built this hall of mirrors (6.6k)

[justawordshaker]

 built this hall of mirrors
canon compliant, jihope, rated g
originally posted december 31st, 2019

.

“I am always wondering what you see.
So I quietly conceal the dark inside of me.
Sins and scars you’ll never recognize
‘Cause I am the master of maintaining my disguise.”

//

Hoseok closes his eyes.

He’s lying on the floor of the dance studio, breathing heavily. Everything is quiet. There are no footsteps in the hallway or muffled music from practice rooms. The only thing he can hear is the steady pounding of his own heart ringing in his ears.

He breathes deeply, focusing on how the muscles in his back relax and align against the hard floor. He leans his head back, arching his neck and rolling the muscles in his shoulders. He presses his palms flat to the floor. 

Hoseok isn’t sure how long he lies on the floor, measuring his breaths. He keeps his eyes shut. The tight feeling around his chest that he’s been carrying for days is finally relaxing.

Hoseok opens his eyes. He’s facing the wall of mirrors. 

The Hoseok in the mirror is tired and sweaty, dark circles heavy under his eyes. He looks pale and his face serious. He’s lying on the ground and breathing heavily and he has spent the past two hours dancing until he couldn’t breathe. Even with all that, the Hoseok in the mirror looks unhealthy. Unhappy.

Hoseok closes his eyes.

//

Hoseok is not a person prone to self-reflection. 

But sometimes, late at night, there is no avoiding it. 

It’s just so quiet.  

His thoughts buzz - louder and louder until he can no longer ignore it. Until he has to get up and do something. Tidy the living room or go to the studio to work on a song that will probably never see the light of day. Usually, he spends another few hours in the practice room. Anything that will give him something to focus on except for the buzzing.

Hoseok is not like Namjoon or Yoongi. 

They both make it seem so simple. Confronting the quiet parts of themselves. Not easy, never that. But… like there is no choice in it at all. Like it is natural to sit with those quiet parts and listen to them, speak to them. Give them a voice even while they still hold power over them.

That’s not how it is for Hoseok. 

He would rather live in the moment. He takes what happiness he can and wait for the darkness to pass. Waits until those quiet thoughts aren’t quite so dark anymore. Only then does he look at them, sit with them, give them a voice he’s willing to share. 

Waiting for the darkness to pass is getting harder with every passing day. The buzzing in Hoseok’s head just gets louder and louder.

It’s hard not to listen to it.

He has never made it a secret - that J-Hope and Jung Hoseok are not one and the same.

J-Hope is a carefully constructed persona. A person made up of all the things he likes best about himself. The way he makes people smile. The way he knows what is best for a performance. The way that he can make his voice heard in a room full of people. The way he can change the mood in an instant. 

Being J-Hope is simple. Easy. 

And that’s where the darkness comes. Because here is a secret.

Late at night, the thoughts that buzz in his head all whisper the same thing. They all circle back to one terrible and dark and selfish thought -

If given a choice, no one would choose Jung Hoseok over J-Hope. 

Not even Hoseok.

//

“Hope-ah,” Namjoon says softly, knocking gently on the door frame of his studio. 

Hoseok looks up from the computer screen. He’s been staring at mixes for what seems like hours. He isn’t sure what he started working on. He’s not sure what he’s working on right now.

He looks up at Namjoon. It takes a moment to process the change from computer screen to friend. Another moment for his body to slide from alone to not alone. He smiles and it takes longer than a moment for it to feel natural on his face.

“Namjoonie! Hello.”

“You’ve been in here for a while,” Namjoon says, staying in the doorway. 

Hoseok shrugs, closing the file and spinning away from the computer. “Nothing big. Just playing around.”

Namjoon frowns. Hoseok knows that it isn’t like him. He isn’t like Namjoon or Yoongi. He doesn’t play around with music. They’ll write songs all day long - some good, some bad. They create until they can bend it into something magical.

Hoseok is not like that. 

Namjoon knows that he’s not like that.

His chest feels tight. He can’t take a breath deep enough to calm the beat of his heart. 

“Did you come to visit?” Hoseok asks brightly.

“Everyone else left for food hours ago,” Namjoon says. “Well, except for Jimin-ah. He just went into the practice room.”

