the distance is relative
alexander/kevin
angst
g
1215 words
"You're two hours early," Kevin hears Xander say the moment the line connects, revelers already starting to cause noisy havoc in the background. "Or one, since you're on Korean time, right?" Kevin merely sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Starts to wonder if calling Xander had been a good idea after all.
"Kevin?"
A more cautious, maybe worried sounding tone now and there's a buzz of Cantonese in the background that Kevin can barely understand as the noise on Xander's end of the line dies away bit by bit, a rushed "No, wait, give me a second I can barely hear where I am now-..." that Kevin answers with a simple "Okay." It's the first word he's spoken since he's gotten offstage, the changing rooms deadly quiet on his end. Eli has retreated to the parking lot to swear the incident out with Dongho, leaving Kevin with a sullen Kiseop who merely looks dully at him before walking out, seeking comfort from people who aren't putting in a half-desperate, half-hopeful international calls to Malaysia.
"Something wrong?" Xander's voice is clearer now and when Kevin closes his eyes, lets himself lie down stretched out on the couch with his feet propped up on one end. Like this, it's easier for him to imagine how Xander might look like right now, leaning against some quiet wall somewhere and picking at whatever outfit he's been harassed into wearing on-stage this time around. In his head, Xander has commandeered the end of a backstage corridor and is curled towards the darker corner, cellphone cradled in one hand. "No, scratch that, something is wrong, isn't it?"
So this is how Kevin ends up hurling his monthly phone bill budget out the window, wondering out loud to Xander just why stage slip ups can happen and why it had to be them this time on New Year's Eve of all events. Why, how, who, so many questions that Kevin wants to demand answers for but simply cannot for the moment under the guise of the polite, albeit wronged performer and Xander listens to all of this with the air of someone who is well versed in Kevinisms, making all the right agreeing sounds at all the right places. "I want to break something," finishes Kevin wearily. Xander goes "Mmm," under his breath and Kevin continues on, "Someone's arm, if possible." Kevin doesn't even bother to ask the obligatory rhetorical question about whether Xander has any idea how long they had practiced to make this stage as close to perfection as possible because Xander obviously knows, has been there and done that. Bought the tacky souvenirs, even.
"And here I thought you were calling me to wish me Happy New Year. Or you know, ask how my own stage went," Xander says when Kevin has wrapped up his tirade against the evil that is known as MBC.
"That as well," adds Kevin as an afterthought and there's an exasperated sort of fondness in his voice. Maybe calling Xander hadn't been that bad an idea after all, since after all this time, Xander is still one of the only people who can say things like this and not have Kevin try to bite his head off...much.
"Just in case you were wondering, my performance went better than yours, even if it was behind a hypermarket instead of you know, on a hundred thousand dollar stage. And in front of audiences amounting to maybe a million, counting the online streamers. Thanks for asking and sending your love and care," says Xander before Kevin can ask him how his stage went, the sarcasm in his words not as biting as it is affectionate. Despite himself, Kevin finds himself smiling when he hears this because he knows Xander is smiling as well, a few thousand miles away and one timezone apart.
"My love and care doesn't ship overseas, just so you know."
"Not even with FedEx?"
"Not even with FedEx."
"Ah, so is that an open invitation for me to come back to Korea to collect it in person, then?"
Kevin stirs at the question, shifting his weight on the couch's upholstery and suddenly very aware of how Xander isn't here right now, even if he had been last year at this exact hour, minute, second. This very heartbeat, if it came down to that. "The invitation is always open," Kevin finally grunts with feeling. "You just never take up my offer on it."
There's a moment of quiet on Xander's end of the line. This is hardly the first time they've talked about this and it's also hardly the first time they've spent New Year's eve in different countries, different timezones, but tonight feels different for some reason. Perhaps it's the fact that they both know that when the next year comes around, they'll still be the same distance apart from each other. No more homecomings to shared dance practices that dissolve into tired rants about choreography, no more 11pm dashes to studio recordings that end with wistful musings about whether this will finally be their next big hit.
