil the water first. You dump it out, setting the steeper aside and trying again.
The electric kettle clicks softly as it finishes heating, and you reach for the steeper again, only to freeze.
The door to the lounge opens.
You straighten, your heart giving a small jump as it shuts again with a muted thud. Frowning, you wait, listening for the soft patter of footsteps to stop before peeking your head out of the backroom, just in time to see a familiar figure shrugging a bag off his shoulder. It hits the floor with a thump, the sound echoing too loudly in the quiet studio. He panics for a moment, reaching for it as if he can undo the damage, then sighs, relief washing over him when he guarantees his laptop survived the fall without harm.
You giggle, unable to help it.
He whips around, clearly startled, hand flying to his chest and eyes widening.
You laugh harder at that. “Good evening, Hongjoong-ssi.”
He exhales, shaking his head and setting his laptop on the side table, wandering to join you in the backroom. “What are you doing here so late, Y/N-ah?”
You stir your tea, tapping your spoon lightly on the side of the mug. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“...Touche.” His gaze lingers on you then, observant. “You look tired.”
You turn to meet his eyes, only to see the same reflected right back.
Tired isn’t even the right word for it—truthfully, the Captain looks exhausted. His shoulders sag beneath the weight of his jacket, which he seemingly doesn’t bother taking off. His undereyes are dark and stained with black tightlined eyeshadow, brows knitting together subconsciously. His hair is mussed now, fallen out of place, fringe clumping awkwardly from where gel holds it stiff.
He’s handsome, undeniably so. But right now, he looks worn thin.
Your expression must give away your thoughts, because he sighs, running his finger through his hair just to get them caught in the hardened gel. He winces, frustration flickering in his eyes.
“I thought everyone left already,” you point out. “I didn’t see you get back.”
He shakes his head, offering a small smile. “I just got back. I went straight to the studio after my shoot, but then I realized I lost my hard drive.” He leans back against the counter, letting his eyes lazily fall to the floor. “Manager-nim found it here and put it in a safe spot for me to pick up. It’s too dark to walk, so I had to find a ride and the whole ordeal took me like an hour and a half to get back here.”
You coo sympathetically, feeling sorry for the guy. “It’s already so late… are you going back to the studio?”
He shakes his head. “No, that would waste too much time. I figured I would work here for an hour or so and then spend the night in the lounge.”
Your eyebrow twitches upward in surprise. “You aren’t going home?”
He laughs softly, though nothing was really funny. “No. I don’t do this often, but when it comes to comeback preparation…”
You nod quietly, understanding. You join him in leaning against the counter, and he turns his head to face you. “What about you, hm?” His eyes twinkle. “What’s your excuse?”
Your lips quirk up in a smile. “Everyone’s working their asses off to get styling in order after last week’s incident. Ara-nim and a few members looked over my sketches this morning and really liked them, so I’m cleaning them up to make them presentable for tomorrow’s meeting. If all goes well, they’ll like mine and won’t need to wait on a finalized sketch before getting to work.”
Hongjoong nods, impressed. “You work hard,” he praises. “Just don’t overwork yourself. You’re still pretty new, and this little project isn’t even in your job description.”
You laugh at his hypocrisy. “Maybe you should scold me when I’m not watching you actively overwork yourself, mister.”
He rolls his eyes, but a smile graces his features, lightening up his tired face. “Do as I say, not as I do.”
“Take your own advice,” you quip, eye sparkling.
He sighs, deciding to drop it.
You hum, pushing off the counter. “Well,” you say lightly, lifting your mug. “I was only planning to stay another hour or so.”
Hongjoong watches you for a moment, then nods. “Mind if I work here too?
You smile. “Not at all.”
You wander back to the lounge together in silence, the quiet settling in again. It’s less lonely now, you realize, finding your spot against the side of the couch. He settles at the opposite end, laptop balanced on his thighs, headphones placed over his ears as his fingers begin to move.
You glance up at him periodically while you work. He works fast. He knows exactly what he wants and exactly how to get it. You’ve always believed his lack of hesitation to be a product of immense confidence. As you watch him now, you realize it may be closer to a symptom of his impatience.
He knows how to get what he wants, and he’s going to get it now.
He slides his headphones down to hang around his neck, sighing and rubbing his face as he looks at the screen. Unable to settle your concern, you tentatively clear your throat.
“...I tend to stay up late for things like this because I’m always worried the work I do won’t be good enough,” you say softly, breaking the silence. His eyes dart up to watch you, but your eyes remain on your tablet, hands working on autopilot. “I know rationally that I should sleep, but somehow I manage to convince myself that work is more important than sleep is. I’ve always done that, even when I was a student.”
Hongjoong blinks, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability. You continue.