“Ah, do you need a break?” Hoseok asks with a smile. “You’ve been working too hard! Let’s go get some food.”

Hoseok hops out of the chair, gathering the things he has strewn all over the desk. He can feel Namjoon’s eyes on him. Hoseok doesn’t pay him any attention. If Namjoon thinks that something is wrong, he is more likely to wait it out. At least long enough until he has time to prepare what he thinks he needs to say. 

When Hoseok turns around, Namjoon is still looking at him. He is doing nothing to hide the half a frown making lines at the corners of his eyes. He looks like he’s only half-sure that something might be wrong. 

Hoseok smiles sunnily, ignoring it entirely. He starts babbling, talking about how they need to at least check and make sure Jimin does not want to come along. The sidelong looks quietly assessing Hoseok’s expression shrink. Slowly, Namjoon relaxes. There’s still a hint of something in his eye, but he knows Namjoon. He knows that he won’t say anything right now.

He will let Hoseok keep up his mask. Keep up the charade that everything is fine. The vice around his chest relaxes. 

Hoseok breathes.

//

It’s a good day.

That is not how Hoseok usually thinks. He does not usually think of any one day as being good or bad. He knows that some people do. They mentally plot every day on a scale between the two. He wonders, sometimes, how they do it. What makes a good day good? What makes a bad day bad?

Some of Hoseok’s happiest memories have happened on days when he felt like he was at his worst. Some of his worst memories have happened on days when he felt most assured in himself. How would they classify those days? Do the good moments outweigh the overwhelming fear and anxiety clawing inside of him? Do the feelings of surety in oneself outweigh the moments that make him want to hide away and simply stop existing?

Hoseok doesn’t know.

So he takes each moment as it comes. Tries to recognize them as separate from anything else. 

But. 

Today is a good day.

Their schedule is light for the entire week, but today is different. Today is an entire day with zero obligations. It is a free day when the sun is bright and the air is clear and they can do whatever they want.

Hoseok is free to do anything he wants.

So Hoseok is going out. He is going shopping. He’s going to take Mickey to the park. He’s going to take pictures and have time to himself and soak up the sun and just relax. 

“Hoseok-hyung?”

Hoseok looks up from tying his shoelaces. Jungkook is standing in front of him, hair messy and eyes still sleep-swollen.

“You’re going out?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

Hoseok finishes tying his shoes, nodding. He stands up and throws an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. Jungkook leans into him, still obviously half asleep. Hoseok resists the urge to coo at him the way he would do if they were on camera. 

“Go back to bed, Jungkookie-yah,” he says instead. “No need to be up yet.”

Jungkook rubs at his eyes again, turning and bending so that Hoseok has no choice but to wrap him up in a hug. Hoseok doesn’t mind. He sways them both gently, letting Jungkook soak up the affection he wants. 

“Go back to bed,” he says, softer now. “I’ll bring home dinner later if everyone is home.”

Jungkook nods sleepily against Hoseok’s neck, staying right where he is for a few moments longer. Hoseok closes his eyes, pressing his head against Jungkook’s hair. He’s grown so much. He still always makes himself small when he comes to them for affection. 

Finally, Jungkook leans away. He still looks sleepy and only half-awake. He stumbles back down the hall, heading for Hoseok and Jimin’s room instead of his own. Hoseok watches him go, waiting in the entry. It’s still early. 

He has the whole day to himself. He wants to go out. He wants to make sure he has the chance to recharge. He needs a day to just feel… normal. Average. To bask in being Jung Hoseok instead of J-Hope. To remember that there is a difference. That one is not more important than the other.

He needs that. A chance to just be. He thinks that maybe it might help the constant buzzing in his head.

But.

There’s more than one way to feel that.

Hoseok slips his feet out of his shoes. Sheds his jacket, hanging it back up on the hook. He follows Jungook’s path down the hall.

His room is mostly dark. Only the faintest hint of light is able to creep through the curtains. Hoseok can see Jimin still sound asleep, buried under his blankets and curled up tight. Jungkook is already nestled into Hoseok’s bed, face buried in his pillow.

