Understated Sunshine [mblaq; seungho/thunder]
Understated Sunshine
seungho/thunder, thunder/iu (friendship)
pg-13, friendship, romance, 1729 words
In between wallowing in self-pity and thinking too much, Cheondung finally sees whats always been in front of him.
(this may or may not be interpreted as my rushed and hurried attempt at correlating my fangirl perfect-and-ideal-husband image of seungho with cheondung's image of him. sanghyun needs more love. also, anon who requested an mblaq fic, you coincidently got your wish.)
Kindness, Cheondung thinks, is an underrated quality. There are certain characteristics in humans that successful people look for - characteristics that notify them of whether or not two seconds of their time would be made in good investment. Their eyes narrow and their sharp tongues pelt with queries such as ‘are you driven?’ ‘are you confident?’ ‘charismatic’ ‘ambitious’ ‘methodical’ ‘motivated’. But seldom does someone accomplished ever raise their slim wine glass and scrutinize ‘are you kind?’. But, Cheondung thinks, kindness is akin to water, one of those things you need to be deprived and robbed of in order to appreciate.
Cheondung doesn’t think he appreciates anything more in the world.
Cheondung likes Jieun not because she’s cute, or talented, or because she has the endearing habit of using third person when she’s frustrated, but he likes her because she’s kind. After Cheondung’s first paternal figure walks away with one last lingering gaze of regret, he openly embraces the first person who hurts her hand trying to push open the elevator door in an attempt manipulate his thus far gloomy fortune.
Seungho doesn’t hurt his hand to help, or attempt to make things easier for Cheondung. Instead Seungho calls him disrespectful and confiscates his tracksuit for talking without honorifics. Maybe Jieun’s soft-spoken words and careful consideration have spoilt Cheondung or given him an over-abundance of good heart, because he spends the first night crying. He sends Jieun a disheartened text, squinting through his heavy eyelashes and sniffing from a runny nose.
‘It sucks, the leader hates me.’
Her reply is prompt, and he likes to imagine her fingers wound around her phone tightly, jolting at the small vibration.
‘Nah, you’re too sleepy to hate :P’
He smiles softly before deciding he literally is sleepy, and nothing can hurt him in his subconscious state, where he has taught himself to rest dreamless.
Cheondung bites his tongue and attentively swirls the contents of his coffee around with a single quivering finger when Seungho asks, “You wanted to quit?”
He was taught indirectly through watching confident children being scolded and arrogant father figures fall, that if you played meek you wouldn’t be reprimanded. He takes Seungho’s bitter words and disapproving frown as life proving him wrong. Joon watches guiltily from the doorway, biting his lip anxiously.
“Weren’t you the one who begged his way in? Saying you would try so, so hard. You do know actions speak louder than words, right?” Seungho keeps speaking in rhetorical question-like-statements, where he already knows the answers and the consequences.
Cheondung never says anything throughout the whole lecture, and instead tugs at his crudely dyed tendrils, willing his brain to explode. He flinches and chews the inside of his cheek intermittently when Seungho says something that manages to burrow it’s way under his artificial wall of apathy. It’s Seungho’s finishing statement however, that hits home and bulldozes the barrier down.
“Believe me, I am nothing compared to actual cruelty,” Seungho says before stalking away from the hapless atmosphere of the breakfast table, he nudges Joon’s shoulder when leaving through the door.
Cheondung doesn’t think he’s strong enough for any of this. Joon offers him a comforting hug, which he takes, but its security is only momentary and Cheondung spends the rest of the morning curled up in fetal position on the sofa. He hadn’t finished his coffee and his mind was still laced with small traces of sleep, but his fingers press at his cell phone’s keys habitually.
‘I think I’m choking from biting off more than I can chew.’
He tucks his phone away under the pillow, and an hour later it vibrates with Jieun’s name and words permeating through his bleary vision.
‘You can’t tell, but I’m giving you a virtual Heimlich manoeuvre.’
