#34. 2PM [Junho-centric]
Fandom: 2PM
Title: be with (you)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Junho-centric, some Junho/Wooyoung and Nichkhun/Wooyoung.
Length: 4434 words
Summary: scenes from the outside; Junho during the lead up to Wooyoung's solo debut.
Warnings: none.
Notes: for the excellent rainbwoo ♥! I was so happy to receive you as my assignment and I hope this doesn't disappoint too much.
Remixee author: rainbwoo
Title of work you remixed: tilting the hour glass
Link to work you remixed: http://voicemessage.livejournal.com/4759.html
The only person remotely surprised when Jinyoung tells Wooyoung he’s getting a solo is, predictably, Wooyoung himself.
For all his business acumen and entrepreneurial genius, Jinyoung hyung is really really bad at hiding his emotions, so when Junsu, Wooyoung and Junho are called to a meeting about one of them debuting as a solo artist Junho can immediately see who his preferred choice is. It’s all there in the way Jinyoung praises Junsu for his compositions and thanks him for being a supportive hyung who continues to make sacrifices for his younger brothers. It’s increasingly obvious in the way he turns to Junho and hums a few bars of Give It To Me before promising to secure him television and movie spots in the coming year. It’s downright blatant in the way he’s careful to avoid praising Wooyoung, his silence a clear hint that Wooyoung is lacking in some department compared to the other two.
Junho would be offended on his behalf if he didn’t a) suspect what Jinyoung was about to give Wooyoung, and b) enjoy the attention so much.
For all his quick wit and clever mind, Wooyoung is really really bad at seeing what’s right there in front of him, so when Jinyoung (finally) gets to the heart of the matter and says he wants one of them to release a solo, Wooyoung immediately turns to Junsu.
“Hyung, it has to be you.” He grabs Junsu’s hand and laces their fingers together. “J to the U N K to da A Y~!”
Junsu meets Junho’s gaze over the top of Wooyoung’s head and rolls his eyes. Junho mouths he just doesn’t get it back to him and tiredly rubs his forehead. How Wooyoung can be so perceptive with some things and so obtuse with others is something he’ll never understand.
Junsu extricates his hand and gives Wooyoung a patient smile. “I don’t think so.” He cuts off Wooyoung’s automatic protest with a warning finger. “I already released a solo song last year, and composed a lot of songs for 2PM. I think I should give this opportunity to my little brothers.” The words echo Jinyoung’s from before and Junho doesn’t miss the way Jinyoung’s chest puffs up a little with pride on the other side of the table.
Wooyoung is silent for a moment. “Then…” he turns in his seat to look at Junho and his face is a battlefield, confusion and uncertainty warring with conviction and hope. You should do this his eyes say, then he blinks and it’s I want this too then his lashes flutter once more and the message is I can’t I won’t don’t do this to me.
Like Junho has a choice.
He squashes the surge of jealousy that bubbled up his throat the moment he realised what this would be about, pushes it down down down to somewhere under his ribs, south of his heart. He takes a deep breath and rummages in his collection of smiles for the one that will help the most right now, pinning it on and feeling his lips curve into the tiniest of comforting grins. “You should do it, Wooyoung-ah,” he says, leaning forward in his chair until his knee touches Wooyoung’s leg. “I want a solo debut, but I’m not ready for it yet.”
“Neither am I!” Wooyoung protests but it’s already too late.
The rest of the meeting passes in a flurry of rewritten schedules and future arrangements, and Wooyoung is quiet afterwards as they make their way downstairs.
“Wait,” he calls out as Junho is about to open the front door. The receptionist gives them a startled look but Wooyoung ignores it, glancing between Junho and Junsu and biting his lip.
Junho turns back from the door and raises his eyebrow. Junsu pauses in the middle of putting on his sunglasses. “What’s wrong?”
“If I do this, and I’m saying if,” Wooyoung says slowly, the anxious fingers tapping on this thigh the only thing belying his calm appearance, “I want your songs on the album. I want to sing your songs.” He looks down and shoves his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. “I think…I think that will help.”
Junsu puts on his sunglasses and grabs Wooyoung in a headlock, tugging him to his chest. “Oh you cute thing! Who’s my adorable dongsaeng? Who’s my widdle solo artist?!”
“Hyung!” Wooyoung’s voice is muffled but his laughter is clear as he struggles in Junsu’s hold, further bewildering the poor receptionist.
Junho waits till Wooyoung has broken free of Junsu’s grip and sucked in a few mouthfuls of fresh air before sweeping him into a bear hug of his own.
--
The rest of the members are even more supportive of the news than he and Junsu were, and it belatedly occurs to Junho there may have been more than one reason the three of them went to the meeting together.
He has to admit he’s still a little jealous. There’s still that slight sting under his heart from a tattoo that says not good enough in ink only he can see, but it’s Wooyoung. Junho knows how hard he works, how deserving he is. He knows his drive, his talent, his work ethic. He knows Wooyoung can succeed.
He'll just do better with Junho’s help.
He watches Chansung piggyback Wooyoung in a victory lap around the living room as Taecyeon films it on his phone and Nichkhun flops helplessly on the couch, laughing and holding his belly. Wading into the chaos, Junho grabs Wooyoung’s arm as Chansung makes another pass.
“Yah!” He shouts. Chansung skids to a halt, panting and giggling, and Wooyoung turns his head to face Junho, resting his cheek on Chansung’s shoulder and giving him a silly grin. He looks so happy, so vibrant, so hopeful that Junho knows he’s made the right decision. “Yah,” he says again, softer this time.
Taecyeon pockets his phone and comes to stand behind Junho, leaning his considerable weight on his back. “Why are you breaking up the party, bossy boots!”
