Work Text:
Darkness.
Hyunwoo scrambles for his phone, pulls it from his back pocket and hits the flashlight feature, illuminating the small recording booth in a tinny, artificial glow. He frowns, eyeing towards the dark double mirror at the corner of the room - where Jooheon waits just beyond in the booth- and gives the power a moment to trigger back on. He frowns as seconds tick to a minute, the minutes grow longer and he reaches up, removing his headphones from his ears just as the door swings in. Jooheon is also using his phone as a flashlight and it casts an eerie glow back on the producer’s face.
“Apparently it’s all of Gangnam,” he says simply, sighs, clearly feels the same frustration Hyunwoo does. Today has been a particularly productive recording day, each note ringing true when Hyunwoo sings them, receiving green light after green light from the booth. Clearly that luck has finally come to an end.
“The whole district?” he clarifies, eyebrow raising. It’s unusual, the first time it’s ever happened since he began working at Newton Entertainment’s Gangnam office.
“The storm,” Jooheon sighs, peering down at his phone as he receives a text. He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. It’s already past midnight and they had intended to only work until seven, but their rate of success had been too addictive and rare to turn down.
“Look, we only have one track left. It can wait until tomorrow,” the man reasons and Hyunwoo agrees. He has other practicing he can do and, if the emergency generator never kicks on in the building, he also wouldn’t argue with a decent night of rest. With comeback preparations (his third solo album is quickly approaching), he hasn’t taken much time to himself. He can go home, cobble something together for dinner, and maybe get some rest before his 5am alarm to go to the gym. Shrugging, he hangs his headphones over the mic stand, leaving the small booth to collect his belongings from the sofa behind the production board. As he shrugs on his windbreaker, he glances back at Jooheon.
“What are your plans?”
Jooheon is also shrugging on his coat and holds up his bag. Hyunwoo knows it contains his laptop, which he is inseparable with, “Still going to work on some of this at home. At least until the battery wears out or the lights come back. Whichever happens first.”
Hyunwoo nods and a comfortable silence descends between them. Jooheon leaves first and as Hyunwoo does one last visual sweep of the darkened studio, his phone chirps, nearly startling him enough to make it drop it.
A message from a ‘Seokkie’ is protected under facelock and he finds himself having to physically key in his passcode when his phone can’t verify his face in the darkness.
Seokkie
Where are you?
Hyunwoo frowns. Hoseok should be on his way to Daegu right about now for a fansign, so the text is a little out of place. He remembers the travel plans because they had come out of nowhere, forcing them to cancel the rare plans they had already made together. But Hoseok’s group’s new album had come out a few weeks ago and it appears his company had decided to tack on one last straggler of a fansign before their promotions ended.
YOU
My company.
But the power’s out.
Hyunwoo’s halfway down the hall when he gets a response.
Seokkie
I know.
You still upstairs?
Hyunwoo frowns at the text as he elbows open the door to the stairwell, feeling fortunate his company’s building is only a few stories tall and the emergency flood lights have triggered when the power failed. An employee whom he recognizes as one of the stylists for the company’s idol group passes him on her way, bowing her head slightly (which he quickly returns).
Another text.
Seokkie
I’m outside.
Hyunwoo’s heart rate immediately skyrockets. Outside of his company and halfway to Daegu are two completely different things.
He quickly starts down the stairs, finally turning off the flashlight on his phone and depositing it into the inner pocket of his coat, knowing the last thing he needs is to have it destroyed by the rain pouring outside. A few more employees are on the stairs with him and, once he reaches the first floor landing and main lobby, the last stragglers of the night are fanning out their umbrellas and disappearing into the night. He nods his head to the security guard, pulls up his hood, and steps out of the front doors, peering around into the darkness. It isn’t until he’s taken the stairs carefully down to street level that an arm reaches out, pulls him into a patch of shadow the emergency lights can’t quite reach.
