[ fic ] double blind
MBLAQ | joon focus, joon/mir | PG | 1,323 w
distance makes the heart...
written originally for kpop-olymfics 2013
It was two parts affection, one part distance.
At the very least those were the components that Changsun had been able to identify. It wasn't quite sufficient to describe the situation and the feelings it stirred inside him, but that third mysterious component remained just so. Mysterious, intangible, it hung at the edge of his awareness, present but impossible to name.
It was one of those periods when his schedule was so packed he scarcely slept and only occasionally saw the other guys. Distance, it was something that couldn't be controlled when they lived with someone else planning their day to day lives. He didn't resent it; he worked hard, he liked working hard, exhausting himself until he thought he was close to perfect. It was his job and he loved his job.
This wasn't about his job.
That one part distance was crucial, utterly necessary to drive him quietly insane. Those moments between one schedule and the next were filled with wandering thoughts when he should have been trying to sleep instead. He was trying to visualise a familiar face, so familiar the features became blurred.
He nodded off and jerked into wakefulness (seemingly in the same second), his phone vibrating with a new message alert in his pocket.
It's cold today... Be careful and stay warm...!
The warm air blowing in his face from the air vent was making his throat dry actually.
He grinned, felt his lips crack just a bit at the stretch, as potential replies came to mind in a sickeningly sweet list.
It's warm here.
You should be here to warm me up then ^^
I will.
Changsun never replied in the end, instead he drifted off again until someone shook him awake. The thought of that familiar face slipped from his thoughts as quickly as it came. Work was work, love was love.
But with more days passing with barely any contact it became difficult. Seeing his schedule so filled with solo activities rather than feeling elated he was disappointed. It became bitter, like a drink mixed wrong.
The things that happened on camera were at times an exaggeration, and at times a complete lie. There was no way to be completely honest when there were so many lenses pointed their way. Truth was never meant to be placed under that kind of scrutiny; it would inevitably become too ugly.
Sometimes Changsun looked at their photos, it was especially surprising when he looked at fan-taken ones. Sometimes, he didn't like what he saw. There were photos where he was caught mid blink, photos where the light seemed to cast shadows too harshly at his cheeks (he wasn’t that thin, certainly the cameras and mirrors were all somehow distorted), a hundred things that weren't quite right jumped out at him all at once.
He wasn’t sure if he liked or hated the pictures of them together either.
(In the past week it was the only time he got to look at that face, familiar and missed.)
Was he drawing closer or pulling away? These were the kind of moments he never noticed, never quite realised existed, and when confronted with them it bothered him. It made him wonder what they looked like to outsiders and he wondered why that even mattered.
He ended up reading old interviews and watching old videos even if it was hard to see anything clearly on his smart phone screen. It probably wasn't healthy to scrutinise his own behaviour like that.
Did he really say that?
Wasn't he really moody and distant there?
Why exactly did he pull away?
It was wrong, the ratio was off. One part affection, two parts distance; that was what it was looking like. Was it bitter for him too, Changsun wondered.
His voice coming from the speakers of his phone sounded like a stranger.
The voice of someone he didn't recognise forced him to end his obsessive analysis. He wasn't sure what was more toxic, his mentality or the inability for him to find more than a half hour of privacy. Another moment wouldn't have given him any answers but it was the worse moment possible to be pulled from that video. It left him with his own voice clattering against the inside of his skull, like ice melting and tumbling in an abandoned glass.
(But did he know that Changsun missed him? He had to know, right?)
Their dorm was quiet. It was strange to think of it as ‘their’ dorm when he spent so little time there anymore. But some of his things were still there and he didn't want it any other way, for all of them it was still ‘their’ dorm regardless of who actually slept there.
He liked his privacy, but it was impossible to not miss the company. The nights when Seungho would keep him company out of concern for his sleeplessness, mornings when he laughed at Cheolyong's sleepy face, all of them side by side. Privacy was a lot emptier than their dorm when he had occasion to stay at home (so maybe he didn't like privacy as much as he thought he did).