Junsu wanders in with a pink and blue box. “Are we playing good hyung bad hyung, because I brought ice cream cake and I’m pretty sure that makes me the favourite.”
“Junho’s not a hyung though,” Nichkhun points out, ever the voice of logic.
Wooyoung taps Chansung’s back twice and Chansung straightens, letting Wooyoung slide to the floor. “He’s a hyung in spirit.”
Junho rolls his eyes. “I just wanted to say-“
“Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung says, nodding solemnly.
“-that since you’ve made this decision-“
“Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung says again, pushing Taecyeon off Junho's shoulders before steering him towards the kitchen.
“-I’m going to fully support you and write you the best possible song to show both our talents and mrphhhfft.” Junho’s inspirational speech dies a premature death as Wooyoung takes a forkful of ice cream cake and shoves it in his mouth. He coughs on a far too large chunk of cookies and cream.
“Yes, hyung, I get it.” Wooyoung hands him a tissue and waits while Junho wipes his mouth, leaning in close just as Junho’s ready to speak again. “I get it.” The words are quiet and earnest and Junho knows he means them, knows he understands how Junho feels. They’ve always been similar in temperament, their personalities close, and Junho thanks their connection for the understanding here.
And then Nichkhun drifts into the kitchen and gravitates to Wooyoung, bending down slightly and opening his mouth expectantly for some ice cream cake of his own. Wooyoung tsks and protests loudly at Nichkhun’s assumption that he’d feed him, but then he digs out a piece anyway, a small neat square of cherry delight.
As he pops it into Nichkhun’s waiting mouth Junho is reminded that the connection doesn’t always work, and there are some things that Wooyoung will never understand.
--
The early days are exciting, even for Junho on the sidelines. Wooyoung is whisked off to production meetings every day and he comes back to the villa and tells them all about the boxes full of demo disks and dossiers of style concepts.
“I think the market is ready for your trot album,” Taecyeon tells him and is rewarded with a couch cushion to the face.
Chansung is thoughtful. “It’s hard to know what to do though, right? Like you’ll still be ‘Jang Wooyoung of 2PM’ so the public will be expecting a dance track. If you do it, you’re playing it safe, but if you challenge that you’ll be pushing them out of their comfort zone.”
Wooyoung sends him a grateful look from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. “That’s exactly my problem. What do people want?”
“That’s the 23 million dollar question,” Junsu sighs.
“What about a romantic ballad?” Nichkhun suggests, picking up Wooyoung’s hand and threading their fingers together. Wooyoung’s still looking at Chansung so he misses the encouraging smile Nichkhun gives him, but Junho sees it and the invisible tattoo flares again.
“I want to do that.”
Everyone turns to stare at Junho. He bites the inside of his cheek and counts to three - the outburst had taken him by surprise too. He tries again. “I mean, if there’s going to be a ballad, I want to write it. Wooyoung and I, we’ve already done a dance track. We can do something different this time.”
Taecyeon sighs and rests his chin on his hand. “When will you write me a ballad, Junho?”
“That would be never,” Junho replies pleasantly. Taecyeon lets out a dramatic cry and falls into Chansung’s lap.
“Shh hyung,” Chansung murmurs and pats his head.
Wooyoung’s looking at Junho now, his eyes bright and interested. “Are you sure?”
Junho shrugs and picks at the button on the couch cushion in his lap. “Sure, I mean ballads are the easiest. They come naturally, you know. I just need to tap into the emotion and it’ll happen.”
After a moment, Wooyoung nods, sharp and decisive. “Ok, good. Let’s do it,” he pauses and his lips quirk in amusement, “hyung.”
Junho could get used to this.
--
As time goes on and the clock starts ticking the excitement fades and exhaustion sets in. Wooyoung is the first to leave in the morning and the last one to come back in the evening and it’s obvious the schedule and the stress are taking their toll. Without the cover of makeup the bags under his eyes are dark as bruises, and Junho thinks Wooyoung would be celebrating the fact that he’s finally lost weight in the cheek area if he wasn’t too busy to notice it’s gone.
Junho’s been busy with his own things - Jinyoung’s promises of television exposure weren’t empty after all - but Wooyoung’s working five times harder than anyone else. No one in 2PM is lazy (except for Junsu when it comes to doing chores around the apartment) but Wooyoung’s gruelling schedule is putting the rest of them to shame.
Maybe Junho would feel less guilty if he could write that ballad he’d promised Wooyoung, the one that was meant to be easy and natural, the one he just needed the emotion for. Ever since saying that, however, the well of inspiration he usually dipped into has completely dried up. He stares at his composing notebook in every spare minute, willing a refrain to pop into being, doodling random words in the hope a catchy lyric will be born.
Nothing is forthcoming.
He sighs and reaches for his phone, hitting the power button and wincing as the time flashes onto the screen. 4:30 AM. Time to sleep. He sighs again and stretches, flipping his notebook shut so he doesn’t have to look at his latest pathetic lyric attempt, before getting to his feet and wincing at the rush of feeling to his toes. He shuffles out to the kitchen with a yawn and freezes in the doorway.
Wooyoung’s standing over the sink, a full glass of water in one hand and a small mountain of pills in the other. The open pill bottle sits on the draining board, two-thirds empty. Wooyoung stiffens at his entrance but tips the pills into his mouth before turning.
His eyes are dark and careful as he looks at Junho over the top of his glass as he drinks, his rhythmic swallows the only sound in the quiet kitchen.
“What are those?” Sometimes Junho can be careful too, so he keeps the accusation from his tone.
Wooyoung pulls away from the glass with a wet intake of breath. “Nothing.” He finishes the last of the water. “Can’t sleep.”
