@principalles // i haven’t written this au in literal years but i want to now
taeyang had become greedy. maybe a little shamelessly, but with how he easily it shows on his face and how quietly he’s started to mumble it, he thinks he’s retained some of his dignity. not that there’s much to retain after baring himself in front of hyunshik in his apartment, and crying, and having a breakdown. all in less than five minutes? maybe four? a record honestly.
han had promptly laughed after hearing the tale to which taeyang promptly threatened to shove the stretch roller up his ass. that’s what he gets for having a best friend though.
the problem is. time has passed since the incident and taeyang had assumed that their general agreement was to not discuss it. not discuss how taeyang had clung to hyunshik’s body the next morning, refusing to move until the male had said the phrase three times. the second time was because taeyang was convinced he was asleep and the third was because apparently hyunshik got a kick out of the look on his face.
just the thought of it and taeyang’s entire body gives him away.
the real treachery came after a morning where taeyang was sure would be the last time they discussed the incident. with taeyang but a few inches with the male, craving post-breakdown affection with the unfortunate person who’d given him attention the night prior. it’s embarrassing to think about, how he’d asked if they could eat breakfast together and how he’d had to physically suppresses noises of distress when hyunshik hinted at leaving for work that day. but they had lives, jobs to attend to and obligations. and hyunshik’s obligation was not to make taeyang feel better about the parts of himself he couldn’t love.
even if that part was his job.
he would pick himself up after that as always. he would wash his face, stretch and show his face perfectly and pristine in the studio for rehearsals. after the injury healed his restriction was lifted and he was back to the early mornings and the strict regulations. he wasn’t given a moment to breathe and that was probably easier, it should’ve helped the parts of his mind that wanted to stay wrapped in hyunshik. in his words and the way his hands felt, secured and grounding. cupping his face as they whispered the words, holding his shoulders as he held him close when they slept on the couch.
taeyang would be doing an excellent job of this is hyunshik wasn’t determined on making his life a living hell. but see, maybe taeyang’s had him penned wrong. the man with many jobs, a working man, an honest man, he was cunning.
and he hasn’t stopped using all opportunities to bring back those same feelings as if that night was only a day ago.
this includes but isn’t limited to: text messages, snide comments, support at showcases, unnecessary notes. yes hyunshik has found a way to insert something similar to that dreaded phrase each time he sees taeyang and they see each other quite a lot. not that taeyang was avoided him but if he was this would’ve been a hell of a lot harder. but the coffee shop is his favorite, the bar is the only one han will go to and when there’s those lovely galas he’s invited to, hyunshik must be a part of the company they hire to cater.
because he’s sending innocent messages like
outgoing [ did you like the show! ]
incoming [ yeah. you were gorgeous. ]
and getting off the wall responses like that.
it’s them spending days cooking, taeyang stressing over a new recipe that hyunshik’s showing him and hyunshik spending time either laughing at him or observing him. moments that are far too silent and when taeyang seeks to break them with a question of if they’re correct or he needs to change anything he’s met with the stare. a stare far too similar to that night. and the words that accompany them.
or when taeyang gets bold and asks if there’s something on his face he gets a bold,
‘it’s gorgeous don’t worry.’
he’s occasionally walking in the cafe and trying to get his order in when his greeting is along the lines of, ‘what can i get you’ with handsome, gorgeous, beautiful tacked on the end. with little regard to how astonished his co-workers seem to be by the flirtations.
can they be considered flirtations though? they don’t have the same greasiness in the smiles. not the ones he’s used to. because taeyang’s heard these before, he’s dealt with them before. flirty baristas, playful bartenders, lingering hook-ups. he’s dealt with them all and this was not that. because hyunshik’s smile was less of a smirk and more genuine, more sure in the words. maybe it’s because hyunshik’s seen him at his worst, his most open that taeyang wants to believe the smile is genuine and not a joke.
maybe he’s believing that no one could see him like that and have the gall to joke about something so obviously wrong. because it hadn’t been beautiful, he hadn’t looked beautiful and as many times as the words play over in his head, it’s still hard to believe.
but there’s no implication, no raised eyebrows, no winks, no phone numbers scribbled, or hands snuck onto his back or laced drinks. there’s just hyunshik with his words and the same smile that he gives the next customers ( though it’s not as risen for them taeyang will claim that thank you very much ).
hyunshik being candid so smooth that it’s knocking taeyang off-guard every time.
outgoing [ i almost think you’re doing this on purpose. ]
in the time it takes hyunshik to respond taeyang almost regrets the message. but he’s had a bit of wine, sue him.
