Feat. HanKyung and Henry, HanKyung x Henry if you want, but not necessary
PG-13 for ANGST
Disclaimer: Don’t own, no profit, I wish I did, and that there was.
Notes: This was written for fifteen_half who has been supporting my recent writing endeavors with her awh-worthy comments. I hope you enjoy it~!
It was another night spent alone for Henry, another night declining his band mates’ request to join him in their celebrations after another successful live performance. He’d given them every excuse known to man, he was sure he’d begin to run out soon, and then what would he tell them? Dark eyes seemed transfixed as a warm fog spread from the tips of his fingers to circle about the digits he’d pressed to the cool glass of the window. Though he was the youngest member of the group, he didn’t want to feel childish; he wanted to be a man, and handle every burden his career brought him, as he’d vowed to the day he’d been brought to Korea. The loneliness, he’d endured, the homesickness, the alienation… All without a complaint. It had all hurt, of course, but it wasn’t until his debut that he’d known true heartbreak.
Henry’s gaze shifted, peering past the glass at the array of neon lights that illuminated the city below him. In the day, the architecture seemed so welcoming, and it filled him with a sense of pride. At night, the lights seemed to all glare in his direction, harsh in their beauty, as if they were all telling him that no matter how hard he tried, he just wasn’t wanted there. Opinions were easy to form and hard to change, and they’d been fixed against him the moment he’d picked up his violin for Super Junior. He could feel that familiar stinging in his eyes, a warm burn low in his throat, and his fingers clenched, balling into a fist as he let his forehead rest against the window, hoping it would soothe the feverish ache that had settled within him.
Oblivious to the soft creak of the door, the tears began to course down his cheeks, leaving hot trails of lingering moisture in their wake. They seemed to scorch his skin, though the flow was relentless, and it was all he could do to clench his eyes shut. A bang rang out as his fist slammed against the resistant glass, and then he was sobbing. His whole body was shaking, his knees threatening to give out beneath him, but he refused. He hated admitting how weak he truly was, how every night spent alone was spent in tears, how even the lights of the city seemed to echo the cries of the crowd with their heart-wrenching chant.
He didn’t know how Zhou Mi endured it, and that was surely another sign of exactly how pathetic he was. Zhou Mi seemed to always smile, as if their words just bounced right off of him, and he didn’t let their jeers isolate him from the rest of the group; he didn’t spend the night alone, crying his heart out, wishing he could turn out every light in the city as if that would maybe grant him some semblance of peace.
“Henry…” a soft voice chimed, and Henry’s eyes shot open, widening as he recognized that silhouette in the glass.
“Gege-“ he choked out, his hands moving to his cheeks in an instant, hurriedly wiping away his tears, but he knew it was too late then. “S-Shouldn’t you be with the others?” he asked, his eyes moving away from the other’s reflection. He was too embarrassed to turn and look at him, not wanting him to see him in such condition. He gave a hearty sniff, doing his best to hold back the tears that had already began to escape, and his hands had to raise again moments later to wipe his cheeks once more.
“I wanted to check on you,” came HanGeng’s reply. “And I’m glad I did…” He moved closer, stopping just behind the younger man, and calmly he placed a hand on the other’s back. He could remember the times LeeTeuk had come to comfort him when he was teased too much for his poor Korean, or during times when the anti-fan’s comments had become too much for him. Seeing Henry in such a state reminded him of himself, a young man in a foreign country, unable to communicate with those around him. His heart ached for Henry, his dark eyes pained as he took in the sight of the other. “Henry…” he started again, and finally the violinist looked up at him, his expression absolutely heartbreaking. HanGeng could feel that slight burn in the corners of his eyes, but he pushed those urges down, instead letting his hand slowly begin to move from Henry’s back to his cheek, and then his other hand was following suit, catching the other’s tears with his thumbs.
“I’m sorry, Gege…” Henry said, his words throaty and just above a whisper, and hearing those words, HanGeng’s eyes began to grow glassy.
“No, no, Henry…” he breathed, the pain in his heart almost unbearable. Someone as young, as sweet and kind-hearted as Henry, he never deserved any of this, not when all he was doing was trying to live out his dream. It was all anyone could want, and to be treated so cruelly for that, it simply wasn’t fair. “Don’t be sorry… Never be sorry for crying.” He hesitated for a moment, looking down at the other- and then he was pulling him in close, wrapping his arms about him. He and Henry weren’t particularly close, not as close as he knew RyeoWook or SungMin and the younger man were, but at that moment, his heart went out to him. He wished he’d been there for him more, but Henry didn’t seem to mind as he felt the younger man’s arms come up, hesitant as well before curling about him, fingertips pressing into his shoulders, his grasp becoming almost desperate.
“I hate this…” Henry choked out, finally sounding his age, just a tender teenager. “I hate crying, I want to be strong…” He was absolutely trembling, and his face came to rest upon the leader’s chest, burying his face in his shirt. HanGeng made no protests even as he felt the warm wetness begin to soak through to his skin.
“You have to let it out somehow, Henry… All of us, every single member has cried more than once. We won’t think anything less of you if you come to one of us.” The leader’s voice was low and soft, his tone comforting as he held the youngest member close. “You’re a member of this band, despite what some girls may say, and we’ll be here for you.” He fell silent then, listening to Henry’s soft sobs muffled into his chest, and he let his hand slowly move over the violinist’s back, the languid circles stroking away the sadness from Henry’s heart.
When finally Henry’s trembling had ceased, and no longer were rivers of tears running down his cheeks, HanGeng began to pull back, offering the other a soft smile. “Do you feel better now, Henry?” he asked, gently wiping away any lingering tears with the tips of his long fingers.
“Yes… Thank you…” he murmured, his shyness still evident in how he evaded HanGeng’s eyes. “I don’t think I could thank you enough…” The softest hint of a smile played about the corners of those plush lips, and the leader found it within him to chuckle softly.
“Well then… To thank me, you can clean yourself up and come over to my hotel room. We’ll all be waiting there, there’s a carton of take-out with your name on it.” His tone was playful, his dark eyes glittering, and finally Henry looked back up at him.
“Alright then,” came his reply, his smile sweet in its sheepishness. “Thank you again, gege…” He seemed to be debating something in his mind, peering at HanGeng offhandedly- and then he was leaning in, hugging the leader tightly once again. The older man couldn’t help but smile, taking Henry back into his arms as well.
“Anytime, didi…” HanGeng replied warmly, and he pressed a soft, lingering kiss into Henry’s hair. “Now,” he started, slowly pulling away. “Like I said, clean yourself up and come over, before KyuHyun eats all of your food, too, if he hasn’t already.” His smile was bright and contagious, and Henry found it easy to return the gesture.
“I’ll be over soon,” he said honestly, his eyes glittering with a certain fondness for his leader. His cheeks a warm pink- and he wasn’t sure if it was from his crying, or from the kiss HanGeng had bestowed upon him, but he waved gracefully towards the older man, watching him leave before moving to the bathroom to clean his face. With the promise of six band mates waiting for him to join them, it made it much easier to forget all of the coarse, harsh words and criticisms that have been thrown his way. It seemed worth it, all that he had gone through, to be performing with them… And if he could, he didn’t think he’d trade it for anything in the world.