“Hey there,” Hoseok says and his smile is contagious, somehow gleaming even more brightly in the darkness. He reaches forward and pulls Hyunwoo closer, under the safety of the umbrella he holds in his hand, the rain making loud staccato cracks against the fabric above their heads. At being so close - still inches apart but closer than they’ve been in what feels like months, Hyunwoo begins looking around in a panic. With the death of the lights streaming from office building windows and streetlights and the distant red-flashes of off-grid traffic lights, he knows they’re safe, but he’s someone who lives in the spotlight, knows nothing but being illuminated, can’t shake the fear of being seen.
Hoseok is newly debuted, only a couple of years into his career with his idol group NO.Mercy and while he has so much more to fear than Hyunwoo (a seasoned soloist with Bongsangs under his belt), it’s always been clear he pays that fear no second thought. It’s something Hyunwoo envies a little.
“Hey, hey,” Hoseok says quietly, warmly when he sees the panic in his eyes. He reaches up slowly, gently runs the back of his hand over Hyunwoo’s cheek and smiles again, “We’re safe. No one can tell it’s us.”
That’s Hoseok in a nutshell. Warm. Reassuring. Impossibly and eternally optimistic, a perfect mirror to the trap of practicality Hyunwoo often finds himself falling into. It’s harder for him to be spontaneous, harder to deviate from the order he has set for himself, the rules. But Hoseok has helped with that. Hoseok’s near-contagious enthusiasm and optimism is impossible to keep from falling into.
Hyunwoo eyes never leaving Hoseok’s, “I thought… what about Daegu?”
Hoseok laughs a little under his breath, shakes his head, then motions at the storm around them.
“The weather’s much worse down the road,” he explains, finally looking away to watch the sheets of rain that pour just beyond, disappear into the darkness, “So it got cancelled and we turned around.”
Hyunwoo nods. This is hard for him, being so close to Hoseok and feeling like he can’t reach out, like he cannot allow himself that comfort. All they have are their secret rendezvous: abandoned hallways at music shows when their promotion schedules cross, hasty 5am kisses in the locker room of the gym they both happen to frequent, the few times Hoseok is able to steal away to Hyunwoo’s apartment, staying only as long as he won’t be missed.
It’s no way to live.
No way to love.
But it’s what they have. And when it comes to Hoseok, Hyunwoo would rather have these small, scattered moments than none at all.
“When did you get back into town?” Hyunwoo asks and realizes Hoseok can’t hear him over the roar of the rain and repeats himself.
“Twenty minutes ago?”
The implications floor Hyunwoo. Clearly Hoseok had slipped out of his group’s van and immediately trekked from his dorm to Hyunwoo’s company. He also realizes what it says about his own work ethic, that Hoseok knew he’d be at work at midnight on a Thursday.
“Isn’t your manager going to know you’re missing? Your members?”
“They know,” Hoseok says simply and that just causes a new spike of panic to work its way up his spine, but Hoseok is laughing, shaking his head.
“Not you, they don’t know it’s you,” he reassures and Hyunwoo believes him, realized in some whipped way he’d believe anything Hoseok says, “But I’m pretty sure they know I have someone. I spend every second of my day with them. They’re starting to see through my excuses.”
Hyunwoo supposes it’s easier to be a soloist (fewer people to keep eyes on him), but his level of fame is also its own double-edged sword. His company is a bit more strict with his private outings and he’s definitely more likely than Hoseok to get recognized on the street.
“I don’t mind,” Hoseok adds and Hyunwoo meets his eyes again, tips his head to the side.
Hoseok elaborates, “I don’t mind if they know. I don’t mind if they know I’m in love.”
“But they can’t know with whom,” Hyunwoo says quietly and Hoseok nods a little sadly in agreement.
“...Yeah, they can’t know with who.”
A pause. If there’s one thing Hyunwoo hates, it’s seeing Hoseok frown, seeing the light die from his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve had time-and-time again: what it would be like if people knew, if they could be honest, open. But with their jobs, with where they live… it’s not possible. It would destroy them both.
Hyunwoo looks around at the near-abandoned streets and gently nudges Hoseok with his elbow.
“Let’s take a walk,” he says, smiles and it reaches his eyes, makes them little crescents, “We never get to do that together.”