“Oh.” Junho doesn’t know what to say to that so he crosses slowly to the fridge, checking inside for longer than necessary before pulling out the milk he’d originally came for. He rolls the bottle around in his hands as he thinks. Should he say something? Should he ignore it? To hell with it. “You shouldn’t rely too much on those pills.”
Wooyoung turns to the sink again and Junho can’t help but notice the jut of his shoulder blades under his thin t-shirt, his back looking small and narrow as he twists the tap and quickly washes out the glass. “Can’t. My insomnia is getting worse. I’m tired and I can't sleep, but I need it to function properly. You know?”
Junho doesn’t, not really. They’re busy, they’re all busy, but he’s never been pulled in as many different directions as Wooyoung is right now. He can imagine it, though, he can put the pieces together from what he’s seen of Wooyoung’s schedule and heard from the staff. He wishes it wasn’t like this. He wishes Wooyoung didn’t have to do all this on his own.
“Yeah,” he says, the lie flat and heavy on his tongue. It’s better if he drops it; the less time he spends discussing this the more time Wooyoung has to sleep. “Go take a rest now.”
Wooyoung swallows, relief flashing across his face as he takes a step towards the hall. “You go back to bed soon,” he instructs, brushing past Junho on his way out. “Goodnight.”
“Night,” Junho echoes, but the kitchen is empty. He takes a swig of the milk then takes the bottle back to his bedroom, setting it on his desk and flipping open his notebook one more time.
At last, the words have come. He picks up his pencil and writes.
--
The melody takes longer, notes coming in bits and pieces - a touch of the chorus from the hiss of a kettle, the bridge from a bell on a bicycle in the street. Junho weaves the notes together at last on the plane from Gimpo to Narita and he puts the finishing touches on it while getting his makeup done for their final concert in Japan.
He snaps the notebook shut with a satisfied grin, then glances across to where Wooyoung’s stylists are working on him. His makeup generally takes a little longer since they have to even out his eyes, but lately they’ve needed to do more than that - concealing the shadows under his eyes and dealing with the stress pimples that always seem to target his chin. His usually perfect posture looks awkward from where Junho is and when he twists in his chair he can see it’s because Wooyoung is fast asleep sitting up, mouth slightly open and head tilted back.
Junho unconsciously moves to rise from his chair and is halted by a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t wake him,” Nichkhun murmurs. He’s gazing at Wooyoung, his expression equal parts indulgence and concern.
“I wasn’t going to.” Junho doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend himself. He hugs his notebook to his chest.
Nichkhun smiles down at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Just in case you were,” he says, before catching sight of the notebook in Junho’s arms. “Oh, did you finish it?!”
Junho wanted Wooyoung to be the first to know. “Not quite,” he hedges, then he’s saved from having to dodge the truth further by an ungraceful snort from Wooyoung’s chair as he jerks awake.
“Mmm wasn’t sleeping,” he announces groggily to the room at large.
Nichkhun catches Junho’s eye in the mirror and grins. “No one said you were,” he replies easily, loping across the room to tickle him under the chin. “Look how happy and alert you are!”
“Aish,” Wooyoung grumbles, angling away from Nichkhun’s fingers. “You’ll smudge my makeup.”
Junho tucks the notebook into his backpack and gets ready to go on stage. He can tell Wooyoung later.
--
The empty message field taunts him, the blank space under the address line a silent accusation. But what to tell him, what to say to a perfectionist whose first stage didn’t go at all as planned?
Should he send him comforting platitudes? A joke? An unrelated picture of his cat?
Junho’s sense of humour is, as he likes to tell people, an acquired taste, but Wooyoung always gets him. Wooyoung always laughs at his jokes. (Chansung does too, but Chansung laughs at everything so Junho figures he doesn’t count.)
Wooyoung could do with a laugh right now, Junho thinks, so he goes for option b and sends the joke. It’s in poor taste, but he thinks Wooyoung will forgive him.
TO: JWY SOLO ARTIST
FROM: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
MNet? More like MWet.
TO: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
FROM: JWY SOLO ARTIST
Hyung ㅠㅠ
TO: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
FROM: JWY SOLO ARTIST
ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
TO: JWY SOLO ARTIST
FROM: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
Next time will be better.
TO: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
FROM: JWY SOLO ARTIST
How can you be sure?
TO: JWY SOLO ARTIST
FROM: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
Because next time, I'll be there.
--
The showcase is better. A hundred times better. A thousand times. More.
It’s streamed and recorded and there’s pressure (and the press) but Wooyoung is in his element, smiling and laughing and interacting with the fans. He’s comfortable and poised today, a far cry from the stiff nervousness of the blue carpet and the jerky movements of his debut stage. Junho watches him from the back of the room with cautious relief.
The fans are cheering, the press are chatting and the mood is good. The crowd is a happy one and their energy is infectious, so much so that even Junho can almost forget that the start time was delayed.
It would have been delayed further had he not reached into Taecyeon’s pocket and pulled out his phone, swiftly entering the pin code and heading straight to his contacts.
“What the-hey! Junho, what are you doing?” Taecyeon is as slow to get off the ground as the showcase and Junho’s already brought up Nichkhun’s number by the time he snatches the phone back. He frowns at the screen then looks up at Junho. “Why?”
Junho crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. “Juseob hyung has Wooyoung’s phone.” He jerks his chin to where their manager is gesticulating at some cameramen, the familiar phone case clearly tucked into his back pocket. It’s not uncommon for their managers to take care of their particulars when performing, but Junho has his own suspicions as to why it was taken away.
Taecyeon seems to have suspicions too, but they’re all about Junho right now. “So?” he prompts, his phone screen still illuminating Nickhun’s contact page. “What magic can Khun do to get this moving along?”
“Crucio,” Junho mutters under his breath, then shakes his head at Taecyeon’s curious look. “Just give it to him, if I’m wrong you can publicly humiliate me or something.”
