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Hakyeon was pretty much tired all the time. He woke up every morning with optimism, but he'd never had enough sleep. He spent the day chasing his younger team mates around, and making sure that quiet Taekwoon was all right, in between his own duties, his own practices. At the dorm or the hotel in the evening he'd make sure the others were all all right and eating, and sleeping, and taking care of any niggling injuries before making sure that he was all right, and eating, and sleeping, and taking care of any niggling injuries.
It was a difficult existence because even if the industry hadn't expected perfection of him, he expected perfection of himself, and the others were an extension of himself. They and everything they did had to be perfect, or he took it hard and blamed himself.
It was even more tiring, because through it all, his younger band mates thoroughly enjoyed teasing him, or grumbling at him, or being difficult in general. And unfortunately Hakyeon was not just the leader, he was also eldest, and the one with the strongest mothering tendencies. In other groups sometimes there could be up to three people filling those roles but here in VIXX it all fell on to Hakyeon. Which meant no one was really looking out for him. The second eldest was Taekwoon, and while there were times when Taekwoon spoke up when the kids were going a bit too far, more often than not he was also complaining – usually on screen – about how irritating Hakyeon was.
Hakyeon got it. Really he did. He had an overwhelming personality. He was loud and he was bubbly and he was touchy and he was intelligent and hard working and hard to escape. So the others weren't quiet about letting him know that he was annoying. And he had a pretty thick skin about it.
He needed to.
But every day it was like a thousand papercuts. Every time he went to hug someone and they batted him away. Every time someone told him he was annoying. Every time they didn't do what he asked. Every time someone mentioned the colour of his skin, the thing he was most self conscious about, even though he tried not to be. Every time they belittled his leadership. Every time they teased him.
It wasn't that they weren't good and kind boys, they were and Hakyeon loved them all dearly. But every day he took a thousand papercuts, and after pouring all his energy into loving and caring for them, there were times he didn't have enough left to love and care for himself.
Some nights, when he'd just had enough, he'd go to the bathroom, turn the shower on, and collapse on the floor, leaning against the wall where he could just sit under the stream of water and let it wash away the emptiness that had taken root inside.
Some nights, he'd take himself off and dance. When he was dancing it was hard to have a coherent train of thought, he'd get lost in the movement. He would dance until he couldn't dance any more, and then with exhaustion in his very marrow, crawl into bed for instant and dreamless sleep.
Some nights, and these were the bad ones, he'd reach the tipping point, where it all just became too much, and he couldn't bring himself to do any more but flee. He'd try to plaster a neutral expression on his face, but his face felt like it was made of plastic. He'd retire to his bed, cover his head with his duvet, and cry silently.
On these nights, when he felt worst about himself, when he was at his lowest and he wondered why the brightness and happiness he knew he exuded didn't seem to outweigh his more annoying aspects in the eyes of the others, he missed his family.
He missed his mother and his sisters, people with feminine emotions, who offered him as much love as he gave. He missed having someone to take care of him when he needed it. He was tired of defending himself, he was tired of reminding himself that it was all good natured teasing. He just wanted someone to wrap him up in their arms and let him know that everything would be all right. But he was the most annoying person in the world.
To make these nights even worse, he'd wake up the next morning even more tired than usual. He would awaken feeling like he hadn't slept at all. His face would be puffy and he had bags under his eyes and if he had to make an appearance anywhere, the make up noonas would tut and do their best to make him look pretty.
He'd have no time for shenanigans from the others. On camera he'd perform until he dropped, he'd smile and laugh and do all the things that people who weren't hollow did. Off camera he would control the others with serious words and death glares, and if that still failed, he'd just walk away. He didn't have it in him to herd cats. If they wanted to mess around, they could mess around on their own time.
But... then these dreaded nights, the nights that left him hollow... changed.
They still came. There were still nights when he fled to his bed, and rolled himself into a Hakyeon-filled duvet burrito, nothing left to fuel his patience, nothing to feed his self love. He'd still cry silently, feeling empty and worthless even when his rational mind told him it wasn't so.