Hoseok adjusts Jimin’s blankets carefully, making sure that he’s properly covered. Jimin fidgets, but stills after Hoseok pets his hair. He turns to his own bed and crawls in next to Jungkook, making sure that they are properly covered with blankets. As soon as he’s settled, Jungkook turns over and latches onto Hoseok like a limpet.

He lets Jungkook get comfortable. Closes his eyes and leans into Jungkook’s warmth. He doesn’t fight the soft, sleepy draw back into drowsiness.

//

Hoseok is rarely found just sitting still. He likes to be in motion. He likes to be doing something. Even when he relaxes, he is usually on his phone or talking to people or trying to sleep. He is rarely idle. If he is sitting alone and not doing anything, it is usually because he is ill.

He is not ill. 

But he is wrapped in a blanket. Settled into the corner of the couch. It’s late, but not so late that everyone is home yet.

Seokjin and Taehyung are in the studio. They’ve been recording most of the week, one thing or another. Jimin and Namjoon have been spending a lot of time in the dance studio. It’s no surprise, as far as Jimin is concerned. If he has a spare moment to breathe, he is almost always dancing. Namjoon is unusual, but Hoseok thinks that he is letting Jimin help him to make sure that Jimin isn’t pushing himself too far. Yoongi has been writing nonstop, tweaking lyrics and melodies before they finalize anything. Jungkook has been floating, bouncing between all of them. 

Hoseok isn’t sure if anyone is home. He’s positive that Jimin is still out. If he was home, he would have sensed Hoseok’s mood. If Taehyung or Jungkook were home, Hoseok would not be sitting alone. At least one of the three would be fussing over him. He’s not sure about anyone else.

Hoseok closes his eyes. His chest feels tight, but his mind is blank. He already knows that sleep will not come easy tonight. He takes a moment to enjoy the quiet without the buzzing in his head. He sits and tries to rest, knowing that he won’t get much rest later. 

He keeps his eyes closed. He breathes. He focuses on the weight of the blanket over his shoulders. The texture of the couch against his bare feet. He listens to the muffled sound of traffic outside.

His chest is tight, but without the buzz of thoughts rattling in his head it strikes him differently. He feels light. Weightless. Like if he weren’t wrapped in a blanket, he would just float away. 

So he focuses on the little things. They help him feel more substantial. 

He’s counting the blares of a car alarm when he hears the door open. 

“Seok-ah,” Yoongi says from behind him. Hoseok can hear him taking off his coat and shoes. 

Hoseok focuses on Yoongi’s voice. The way he focuses on everything else. It’s deep and soft and Hoseok lets it roll in his ears. He feels Yoongi’s hands in his hair and for a moment, Hoseok finally feels like he might not float away.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says simply. He’s not coddling Hoseok. He’s leaving an opening. 

His hand is still buried in Hoseok’s hair. Hoseok hums in reply. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. If he opens his eyes, he will be faced with Yoongi’s tenacious honesty and bare-faced concern. 

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi repeats, voice firmer now. “Do you need to talk to someone?”

The vice around his ribcage tightens. He can feel it push all the air in his lungs up the back of his throat. None of them have ever been able to fool Yoongi. He always sees right through them. Even if he chooses not to call them out on it.

“I’m handling it,” Hoseok replies. His voice sounds small in his own ears. Weak. Unsure.

“Are you really?”

Hoseok can feel his heart pounding in his throat now. There is no judgment in Yoongi’s voice. It’s a question. An honest question.

It would be better, maybe, if there was some judgment.

“I’m trying,” Hoseok answers. He hates how vulnerable he sounds. He knows that Yoongi would never think less of him for it. None of the members would.

He thinks less of himself for it. 

“Seokie-ah,” Yoongi murmurs. The hand disappears from his hair and Hoseok feels his heart skip a beat. After a moment, though, the couch sinks down next to him. Hoseok keeps his eyes shut tight. If he looks at Yoongi, he won’t be able to help but tell him every bad thought that has been in his head for the past week. 

He focuses on listening to Yoongi instead. Matches his breathing to Yoongi’s. He listens to the way his clothes brush against the material of the couch. When Yoongi pulls one of Hoseok’s hands out from the blankets, Hoseok focuses on the way his skin is chill against his own.

