Work Text:
Hongjoong flexed his wrist, hearing multiple bones crack after hours of sitting at his desk. A glance at the time on his computer showed that it was 3 am, the led display suddenly burning in his eyes in the otherwise dark room. It had been 5 hours since Seonghwa had gone home and asked him not to stay too late. Hongjoong blinked away the blurriness in his eyes and focused back on the track in front of him.
He was being nitpicky; there was no time crunch and he doubted that any of his members could pick up on the miniscule adjustments he was making. Still, it seemed almost impossible to stop his hands from fixing the sound levels and tempos.
Taking stock of his body, Hongjoong realized his mouth was dry, remembering how he finished his water before Seonghwa left, and felt the stiffness of his body and the emptiness of his stomach. He shifted his legs and winced at the usually comfortable chair under his hips.
Seonghwa had even asked if he wanted to eat a late lunch with him before he went home, but Hongjoong had declined, barely hearing the offer as he was tunnel visioned on his work. It probably would have helped to get out of his office and stretch his legs a bit, but he hadn’t even realized how hyper focused he was until his stomach growled for the first time after also missing dinner.
It was a blessing sometimes, to be able to sit down at his desk and forget the time while he became absorbed in his work. He had finished many albums that way, neglecting his body until he woke up at dawn, stomach cramping in hunger. It also had its downsides, like the nights he didn’t have any reason to stay so late but still found himself glued to his seat.
He just had to make the transition a little bit smoother and then he could pack it up for the day, but once he finished that part he could also fix the tail end of the verse, and while he was at it he forgot to check the second verse, and so on. Each task would snowball into the other until he forgot about going home all together and another half hour had passed.
Seonghwa had long since given up coming back to the company to drag Hongjoong home, and recently his reminder texts had also ceased. He figured Seonghwa had to be tired of Hongjoong not listening to him. It wasn’t that he was on some leader power trip and didn’t want to take Seonghwa’s advice, time just seemed to not exist when he started working on a project.
He checked the time again. 3:38 am. When it reached 3:45, then he would shut down his computer. Unless he wasn’t done with this segment. He swallowed again, the dry scrape of his throat making him uneasily aware of how he could have gone home hours ago. Maybe he could have seen Seonghwa before he went to bed. He was in too deep for it to matter anyways. What difference would 20 more minutes make, either way he would wake up painfully tired in the morning.
He wished Seonghwa would come back for him, like he did in the beginning, worried about the amount of sleep he would get or if he had remembered to eat dinner. The worry was nice, and sometimes having someone else in the room was all he needed to stop his one-track mind.
There were other times that he had rudely ignored Seonghwa when he did come to visit him, which probably only pushed them farther apart. It was embarrassing to come to and realize he wasted precious time that he could have spent bonding with his members, and it made him defensive, once stubbornly claiming that it was his work, and work was more important than being at home. He regretted saying that immediately after it left his lips, even before Seonghwa had frowned at him and wordlessly ended the conversation.
So sleepless, distant nights in his studio were sometimes what he deserved. He couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself again if any of the members were to interrupt his flow.
Twisting to crack his back, Hongjoong felt a twinge of pain along his spine with the cascading pop of bones. His groan was surprisingly loud in the otherwise silent room. When he turned back to his computer, a pop-up was covering the screen, asking when he wanted to install updates. His hand instinctively moved to postpone the restart, but he left the cursor hovering over the button, hesitating. Another wave of hunger hit his stomach.
Wait until tomorrow. Remind me in 1 hour. Install in 5 minutes. Carefully, Hongjoong moved his mouse over to the third option, as if losing focus would mean he’d be stuck at his desk all night. With a deep breath that pushed at the soreness in his shoulders, Hongjoong clicked, and then quickly saved and exited his project, closing every open window until he was staring at his empty desktop.
He pulled his hands off of his keyboard and mouse, trapping them between his legs. With his hands in his lap, he stared at the default background and waited for five minutes to pass. He still felt out of his body, head still running over all of the edits he could have made. He took off his headphones and wiggled his sore ears and then the screen turned blue, a spinning circle indicating the computer restart was beginning.
Hongjoong waited until the screen turned off and then back on to show a progress bar of queued updates before getting up and collecting his stuff. He had a mildly long walk back to the dorm, but the trip was familiar to him, having made the trip in the dark many times. He couldn’t bother his manager by asking for a ride home at such an obscene hour, and at this time of year the chilly weather even helped wake his body up from hours of sedentary work.
As he neared the dorm, Hongjoong couldn’t decide if he wanted his roommate to still be awake or not. He likely wouldn’t be, as per usual, and Hongjoong wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, but at the same time, the dark, empty streets were making him feel lonely. If Seonghwa was still awake, maybe he could muster up the energy for a conversation, if only to make the achy feeling in his heart go away.
The few flights of stairs leading up to his floor made Hongjoong sweat despite the cool air he had just left, and he tried to calm down his panting when he entered the silent apartment. The common area was dark, the fan of light he brought in from the hallway disappearing as he shut the door behind him. The jeans he was wearing weren’t the most comfortable for sleeping on the couch, but he would have to make do if he didn’t want to disturb Seonghwa’s sleep.
Quietly stepping around the creaky spots in the hallway, Hongjoong made his way to the bathroom, but a soft reflection on the floor caught his eye. There was a light shining out from under the door to his and Seonghwa’s shared bedroom. It was 4:25 in the morning, according to his phone. There was no way Seonghwa was still awake, but he still leaned in closer to the door, listening for sounds of movement. There were none, so Seonghwa had probably fallen asleep without turning the light off.