It was disconcerting to come back and see little changes that he hadn't been a part of. It was a little sad to see how life trickled by without his presence. It felt like that distance was constantly expanding, between him and everyone. It was only bitter, without the sweetness that made it tolerable and addictive.
At some point things had begun to degrade, rather than being MBLAQ's Lee Joon he just felt like Lee Joon. But that wasn't even his name.
He looked up at the sound of shuffling footsteps and a door opening and closing, Cheolyong walked towards him wearing that old pikachu hat like a sleeping cap. It was something else that Changsun had simply left behind so that he would only see it here, he liked it that way. That was what he'd thought anyways, he didn't really know what he liked or wanted a lot of the times, just felt surrounded and lonely.
(He wanted to be held, to be babied a little, even though he was the older one. That’s what he thought.)
"Hyung?" Cheolyong's voice was confused and still sleepy when Changsun slumped against him, hugging or just leaning on him. His hands patted at Changsun's shoulder awkwardly. "What's wrong?"
(If it was something that could be explained it wouldn't be a problem.)
"I'm tired," he mumbled as he tried to suck up the feeling of closeness. It really wasn't that long since he'd seen Cheolyong but compared to when they were promoting together it was a long time, there was nothing objective about his perception. He was thin, they were both thin, stretched and barely there. He could have been holding anyone.
"Then get some rest. You can use my bed," Cheolyong said with a quiet laugh, his voice was just a bit hollow and just a bit flat. They swayed together a bit, almost like Cheolyong was trying to rock him to sleep. Was this what he'd been looking forward to?
"I'm not that tired."
(He didn’t know what he wanted.)
"Joonie hyung," he said more firmly, as if calling him by that name might make him focus. Cheolyong's arms around him, his voice, and even how warm he was, Changsun couldn't focus on any of it.
"Just sleep for a little bit," Cheolyong continued, pulling back with a sweet, tired smile. Even though Cheolyong was right in front of him he felt like he could barely see him, as if his features were blurring. Had his smile always looked so flat and tight?
Two parts to one, one to one, and then something else he couldn't name that seemed to overpower everything. Even close like this he couldn't taste the sweetness that should have been there, he could only taste one flavour.
They were bitter.
distance makes the heart...
written originally for kpop-olymfics 2013
It was two parts affection, one part distance.
At the very least those were the components that Changsun had been able to identify. It wasn't quite sufficient to describe the situation and the feelings it stirred inside him, but that third mysterious component remained just so. Mysterious, intangible, it hung at the edge of his awareness, present but impossible to name.
It was one of those periods when his schedule was so packed he scarcely slept and only occasionally saw the other guys. Distance, it was something that couldn't be controlled when they lived with someone else planning their day to day lives. He didn't resent it; he worked hard, he liked working hard, exhausting himself until he thought he was close to perfect. It was his job and he loved his job.
This wasn't about his job.
That one part distance was crucial, utterly necessary to drive him quietly insane. Those moments between one schedule and the next were filled with wandering thoughts when he should have been trying to sleep instead. He was trying to visualise a familiar face, so familiar the features became blurred.
He nodded off and jerked into wakefulness (seemingly in the same second), his phone vibrating with a new message alert in his pocket.
It's cold today... Be careful and stay warm...!
The warm air blowing in his face from the air vent was making his throat dry actually.
He grinned, felt his lips crack just a bit at the stretch, as potential replies came to mind in a sickeningly sweet list.
It's warm here.
You should be here to warm me up then ^^
I will.
Changsun never replied in the end, instead he drifted off again until someone shook him awake. The thought of that familiar face slipped from his thoughts as quickly as it came. Work was work, love was love.
But with more days passing with barely any contact it became difficult. Seeing his schedule so filled with solo activities rather than feeling elated he was disappointed. It became bitter, like a drink mixed wrong.
The things that happened on camera were at times an exaggeration, and at times a complete lie. There was no way to be completely honest when there were so many lenses pointed their way. Truth was never meant to be placed under that kind of scrutiny; it would inevitably become too ugly.