incoming [ sorry, busy shift. doing what? ]
outgoing [ asjdhgajs you know what!!! ]
incoming [ did you keyboard smash? ]
incoming [ did you drink...? ]
incoming [ where are you? ]
another moment of silence to mourn taeyang’s inconspicuousness. and for how his stomach leaps at the message, and he groans with his head hitting the phone screen.
outgoing [ i had some wne. i’m home mom!!! ]
outgoing [ and thstg not the opint! ]
incoming [ cute. ]
incoming [ okay then, i’ll humor you what’s the point? ]
a lot happens then. because taeyang is momentarily struck by the message. by the image of hyunshik smiling, actually smiling as he types because he is humored and this is all probably fun for him. and taeyang is probably more of a mess than the first time hyunshik had to deal with him drunk. or less, just with more emotions. he feels too much and that’s why the word cute blares on his screen the way it does. that’s why it takes a million takes to type what he really says.
unsent [ the fltying
unsent [ the flrt
unsent [ flrjng wieth merg
unsent [ caalng mr sthings yeou dont measn
thankfully, it takes a gradual amount of wine to get him to send a message that works - or to work up the courage to send it when he thinks it’s acceptable enough.
outgoing [ calling me beautiful. ]
incoming [ and if i am? ]
the good news, taeyang falls asleep before he can embarrass himself further and before he gets a chance to read the response. the bad news, the messages he thought were unsent were sent, completely and fully sent and ready to make his waking hours even more miserable than he’d intended.
han is cackling up a storm the when they see each other seeing as taeyang had mass messaged him the screenshots of his mess the following morning. han had thought it was fun to ask him ‘how are you and hyunshik’ the minute he’d entered the apartment knowing taeyang had resolved to do everything in his power to avoid the male.
the answer was easy, childish but easy.
'you’re scared of how he makes you feel.’
it was a little more than that. taeyang was scared of the rush, of how drunk he’d felt on those simple words. on how he might start to believe them and only believe them because it’s hyunshik and not because of anything else. he was scared on how easily swept up he was by them, how sugary they seemed as if their path would only rot him to the core. or even worse - that he had nothing there left to rot and didn’t deserve the touch. the sweet. it was a dilemma but han wasn’t his friend for his eloquence.
‘so the man tells you you’re gorgeous. not seeing how it’s a bad thing if you feel good tae. it would do you some good to listen to someone, especially in our line of work.’
a line of work where they’re taught their imperfections while being taught to be perfect. they’re set-up for failure, to never have the right image of themselves so that their arrogance doesn’t ever come across to the audience. so that they always remain a product of the eyes and the judgement that watch them. you are not beautiful because you believe yourself to be you are beautiful because you break yourself for others and you try to be, for them. and they might give you the credit, for trying and only trying and living the illusion.
it was hard to believe it and taeyang had never had trouble before with the easy flirts and the quick comments about his figure or his performance, even his face.
but there’s hyunshik saying it in the dark of his room with taeyang’s face tear-stained, body sweat and spent, holding himself together by a broken illusion. there’s hyunshik whispering it so that it can fill in all the cracks that taeyang’s made himself.
and it’s scary. it’s scary how filled he’s feeling by one utterance.
“i don’t want him to feel obligated.”
‘i’m ninety percent sure that’s not the case.’
“i don’t want to fish for the compliments.”
‘fish for them! ask for them everyday who cares!’
han’s advice doesn’t sit in like it should. not for the first two weeks of taeyang’s resolve. to keep his distance as much as he can. he can blame it on rehearsals as always. it leaves messages unanswered, it leaves han picking up their coffee order to bring to the studio, it leaves him at new bars and with other, unfamiliar faces, greasy bartender and fed up baristas. he lets the break in his routine happen if only to break his mind from what might be a trap.
hyunshik must be busy too, because he doesn’t go out of his way to text, which shouldn’t bother taeyang as much as it does. it stings a bit though, as if the drift is only pulling at him.
if it takes a toll on his mental it doesn’t show in his work, at least not that he can tell. han tells him everyday that he needs to stop and talk it out. their choreographer also tells him everyday that he’s messing up, that he’s not good enough for the showcase and taeyang subsequently forgets all the words hyunshik’s told him in favor of that. in favor of the cruelty of his job.
because pride in himself was forbidden, and he’s deserved it.
taeyang’s never had a bad performance, not by critic standards. rookie or amateur yes but nothing serious as a fall on stage of forgetting a routine. he’s got too much muscle memory for that really.
