Preface

the weight on his shoulders
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/23012584.

Rating:
General Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
ONEWE (Band)
Character:
Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Jin Yonghoon, Ju Harin, Son Dongmyeong, Lee Giwook | Cya, ONEWE Ensemble
Additional Tags:
really only kanghyun and yonghoon are important though, I stayed up until 3 am to write this, no beta we die like men, i just imagine hyungu being so stressed out always, so this is just hyungu needing a hug, someone hug hyungu
Language:
English
Stats:
Published: 2020-03-04 Words: 2,116 Chapters: 1/1

the weight on his shoulders

Summary

Once he almost does reach out; his hand comes so close that he can almost feel the rush of affection he knows he’ll receive. None of his members would deny him comfort, Hyungu knows that. They love him, just as much as he loves them. So, he almost does. Almost succeeds.

(“You know you can come talk to hyung if you get this stressed out, right?”

Hyungu nods. Yonghoon tightens his hold on his back.)

Notes

Hi welcome to this fic that I got inspired to write and stayed up way too late to write.

I feel like it's all over the place but whatever enjoy anyways

the weight on his shoulders

Hyungu can’t deny that he carries stress and anxiety heavy on his shoulders. Allows them to overtake his thoughts until he lies awake at night, sleepless and restless. They cause his hands to tap on tables, causes his leg to shake uncontrollably until Yonghoon gently puts a hand on it to stop. He knows that this isn’t healthy, knows that he should be doing something, anything, to stop the spiral. Stress and anxiety, however, have become part of his being, have become central to his personality.

 

This has been his forever trait since he was young, this hyper-analytical attitude to get what he loves to be perfect. It’s stressful when he finds himself unable to do something. He’s anxious when he doesn’t succeed. His quiet demeanor covers it up, but it’s always there, just bubbling under the surface.

 

Ironically, the place where he’s the least nervous is the stage. His guitar is a part of him, just an extension of his brain and hands, and he is confident in his ability to perform flawlessly. It is his art, and he knows he is impressive at what he does. Sure, he knows there’s always room for improvement, and he’s always willing to learn more, but there’s a satisfaction in knowing that he can do what many others can not.

 

It’s everything else that’s a problem.

 

It’s when he’s writing lyrics and the words don’t come out in a way that feels poetic enough. When something is on the tip of his tongue but doesn’t quite emerge. When he’s trying to find a melody but his fingers don’t feel dextrous enough. When the scales feel out of place, and all the notes feel out of rhythm. These are the moments when the heaviness of his stress, his anxiety, his failure crash deeply on him.

 

He’s lucky that he has members who care deeply about him. Four who are always by his side, six who will come if he ever needs them. And Hyungu needs them, all of them, far too often than he can admit. Whenever he’s about to reach out, however, that voice in his head stops his hand, mutes his voice. He cannot bear to give the burden of his stress onto anyone else. Especially not his members, whom he loves so dearly.

 

Once he almost does reach out; his hand comes so close that he can almost feel the rush of affection he knows he’ll receive. None of his members would deny him comfort, Hyungu knows that. They love him, just as much as he loves them. So, he almost does. Almost succeeds.

 

It’s when the four of them get home from The Unit that it happens. It had been a very hard goodbye to their new friends, and to Dongmyeong, left alone at KBS. Yonghoon cried for the entire duration of the car ride home, Giwook silently clutching to his hand. Harin sat still, unusually somber. None of the four of them had thought they would make it past the first elimination, so none of them anticipated it hurting so much.

 

They make it home, exhausted and upset. Yonghoon’s eyes are puffy, Harin’s lips are dry. Hyungu sits and waits as his members wash up and change into comfier clothes. Hyungu uses the washroom last, intent on taking a shower before falling asleep. He lets the water run across his body and he thinks about what a terrifying and wonderful experience he got to have. He was stressed the entire time, but there was something that had been exciting about being completely thrust into the unknown. And the steam hits his face a little harder than it should and he finds that he’s crying. He knew he was going to be eliminated, and yet he finds that he wants to go back and continue on. He’ll probably never sing that much again, will definitely never dance that much again He can’t believe that he misses it, and he doesn’t know what to do.