He offers Hoseok his arm and the younger man stares for a moment before he lights up, lacing his arm with Hyunwoo, careful to keep the umbrella above both of their heads. It feels good, natural, and Hyunwoo can’t seem to stop himself from staring down at the way their arms are tangled, the way Hoseok’s fingers scramble for his own and lace together.
They take off down the sidewalk together and Hyunwoo feels warm in how normal it feels, how right it feels to have Hoseok at his side even when the world insists on saying it’s wrong. Hoseok leans over, rests his head on Hyunwoo’s shoulder as they walk and when the older man glances down, he can see his eyes are slowly, sleepily closing a bit. But he’s smiling, clearly content. Hyunwoo reaches over, takes the umbrella from his hand, makes sure he keeps Hoseok dry even at the expense of one of his shoulders getting rained on.
“Your promotions are almost over,” Hyunwoo points out quietly as they walk and Hoseok makes a small grunt of confirmation. It hurts him sometimes, seeing how hard Hoseok works, but he remembers his rookie days, remembers when constant work was the only work. Maybe with the end of promotions, he’ll get a little rest. Maybe Hyunwoo will be able to see-
“And yours are about to begin,” Hoseok says a bit sleepily and that kills one dream Hyunwoo has before he can even fantasize it. Seeing Hoseok during his own promotions will be nearly impossible and shortly after they conclude, Hoseok’s group is setting off on a world tour shortly after. There is no good time.
There never is.
“We’ll find time,” Hyunwoo promises, firmly, and hopes Hoseok believes it because he certainly doesn’t. In the two years they’ve been together, almost as long as Hoseok has been an idol, there have been instances where they’ve gone months without seeing one another. Hyunwoo isn’t sure he can handle another break like that.
Hoseok shivers at a violent rush of wind that rushes by, nuzzling closer to Hyunwoo and peering up at him from where he still has his head rested on his shoulder at a bit of an awkward angle.
“We will,” he agrees after a moment and smiles and yet again, that smile is contagious and Hyunwoo feels his stomach flutter anxiously.
“Maybe you can come to the studio someday soon. I’m almost done recording my newest album and I know you’re interested in producing. Jooheon would probably love to- Hey!” Hyunwoo is cut off as a particularly rough gust of wind rushes by them, ripping their umbrella clean from his fingers and sending it spiralling down the street. Without a word they both take off after it, cold rain stinging their eyes. Each moment they get close to it, another gust seems to blow it further yet and it doesn’t take long before they’re both laughing, occasionally leaping at it in an attempt to pin it down and failing, puddles exploding beneath their feet. Hyunwoo can feel his hood fall back, the rain beginning to plaster his hair to face, streak down his windbreaker. Hoseok is a little worse for wear, just wearing jeans and a hoodie which are both quickly taking on water.
But it’s light and perfect and Hyunwoo finds himself wishing he could somehow record this moment, keep it forever, keep it for the moments where things feel impossible, for the moments his mind makes him wonder if Hoseok is even real or just his work-exhausted brain.
Finally Hoseok makes a particularly impressive leap, toes catching the edge of the umbrella and pinning to to the pavement. In the process, however, he manages to rip a massive hole in it. He stares at it blankly for a moment, bending over to pick up and and show Hyunwoo. A moment elapses before they’re both cracking up again, Hoseok nearly wheezing and bent over, shaking the umbrella in most frustration as he closes it, stares at it now that it’s useless.
“Pitch it,” Hyunwoo says, shrugging and pointing towards a nearby bin. Hoseok does, shaking his head at his luck as he deposits it, turns back to Hyunwoo and finds they’re now a couple of blocks from Hyunwoo’s company, on a smaller back street. They seem to be the only ones around, the rest of the street dark and abandoned as people seek refuge from the storm and blackout within their homes. Hyunwoo peers around, frowns, contemplates what to do next as the rain continues to fall.
Suddenly Hoseok is impossibly close and Hyunwoo shivers, not at the freezing rainwater that pelts him from above, but rather the warmth that seems to radiate off the other man. He wants to reach forward, envelop him, cross out whatever line that defines Hoseok as Hoseok and himself as Hyunwoo. He only gets as far as a twitch of his fingers, his nails gently skimming the sleeve of the Hoseok’s hoodie.