“You don’t shame Jimin for asking for help,” Yoongi says, voice hushed and holding Hoseok’s hand in his own. “You don’t judge Namjoon or I when we struggle. You make sure that Jungkookie and Taehyungie know to come to you when they feel overwhelmed. You always know when Seokjin-hyung feels low.”

Hoseok tries to focus on Yoongi’s voice. Tries to listen to the sound instead of what he is saying. 

It doesn’t work. 

He tilts his head back, keeping his eyes shut. He knows what Yoongi is doing.

“Stop thinking poorly of yourself for things you don’t judge us for.”

“I can’t help it,” Hoseok murmurs, finally opening his eyes. He was so afraid to open his eyes and face Yoongi, but Yoongi isn’t looking at him at all. Hoseok isn’t surprised, but he is relieved.

Yoongi hums and nods, squeezing Hoseok’s hand before returning it to the folds of the blanket. He stands and starts adjusting the blanket, drawing it closer around Hoseok’s shoulders. Hoseok looks up at him as he tugs and pats, arranging it to his liking.

Only when he finishes does Yoongi finally meet his eye. He doesn’t say anything else, but he does bend his head. He deliberately presses a kiss right to the center of Hoseok’s forehead. Hoseok’s hair scratches against his skin. It tickles.

Hoseok can feel himself blushing. He can’t help but turn shy and giggly when he’s under Yoongi’s attention.

He is still blushing when Yoongi leaves, busying himself in the kitchen. He buries himself deeper in the blanket, trying to hide his flushed face. Tries to calm his beating heart. He closes his eyes, focusing on how the soft fabric of the blanket feels against the warmth of his face. It feels nice. Overwhelming in a way that makes it impossible to float away.

“Hope-ah.”

Hoseok opens his eyes. Yoongi is holding two mugs of steaming tea. Hoseok can smell the chamomile. He hands one to Hoseok as soon as he opens his eyes.

“Drink.” 

Hoseok obeys, sipping slowly while Yoongi settles down next to him. He presses close to Hoseok’s side and Hoseok isn’t quite sure which does the trick. Whether it’s the tea or Yoongi’s closeness. Whichever it is - the vice around his ribs releases. 

He drinks his tea and lets himself sink down into the warmth and softness. He leans over so that he is pressed up against Yoongi’s side. His head droops onto his shoulder.

“Thank you, hyung,” he murmurs, feeling drowsy and relaxed.

Yoongi hums and tilts his head in reply, pressing his temple against Hoseok’s hair. Hoseok closes his eyes and lets the tea and Yoongi’s warmth weigh him down.

//

There’s one place where he always feels like he belongs. One place where his chest never seems to go tight. One place where the buzz never sneaks into his ears and whispers you don’t belong here. 

When he’s onstage, only one thing matters. 

Nothing matters except the performance. It doesn’t matter if it is Jung Hoseok onstage or if it is J-Hope. There’s no line between the two parts of himself. Not when he’s in front of an audience. It’s the only place where the same thing always matters most to both of them. 

There is nothing more healing. Not for Hoseok. When he puts everything he has into one dance or one rap, it is enough to make everything else in his head fade away.

He’ll stumble backstage, hot and sweaty and still high on adrenaline. Hoseok will look at his members. See the same joy in their eyes. The same energy alive in every muscle. He would cross the world a hundred times over to keep seeing that. 

He looks at his members, loud and energetic and gleeful. He can feel his heart swell.

Hoseok can breathe. 

//

Hoseok thought that things were better. He’s had less sleepless nights. Less days where his head buzzes and leaves him feeling foggy. He thought that maybe we was getting better. Maybe the darkness was finally passing.

He’s home. Home home. Gwangju home, not their apartment in Seoul. If there is one place he shouldn’t feel like he is suffocating under the weight of how the world sees him, it should be here.

But.

He can’t sleep.

He is home with his family. He is with the people he should feel most like Jung Hoseok with. He is with the people who saw him grow into who he is today, for better or for worse.

But his head is buzzing. And he can’t do anything about it.

There is no dance studio for him here. No recording studio. No members for him to tidy up after. 

Hoseok lies in bed and his head is buzzing so loud that he cannot think. He can’t just lie here. He has to do something. 