 

The water hits his back and Hyungu thinks, but the more he thinks the more he’s crying. All he can think of, in that moment, is how much he wants a hug. Hyungu isn’t much of a crier, but his tears don’t stop even as his drying himself off, pulling his pyjamas over his body. He knows his members, knows that they know when he exits with teary eyes that it’s serious. He knows the way that they provide comfort. Knows Harin will place a hand on his shoulder, knows Giwook will press himself against Hyungu’s back. He knows that Yonghoon will engulf him in a hug that will knock all the stress and anxiety off his shoulders, that he’ll call Hyungu his baby and run a hand through his hair. Usually Hyungu hates all this, but, in that moment it’s all he wants.

 

He tries to steady his breath, but Hyungu can feel it cracking. He opens the bathroom door to silence. A quick look through the dorm shows Hyungu why. His three members have fallen asleep on Yonghoon’s bed. They’re all in a pile, with Giwook squished in between the taller two. Hyungu’s breath shakes as he watches them. He knows they didn’t mean to, knows they probably waited up for as long as they were capable for him, but they’ve left no room for him. He sighs, turns off the lights, climbs into his empty bed, and silently lets his tears stain his pillow.

 

The next morning he wakes up to Yonghoon sitting on the side of his bed, running his fingers through Hyungu’s hair, but the mood from the night before has passed.

 

“Are you feeling alright, Hyungu? Yesterday was a lot,”

 

“I’m fine hyung,”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes, hyung,”

 

And Yonghoon cards his fingers a few more times through Hyungu’s hair, but Hyungu is too drained to lean up into the touch.

 

The next few years fly by. They film shows, perform at concerts, write songs. MAS has changed into ONEWE, and they redebut with new songs. There’s so much stress and it piles up heavy on Hyungu’s shoulders. He wants them to succeed this time, and he knows that they have the resources to do so now. They make a comeback, and perform on music shows. There’s so much that they have achieved, yet Hyungu feels like he’s fallen behind.

 

There’s a lot of tears, mostly from Yonghoon, and a lot of hugs. The years have only brought the band closer together. They rely so much on each other, and yet Hyungu still can’t bring himself to reach out and ask for help relieving his stress. Which is how he finds himself sitting on the floor of his little studio, notebook and pen in hand, trying to write lyrics at an ungodly hour in the morning.

 

Hyungu wants to write the perfect song, but nothing is working how he wants. He can’t make his lyrics match Dongmyeong’s piano melody, can’t get his words to be cohesive with Giwook’s flawlessly written rap. The flow of the guitar part he’s written doesn’t balance with Harin’s drum beat. He can’t hear Dongmyeong singing these words, doesn’t think Yonghoon’s voice will soar.

He knows he should go home to the dorm, but he feels glued to the floor. His eyes glance up to his desk, lamenting that the can of coffee he had bought at a machine was empty. He looks back down at his notebook, its pages dark with the lines he’s used to cross out lyrics. He’s tired. He wants to go to sleep. His hands are shaking. He tells himself he has to do at least this for the team; he wants to give his group the success they deserve.

 

The door quietly opens, and Hyungu looks up, ready to defend his actions against whatever member of the security team has come to chastise him. As he stares at the doorway, however, he sees that it’s only Yonghoon. His hyung’s eyes are half-lidded with fatigue, his hair is a mess. He’s wearing the sweat pants he was obviously sleeping in before he got up to retrieve the younger.

 

“Hyungu,” Yonghoon’s voice is soft, “It’s time to come home. It’s three in the morning,”

 

Hyungu just stares at him, too tired to speak. Slowly, Yonghoon walks to the chair that Hyungu had pressed against the wall. There’s only about a meter separating them, but in Hyungy’s sleep deprived state he feels so distant from his hyung.

 

“Hyungu, I know you’re working on something important but you’re not going to get anything of value done when you’re this tired. Let’s get you to bed,” Yonghoon’s voice is still soft, but his tone is firm enough that it makes Hyungu feel impossibly small.