Hoseok, however, clearly has no reservations. He steps forward, slotting himself against Hyunwoo, arms skimming his sides to loop around him. He watches with dark eyes hidden behind rain-slick hair. It’s comfortable and perfect and despite its simplicity, leaves Hyunwoo feeling it is here, not the stage, not on sets, that he best fits. He knows how well they fit together, how perfectly crafted by the universe they seem to be, but their embraces have always been quick and clandestine and the thing he hates most: forbidden. The paths of their companies seldom cross, comebacks and tours staggered in a way that sometimes Hyunwoo wonders, wonders if his manager (and management as a whole) know and make efforts to keep them apart. A scandal would kill his career no matter his popularity. And for Hoseok, who hasn’t even cemented his name yet… it would decimate him.
“We can’t,” Hyunwoo whispers quietly, can’t look away from those eyes. Even in the blackout, the planes of Hoseok’s features glow with the soft glint of emergency lights and the gleaming moon. His eyes seem to glitter, take the place of the stars hidden away behind the clouds above their heads, glimmer in a way that puts them to shame.
“Someone will see,” Hyunwoo mumbles, though half-hearted now as Hoseok’s fingers lightly tease up and down the small of his back, their faces now very close. He gently bumps their noses together, nuzzles him, and Hyunwoo feels butterflies in his stomach.
“Yeah, but right now we’re not stars. We’re just two shadows in the dark,” Hoseok breathes and Hyunwoo can feel the ghost of his lips, tries to resist, and finds himself leaning forward, arms finally encircling Hoseok and holding him close. Hoseok is shivering, soaked to the bone with the deluge falling from the sky, and Hyunwoo realizes he himself is too. But somehow intertwined like this, he feels almost too warm.
It’s like a drug.
Hoseok to him is a drug. He’s warm and all-encompassing and leaves him grasping for himself, for his level-headedness and common sense, leaves him failing to find them but finding something better. Hoseok is his intoxicant. But Hoseok without consequences, Hoseok in his entirety, Hoseok without fear-
That’s a whole different addiction entirely.
Kissing Hoseok is, as always, electric and Hyunwoo almost feels himself draw away in surprise, the feeling of lightning tickling his lips. Hoseok’s skin has been chilled by rainwater, soaked since he tossed the umbrella away, but when he opens his mouth a little, lets Hyunwoo in, he moans at the warmth he finds there. If possible he holds him tighter, hand moving to fist in Hoseok’s hair, slipping a little in the wet locks. Beneath their useless wet clothes, Hyunwoo can feel the hints of Hoseok’s warmth and he groans a little, biting at the man’s lip as the muscles in his arms subconsciously pull him closer yet.
He hates hiding.
He hates pretending.
He hates passing Hoseok at events and smiling, innocently like a seasoned artist to a newbie, and locking away the infinite other things that connect them together.
Hyunwoo has never wanted anything the way he wants Hoseok, never been so taunted by something he knows the universe won’t let him have. And it’s desperate and dangerous he knows, but he would give anything to have him, anything to make this not one fleeting moment in the rain, but one permanent blackout, one permanent step away from a life in the spotlight. Hyunwoo breathes out shakily, frustrated, and Hoseok pulls away, watching with wise eyes, eyes that say he understands without needing to be told.
“I feel the same way,” Hoseok says simply, kisses gently at Hyunwoo’s lips again but it’s quick, pure. His eyes never break their gaze, “But one day. Maybe one day things will change. I’ll wait for it. I’ll wait for you.”
Hyunwoo just stares for a moment, unsure what to say, cold and soaked to the bone and just in awe of everything Hoseok is, everything he stands for. In his stillness, Hoseok kisses him again, just a peck, before he reaches up, presses his palm gently to his cheek with warm eyes.
I’ll wait for it. I’ll wait for you.
“I’ll wait for you too,” he finally says quietly and gathers Hoseok into his arms to kiss him again, the moon and themselves the only witnesses to their promise.