Taecyeon narrows his eyes at him in contemplation before shrugging and turning to push through the crowd. “I’m holding you to that!”
“You do it anyway!” Junho calls after him.
Four minutes later the showcase starts.
--
From the first night it becomes a tradition that whoever is home when Wooyoung is performing on a music show must watch it and text him encouragement and praise. Junho’s at a magazine shoot the first Thursday night, on a quiz show the first Friday night and en route to appointments both days on the first weekend, so he vows to be available on the second week of promotions.
Due to unforeseen circumstances he’s busy again during that week, but he gets in just before Music Core starts on the third Saturday and drops his bag in the foyer and sprints to the living room, climbing over Chansung to take the prime viewing position in the centre of the couch. Chansung groans but doesn’t protest and even offers Junho his bag of chips (Junho politely declines).
They sit in comfortable silence through LED Apple and various new girl groups, tap their feet along to Boom’s comeback single and unashamedly sing along to Sistar. Finally the camera cuts to the MCs, Tiffany and Seohyun leaning away from the camera as Taeyeon mimics Wooyoung’s dance pose, casually resting an elbow on Seohyun’s shoulder as she peels off a pair of sunglasses.
“Are all you sexy ladies ready?” she asks the camera.
“Yes!” Chansung cheers.
“Jang Wooyoung!” she cries and the camera spins up and away as the opening notes blare out.
Junho doesn’t even realise he’s on the edge of his seat until he falls off the couch.
--
Wooyoung wins.
--
He wins.
--
Junho and Chansung have cheered themselves hoarse by the time Wooyoung gets back but they obligingly cheer some more, share some soju and take turns telling him how fantastic he was. Taecyeon is in charge of downloading Wooyoung’s performance cuts in high definition so they can’t rewatch the win until he gets back from an overnight schedule but Wooyoung assures them it’s ok.
“I was there,” he points out, unconsciously stroking his trophy to punctuate. “And you saw it, that’s enough for me.”
His eyes keep straying to the front door though, and even after a bottle of soju Junho can tell it’s not quite enough, not yet.
He washes down his disappointment with another glass and shakes his head when Chansung goes to pour him some more. “We should sleep.”
Chansung pouts. “But it’s a celebration!” He reaches for another bottle of soju and accidentally knocks it over instead. “Oops.”
Junho exchanges glances with Wooyoung and Wooyoung sighs, getting to his feet and tucking his hands under Chansung’s arms. “Upsy daisy,” he sings, tugging Chansung upright with herculean effort. Chansung stumbles and wraps his arm around Wooyoung’s head, nuzzling into his blond hair and letting out a contented sigh.
“Wooyoungie is the best.”
Junho steps forward and grabs Chansung’s other arm. “Together, let’s go together.”
They safely deposit Chansung in his room and tuck him into bed before making their way back to the living room. Wooyoung sits back on the couch and looks surprised when Junho shakes his head. “I’m going to bed.”
“Oh.” Wooyoung seems a little lost. “You’re tired already?”
Junho’s not, but Nichkhun’s plane was due to arrive an hour ago and in the interest of self-preservation Junho doesn’t want to be here when he gets in.
He shrugs and crouches next to the trophy. “You earned this.” He reaches out and strokes a finger over the crystal facets, the smooth finish cool and unyielding under his fingertip. “I hope you know that.”
Wooyoung picks at the denim of his jeans. “I couldn’t have done it without everyone else.”
Junho’s not so sure about that, but there are just some things that Wooyoung doesn’t see. “Don’t stay up too late,” he says instead, straightening and rolling his neck. “And--oomph!”
Wooyoung collides with his back, winding his arms around Junho’s chest and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I mean it,” he says fiercely into the side of Junho’s neck. “I could only keep going because of you all. I could only keep working because I wanted to show you the best performances, because I didn’t want to let you down. I really couldn’t have done it without you guys, and especially you.” Junho stays very still, in case he moves and shatters whatever this is. “I know we’ve been making that dumb hyung joke for a while now but sometimes…it’s really like you’re looking after me. Thank you.” He squeezes extra hard one more time then steps back.
Junho just stares straight ahead and doesn’t blink. His eyes are feeling suspiciously damp and blinking might make things worse. “Good night,” he says after a minute, an inadequate reply, but he and Wooyoung have a connection.
It may not be whatever Wooyoung and Khun have, but for Junho, for the moment, it’s enough.
--
Wooyoung sits back in his chair and lifts his headphones off with a satisfied sigh. “It’s perfect.”
Junho flushes from the unexpected praise. “You really think so?”
“We~ll…”
“I knew it was too good to be true,” Junho huffs comically, but in truth he is a little stung. He should be used to it by now since the invisible tattoo still hurts sometimes, but his heart forgets so his body does too.
Wooyoung reaches over the table and takes Junho’s hand in his own, linking their fingers together and squeezing tight. Junho’s breath catches; he can’t keep up. “Really.” Wooyoung looks at him, focuses on him, gives him his full attention, and that’s always been a powerful and dangerous thing. “It’s a great song. I need to listen to it again before I can give you any real feedback but it’s beautiful. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it? It would sound smoother with your voice.”
“It’s for you,” Junho says. He can’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes. “I wrote it for you.”
Wooyoung’s fingers curl in one last squeeze then he lets go and sits back. Junho feels bereft. “Then thank you.” He pauses and his lips quirk into a grin. “Hyung.”
Junho coughs and sits up straighter in his chair. “Just remember to thank me in your acceptance speech whenever you win a music show.”
Wooyoung is startled into a bark of laughter, low and genuine, and for one trembling moment Junho wishes that things were different.
And then the moment passes and nothing has changed and Junho is content with that. Because Wooyoung will succeed and Junho will be there, with him.