No more safety net of knowing when or where they'll see one another again.
"You never asked," Xander says at length and with an inexplicably painful pang, Kevin realizes that Xander is right. He's never asked, just taken it for granted that Xander would come back.
"Well I'm asking now, aren't I?" comes the retort. There is a low laugh on the other end of the line. Fifteen minutes to 2012 on Kevin's side of the world.
"Yes, yes you are," agrees Xander and he's laughing, Kevin picturing him doubled over or maybe leaning against the wall for support. "Pushy, aren't you? I'll look into it, alright?" The last time Kevin had seen Xander was sometime back in late August, the two of them standing with their backs to the road sharing a plate of ddokbokki from a street vendor. It had been dark then, only nearby street lamps lighting the dips, curves of Xander's face and that's the only thing Kevin can remember before the memory unravels. It's been too long for his liking.
"Alright."
Xander has sobered up enough by now to remember that he has to be onstage again in fifteen minutes, rev the crowd up for the remaining one hour or so with the rest of the performers. "I'll call you next year," he teases when Kevin tells him to get off the phone and go get ready. "It's almost next year here," reminds Kevin, opening his eyes just a fraction to stare at the wall clock, it's minute hand already inching towards the very top. 2012 is looming and he supposes if he gets off the phone right now, he can still have barely enough time to go find out where the rest of the members are, maybe take a crack at the soju he's sure their manager has hidden somewhere.
By now, Xander really has to go so Kevin graciously lets him hang up with a rushed "Happy New Year!" that Kevin returns with as much earnestness he can muster. The line disconnects and somewhere outside the building, fireworks are already starting to go off. It's 2012 and Xander is still stuck an hour in the past.
fin.
A/N- so 80% of this was spontaneously written on my phone, I don't really have any idea what happened during Xander's Malaysian countdown thing or the MBC fiasco so the timeline is probably all wonky and…stuff. Right. Oops. Does anyone still even ship these two? and uhm HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D
angst
g
1215 words
"You're two hours early," Kevin hears Xander say the moment the line connects, revelers already starting to cause noisy havoc in the background. "Or one, since you're on Korean time, right?" Kevin merely sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Starts to wonder if calling Xander had been a good idea after all.
"Kevin?"
A more cautious, maybe worried sounding tone now and there's a buzz of Cantonese in the background that Kevin can barely understand as the noise on Xander's end of the line dies away bit by bit, a rushed "No, wait, give me a second I can barely hear where I am now-..." that Kevin answers with a simple "Okay." It's the first word he's spoken since he's gotten offstage, the changing rooms deadly quiet on his end. Eli has retreated to the parking lot to swear the incident out with Dongho, leaving Kevin with a sullen Kiseop who merely looks dully at him before walking out, seeking comfort from people who aren't putting in a half-desperate, half-hopeful international calls to Malaysia.
"Something wrong?" Xander's voice is clearer now and when Kevin closes his eyes, lets himself lie down stretched out on the couch with his feet propped up on one end. Like this, it's easier for him to imagine how Xander might look like right now, leaning against some quiet wall somewhere and picking at whatever outfit he's been harassed into wearing on-stage this time around. In his head, Xander has commandeered the end of a backstage corridor and is curled towards the darker corner, cellphone cradled in one hand. "No, scratch that, something is wrong, isn't it?"
So this is how Kevin ends up hurling his monthly phone bill budget out the window, wondering out loud to Xander just why stage slip ups can happen and why it had to be them this time on New Year's Eve of all events. Why, how, who, so many questions that Kevin wants to demand answers for but simply cannot for the moment under the guise of the polite, albeit wronged performer and Xander listens to all of this with the air of someone who is well versed in Kevinisms, making all the right agreeing sounds at all the right places. "I want to break something," finishes Kevin wearily. Xander goes "Mmm," under his breath and Kevin continues on, "Someone's arm, if possible." Kevin doesn't even bother to ask the obligatory rhetorical question about whether Xander has any idea how long they had practiced to make this stage as close to perfection as possible because Xander obviously knows, has been there and done that. Bought the tacky souvenirs, even.