Hoseok reaches for his phone. Jimin answers after a single ringing tone. 

“Hobi-hyung!”

Some of the buzz in his head quiets, just at the sound of Jimin’s voice. This is normal. Natural. Talking to Jimin late into the night is just something that happens.

“Jimin-ah,” Hoseok replies, voice soft. He does not want to disturb his family.

“Ah, hyung… I miss you,” Jimin says, filling in Hoseok’s silence like it’s nothing. He has always been good at that. Filling their silences with honest words or gentle touches. 

“I’ll be home soon,” Hoseok says, “probably before you are. Where are you now?”

“Paris! I’m flying back for Jungkookie’s birthday, though. You’re coming, aren’t you, hyung?”

“Of course, Jiminie. I’ll get everything ready. You just need to get here.”

Jimin hums, the sound turning to static over the phone speaker. He wonders where Jimin is right now. The background noise isn’t loud, but Hoseok thinks he can hear talking. Music. He hopes that he didn’t pull Jimin away from anything.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been quiet.”

Hoseok swallows, throat suddenly dry. 

“Yes.”

“You’ve been quiet for longer than usual.”

“Oh. You noticed?”

Jimin is quiet for longer than a moment. It says more to Hoseok than anything Jimin might have said.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Hoseok closes his eyes. Jimin has a certain tone of voice. Soothing. Quiet and soft and round around the edges to erase even the thought of judgment. It never fails to coerce them into revealing their secrets. The feelings they don’t want to give words to.

He’s using it now.

Somehow, it can’t help but remind Hoseok of Yoongi.

“I don’t think I wanted you to,” Hoseok finally says.

Jimin hums. Is quiet for a beat. It’s the kind of silence that should make Hoseok feel uncomfortable. But should never seems to matter when it comes to Jimin. 

“I won’t ask what’s been bothering you,” Jimin tells him softly, “but I’ll listen. If you want to talk about it. If you need to talk about it.”

Hoseok can hear Jimin moving on the other end of the phone. The background noise fades and Hoseok knows that Jimin has found a place to be alone. He needs to say something. It’s why he called, after all. Because the buzz in his head was too much for him to handle.

The vice around his ribcage goes so tight, Hoseok can hardly breathe. 

He can’t. 

“Hoseok-hyung. You are allowed to ask for help.”

Jimin’s voice is sharp. Sharper than Hoseok is used to hearing. It reminds him of years ago, when Jimin’s anger still hovered so close to the surface. It reminds him of when Hoseok was the only one who did not bow or cower before that anger. Because he struggled with the same fire himself.

They’ve come so far since then. 

“You taught me that,” Jimin continues and all the sharpness is gone. His voice is so soft, it is almost inaudible over the phone. 

“Jimin-ah,” Hoseok manages to say. His throat feels too hot. Too tight.

“Do you remember? You don’t help anyone by keeping your pain to yourself. That’s what you said.”

“It’s easier to say to someone else,” Hoseok grumbles.

Jimin laughs. Loud and bright. Infectious enough that the tight vice around Hoseok’s chest loosens its grip. It is impossible to be unaffected when Jimin laughs. 

“Hyung. That’s terrible.”

“But true. I don’t want to take my own advice.”

Jimin laughs again and Hoseok closes his eyes. With his eyes shut, it’s more like they are back home. Like they’ve stayed up too late simply because they have lost track of time.

“You should. It’s good advice.”

Hoseok thinks that it was good advice. Good advice for Jimin, at least. 

Jimin thrives under other people’s attention. He flourishes most when he is surrounded by others. For a long time, it was clear that he did not feel like he could ask for the same attention if he was struggling. It was advice that Jimin needed to hear. Hoseok was happy to give it to him. 

He does not think that the same advice is as good for him. 

Hoseok doesn’t think he is averse to asking for help. He can swallow his pride. He can reach out if he really needs to. He can let a friend look after him without argument or call someone when he can’t sleep and has nothing to do. He can ask for help, in his own way. 

He just thinks, maybe, that he doesn’t know when to ask for help. 

“Hyung?”

“Sorry, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin hums and Hoseok closes his eyes, pressing his face into his pillow. It smells different. His mother must have changed what detergent she uses. It reminds him of the perfume she wears when she dresses up.