Every step of the way.
Title: be with (you)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Junho-centric, some Junho/Wooyoung and Nichkhun/Wooyoung.
Length: 4434 words
Summary: scenes from the outside; Junho during the lead up to Wooyoung's solo debut.
Warnings: none.
Notes: for the excellent rainbwoo ♥! I was so happy to receive you as my assignment and I hope this doesn't disappoint too much.
Remixee author: rainbwoo
Title of work you remixed: tilting the hour glass
Link to work you remixed: http://voicemessage.livejournal.com/4759.html
The only person remotely surprised when Jinyoung tells Wooyoung he’s getting a solo is, predictably, Wooyoung himself.
For all his business acumen and entrepreneurial genius, Jinyoung hyung is really really bad at hiding his emotions, so when Junsu, Wooyoung and Junho are called to a meeting about one of them debuting as a solo artist Junho can immediately see who his preferred choice is. It’s all there in the way Jinyoung praises Junsu for his compositions and thanks him for being a supportive hyung who continues to make sacrifices for his younger brothers. It’s increasingly obvious in the way he turns to Junho and hums a few bars of Give It To Me before promising to secure him television and movie spots in the coming year. It’s downright blatant in the way he’s careful to avoid praising Wooyoung, his silence a clear hint that Wooyoung is lacking in some department compared to the other two.
Junho would be offended on his behalf if he didn’t a) suspect what Jinyoung was about to give Wooyoung, and b) enjoy the attention so much.
For all his quick wit and clever mind, Wooyoung is really really bad at seeing what’s right there in front of him, so when Jinyoung (finally) gets to the heart of the matter and says he wants one of them to release a solo, Wooyoung immediately turns to Junsu.
“Hyung, it has to be you.” He grabs Junsu’s hand and laces their fingers together. “J to the U N K to da A Y~!”
Junsu meets Junho’s gaze over the top of Wooyoung’s head and rolls his eyes. Junho mouths he just doesn’t get it back to him and tiredly rubs his forehead. How Wooyoung can be so perceptive with some things and so obtuse with others is something he’ll never understand.
Junsu extricates his hand and gives Wooyoung a patient smile. “I don’t think so.” He cuts off Wooyoung’s automatic protest with a warning finger. “I already released a solo song last year, and composed a lot of songs for 2PM. I think I should give this opportunity to my little brothers.” The words echo Jinyoung’s from before and Junho doesn’t miss the way Jinyoung’s chest puffs up a little with pride on the other side of the table.
Wooyoung is silent for a moment. “Then…” he turns in his seat to look at Junho and his face is a battlefield, confusion and uncertainty warring with conviction and hope. You should do this his eyes say, then he blinks and it’s I want this too then his lashes flutter once more and the message is I can’t I won’t don’t do this to me.
Like Junho has a choice.
He squashes the surge of jealousy that bubbled up his throat the moment he realised what this would be about, pushes it down down down to somewhere under his ribs, south of his heart. He takes a deep breath and rummages in his collection of smiles for the one that will help the most right now, pinning it on and feeling his lips curve into the tiniest of comforting grins. “You should do it, Wooyoung-ah,” he says, leaning forward in his chair until his knee touches Wooyoung’s leg. “I want a solo debut, but I’m not ready for it yet.”
“Neither am I!” Wooyoung protests but it’s already too late.
The rest of the meeting passes in a flurry of rewritten schedules and future arrangements, and Wooyoung is quiet afterwards as they make their way downstairs.
“Wait,” he calls out as Junho is about to open the front door. The receptionist gives them a startled look but Wooyoung ignores it, glancing between Junho and Junsu and biting his lip.
Junho turns back from the door and raises his eyebrow. Junsu pauses in the middle of putting on his sunglasses. “What’s wrong?”
“If I do this, and I’m saying if,” Wooyoung says slowly, the anxious fingers tapping on this thigh the only thing belying his calm appearance, “I want your songs on the album. I want to sing your songs.” He looks down and shoves his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. “I think…I think that will help.”
Junsu puts on his sunglasses and grabs Wooyoung in a headlock, tugging him to his chest. “Oh you cute thing! Who’s my adorable dongsaeng? Who’s my widdle solo artist?!”
“Hyung!” Wooyoung’s voice is muffled but his laughter is clear as he struggles in Junsu’s hold, further bewildering the poor receptionist.
Junho waits till Wooyoung has broken free of Junsu’s grip and sucked in a few mouthfuls of fresh air before sweeping him into a bear hug of his own.
--
The rest of the members are even more supportive of the news than he and Junsu were, and it belatedly occurs to Junho there may have been more than one reason the three of them went to the meeting together.
He has to admit he’s still a little jealous. There’s still that slight sting under his heart from a tattoo that says not good enough in ink only he can see, but it’s Wooyoung. Junho knows how hard he works, how deserving he is. He knows his drive, his talent, his work ethic. He knows Wooyoung can succeed.
He'll just do better with Junho’s help.
He watches Chansung piggyback Wooyoung in a victory lap around the living room as Taecyeon films it on his phone and Nichkhun flops helplessly on the couch, laughing and holding his belly. Wading into the chaos, Junho grabs Wooyoung’s arm as Chansung makes another pass.
“Yah!” He shouts. Chansung skids to a halt, panting and giggling, and Wooyoung turns his head to face Junho, resting his cheek on Chansung’s shoulder and giving him a silly grin. He looks so happy, so vibrant, so hopeful that Junho knows he’s made the right decision. “Yah,” he says again, softer this time.
Taecyeon pockets his phone and comes to stand behind Junho, leaning his considerable weight on his back. “Why are you breaking up the party, bossy boots!”
Junsu wanders in with a pink and blue box. “Are we playing good hyung bad hyung, because I brought ice cream cake and I’m pretty sure that makes me the favourite.”