"And here I thought you were calling me to wish me Happy New Year. Or you know, ask how my own stage went," Xander says when Kevin has wrapped up his tirade against the evil that is known as MBC.
"That as well," adds Kevin as an afterthought and there's an exasperated sort of fondness in his voice. Maybe calling Xander hadn't been that bad an idea after all, since after all this time, Xander is still one of the only people who can say things like this and not have Kevin try to bite his head off...much.
"Just in case you were wondering, my performance went better than yours, even if it was behind a hypermarket instead of you know, on a hundred thousand dollar stage. And in front of audiences amounting to maybe a million, counting the online streamers. Thanks for asking and sending your love and care," says Xander before Kevin can ask him how his stage went, the sarcasm in his words not as biting as it is affectionate. Despite himself, Kevin finds himself smiling when he hears this because he knows Xander is smiling as well, a few thousand miles away and one timezone apart.
"My love and care doesn't ship overseas, just so you know."
"Not even with FedEx?"
"Not even with FedEx."
"Ah, so is that an open invitation for me to come back to Korea to collect it in person, then?"
Kevin stirs at the question, shifting his weight on the couch's upholstery and suddenly very aware of how Xander isn't here right now, even if he had been last year at this exact hour, minute, second. This very heartbeat, if it came down to that. "The invitation is always open," Kevin finally grunts with feeling. "You just never take up my offer on it."
There's a moment of quiet on Xander's end of the line. This is hardly the first time they've talked about this and it's also hardly the first time they've spent New Year's eve in different countries, different timezones, but tonight feels different for some reason. Perhaps it's the fact that they both know that when the next year comes around, they'll still be the same distance apart from each other. No more homecomings to shared dance practices that dissolve into tired rants about choreography, no more 11pm dashes to studio recordings that end with wistful musings about whether this will finally be their next big hit.
No more safety net of knowing when or where they'll see one another again.
"You never asked," Xander says at length and with an inexplicably painful pang, Kevin realizes that Xander is right. He's never asked, just taken it for granted that Xander would come back.
"Well I'm asking now, aren't I?" comes the retort. There is a low laugh on the other end of the line. Fifteen minutes to 2012 on Kevin's side of the world.
"Yes, yes you are," agrees Xander and he's laughing, Kevin picturing him doubled over or maybe leaning against the wall for support. "Pushy, aren't you? I'll look into it, alright?" The last time Kevin had seen Xander was sometime back in late August, the two of them standing with their backs to the road sharing a plate of ddokbokki from a street vendor. It had been dark then, only nearby street lamps lighting the dips, curves of Xander's face and that's the only thing Kevin can remember before the memory unravels. It's been too long for his liking.
"Alright."
Xander has sobered up enough by now to remember that he has to be onstage again in fifteen minutes, rev the crowd up for the remaining one hour or so with the rest of the performers. "I'll call you next year," he teases when Kevin tells him to get off the phone and go get ready. "It's almost next year here," reminds Kevin, opening his eyes just a fraction to stare at the wall clock, it's minute hand already inching towards the very top. 2012 is looming and he supposes if he gets off the phone right now, he can still have barely enough time to go find out where the rest of the members are, maybe take a crack at the soju he's sure their manager has hidden somewhere.
By now, Xander really has to go so Kevin graciously lets him hang up with a rushed "Happy New Year!" that Kevin returns with as much earnestness he can muster. The line disconnects and somewhere outside the building, fireworks are already starting to go off. It's 2012 and Xander is still stuck an hour in the past.
fin.
A/N- so 80% of this was spontaneously written on my phone, I don't really have any idea what happened during Xander's Malaysian countdown thing or the MBC fiasco so the timeline is probably all wonky and…stuff. Right. Oops. Does anyone still even ship these two? and uhm HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D