“You should sleep, Hoseokie-hyung.”

“Can’t. Head is buzzing.”

“Is it still?”

Hoseok pauses. 

His chest isn’t tight anymore. He can breathe easily. Freely. The only thing in his head is the sound of Jimin’s voice. 

“No,” Hoseok says and the shock is clear in his voice.

“Sleep, hyung,” Jimin says. Hoseok can hear the smile turn up the ends of his words. 

“Yah, when did you get so smart, Jimin-ah?”

Jimin laughs. Hoseok knows he replies. Says something. But Hoseok isn’t listening to his words anymore. He is only listening to the way his laugh rings in Hoseok’s ears. How his voice is curling around every word, settled in and soft. 

Hoseok sighs and can finally sleep.

//

It isn’t getting better.

He told Yoongi that he’s handling it. The quiet thoughts. The dark buzz that rings inside his head. He wasn’t lying. He was handling it, for a while. It was terrible, but manageable. He was handling it.

Hoseok isn’t sure if that’s true anymore.

He’s lying on the floor of the dance studio for the third night in a row. They only have a few more days of minimal scheduling. They’re about to get busy again - busy enough that they won’t have a chance to breathe. 

He doesn’t know if the buzz in his head will get louder along with everything else, or if it will get drowned out in the din. It’s already so hard to catch his breath. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he has to deal with this on top of everything else. 

He’s breathing heavy. Staring at his own face in the mirror. 

He doesn’t recognize the person he sees staring back at him.

He is still looking at a face that is just as unhealthy. Just as tired and dull. The Hoseok in the mirror still looks unhappy. 

Hoseok doesn’t know how to fix it. He is living his dream. He gets to do what he loves nearly every day of his life. He gets to share it with six other people he loves more than anyone.

There is no reason he should feel as unsettled as he does. There is no reason he should feel as out of sync with himself as he does. 

But he does. 

And he still can’t sleep. 

Hoseok closes his eyes. He breathes. 

//

Hoseok knows that it should upset him. That they are handling him. 

Mostly, he’s just upset that he is worrying them. He doesn’t want to be a cause of worry for people. Not anyone, but especially not the people he loves. Especially not these people.

They are all trying to look after him. It makes Hoseok feel guilty. 

Seokjin has started forcing food on him whenever he stands still for a moment. One minute Hoseok’s hands will be empty, the next he’ll be holding a bowl of steaming food or a bag of chips or an entire orange. Seokjin never says a word. He doesn’t need to. 

Namjoon and Jungkook have both been keeping careful eyes on him. They keep him within arms reach. They watch him like hawks, waiting for the moment his smile slips. Waiting for the moment they see something they can fix. 

Yoongi and Taehyung are more subtle. Hoseok knows that they are checking in on him, but it doesn’t feel very different from how they would normally check in on him. Yoongi stands next to him, pressing up against his side and handing him cups of tea or bottles of water. Taehyung pulls him closer more often. Wraps him up in his arms a little more frequently. Asks to take pictures of him more often. 

It’s nothing out of the ordinary for either of them. But it’s more frequent. More pointed. 

Then there’s Jimin. 

Hoseok doesn’t notice anything different with Jimin. Nothing seems to have changed. 

Jimin knows more about how Hoseok is actually doing than any of them. He knows just how many nights Hoseok has not spent in his bed. He knows how quiet Hoseok goes as soon as the door of their bedroom closes. Jimin has seen, more than anyone, how Hoseok struggles.

But nothing has changed. 

Jimin doesn’t pay more attention to him than before. He does not watch him warily. He acts exactly as he did before.

Hoseok basks in it. 

It is its own kind of comfort, to be treated no differently. To be treated like he is not a hair’s breadth away from shattering.

Do you need to talk to someone?

He had balked at the question when Yoongi asked it. He hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone. He didn’t want to give those quiet parts of himself a voice. It felt like it would make them more real, somehow. 

Hoseok doesn’t think he feels like that anymore. Not giving a voice to those dark parts of himself hasn’t given them any less power over him. 

He still doesn’t want to talk to anyone. 

But.

Nothing is working anymore. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to stop feeling unsettled and out of sync with himself. Something has to change. 