“Junho’s not a hyung though,” Nichkhun points out, ever the voice of logic.
Wooyoung taps Chansung’s back twice and Chansung straightens, letting Wooyoung slide to the floor. “He’s a hyung in spirit.”
Junho rolls his eyes. “I just wanted to say-“
“Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung says, nodding solemnly.
“-that since you’ve made this decision-“
“Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung says again, pushing Taecyeon off Junho's shoulders before steering him towards the kitchen.
“-I’m going to fully support you and write you the best possible song to show both our talents and mrphhhfft.” Junho’s inspirational speech dies a premature death as Wooyoung takes a forkful of ice cream cake and shoves it in his mouth. He coughs on a far too large chunk of cookies and cream.
“Yes, hyung, I get it.” Wooyoung hands him a tissue and waits while Junho wipes his mouth, leaning in close just as Junho’s ready to speak again. “I get it.” The words are quiet and earnest and Junho knows he means them, knows he understands how Junho feels. They’ve always been similar in temperament, their personalities close, and Junho thanks their connection for the understanding here.
And then Nichkhun drifts into the kitchen and gravitates to Wooyoung, bending down slightly and opening his mouth expectantly for some ice cream cake of his own. Wooyoung tsks and protests loudly at Nichkhun’s assumption that he’d feed him, but then he digs out a piece anyway, a small neat square of cherry delight.
As he pops it into Nichkhun’s waiting mouth Junho is reminded that the connection doesn’t always work, and there are some things that Wooyoung will never understand.
--
The early days are exciting, even for Junho on the sidelines. Wooyoung is whisked off to production meetings every day and he comes back to the villa and tells them all about the boxes full of demo disks and dossiers of style concepts.
“I think the market is ready for your trot album,” Taecyeon tells him and is rewarded with a couch cushion to the face.
Chansung is thoughtful. “It’s hard to know what to do though, right? Like you’ll still be ‘Jang Wooyoung of 2PM’ so the public will be expecting a dance track. If you do it, you’re playing it safe, but if you challenge that you’ll be pushing them out of their comfort zone.”
Wooyoung sends him a grateful look from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. “That’s exactly my problem. What do people want?”
“That’s the 23 million dollar question,” Junsu sighs.
“What about a romantic ballad?” Nichkhun suggests, picking up Wooyoung’s hand and threading their fingers together. Wooyoung’s still looking at Chansung so he misses the encouraging smile Nichkhun gives him, but Junho sees it and the invisible tattoo flares again.
“I want to do that.”
Everyone turns to stare at Junho. He bites the inside of his cheek and counts to three - the outburst had taken him by surprise too. He tries again. “I mean, if there’s going to be a ballad, I want to write it. Wooyoung and I, we’ve already done a dance track. We can do something different this time.”
Taecyeon sighs and rests his chin on his hand. “When will you write me a ballad, Junho?”
“That would be never,” Junho replies pleasantly. Taecyeon lets out a dramatic cry and falls into Chansung’s lap.
“Shh hyung,” Chansung murmurs and pats his head.
Wooyoung’s looking at Junho now, his eyes bright and interested. “Are you sure?”
Junho shrugs and picks at the button on the couch cushion in his lap. “Sure, I mean ballads are the easiest. They come naturally, you know. I just need to tap into the emotion and it’ll happen.”
After a moment, Wooyoung nods, sharp and decisive. “Ok, good. Let’s do it,” he pauses and his lips quirk in amusement, “hyung.”
Junho could get used to this.
--
As time goes on and the clock starts ticking the excitement fades and exhaustion sets in. Wooyoung is the first to leave in the morning and the last one to come back in the evening and it’s obvious the schedule and the stress are taking their toll. Without the cover of makeup the bags under his eyes are dark as bruises, and Junho thinks Wooyoung would be celebrating the fact that he’s finally lost weight in the cheek area if he wasn’t too busy to notice it’s gone.
Junho’s been busy with his own things - Jinyoung’s promises of television exposure weren’t empty after all - but Wooyoung’s working five times harder than anyone else. No one in 2PM is lazy (except for Junsu when it comes to doing chores around the apartment) but Wooyoung’s gruelling schedule is putting the rest of them to shame.
Maybe Junho would feel less guilty if he could write that ballad he’d promised Wooyoung, the one that was meant to be easy and natural, the one he just needed the emotion for. Ever since saying that, however, the well of inspiration he usually dipped into has completely dried up. He stares at his composing notebook in every spare minute, willing a refrain to pop into being, doodling random words in the hope a catchy lyric will be born.
Nothing is forthcoming.
He sighs and reaches for his phone, hitting the power button and wincing as the time flashes onto the screen. 4:30 AM. Time to sleep. He sighs again and stretches, flipping his notebook shut so he doesn’t have to look at his latest pathetic lyric attempt, before getting to his feet and wincing at the rush of feeling to his toes. He shuffles out to the kitchen with a yawn and freezes in the doorway.
Wooyoung’s standing over the sink, a full glass of water in one hand and a small mountain of pills in the other. The open pill bottle sits on the draining board, two-thirds empty. Wooyoung stiffens at his entrance but tips the pills into his mouth before turning.
His eyes are dark and careful as he looks at Junho over the top of his glass as he drinks, his rhythmic swallows the only sound in the quiet kitchen.
“What are those?” Sometimes Junho can be careful too, so he keeps the accusation from his tone.
Wooyoung pulls away from the glass with a wet intake of breath. “Nothing.” He finishes the last of the water. “Can’t sleep.”
“Oh.” Junho doesn’t know what to say to that so he crosses slowly to the fridge, checking inside for longer than necessary before pulling out the milk he’d originally came for. He rolls the bottle around in his hands as he thinks. Should he say something? Should he ignore it? To hell with it. “You shouldn’t rely too much on those pills.”