The first time Cheondung really thinks about what kindness entails, is the time when the world closes in on him and he becomes a refugee under his warm blankets.
The one characteristic Cheondung genuinely envies is natural talent, an inherent knack for being good at something. Cheondung would give his sister’s hand in marriage if it meant being able to excel, because it protected you from anonymous words injected with venom glaring at you through the illuminated computer screen.
It’s an issue that cuts Cheondung to the core, but it’s also an issue that would be awkward to acknowledge. So most of his members say their words through the comforting pats and the sweet ice cream presented to Cheondung as a ‘random surprise’. No one actually says what’s on the tip of their tongue - that everything stems from a seed of truth.
Seungho however, not only miraculously lacked kindness, but also a large amount of tact. “I’m sure in the future you can turn this incident around and use it as a source of self-depreciating humour,” he says as he softly places the mug of hot chocolate on the polished bedside table.
Cheondung shifts under his covers, but saves the last few shreds of his dignity by refusing to give a verbalised response. Seungho sighs and turns to leave, knowing a lost cause when presented with one. The sleeve of his navy sweatshirt however, bumps the steaming mug and tilts it slightly to the left, enough for a splash of scalding hot chocolate to scorch Cheondung’s neck.
“Eep!” Cheondung squeaks, jolting upright and fanning air frantically onto the hot spot.
Seungho’s lips quirk in amusement. “Cute,” he says, before licking the pad of his thumb and rubbing it over the scorching skin. Heat emanates from the pressure point and sends a deep red flush flourishing through Cheondung’s neck. Seungho remains unwavering in his unorthodox methods of treatment, and when he lifts his thumb he hesitates before lightly ruffling Cheondung’s coarse hair.
“It gets easier,” he says, fixing the blankets comfortably over Cheondung’s form before walking away and closing the door behind him. His absence leaves something hanging in the air.
Cheondung rolls over on the mattress and gropes the bedside table blindly for his phone; the screen indicates ten text messages, nine of which are over-complimentary and inspirational words of strength from his sister. The last is from Jieun, short and sweet like he knows her to be.
‘I don’t know anything about rapping, so you might have sucked. But you did sound fierce. Rawr.’
He grins at her unsaid words of condolence and clumsily types an irrelevant text back in reply.
‘It’s getting easier, leader hates me less now’
Cheondung watches carefully from then on, and he notes how even though Seungho scowls at him for not putting his seatbelt on, he’s always the last to enter the van and willingly occupies the unwanted cramped seat in the back. Cheondung notices how even though Seungho scolds him for waking him up in the middle of the night with his inconsistent sleeping habits; he always fixes a warm cup of milk before sending Cheondung back to bed. Cheondung observes how even though Seungho tells him every day to find a better ‘skill’ to show off on variety shows, he always has his hand on the small of Cheondung’s back during recording, whispering encouraging words as he’s dragged helplessly into the limelight. Cheondung takes note of how G.O will holler his commands with the authority of an elder, but Seungho has never once raised his voice since that first day of training.
Rarely is someone actually born with an ingrained moral compass, it’s something that’s carved through life lessons and victories and mistakes. Technically speaking no one is ever genuinely kind, most simply have common sense. Common sense that tells them their contemplated actions may or may not harm someone and it’d be best not to go through with it. That common sense however, is something Cheondung appreciates all the same anyway.
But, Cheondung notices how even though Seungho says they don’t have time to meet one of Cheondung’s friends; he bows the longest to Jieun and talks to her softly and humbly when making conversation. He notes how despite Seungho’s constant nagging of ‘time, time, time’, he stays back that extra two minutes to make sure Jieun’s ankle is okay when she snaps her foot in those too long heels. Cheondung notices how Seungho never lets his eyes wander below Jieun’s face, even when the girl herself is pulling uncomfortably at the skirt which barely reaches her mid-thigh.
Cheondung thinks that there are always exceptions to the rule.
When everyone else dozes off on the van ride back home, Cheondung reaches for his phone, cupping the screen to prevent the light from irritating his slumbering bandmates.