the thing is, he can feel the disappointment coming halfway through the performance. he hasn’t spoken or seen hyunshik in a month, preparing for this opening night. a gala performance that was the introduction to their new musical. a teaser for the lovers of high culture and art, taeyang invited as the star to debut it with the corps.
he’s been eating adequately, been practicing normally but the pressure - maybe it’s the pressure. he tries to rationalize through his movements, through the music what the feeling is. that’s during practice and he can’t quite pinpoint them. the performance is in three hours and he doesn’t have time to figure it out, not with costuming and dress rehearsal, not with getting ready and mingling before. not with the face he has to steel press on the minute he walks into the venue. and he should know that there’s no point in trying to analyze himself and his emotions when it’s the day of performance but he’s doing it and he’s coming up blank.
and he wishes that’s the face he could keep on. but when his choreographer’s called him out on it, in those hours before the show, in the same way he’s been grilling them, breaking him into the new routine. it’s not new but it does wear and tear. as the pressure does, as the stress does, as taeyang lets his body take the hits as much as his soul does. soft despite the years of training and steel he’s supposed to have built up.
‘you’re not giving me your best tae.’
‘i don’t know, we might have to give this to someone else.’
‘this is a debut for our sponsor.’
‘why are you breaking form!’
something feels wrong. and he’s suddenly aware that he was right that he didn’t deserve the compliments, that he didn’t deserve the words. and taeyang can’t remember his routine for clearing himself before a stage despite it all, can’t remember what he would do before hyunshik. because everything done after was so refreshing, healing.
as he tries to steel those thoughts away and smile for a councilwomen, he catches the movement out the corner of his eye. he doesn’t need to look further, doesn’t need to chase it or the voice he hears giving out orders for appetizers. he knows it’s hyunshik, his body knows the sound. and he wants to smile, he wants to run, he wants to do everything in once. but his choreographer’s smile is strong, his misplaced praise drowns out everything and the councilman’s hand on his waist feels tighter than usual. it’s a trap. taeyang’s trapped.
he’s reminded of the perfection he needs and the perfection he lacks.
he can’t see hyunshik anymore, can’t remember what he’s supposed to focus on other than the importance of this performance and the fact that he’s not ready. he’s not perfect, he can’t fake it today and his body won’t shut down enough to let him.
there isn’t enough time and han rubbing his hands before the performance doesn’t help. taeyang staring in the mirror as he finishes the last touches don’t help and the breath he takes before the music starts and the lights dim don’t help.
whatever it is, whatever it is that clogs and prevents him from surrendering to the strive for perfection. it holds him the entire performance. he’s suddenly aware of all the eyes, of all the eyes, of his director’s frown of the awe of the audience and of hyunshik’s eyes. even if he doesn’t quite see them, he knows.
disappointment is an ache he swallows tight while they clap and cheer.
taeyang doesn’t have bad performances, there’s no fall there’s no mistake but he knows. he knows it enough. he knows it as the pictures are taken, as the hands are shaken and flowers and doubled in his arms. he knows because he could hear his breath as the music stopped and the spell was broken. the spell of the character he’s supposed to be for the audience.
he couldn’t create it. he failed.
and his director doesn’t rip into him yet, his choreographer doesn’t, too busy soaking in the praises from the audience. but he knows. when they’ve pulled the corps backstage to recap everything and it’s him, his director and choreographer zoning in on him for fifteen minutes.
‘you lost your character.’
‘your form was terrible.’
‘how could you do that?’
‘you could do better.’
and when it’s over and he faces his own mirror backstage his makeup’s smeared with tears. he’s not exactly crying because he was chewed out by his directors or in front of the corps. no he’s more crying because of the loss of control, because of the sloppiness he’s allowed in something he so deeply cares about. he’s frustrated really, confused and so the tears come.
taeyang hears han calling for him and he makes for the back exit with whatever strength managed to carry him through the performance and hold him up after it all.
as luck would have it he’s heading out the back doors by the alleyways and hearing a voice that doesn’t sound like han’s.
it sounds like a memory. sounds too good to be true and almost like a nightmare in itself.
because taeyang’s whispering not now, why now. but he can’t stop time and he turns to see hyunshik slipping his phone into his pocket, standing by the back entrance of what is probably the kitchen quarters. because of course whatever he was doing ends as taeyang is running from everyone. regardless he’s stopped and more aware of the tear stains on his cheeks, the falling glitter that’s not streaming down his face, and how horrid he must look.
and the fact that now he can’t pretend he didn’t see hyunshik.
“yeah?” taeyang wants to hide, and he does so with his head lowered as he answers, his body folded in and ready to bolt when he can. it’s the first time he’s been aware of his voice since the day started, and the affirmation the he’s not all hear, that he’s been crying, that he can’t quite bring himself together. but he doesn’t move like he wants, he waits.