Wooyoung turns to the sink again and Junho can’t help but notice the jut of his shoulder blades under his thin t-shirt, his back looking small and narrow as he twists the tap and quickly washes out the glass. “Can’t. My insomnia is getting worse. I’m tired and I can't sleep, but I need it to function properly. You know?”
Junho doesn’t, not really. They’re busy, they’re all busy, but he’s never been pulled in as many different directions as Wooyoung is right now. He can imagine it, though, he can put the pieces together from what he’s seen of Wooyoung’s schedule and heard from the staff. He wishes it wasn’t like this. He wishes Wooyoung didn’t have to do all this on his own.
“Yeah,” he says, the lie flat and heavy on his tongue. It’s better if he drops it; the less time he spends discussing this the more time Wooyoung has to sleep. “Go take a rest now.”
Wooyoung swallows, relief flashing across his face as he takes a step towards the hall. “You go back to bed soon,” he instructs, brushing past Junho on his way out. “Goodnight.”
“Night,” Junho echoes, but the kitchen is empty. He takes a swig of the milk then takes the bottle back to his bedroom, setting it on his desk and flipping open his notebook one more time.
At last, the words have come. He picks up his pencil and writes.
--
The melody takes longer, notes coming in bits and pieces - a touch of the chorus from the hiss of a kettle, the bridge from a bell on a bicycle in the street. Junho weaves the notes together at last on the plane from Gimpo to Narita and he puts the finishing touches on it while getting his makeup done for their final concert in Japan.
He snaps the notebook shut with a satisfied grin, then glances across to where Wooyoung’s stylists are working on him. His makeup generally takes a little longer since they have to even out his eyes, but lately they’ve needed to do more than that - concealing the shadows under his eyes and dealing with the stress pimples that always seem to target his chin. His usually perfect posture looks awkward from where Junho is and when he twists in his chair he can see it’s because Wooyoung is fast asleep sitting up, mouth slightly open and head tilted back.
Junho unconsciously moves to rise from his chair and is halted by a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t wake him,” Nichkhun murmurs. He’s gazing at Wooyoung, his expression equal parts indulgence and concern.
“I wasn’t going to.” Junho doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend himself. He hugs his notebook to his chest.
Nichkhun smiles down at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Just in case you were,” he says, before catching sight of the notebook in Junho’s arms. “Oh, did you finish it?!”
Junho wanted Wooyoung to be the first to know. “Not quite,” he hedges, then he’s saved from having to dodge the truth further by an ungraceful snort from Wooyoung’s chair as he jerks awake.
“Mmm wasn’t sleeping,” he announces groggily to the room at large.
Nichkhun catches Junho’s eye in the mirror and grins. “No one said you were,” he replies easily, loping across the room to tickle him under the chin. “Look how happy and alert you are!”
“Aish,” Wooyoung grumbles, angling away from Nichkhun’s fingers. “You’ll smudge my makeup.”
Junho tucks the notebook into his backpack and gets ready to go on stage. He can tell Wooyoung later.
--
The empty message field taunts him, the blank space under the address line a silent accusation. But what to tell him, what to say to a perfectionist whose first stage didn’t go at all as planned?
Should he send him comforting platitudes? A joke? An unrelated picture of his cat?
Junho’s sense of humour is, as he likes to tell people, an acquired taste, but Wooyoung always gets him. Wooyoung always laughs at his jokes. (Chansung does too, but Chansung laughs at everything so Junho figures he doesn’t count.)
Wooyoung could do with a laugh right now, Junho thinks, so he goes for option b and sends the joke. It’s in poor taste, but he thinks Wooyoung will forgive him.
TO: JWY SOLO ARTIST
FROM: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
MNet? More like MWet.
TO: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
FROM: JWY SOLO ARTIST
Hyung ㅠㅠ
TO: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
FROM: JWY SOLO ARTIST
ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
TO: JWY SOLO ARTIST
FROM: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
Next time will be better.
TO: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
FROM: JWY SOLO ARTIST
How can you be sure?
TO: JWY SOLO ARTIST
FROM: LEE JUNHO, ESQ.
Because next time, I'll be there.
--
The showcase is better. A hundred times better. A thousand times. More.
It’s streamed and recorded and there’s pressure (and the press) but Wooyoung is in his element, smiling and laughing and interacting with the fans. He’s comfortable and poised today, a far cry from the stiff nervousness of the blue carpet and the jerky movements of his debut stage. Junho watches him from the back of the room with cautious relief.
The fans are cheering, the press are chatting and the mood is good. The crowd is a happy one and their energy is infectious, so much so that even Junho can almost forget that the start time was delayed.
It would have been delayed further had he not reached into Taecyeon’s pocket and pulled out his phone, swiftly entering the pin code and heading straight to his contacts.
“What the-hey! Junho, what are you doing?” Taecyeon is as slow to get off the ground as the showcase and Junho’s already brought up Nichkhun’s number by the time he snatches the phone back. He frowns at the screen then looks up at Junho. “Why?”
Junho crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. “Juseob hyung has Wooyoung’s phone.” He jerks his chin to where their manager is gesticulating at some cameramen, the familiar phone case clearly tucked into his back pocket. It’s not uncommon for their managers to take care of their particulars when performing, but Junho has his own suspicions as to why it was taken away.
Taecyeon seems to have suspicions too, but they’re all about Junho right now. “So?” he prompts, his phone screen still illuminating Nickhun’s contact page. “What magic can Khun do to get this moving along?”
“Crucio,” Junho mutters under his breath, then shakes his head at Taecyeon’s curious look. “Just give it to him, if I’m wrong you can publicly humiliate me or something.”