‘So, do you approve of my fellow members?’
His phone vibrates not only a minute after, and the small text makes Cheondung grin in amusement.
‘Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t dig them ;P’
Someone cuffs the back of Cheondung’s head, and he snaps his phone shut in surprise. “Go to sleep,” Seungho murmurs from beside him, his cheek flat against the frosted window.
“I can’t, the seat is uncomfortable,” Cheondung whispers softly, knowing full well the consequences of rousing a sleep-deprived Seungho, the blue bruise on Mir’s stomach acting as a subtle reminder for everyone.
Seungho ‘tsks’ and reaches his arm out, and Cheondung flinches expecting another cuff to the head or a good thwack. Instead he’s tugged sideways and his cheek is resting comfortably on the crook of Seungho’s shoulder. He breathes in unsteadily, inhaling his leader’s sweet and soft aroma.
“Go to sleep,” Seungho demands again, shifting to accommodate the new body leaning securely against his. “Your girlfriend is cute, by the way,” Seungho mumbles it so quietly, that if him and Cheondung hadn’t been resting against each other, the words would have been lost in the humdrum of the streets outside.
Cheondung quirks an eyebrow, “She’s not my girlfriend. Just a friend, a really good one.”
“Oh,” Seungho’s voice conveys faux surprise, but his face remains still and content with his eyes pressed shut. “That’s good then, go to sleep,” he orders one last time.
Cheondung doesn’t ask questions or consider possible Freudian Slips, he’ll think about those tomorrow when the haze over his mind had cleared. For now he simply nods into the older man’s neck and flutters his eyes shut, letting the sweet fragrance lull him away from consciousness.
He dreams for the first time in ten years.
a/n: probably the fluffiest thing i've written and ever plan to write. i think i need a few days off to recover from this mess of words. also, is seungho/thunder even a legit pairing? they're so presh but non-existent fic wise! it makes me sad face, how can you not love this?? le sigh. the mblaq fandom is a hapless duopoly of two ships (you know what i'm talking about), where's the variety, bro?
seungho/thunder, thunder/iu (friendship)
pg-13, friendship, romance, 1729 words
In between wallowing in self-pity and thinking too much, Cheondung finally sees whats always been in front of him.
(this may or may not be interpreted as my rushed and hurried attempt at correlating my fangirl perfect-and-ideal-husband image of seungho with cheondung's image of him. sanghyun needs more love. also, anon who requested an mblaq fic, you coincidently got your wish.)
Kindness, Cheondung thinks, is an underrated quality. There are certain characteristics in humans that successful people look for - characteristics that notify them of whether or not two seconds of their time would be made in good investment. Their eyes narrow and their sharp tongues pelt with queries such as ‘are you driven?’ ‘are you confident?’ ‘charismatic’ ‘ambitious’ ‘methodical’ ‘motivated’. But seldom does someone accomplished ever raise their slim wine glass and scrutinize ‘are you kind?’. But, Cheondung thinks, kindness is akin to water, one of those things you need to be deprived and robbed of in order to appreciate.
Cheondung doesn’t think he appreciates anything more in the world.
Cheondung likes Jieun not because she’s cute, or talented, or because she has the endearing habit of using third person when she’s frustrated, but he likes her because she’s kind. After Cheondung’s first paternal figure walks away with one last lingering gaze of regret, he openly embraces the first person who hurts her hand trying to push open the elevator door in an attempt manipulate his thus far gloomy fortune.
Seungho doesn’t hurt his hand to help, or attempt to make things easier for Cheondung. Instead Seungho calls him disrespectful and confiscates his tracksuit for talking without honorifics. Maybe Jieun’s soft-spoken words and careful consideration have spoilt Cheondung or given him an over-abundance of good heart, because he spends the first night crying. He sends Jieun a disheartened text, squinting through his heavy eyelashes and sniffing from a runny nose.
‘It sucks, the leader hates me.’
Her reply is prompt, and he likes to imagine her fingers wound around her phone tightly, jolting at the small vibration.