Maybe -

Hoseok doesn’t want to talk to anyone. 

But that isn’t what Yoongi asked.

//

There’s no time to do anything about his dark and quiet thoughts. But that’s okay. There’s no time for the quiet thoughts to creep in anyway.

It’s award season.

Award season means rehearsals that last all day and well into the night. Fittings for stage costumes and red carpet looks and makeup tests and hair tests. It means practicing speeches because they have somehow reached a point where people tell them to expect to be awarded grand prizes. 

Hoseok knows that he isn’t any better than he was a week ago. He is sleeping, yes. But not because his mind is quieter. It’s just that his body is too exhausted to fight it.  

There just isn’t enough time. 

Except - 

There are small moments. Travelling from home to the studio in the mornings. Waiting for his turn with the stylist. Breaks between dance rehearsals for water and food. They are the only moments they really have to breathe. 

It isn’t enough time for the buzz to creep into Hoseok’s head. But it’s enough time for Hoseok to think. Enough time for him to make a plan, maybe.

Hoseok can barely breathe. They’ve been rehearsing for hours. They all know that these performances are something special. Something that will be remembered. They have the opportunity to really make the stage theirs and show exactly how far they have come. 

It’s exhilarating. It’s terrifying. 

He watches each of the members practice their own dance. A performance catered specifically to each of them. Hoseok is so proud of them he can hardly stand it. Every single one of them has grown so much. He’s watched it. Seen it every day for years now. This performance will show it in a way that will leave no doubt of that. 

Hoseok watches every one of them, his heart swelling.

They are all sweaty and exhausted and drinking as much water as their stomachs can handle. It won’t be a long break. Just long enough for them to recover their strength and for the directors to set up the cameras for the dance practice video.

Hoseok is watching Jungkook bounce around the room, the only one of them that still seems to have the energy for anything except heavy breathing. Jimin appears next to him, their shoulders bumping together. 

Jimin looks at him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t say anything, but Hoseok can hear all of the questions he isn’t asking anyway. He smiles. Wraps an arm around Jimin’s shoulders.

“Ah, Jiminie, you’re so impressive,” he says, squeezing his shoulder. 

“The veil got stuck under me,” he replies. “I know you saw.”

Hoseok did. He knew Jimin would hate that it happened, even though they were still rehearsing. He knows what Jimin is asking without saying it out loud. 

“I did. I was one of the only ones, I think. You covered yourself well. It was wonderful.”

Jimin bites his lip. Leans into Hoseok’s side. He nods and drinks more water. 

Hoseok knows they don’t have much longer. They’ll have to start setting up for the recording.  The way they are recording it means they can cut different takes together if they need to, but Hoseok knows them. He knows that none of them want that. They’ll want to do it in one take. 

They don’t have much longer, but Hoseok can’t wait any longer. He needs to ask now while he still has the courage and the words. 

“Jimin-ah?”

“Yes?”

“Promise me to do something. After the awards.”

Jimin steps out from under Hoseok’s arm. He looks up at him. His eyes are wide, but serious. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side. 

“I need you to ask.”

Jimin frowns. He can sense that the tone of their conversation has changed. Hoseok can see that he understands that much. But he doesn’t understand why. He doesn’t know how often his words have rolled around inside Hoseok’s head.

“Ask what?”

Hoseok pauses. Takes a breath. Makes sure that when he speaks, his voice doesn’t fail him.

“Ask me what’s wrong.”

His voice isn’t strong. He sounds terribly small. He sounds sad even though, right now, he isn’t. But his voice does not waver. The words do not get stuck in his throat.

He hates how just asking makes his chest immediately lock up in a vice. 

He hates how asking suddenly means he can breathe. 

Jimin’s entire face goes soft. His eyes shine. His mouth squishes inwards with a bitten back smile. 

Hoseok forgets. Sometimes. That Jimin is younger than him. That it’s supposed to be Hoseok’s job to take care of him. It’s easy to forget, he thinks. Jimin makes it easy to forget simply by being Jimin. 

Taking care of each other is second nature to them all at this point. They taught themselves to make it a priority. It wasn’t easy. Not at first. But it was worth it. Hoseok doesn’t think they would have lasted as long as they have if they didn’t teach themselves that. They have to be focused on each other. If they don’t look out for each other, who will?