‘your performance...’ comes first and taeyang feels his body stiffen. he feels his stomach churn and his chest tighten. it’s probably noticeable and his response is immediate, head up as he snaps the words back. there’s nothing sharp about it though, just that it comes desperate and rather rushed. because he doesn’t want to hear the rest, he can’t bear it.
“it was bad i know.” if hyunshik means to say anything against that, taeyang is too quick to respond, too seated in his belief. he failed. he knows. but he’s smiling amongst it. “i wish i could’ve shown you better.” something that matched up to all hyunshik’s said to him.
he’s so seated in the belief that he doesn’t notice hyunshik getting closer, doesn’t notice the hand on his shoulder until he flinches. hyunshik is but a few inches from him, his hand inches from where taeyang’s stepped back, flinched away from it.
‘tae, that’s not.’
“i’m sorry.” the rest of it, the ‘i have to go’ is only said when he’s turning to make his way out the alleyway as he intended and keep the pain that’s constricting his chest until he’s safe in his apartment. it tightens and it suffocates but it’s easier when it’s caught in his pillow. when it’s smothered and stuck in the walls of his apartment.
if his phone is ringing multiple times he doesn’t try to check why, or who it could be. instead he only answers his door when he hears han’s voice on the opposite side. lets his friend engulf him in a hug and hold him with plans of ice cream and nothing remotely related to dance or the performance. han doesn’t try to convince him of anything, that he didn’t bomb the performance ( though he makes a few quips about their director ), he doesn’t mention seeing or not seeing hyunshik or that taeyang’s been crying and probably looks a mess. he just mentions that they should order more food since ice cream isn’t nearly enough.
taeyang is a wimp so he gets han to open the messages hyunshik sent him, just for the sake of getting rid of the notification. and han doesn’t complain, lets him be in his moods and his avoidance for as long as he needs. taeyang can’t face the messages, for a multitude of reasons but the top being he needs to get himself together before he tries to engage whatever hyunshik had said, whether it’s anger at leaving him without a word, ignoring him, or god forbid those sweet words that’d held him above the tide for so long.
so there’s practice again. there’s the bend and the break. the edge that he faces each day, trying to stay afloat it all, present and drowned in his work. it’s hard but he makes it, he always makes it.
he has to rewatch the performance but this time when he does it’s in the comfort of his room, with his pup curled in his lap. he analyzes and what he can’t quite steel away he lets fall on the pads of his finger and his screen.
maybe he’d been so uncomfortable because he’s used to sharing these moments alone. the deconstruction that he had to do to himself in order to be great. he was so used to doing it alone that doing it with hyunshik even once, had thrown him off balance. it’d felt good - so good but taeyang was scared of it feeling like the best and getting attached, addicted. to the point that if hyunshik disappeared he wouldn’t be able to return.
return to what though - as if this routine was any healthier.
it worked though, working himself to the bone.
he’s not banned from the official debut, he’s just expected to do better, to be perfect in every sense of the word. and slowly he gets his rhythm back, it’s not as smooth, feels a bit stretched and awkward but it’s a rhythm and it produces results. what bothers him is that it doesn’t feel smooth but it’s definitely the routine he was used to before all this. before the feelings and breaking himself over for the man with the calloused hands and the candid smile.
when the time comes dress rehearsal has gone different. he’s in his head but he’s not as afraid. he can feel the muscle memory, can feel the haze of the music as it’s all but set and soaked in his brain. he doesn’t review much as he stretches backstages and just repeats affirmations, perfection, perfection, perfection.
‘ready to shine?’ han is meeting him backstage, no doubt after dropping his arm candy off in their auditorium seats. in his hand are a small bouquet of flowers that he places on the vanity.
“rude of you to give me flowers your date brought.”
‘asshole, they’re not from me to you. but they’re definitely for you.’ they’re a mixture of pink flowers, white ones and blues, all taeayng’s favorite colors. there’s a note inside, yellow with a silver pattern around the border. taeyang is used to getting flowers before big shows, though they usually come afterwards. intrigued that han is bringing a set personally, he reaches for the note.
and sputters when he reads it.
they’re being called though and he’s being ushered up and out to the stage.
the performance is a bit of a blur. which is a good! that’s good, his muscle memory saved him and he was able to deliver as flawlessly as expected. does he have critiques for himself, yes. but nothing a few reviews couldn’t fix and not enough for his director to pull him aside. so he’s content. he usually feels an airy bliss when he’s come down from performing, the curtain lowering and the high subsequently falling, settling into the noise of his head and the noise of the audience.
he’s breathing again but this time it’s because he’s running. past those asking for picture, past the corps and past everyone until he reaches the lobby. until he reaches hyunshik, the yellow note tight in his fist and his other fist reaching for the back of the male’s jacket.
his voice stops when hyunshik turns to meet him, and his hand starts to loosen on the hold. what had he run for, what was he even going to say. the note is crumpled and sweaty in his palm and hyunshik’s gaze is, surprised and then calm. patient.
what had he planned on saying?
beautiful as always. it read.