Sometimes Changsun looked at their photos, it was especially surprising when he looked at fan-taken ones. Sometimes, he didn't like what he saw. There were photos where he was caught mid blink, photos where the light seemed to cast shadows too harshly at his cheeks (he wasn’t that thin, certainly the cameras and mirrors were all somehow distorted), a hundred things that weren't quite right jumped out at him all at once.
He wasn’t sure if he liked or hated the pictures of them together either.
(In the past week it was the only time he got to look at that face, familiar and missed.)
Was he drawing closer or pulling away? These were the kind of moments he never noticed, never quite realised existed, and when confronted with them it bothered him. It made him wonder what they looked like to outsiders and he wondered why that even mattered.
He ended up reading old interviews and watching old videos even if it was hard to see anything clearly on his smart phone screen. It probably wasn't healthy to scrutinise his own behaviour like that.
Did he really say that?
Wasn't he really moody and distant there?
Why exactly did he pull away?
It was wrong, the ratio was off. One part affection, two parts distance; that was what it was looking like. Was it bitter for him too, Changsun wondered.
His voice coming from the speakers of his phone sounded like a stranger.
The voice of someone he didn't recognise forced him to end his obsessive analysis. He wasn't sure what was more toxic, his mentality or the inability for him to find more than a half hour of privacy. Another moment wouldn't have given him any answers but it was the worse moment possible to be pulled from that video. It left him with his own voice clattering against the inside of his skull, like ice melting and tumbling in an abandoned glass.
(But did he know that Changsun missed him? He had to know, right?)
Their dorm was quiet. It was strange to think of it as ‘their’ dorm when he spent so little time there anymore. But some of his things were still there and he didn't want it any other way, for all of them it was still ‘their’ dorm regardless of who actually slept there.
He liked his privacy, but it was impossible to not miss the company. The nights when Seungho would keep him company out of concern for his sleeplessness, mornings when he laughed at Cheolyong's sleepy face, all of them side by side. Privacy was a lot emptier than their dorm when he had occasion to stay at home (so maybe he didn't like privacy as much as he thought he did).
It was disconcerting to come back and see little changes that he hadn't been a part of. It was a little sad to see how life trickled by without his presence. It felt like that distance was constantly expanding, between him and everyone. It was only bitter, without the sweetness that made it tolerable and addictive.
At some point things had begun to degrade, rather than being MBLAQ's Lee Joon he just felt like Lee Joon. But that wasn't even his name.
He looked up at the sound of shuffling footsteps and a door opening and closing, Cheolyong walked towards him wearing that old pikachu hat like a sleeping cap. It was something else that Changsun had simply left behind so that he would only see it here, he liked it that way. That was what he'd thought anyways, he didn't really know what he liked or wanted a lot of the times, just felt surrounded and lonely.
(He wanted to be held, to be babied a little, even though he was the older one. That’s what he thought.)
"Hyung?" Cheolyong's voice was confused and still sleepy when Changsun slumped against him, hugging or just leaning on him. His hands patted at Changsun's shoulder awkwardly. "What's wrong?"
(If it was something that could be explained it wouldn't be a problem.)
"I'm tired," he mumbled as he tried to suck up the feeling of closeness. It really wasn't that long since he'd seen Cheolyong but compared to when they were promoting together it was a long time, there was nothing objective about his perception. He was thin, they were both thin, stretched and barely there. He could have been holding anyone.
"Then get some rest. You can use my bed," Cheolyong said with a quiet laugh, his voice was just a bit hollow and just a bit flat. They swayed together a bit, almost like Cheolyong was trying to rock him to sleep. Was this what he'd been looking forward to?
"I'm not that tired."
(He didn’t know what he wanted.)
"Joonie hyung," he said more firmly, as if calling him by that name might make him focus. Cheolyong's arms around him, his voice, and even how warm he was, Changsun couldn't focus on any of it.
"Just sleep for a little bit," Cheolyong continued, pulling back with a sweet, tired smile. Even though Cheolyong was right in front of him he felt like he could barely see him, as if his features were blurring. Had his smile always looked so flat and tight?
Two parts to one, one to one, and then something else he couldn't name that seemed to overpower everything. Even close like this he couldn't taste the sweetness that should have been there, he could only taste one flavour.
They were bitter.