Jimin never had to teach himself to look out for anyone.

If caring for each other was second nature to the rest of them, it was first nature to Jimin.

If Jimin were anyone else, it wouldn’t work. It would be too easy to take advantage of him and his nature. 

But Jimin isn’t anyone else. 

He doesn’t let them forget that he needs them. He’s unspeakably mature and unbearably silly in equal measure. Quiet when they need him to be, but loud when they don’t realize they need it.

But what makes it work is this: when they let Jimin take care of them, that alone means they are taking care of Jimin too.

Hoseok looks at Jimin. Meets his eye even though it makes him shy. He’s looking up at Hoseok and it’s impossible to remember how things are supposed to be. He’s looking up at Hoseok and it is clear that the look in his eye is nothing but pride. 

His face feels too warm. He wants to look away. Hide from the emotion Jimin refuses to hide. 

Hoseok doesn’t look away. He holds Jimin’s gaze.

“I will, hyung,” Jimin says quietly. Fiercely. “Do you… are you sure you want it to be me?”

Any of the members would listen to him. Any one of them would let him try to put words to how the staticky buzz has taken over his mind. Hoseok thinks that he could probably even manage to talk to any one of them too. Yoongi, certainly. Namjoon as well.

But Jimin looks up at him and his eyes are still shining. Hoseok thinks of all the times they have lied awake together, talking late into the night. He thinks of all the hours they have spent practicing together until they can’t breathe evenly for an hour afterwards. He thinks of how Jimin continued to care for Hoseok exactly the same way as he always had, even knowing that he was struggling more.

“Yes,” Hoseok says, knowing that he is making the right choice. “I trust you, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin smiles. It’s wide and bright and blinding. He locks their hands together, squeezing Hoseok’s fingers tight. 

Any minute now, they’ll be called back to rehearsal. They’ll have to go back to work. 

They still have a moment. 

So Hoseok squeezes Jimin’s hand. Lets Jimin smile at him.

He breathes.

//

There’s a moment. 

A heart-stopping, terrifying, exhilarating moment. 

It’s a moment Jimin hates. It’s a moment Hoseok loves. 

They’ve practiced it hundreds of times. Measured it perfectly. Figured out exactly where Jimin’s foot will land in relation to Hoseok’s body. They’ve perfected it so that it won’t go wrong. And it never has.

Jimin is still afraid it will. Someday.

Hoseok knows better.

They keep circling back to their past. Plucking bits and pieces of their younger selves to show just how far they’ve come. Proving how hard they’ve worked to make it as far as they have.

He thinks about what that Hoseok would think of him. If he could see him today.

He remembers being that Hoseok. The boy who wanted so desperately to prove his worth, but no idea if he was making the right choices. The Hoseok who tried to follow every moment as it happened, but always felt as if he was floundering and out of his depth. A Hoseok who still didn’t quite know if he fit. 

When Hoseok steps forward now to take the center stage, he thinks of that Hoseok. 

He thinks about how carefully his members have taken care of him, even when he thought he didn’t need it. Even when he didn’t want it. He thinks about how they manage to see right through every mask he has tried to hide behind.

He wants to prove to that Hoseok that this is where he belongs.

He wants to prove to himself that this is where he belongs.

Hosek turns and it’s almost the moment.

He meets Jimin’s eye. 

His gaze is sharp. Determined. Fiery.

Hoseok smiles. 

He drops to the stage floor. Arms splayed out to his sides. Palms flat against the ground. Heels pressed against his hips.

I trust you, he told Jimin. 

Later, Jimin will knock on the door of his hotel room. Sit across from him on the too-soft bed. He’ll say, tell me what’s wrong. And Hoseok will. It will be stilted and uncomfortable. Hoseok won’t be able to look him in the eye. Not until all the words are out of him. 

He’ll say it again, then. With Jimin holding his hand and letting him wipe his own tears away. He’ll say, I trust you and Jimin will understand. Because Jimin always understands.

Sometimes, trust is bigger than love.

Hoseok is flat on his back on the stage floor. He doesn’t need to watch to know Jimin will make it over him safely. 

Hoseok closes his eyes.