“you hadn’t even seen the performance.”
‘doesn’t mean i didn’t think you’d be.’
“but - you couldn’t have known.”
you can’t have that kind of faith. is what he means, it’s what he doesn’t say. as if not giving him the chance to continue his thoughts hyunshik’s closed in, and his hands are lifting taeyang’s head from his chin. taeyang’s then aware that his eyes are watering again, that he feels powerless but in a different way.
‘you always are. tonight. before tonight. i’m sorry i didn’t get to tell you that at the last one.’
why is he apologizing. he doesn’t need to apologize. taeyang has so many, so many apologies lined up, ready. but he’s hiccuping and hyunshik is smiling so sweet, so sincere.
‘it’s hard to get tickets for this one so i was working to afford it - then han went and invited me for free.’
it’s not right, he doesn’t deserve this. not the devotion. not hyunshik working extra for him. not hyunshik still smiling while tears roll down his cheek, while his hands shake and find purchase in his tuxedo jacket.
“you don’t have to be nice.”
‘taeyang, i am anything but nice.’ taeyang’s heard those stories. of how strict hyunshik was viewed by other employees, by other customers. he’s heard him take orders before, handle rowdy guests and even dismiss people who were far less annoying than han. he knows nice isn’t exactly the right word, but mean isn’t either. ‘i’m just honest.’
more tears fall and they start to run over hyunshik’s thumb. taeyang’s a sniffling mess, his head is scrambling again but in a way that’s more how his stomach feels. an onslaught of emotions, rather than the thoughts, it’s all getting blanked, overrun.
‘what i think is beautiful, is beautiful. whether he believes it yet or not. so i will say it because why not? why shouldn’t I?’
taeyang doesn’t have the heart to think how he doesn’t deserve it. the thoughts can’t penetrate right now. he’s filled with thoughts of this smile, of this touch. of hyunshik inches from him, of the cologne sprayed on his cuff links, of the cup of his hand on his cheek and every brush of tears that comes after. how can he thinks when he’s all static and it’s all screaming for the man in front of it again. how can he deny himself the indulgence when hyunshik has already made up his mind about it.
how could he deny himself anything less.
“can you say it again...please.” he allows himself to be shameless.
‘you were beautiful tonight taeyang.’ so hyunshik says it and so taeyang lets himself believe it for the moment. for the kisses placed on his forehead and his cheeks, for the laughter so easily pulled from his lips and the kisses stolen from there as well. it’s cute and it’s light and taeyang feels like he’s soaring, letting hyunshik fit arms around his waist and shield him as they head to his apartment.
he’s a giggling mess from all the kisses and the repeated whispers of the same phrase. he’s become a little greedy now, attacking hyunshik for more when they cross the threshold of the elder man’s home.
“i’m sorry for running away last time.”
‘mhm.’
“and i’m sorry for ignoring your messages.”
‘mhm.’
“and i’m sorry for avoiding you at the same time.”
‘hm.’
all said between kisses, distractions really.
“say it again?” the question is shy, tucked into the white undershirt of the tux and the spot he’s occupied with hyunshik’s chin atop his head and his arms fastened around the elder’s body. hyunshik says it again and again, long after he’s wiped away all the tears. long after the traces of makeup are just a few black streaks and lingering sparkles. long after taeyang’s found a pair of trousers and a hoodie to throw on and they’re in a bed not a couch.
hyunshik whispers it so many times it sticks to the walls how it permeates and floats around in taeyang’s mind. floats and dances and holds him as he replays every move from the night, every attempt to criticize and berate himself stolen back with each kiss and each laugh that has him floating and falling. hyunshik kisses away the mistakes so tenderly taeyang almost forgets they exist, his body on fire in a way that dance doesn’t sum up to.
on fire in a way that’s probably not reserved for dance. but for the two of them. and in a way that makes him think it’s okay to be a little shameless, and a little greedy.
and even if they stop when hyunshik insists he get rest, something about the firm hold the male has on his body lets taeyang know he’s got more awaiting him tomorrow and long after that.