‘Nah, you’re too sleepy to hate :P’
He smiles softly before deciding he literally is sleepy, and nothing can hurt him in his subconscious state, where he has taught himself to rest dreamless.
Cheondung bites his tongue and attentively swirls the contents of his coffee around with a single quivering finger when Seungho asks, “You wanted to quit?”
He was taught indirectly through watching confident children being scolded and arrogant father figures fall, that if you played meek you wouldn’t be reprimanded. He takes Seungho’s bitter words and disapproving frown as life proving him wrong. Joon watches guiltily from the doorway, biting his lip anxiously.
“Weren’t you the one who begged his way in? Saying you would try so, so hard. You do know actions speak louder than words, right?” Seungho keeps speaking in rhetorical question-like-statements, where he already knows the answers and the consequences.
Cheondung never says anything throughout the whole lecture, and instead tugs at his crudely dyed tendrils, willing his brain to explode. He flinches and chews the inside of his cheek intermittently when Seungho says something that manages to burrow it’s way under his artificial wall of apathy. It’s Seungho’s finishing statement however, that hits home and bulldozes the barrier down.
“Believe me, I am nothing compared to actual cruelty,” Seungho says before stalking away from the hapless atmosphere of the breakfast table, he nudges Joon’s shoulder when leaving through the door.
Cheondung doesn’t think he’s strong enough for any of this. Joon offers him a comforting hug, which he takes, but its security is only momentary and Cheondung spends the rest of the morning curled up in fetal position on the sofa. He hadn’t finished his coffee and his mind was still laced with small traces of sleep, but his fingers press at his cell phone’s keys habitually.
‘I think I’m choking from biting off more than I can chew.’
He tucks his phone away under the pillow, and an hour later it vibrates with Jieun’s name and words permeating through his bleary vision.
‘You can’t tell, but I’m giving you a virtual Heimlich manoeuvre.’
The first time Cheondung really thinks about what kindness entails, is the time when the world closes in on him and he becomes a refugee under his warm blankets.
The one characteristic Cheondung genuinely envies is natural talent, an inherent knack for being good at something. Cheondung would give his sister’s hand in marriage if it meant being able to excel, because it protected you from anonymous words injected with venom glaring at you through the illuminated computer screen.
It’s an issue that cuts Cheondung to the core, but it’s also an issue that would be awkward to acknowledge. So most of his members say their words through the comforting pats and the sweet ice cream presented to Cheondung as a ‘random surprise’. No one actually says what’s on the tip of their tongue - that everything stems from a seed of truth.
Seungho however, not only miraculously lacked kindness, but also a large amount of tact. “I’m sure in the future you can turn this incident around and use it as a source of self-depreciating humour,” he says as he softly places the mug of hot chocolate on the polished bedside table.
Cheondung shifts under his covers, but saves the last few shreds of his dignity by refusing to give a verbalised response. Seungho sighs and turns to leave, knowing a lost cause when presented with one. The sleeve of his navy sweatshirt however, bumps the steaming mug and tilts it slightly to the left, enough for a splash of scalding hot chocolate to scorch Cheondung’s neck.
“Eep!” Cheondung squeaks, jolting upright and fanning air frantically onto the hot spot.
Seungho’s lips quirk in amusement. “Cute,” he says, before licking the pad of his thumb and rubbing it over the scorching skin. Heat emanates from the pressure point and sends a deep red flush flourishing through Cheondung’s neck. Seungho remains unwavering in his unorthodox methods of treatment, and when he lifts his thumb he hesitates before lightly ruffling Cheondung’s coarse hair.
“It gets easier,” he says, fixing the blankets comfortably over Cheondung’s form before walking away and closing the door behind him. His absence leaves something hanging in the air.
Cheondung rolls over on the mattress and gropes the bedside table blindly for his phone; the screen indicates ten text messages, nine of which are over-complimentary and inspirational words of strength from his sister. The last is from Jieun, short and sweet like he knows her to be.