But he started to wake in the morning with a sense of peace, feeling like he'd slept for a week. The hollowness inside would be filled with something warm. Something that felt like love. The boys would be a little quieter, a little kinder, a little more cooperative, and Taekwoon more tolerant when Hakyeon tried to show him any affection.
The mornings were like a miracle. Hakyeon wasn't tired, and he didn't miss his family, and his smiles came easily like they usually did. He didn't understand why. He didn't need to understand why. You don't need to understand a miracle. He just appreciated that when he was at his worst, when the storm hit and the lightning carved holes in his heart and the rain pummeled his soul into a sodden mess, in the morning the sun would be shining.
What Hakyeon didn't know, was that Taekwoon always saw the brittle expression on Hakyeon's face, when he felt like it was made of plastic. Taekwoon didn't pretend that he was perfect. He knew that he was a bit odd. He was grateful for the tolerance of his group, and as much as he complained about Hakyeon, he was grateful to be on the receiving end of the love Hakyeon showered him with.
But that didn't make it any easier for him to display it himself.
Hakyeon was so loud and so boisterous and overwhelming, but worse than that, he could interpret all the little gestures Taekwoon gave out with unerring accuracy. So if Taekwoon showed even a little measure of the love he had for Hakyeon, Hakyeon would see it all, and Taekwoon didn't think he could face the typhoon that Hakyeon's love would be.
So he watched when Hakyeon left for lengthy showers, and he watched when Hakyeon danced himself unconscious. When Hakyeon went quiet, and brittle, and didn't have anything left to take care of himself, Taekwoon knew that he was crying, although he made no sound. He knew that on these evenings, Hakyeon slept very deeply, and his dreams were bad.
He didn't know what to do. He wanted to do something, but he just didn't know how to do something that wouldn't leave himself completely exposed in front of Hakyeon's perceptive gaze. Until one evening, when he snuck into the room to check on Hakyeon. He found him whimpering in his sleep, one foot and the top of his head the only parts visible. Taekwoon found himself stroking Hakyeon's head like he was an abandoned puppy, and Hakyeon stilled.
Taekwoon sat, stroking Hakyeon's hair until he grew tired, but Hakyeon quickly became restless when he stopped. In the end Taekwoon just sneaked himself into Hakyeon's bed, and wrapped the other up in his embrace, Hakyeon's head tucked under his chin. Hakyeon, deeply asleep, sighed and his breathing evened out. He slept without another movement for the rest of the night. Taekwoon anticipated voracious teasing from the others in the morning, but he didn't care.
To his surprise, however, he was quietly, cautiously awoken early in the morning, and every morning after, whenever he slept with their depleted leader wrapped in his arms. Carefully he would extricate himself and they would leave Hakyeon sleeping until his alarm finally pulled him out of his dreamless slumber, none the wiser.
Hakyeon looked so soft when he woke those mornings, like he had been sleeping on clouds. So unlike the haggard appearance he had previously borne. Taekwoon found he couldn't stop watching him those mornings; peaceful, calm and gentle. He could feel his mouth curving into a tiny pleased smile, knowing that he had found something he could do for the other that made such a difference.
Taekwoon knew, realistically, that eventually he would be caught. Still, he was startled one such morning when he awoke in the early light to find Hakyeon's dark eyes watching him. Hakyeon regarded him with the single most guileless expression he'd ever seen on the other man's face, an expression of gratitude and love. Taekwoon swallowed thickly. It wasn't an expression he had prepared himself for.
“Taekwoonie...” Hakyeon began, arm beginning to move. Taekwoon knew with horrifying certainty that Hakyeon was going to pinch his cheek and tell him he was adorable.
He pinned Hakyeon's arm back down at his side, and Hakyeon wriggled a little, resisting. Taekwoon huffed an impatient breath as he tucked Hakyeon back under his chin, where he belonged, and wrapped his arms snugly around him.
There was only a momentary pause before Hakyeon breathed a sigh into the hollow of Taekwoon's throat, and became quiet and still.