Taecyeon narrows his eyes at him in contemplation before shrugging and turning to push through the crowd. “I’m holding you to that!”
“You do it anyway!” Junho calls after him.
Four minutes later the showcase starts.
--
From the first night it becomes a tradition that whoever is home when Wooyoung is performing on a music show must watch it and text him encouragement and praise. Junho’s at a magazine shoot the first Thursday night, on a quiz show the first Friday night and en route to appointments both days on the first weekend, so he vows to be available on the second week of promotions.
Due to unforeseen circumstances he’s busy again during that week, but he gets in just before Music Core starts on the third Saturday and drops his bag in the foyer and sprints to the living room, climbing over Chansung to take the prime viewing position in the centre of the couch. Chansung groans but doesn’t protest and even offers Junho his bag of chips (Junho politely declines).
They sit in comfortable silence through LED Apple and various new girl groups, tap their feet along to Boom’s comeback single and unashamedly sing along to Sistar. Finally the camera cuts to the MCs, Tiffany and Seohyun leaning away from the camera as Taeyeon mimics Wooyoung’s dance pose, casually resting an elbow on Seohyun’s shoulder as she peels off a pair of sunglasses.
“Are all you sexy ladies ready?” she asks the camera.
“Yes!” Chansung cheers.
“Jang Wooyoung!” she cries and the camera spins up and away as the opening notes blare out.
Junho doesn’t even realise he’s on the edge of his seat until he falls off the couch.
--
Wooyoung wins.
--
He wins.
--
Junho and Chansung have cheered themselves hoarse by the time Wooyoung gets back but they obligingly cheer some more, share some soju and take turns telling him how fantastic he was. Taecyeon is in charge of downloading Wooyoung’s performance cuts in high definition so they can’t rewatch the win until he gets back from an overnight schedule but Wooyoung assures them it’s ok.
“I was there,” he points out, unconsciously stroking his trophy to punctuate. “And you saw it, that’s enough for me.”
His eyes keep straying to the front door though, and even after a bottle of soju Junho can tell it’s not quite enough, not yet.
He washes down his disappointment with another glass and shakes his head when Chansung goes to pour him some more. “We should sleep.”
Chansung pouts. “But it’s a celebration!” He reaches for another bottle of soju and accidentally knocks it over instead. “Oops.”
Junho exchanges glances with Wooyoung and Wooyoung sighs, getting to his feet and tucking his hands under Chansung’s arms. “Upsy daisy,” he sings, tugging Chansung upright with herculean effort. Chansung stumbles and wraps his arm around Wooyoung’s head, nuzzling into his blond hair and letting out a contented sigh.
“Wooyoungie is the best.”
Junho steps forward and grabs Chansung’s other arm. “Together, let’s go together.”
They safely deposit Chansung in his room and tuck him into bed before making their way back to the living room. Wooyoung sits back on the couch and looks surprised when Junho shakes his head. “I’m going to bed.”
“Oh.” Wooyoung seems a little lost. “You’re tired already?”
Junho’s not, but Nichkhun’s plane was due to arrive an hour ago and in the interest of self-preservation Junho doesn’t want to be here when he gets in.
He shrugs and crouches next to the trophy. “You earned this.” He reaches out and strokes a finger over the crystal facets, the smooth finish cool and unyielding under his fingertip. “I hope you know that.”
Wooyoung picks at the denim of his jeans. “I couldn’t have done it without everyone else.”
Junho’s not so sure about that, but there are just some things that Wooyoung doesn’t see. “Don’t stay up too late,” he says instead, straightening and rolling his neck. “And--oomph!”
Wooyoung collides with his back, winding his arms around Junho’s chest and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I mean it,” he says fiercely into the side of Junho’s neck. “I could only keep going because of you all. I could only keep working because I wanted to show you the best performances, because I didn’t want to let you down. I really couldn’t have done it without you guys, and especially you.” Junho stays very still, in case he moves and shatters whatever this is. “I know we’ve been making that dumb hyung joke for a while now but sometimes…it’s really like you’re looking after me. Thank you.” He squeezes extra hard one more time then steps back.
Junho just stares straight ahead and doesn’t blink. His eyes are feeling suspiciously damp and blinking might make things worse. “Good night,” he says after a minute, an inadequate reply, but he and Wooyoung have a connection.
It may not be whatever Wooyoung and Khun have, but for Junho, for the moment, it’s enough.
--
Wooyoung sits back in his chair and lifts his headphones off with a satisfied sigh. “It’s perfect.”
Junho flushes from the unexpected praise. “You really think so?”
“We~ll…”
“I knew it was too good to be true,” Junho huffs comically, but in truth he is a little stung. He should be used to it by now since the invisible tattoo still hurts sometimes, but his heart forgets so his body does too.
Wooyoung reaches over the table and takes Junho’s hand in his own, linking their fingers together and squeezing tight. Junho’s breath catches; he can’t keep up. “Really.” Wooyoung looks at him, focuses on him, gives him his full attention, and that’s always been a powerful and dangerous thing. “It’s a great song. I need to listen to it again before I can give you any real feedback but it’s beautiful. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it? It would sound smoother with your voice.”
“It’s for you,” Junho says. He can’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes. “I wrote it for you.”
Wooyoung’s fingers curl in one last squeeze then he lets go and sits back. Junho feels bereft. “Then thank you.” He pauses and his lips quirk into a grin. “Hyung.”
Junho coughs and sits up straighter in his chair. “Just remember to thank me in your acceptance speech whenever you win a music show.”
Wooyoung is startled into a bark of laughter, low and genuine, and for one trembling moment Junho wishes that things were different.
And then the moment passes and nothing has changed and Junho is content with that. Because Wooyoung will succeed and Junho will be there, with him.
Every step of the way.