‘I don’t know anything about rapping, so you might have sucked. But you did sound fierce. Rawr.’
He grins at her unsaid words of condolence and clumsily types an irrelevant text back in reply.
‘It’s getting easier, leader hates me less now’
Cheondung watches carefully from then on, and he notes how even though Seungho scowls at him for not putting his seatbelt on, he’s always the last to enter the van and willingly occupies the unwanted cramped seat in the back. Cheondung notices how even though Seungho scolds him for waking him up in the middle of the night with his inconsistent sleeping habits; he always fixes a warm cup of milk before sending Cheondung back to bed. Cheondung observes how even though Seungho tells him every day to find a better ‘skill’ to show off on variety shows, he always has his hand on the small of Cheondung’s back during recording, whispering encouraging words as he’s dragged helplessly into the limelight. Cheondung takes note of how G.O will holler his commands with the authority of an elder, but Seungho has never once raised his voice since that first day of training.
Rarely is someone actually born with an ingrained moral compass, it’s something that’s carved through life lessons and victories and mistakes. Technically speaking no one is ever genuinely kind, most simply have common sense. Common sense that tells them their contemplated actions may or may not harm someone and it’d be best not to go through with it. That common sense however, is something Cheondung appreciates all the same anyway.
But, Cheondung notices how even though Seungho says they don’t have time to meet one of Cheondung’s friends; he bows the longest to Jieun and talks to her softly and humbly when making conversation. He notes how despite Seungho’s constant nagging of ‘time, time, time’, he stays back that extra two minutes to make sure Jieun’s ankle is okay when she snaps her foot in those too long heels. Cheondung notices how Seungho never lets his eyes wander below Jieun’s face, even when the girl herself is pulling uncomfortably at the skirt which barely reaches her mid-thigh.
Cheondung thinks that there are always exceptions to the rule.
When everyone else dozes off on the van ride back home, Cheondung reaches for his phone, cupping the screen to prevent the light from irritating his slumbering bandmates.
‘So, do you approve of my fellow members?’
His phone vibrates not only a minute after, and the small text makes Cheondung grin in amusement.
‘Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t dig them ;P’
Someone cuffs the back of Cheondung’s head, and he snaps his phone shut in surprise. “Go to sleep,” Seungho murmurs from beside him, his cheek flat against the frosted window.
“I can’t, the seat is uncomfortable,” Cheondung whispers softly, knowing full well the consequences of rousing a sleep-deprived Seungho, the blue bruise on Mir’s stomach acting as a subtle reminder for everyone.
Seungho ‘tsks’ and reaches his arm out, and Cheondung flinches expecting another cuff to the head or a good thwack. Instead he’s tugged sideways and his cheek is resting comfortably on the crook of Seungho’s shoulder. He breathes in unsteadily, inhaling his leader’s sweet and soft aroma.
“Go to sleep,” Seungho demands again, shifting to accommodate the new body leaning securely against his. “Your girlfriend is cute, by the way,” Seungho mumbles it so quietly, that if him and Cheondung hadn’t been resting against each other, the words would have been lost in the humdrum of the streets outside.
Cheondung quirks an eyebrow, “She’s not my girlfriend. Just a friend, a really good one.”
“Oh,” Seungho’s voice conveys faux surprise, but his face remains still and content with his eyes pressed shut. “That’s good then, go to sleep,” he orders one last time.
Cheondung doesn’t ask questions or consider possible Freudian Slips, he’ll think about those tomorrow when the haze over his mind had cleared. For now he simply nods into the older man’s neck and flutters his eyes shut, letting the sweet fragrance lull him away from consciousness.
He dreams for the first time in ten years.
a/n: probably the fluffiest thing i've written and ever plan to write. i think i need a few days off to recover from this mess of words. also, is seungho/thunder even a legit pairing? they're so presh but non-existent fic wise! it makes me sad face, how can you not love this?? le sigh. the mblaq fandom is a hapless duopoly of two ships (you know what i'm talking about), where's the variety, bro?