“Back then, I would study so, so hard to do well on my assignments. I wanted nothing more than to prove myself. But I slept so little, I felt sick. I was exhausted, truly. My presentations would go poorly because I couldn’t remember anything, and I wasn’t doing well on tests no matter how much I studied because I was half asleep.” You laugh softly, recalling the memory. “I like to look back and think of myself as so naive, but here I am now, doing the exact same thing.”
Hongjoong swallows, words dying in his throat. You don’t say anything else, though. You don’t even look at him. You don’t need a response. And so you continue to work, relaxing into the silence as it drags out, seconds turning into minutes.
“...I would do anything for them,” his honeyed voice speaks up, soft so as not to feel jarring in the quiet room.
You look up, admiring the side of his face. He keeps his eyes trained on his screen, but he doesn’t really seem to be seeing it.
“I mean, I do a lot of this for me,” he admits. “I have a lot that I want to do, and I know my youth won’t last forever. But even when I want to take a break, I keep going because I want to give it to them.”
You sit in contemplative silence for a moment, before deciding that what Hongjoong needs more than advice right now, is…
He looks up in surprise, only to find you patiently smiling over at him.
“You’re a smart man—you know they would want you to sleep more than they would want you to get this song done overnight. If you won’t sleep for you, then at least sleep for them.”
He stares at you for a long moment.
His fingers rest lightly on the keyboard, unmoving.
“Just—” he starts, then stops himself, lips pressing together. He exhales through his nose, a quiet sound that borders on a laugh. “I keep telling myself that I’m almost done.”
You tilt your head slightly. “Are you?”
He glances back at the screen, eyes scanning over the half empty track, notes stacked on notes detailing what needs to be done in production. His shoulders sag slightly as truth settles in.
The word comes out softer than he probably means it to.
To his relief, you don’t say I told you so. You don’t scold him. You just nod, accepting the answer like it’s enough.
“That’s okay,” you say. “You can save it.”
Hongjoong hesitates, thumb tapping against the edge of his laptop. “I hate stopping in the middle.”
“I know.” You offer a small smile. “But you don’t actually stop thinking when you sleep. Sometimes things make more sense when we wake up.”
He watches you for a second, then finally, slowly, his hand moves.
The laptop lid lowers, and then shuts. He sets it aside, leaning back into the couch with a long exhale, head tipping back against the cushion. His eyes flutter shut for a second before opening again, unfocused.
“God,” he mutters. “I don’t think I realized how tired I was.”
You stand, grabbing a small container of makeup wipes from your bag. “Sit still.”
He blinks up at you, confused but compliant. “What are you—?”
“Helping,” you reply simply, already kneeling in front of him. “Unless you want to sleep with makeup on.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “You’re very bossy for someone younger than me.”
“You’re very compliant for a captain,” you shoot back gently, and he can’t help but laugh, endeared.
You’re careful as you reach up with a wipe in hand, gently brushing it over his cheek, swiping foundation off with it. “Sorry, it’s cold,” you apologize a little too late, face focused. He laughs, but stays still.
“I thought makeup wipes were bad at getting makeup off,” he says softly, filling the silence.
You nod. “You’re right, it doesn’t compare to double cleansing.. But it’s better than nothing, especially if you can’t find the motivation to wash your face.”
He hums, accepting the simple explanation. Then, he speaks again.
“They’re my happiness,” he whispers, unable to keep the tightness from his voice. “If they aren’t happy, I can’t be happy either. So… I do it for them, but selfishly, I do it for myself, too.”
“But you’re their happiness too, Hongjoong-ssi,” you insist, pausing your ministrations to meet his eyes, black liner smudged down his cheeks. “If you burn out, they’ll all feel it. And if it gets to be too much, I bet you they’d feel more hurt by you keeping it to yourself than they would if you relied on them to help.” You gently boop his nose, lightening your tone. “Trusting them isn’t selfish. I may not know you all too well yet, but I do know that offering your trust will give them far more than whatever you can give them through work.”
He’s stunned silent at that, and you gently remove the makeup from his eyes and lips, offering him some moisturizer and patting it into his cheeks to keep him from lifting a tired finger. You finish up with a content hum, putting everything back in your bag.
“You ought to get some sleep,” you say softly, watching his eyes struggle to stay open.
You smile, laying out a blanket and patting the cushions, prompting him to lay down. He does without putting up a fight, letting you slide a pillow under his head. You tuck him in with two other blankets, not wanting him to get cold overnight. “There we go, all done.”
He smiles, eyes sparkling. “Thank you, Y/N-ah.”
You hum, willing yourself not to coo at the precious sight of him wrapped up and cozy. “I’ll leave you to get some sleep, Hongjoong-ssi.”
You laugh softly, patting his shoulder. “Goodnight, Oppa.”
He seems to relax at that, and his eyes drift closed. It only takes a second before they snap open again. You raise an eyebrow.
“Y/N-ah… I thought you didn’t have a car. Isn’t public transport closed at this hour?”
Your heart warms at his consideration. “It’s not too far, so I usually just walk. I don’t mind.”