Hongjoong lingered outside of the door for a moment longer, wondering if he should go in and turn the light off or pretend he hadn’t noticed and go back to the couch. He hoped Seonghwa hadn’t been waiting up for him. His curiosity made the decision for him, and he pushed the door open as silently as he could, revealing the culprit of the light to be Seonghwa’s desk lamp, its yellow glow illuminating his sleeping roommate. He was slumped against his pillow on the headboard behind him, neck looking uncomfortably tilted and his laptop still open on the bed sheets beside his covered legs.
Gently placing his jacket and keys at the foot of the bed, Hongjoong reached over Seonghwa to close his laptop and place it on his desk. Hongjoong turned at the sound of a groan from the bed and watched as Seonghwa stretched his neck and blinked his eyes. They silently contemplated each other, Hongjoong trying to find something to say that wouldn’t be hypocritical of his own sleep habits.
“What time is it?” Seonghwa spoke first.
“Around 4:30,” Hongjoong swallowed, waiting for Seonghwa to scold him. It didn’t happen. Instead Seonghwa sat up farther and crossed his legs under the blankets, patting the bed in front of him. “Let me go wash up first,” Hongjoong tried.
“It’s fine,” Seonghwa said, leaving little room for argument. Something in his caring tone made Hongjoong comply, remembering the loneliness he felt on the way home. Seonghwa’s bed was miles comfier than his office chair, even if his back was still aching.
“Turn around,” Seonghwa used his hands to maneuver Hongjoong into facing away from him so he could reach his shoulders for a massage, the first light touch making Hongjoong give in to Seonghwa. “Did you eat dinner?”
Hongjoong shook his head and hummed in disagreement. Seonghwa’s hands rose up to the back of his neck, thumbs pressing along the sides of his spine with firm, consistent pressure.
“So you’ve been sitting at your desk since I left?” He wasn’t being snide, genuinely asking in a way that made Hongjoong disappointed in himself that he hadn’t gotten up at least once.
“Yeah,” he conceded. Seonghwa’s gentle hum invited him to say more. His fingers, done with his neck, started deeply prodding his shoulders in a way that usually made Hongjoong flinch away. “I didn’t realize how quickly time was passing.” It felt like a lame excuse so he tacked on. “I hope you weren’t waiting up for me.”
“I was a little bit,” Seonghwa admitted, “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to sleep on the couch. I guess I was a little more tired than I thought, but still, I’m glad I caught you.”
“Me too.” It made Hongjoong relieved to hear that Seonghwa wanted to talk to him as well, contradicting the part of him that was waiting for Seonghwa to stop caring about him.
“You’re so tense,” Seonghwa mused, focusing both hands on a knot, “What are you even working on?”
“Nothing important,” Hongjoong sighed, hearing the disappointment in his own voice, “I was just nitpicking some extra tracks. They’re not even gonna get used for a while.”
“Then why? I’d go crazy if I stayed in that room all night.”
“I do feel kind of crazy and non-existent when I stay so late.” He wasn’t sure how to put the feeling into words. His inadequate description lingered in the air, making Hongjoong grow frustrated with himself.
“What was on your mind?” Seonghwa almost whispered.
Hongjoong shrugged. “Nothing. I just couldn’t help myself. I get tunnel-visioned and even when I want to stop I feel like I can’t.”
Seonghwa’s silence made him think that his roommate didn’t get it. Hongjoong didn’t really get it either. He just felt tired. Seonghwa’s methodic hands on his back were putting him to sleep, drawing out the exhaustion that had been ignored for too long.
“Being here, at home, is always better than being at work.”
“Come home more often,” Seonghwa pleaded, voice softening with his own sleepiness, “I’ll give you more massages if it convinces you.”
“I just get stuck,” Hongjoong tried again to explain, “I want your massages. Sometimes I sit at my desk and worry about you waiting up for me, or I tell myself to just go home while it’s still early so I can make up for all the times I’m not home but my body doesn’t let me. It’s like I’m begging myself to just get up or move or anything and none of it is working.” He didn’t realize how whiny his voice was becoming until he felt his throat catch, forcing him to pause and swallow down the lump.
Seonghwa’s hands paused their massage to wrap around Hongjoong’s chest from behind, scooching forward to hold him tighter. The room was so silent, similar to Hongjoong’s office, but so much safer. Seonghwa’s warmth around his torso seemed to wash away the lonely hours Hongjoong had spent lost in thought, rhythmic breaths against his collarbone slowing down the constant dialogue in his mind.
“I’m not mad at you,” Seonghwa mumbled against his neck. “I don’t want you to worry so much over nothing.”
“I know,” Hongjoong softly answered.
“Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
Hongjoong nodded, trying to organize a thought from the placated mush Seonghwa always turned his brain into when he got him to relax.
“Are you tired?” Seonghwa asked, hands softly patting his stomach.
“Yeah, I’m ready to go to bed now,” Hongjoong answered. Seonghwa slowly released him from his embrace to let Hongjoong get up and grab pajamas.
When Hongjoong was done changing, Seonghwa was waiting for him on one side of the bed, leaving room for Hongjoong to slip in. He turned off the desk lamp and then crawled under the sheets, already warmed by Seonghwa’s body heat. There was no way he could have refused the cuddles, Seonghwa was always ready to show his love through physical touch, especially after having a serious talk. He stayed awake just long enough to feel Seonghwa wiggle in closer behind him and drape an arm over his body and then he was asleep, Seonghwa following quickly after him.
Despite the show he usually put on of hating skinship, Hongjoong couldn’t deny the way he felt abundantly well rested when he opened his eyes to the sun-lit bedroom, glad that he didn’t have a schedule so that he could pretend to sleep for longer. Judging by the way Seonghwa’s thumb gently rubbed over Hongjoong’s waist, he could assume Seonghwa was doing the same.