 

“I just need to finish this, hyung,”

 

“You can finish it another time,”

 

And something inside of Hyungu snaps and he can feel the tears about to rush out.

 

“I just don’t understand why nothing is working right,”

And the dam overflows.

 

The first tears have barely touched his cheeks when Yonghoon flings himself off the chair and onto the floor, bringing Hyungu into his arms. The notebook and pen fall to the floor, and Hyungu allows himself to press himself into his hyung’s body. His nose is in Yonghoon’s shoulder, and Hyungu just cries.

 

Hyungu can feel himself trying to eject all the stress and anxiety from his body. He can hear Yonghoon’s voice in his ears but he can barely register the words. Yonghoon’s hands are strong and warm on his back, the cold frames of his glasses graze Hyungu’s scalp.

 

Hyungu doesn’t know how long it takes, but his sobs eventually subside. Yonghoon is rubbing his back, gentle but firm, a reminder that Hyungu has someone taking care of him. He shifts his head so it rests more comfortably in the crook of Yonghoon’s neck. The older leans his head against the younger’s.

 

“You’re really stressed out, aren’t you?”

 

Hyungu nods.

 

“You’re really trying to write a good song, aren’t you?”

 

Hyungu nods.

 

“You know you can come talk to hyung if you get this stressed out, right?”

 

Hyungu nods. Yonghoon tightens his hold on his back.

 

“Are you ready to go home?”

 

Hyungu nods. Yonghoon pulls himself up, bringing Hyungu up with him. Even standing, Hyungu is pressed against the older, not quite ready to let go.

 

“Standing up from the floor really hurts my knees now,” Yonghoon mutters under his breath, and Hyungu finds it in himself to laugh.

 

“It’s because you’re ancient,” Hyungu whispers against Yonghoon’s shoulder.

 

“Hush,” but Yonghoon is laughing too.

 

Hyungu allows himself to be detangled from Yonghoon, and the older tracks down the younger’s coat. Yonghoon carefully helps Hyungu’s arms through the sleeves and does up the zipper. Hyungu feels light.

 

They leave the studio and begin the walk back to the dorm. It’s cold, the winter air bitter in the night. Yonghoon drapes an arm around Hyungu, pulling the younger into his side. They walk in silence until their building comes into view. Yonghoon stops, and turns Hyungu to look at him. Yonghoon sighs, placing both of his hands on Hyungu’s shoulders.

 

“How long have I known you now, Hyungu?”

 

“Six years,”

 

“Yeah, six years,” Yonghoon sighs again, “I know you extremely well, Hyungu, and I know you carry so much stress with you,”

 

Hyungu looks down.

 

“Please let hyung worry for you, okay?”

 

Hyungu looks back up.

 

“I know it’s hard but please let me help you sometimes. I know you like to deal with things on your own but please let me worry for you,”

 

Hyungu nods. Yonghoon smiles.

 

“Let’s go to bed,”

 

The lights are on when they get inside. Dongmyeong and Giwook are tired, falling in on one another, but Harin is alert, eyes filled with concern. Yonghoon tells them that everything is under control, that they should go back to bed. Dongmyeong and Giwook leave with little complaint, but Harin stays firm. Hyungu knows that he must look like a mess, tired with tear-stained cheeks.

 

Yonghoon must have perfected his pleading look, because Harin sighs, and moves to leave. Before he descends back into his bed, Harin gives Hyungu’s shoulder a squeeze, a sign of comfort. Hyungu feels lucky to have a friend like him.

 

Yonghoon goes and finds Hyungu’s pyjamas, and waits as he changes and washes up. He guides the younger to his bed, climbing in with him. Usually Kanghyun hates this, but tonight he relishes in the affection. He allows himself to fall asleep pressed against Yonghoon’s chest, the older carding his hands through Hyungu’s hair.

 

“Thanks, hyung,” Hyungu murmurs.

 

His eyelids are heavy, but Hyungu feels light.

Afterword

End Notes

Thanks for reading.

I've thought about writing something like this before but it didn't quite turn out. Hopefully this suffices. I know the tense is weird and probably so is the characterization but it's also 3 am and I can't be bothered to edit.

Good night,

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