He blinks, genuinely dumbfounded at that. You’re sure if he wasn’t on the verge of falling asleep he would scold you. “Y/N-ah.”
He sighs. “That’s so unsafe, and you know it.”
You open your mouth to reassure him, but he shakes his head.
“It’s literally freezing outside. And it’s dark. And dangerous.”
You exhale, tucking your hair back. “I can call an uber…?” It’s expensive and therefore not your first choice, but he still shakes his head.
“Just stay, Y/N-ah. There’s plenty of room. And blankets. You can sleep on the other couch.”
You think it over for a moment, and decide that it won’t be worth the trouble to argue with him over it. Plus, you’re tired, and the thought of curling up just a few feet away is undeniably enticing.
“Alright. I’ll work for another hour and then I’ll get to sleep, okay?”
Hongjoong seems satisfied at that, and rolls over to lay on his stomach, getting comfortable. You situate yourself on the other couch, propping up your tablet, before realizing Hongjoong is still watching you. You tilt your head.
“What’s on your mind, hm?”
He seems surprised you noticed, and takes a few moments to think. Tentatively, he permits himself to voice his thoughts, voice not much louder than a whisper. “Sannie… he said that you’re okay with cuddling.”
You smile, feeling your heart pick up pace. “He’s correct. Do you want me to cuddle with you, Hongjoong-oppa?”
He blushes, incredibly shy. “M-maybe not that. But could…” he hesitates, then shakes his head. “Nevermind.”
You shake your head, standing up and moving closer, sitting on his couch near to wear his head is resting. “It’s alright, silly. Tell me what you’d like. The worst I can say is no.”
He bites his lip, ears bright pink. It takes him a moment, but he manages to get his voice working. “C-could you just… rub my back for a little while?”
You think you could die happy right there. His face, bare, squished up against a pillow, and just so adorable, is impossible to resist. You release the slight aggression you got from his cuteness with a breathy chuckle, keeping your voice gentle, not wanting to interrupt his moment of vulnerability.
You kneel on the floor beside him, gently sliding your hand up his back over the blankets, then back down again. The movement is repetitive, soothing you and most certainly him too. He lets out a breath, some of the tension seeping out from his shoulders.
“S-sorry…” he whispers after a moment. “I don’t usually like physical touch very much. But my mom used to do this when I was younger to put me to sleep. I feel too old to ask her now, but it still feels really nice.”
You shake your head, tutting under your breath. “Don’t ever apologize for something like this, hm? I’m happy to help.”
He hums as you softly drag your dull nails down his back, eyes drooping. “Thank you, Y/N-ah…”
You don’t stop the coo from coming this time, letting it slip out under your breath. You’ve only known these boys for a few weeks, and you don’t get to speak to them too often. And yet, such an intimate gesture feels so natural with him. Maybe it would be scary, if it didn’t feel so nice.
“Anytime,” you whisper back, and you mean it.
Seonghwa wakes with a groan, rolling over to block out the blaring of his alarm. He takes a moment and tries—really tries—to gather up some sort of motivation to get up. Finding none, he turns his head to Hongjoong’s side of the room, calling out for him, voice raspy from disuse. “Hongjoong-ah~”
He waits, and hearing no reply, sighs and calls for him again. “Hongjoooong~”
Still hearing nothing, he sighs, sitting up and turning the alarm off himself. He slips out of bed and moves over to Hongjoong’s, rubbing his eyes awake. He frowns at the sight of an empty bed, concern panging in his chest.
It’s not the first time Hongjoong hasn’t come home at night. Whenever he is particularly tied up at work, he’ll find a way to just… keep going. It’s frustrating, to say the least. He tries so hard to take care of Hongjoong, but he can’t do anything about Hongjoong not taking care of himself.
To Seonghwa, there’s nothing more upsetting.
He frowns, deciding to give Hongjoong a call, at the very least. He sits on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed, lifting his phone. He opens up his messages, and to his surprise, he has one from Y/N. It’s rare for her to private message anyone. Curiosity piqued, he opens her message—and freezes.
A picture of Hongjoong is sent, enlarged in the chat. He’s fast asleep, wrapped in blankets, a pillow comfortably propping up his neck and supporting his head. A small smile graces his features, no sign of stress tensing his face. Beneath it is a message, sent the night before.
‘Don’t worry too much, Seonghwa-ssi. I got him to sleep at a good time. Rest well! >u<’
Seonghwa laughs, glancing over a few spelling mistakes, knowing your Korean isn’t yet perfect. “Cute,” he murmurs to himself, something warm settling in his chest. He saves the photo to his phone before shutting it off, deciding to let Hongjoong sleep rather than call him.
Seonghwa still doesn’t like when Hongjoong doesn’t come home at night. But if you’re there to take care of him, he supposes it can’t be so bad.
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Chapter 7: In progress ;)
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