as it goes like waves

Jungwon runs into Jongseong when he’s out eating dinner with his family. It’s a little shocking, to see Jongseong in the same room as him again, and he wonders for a moment if he should even say hello. 

 

Jongseong isn’t with his family. He’s sharing a meal with some friends, laughing at some joke that’s been said, cheerful and loud--if Jungwon hadn’t already recognized him, face changed from a year apart from each other, then the voice would’ve been a dead giveaway regardless--and he looks away. 

 

“Is that your friend?” His mother asks, placing a hand on Jungwon’s shoulder. “Come on, you should go say hi.”

 

Jungwon shakes his head. “Just someone I thought I knew,” he lies easily. 

 

Except: not more then a couple of minutes later, Park Jongseong’s standing in front of all of them.

 

“Jungwon, I thought it was you!” he says, after greeting the rest of Jungwon’s family. “I don’t mean to interrupt--but can we just--”

 

“Yeah, let’s catch up,” Jungwon says, standing up from the table. Lately his parents have been worried about him, about whether he’s been having enough friends or seems well-adjusted. He isn’t sure why--especially when they’ve rarely given him much thought in the past--but if an opportunity presents itself for him to contradict that, then he’ll readily take it. 

 

Jongseong’s friends have left already, Jungwon realizes. They step outside of the restaurant, and Jongseong rests his hand briefly on Jungwon’s shoulder as they step through the doors. Jungwon had forgotten that, how casually Jongseong touched everyone. He can’t tell if he liked the surprise of it.

 

It’s summer, it’s not as hot as it should be.

 

“So, how’s BigHit, hyung?” Jungwon asks. He’s already internally composing what to say when Jongseong decides to direct that same sort of question back at him. 

 

“It’s good, Jungwon-ah,” he replies. “They focus a lot on the dancing, and it’s like--I don’t know. I feel like I’m improving a lot.” As he speaks, he faces out towards the street, his face reflecting the yellowish glow of the streetlights. Jongseong is not someone Jungwon had ever found particularly handsome, but the look on his face--that idea that he’s found his dream, that he’s found the right way--is hard to look at, stirs something within him that he doesn’t quite know how to categorize. 

 

Maybe it’s envy. 

 

“What about you, Jungwon-ah?” Jongseong asks him. “Is training going well?” Jungwon knows what he really means is, <i>is there any news of debut?</i>

 

It’s been three years, and nothing. “It’s fine,” Jungwon says carefully. In response to Jongseong’s expectant look, he adds: “Nothing’s changed, really.”

 

And isn’t that the worst part? Three years, and nothing has changed. He knows that’s to be expected--has heard of idols training for five, seven years before reaching debut--but faced with Jongseong who seems like he’s changed, has found something new, it cuts deep. 

 

“I know it’s hard,” Jongseong says. It’s one of the first times Jungwon has heard his voice in a volume level that could be described as ‘soft.’ “But if there’s anyone that I knew  could do it, it’d be you.”

 

“Thanks,” Jungwon replies. He knows that Jongseong’s just saying things to be encouraging, just saying things, in general. 

 

“No, I’m serious,” Jongseong insists. “I lasted, what, a couple months at SM? Meanwhile this little elementary schooler can sing and dance better than I can.”

 

“Yah,” Jungwon protests. “I’m not an elementary schooler.”

 

“I know you aren’t. Not anymore, at least.” Jongseong seems pensive for a couple of moments, before he adds, “You know, if SM doesn’t work out for you, then maybe you should join BigHit.” He bites his lip. “Change is good, and--and if you’re anywhere near as good as I remember, you’d be better than at least half the trainees.”

 

Jungwon never knows what to say in response to stuff like that--just ignores it instead, lets it pass away. 

 

“Alright,” he says slowly. “I’ll think about it.” He says it with the assumption that he’ll never see Jongseong again, says it knowing he’s resigned himself to a couple more years at SM.

 

(But then again--only a couple months later, and Jungwon passes on his portfolio to the agency, and his life does change, just a little.)

notes: don't ask me what this scene is about i think i wanted to make the fic a bit more angsty at first or something ??!!@# 
 

To this day Jungwon doesn’t know if he regrets the trip to Brunei or not. Jongseong had unknowingly given him so many things that he’d missed out on--school trips, hanging out with friends closer to his age, joy that didn’t derive from satisfaction of practice, but instead existed in and of itself, wispy and giddy in the summer heat. 

 

There’s one thing, though--Jongseong gets the impression that they’re <i>friends</i> now because of the trip. Which is fine, of course it’s fine, except Jungwon’s only a year removed from his days at SM. He knows that nothing is certain, that it could easily end up that Jongseong fades away in his memories as a trainee he once knew or that Jongseong and Heeseung could debut without him. 

 

And it’s that--having to say goodbye, always having to let go and move on, eventually--that scares Jungwon the most. 

 

“Jungwon-ah,” Jongseong says after a practice, a couple days after they return from Brunei. “Wanna grab dinner together?” It went without saying that he’d pay--he always insisted on paying when it came to his dongsaengs, and one time when Jungwon had been with him and Heeseung at a cafe Jongseong had recognized some of his hoobaes from school and insisted on treating them to a slice of cake. The one time Jungwon hadn’t seen this in action had been when Heeseung paid for all three of them, silencing Jongseong with a hand on his forearm. 

 

Jongseong’s still tanned from the sun in Brunei. Sunshine on his skin, it shouldn’t suit him--no, it doesn’t suit him naturally, Jungwon decides. He doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not. It’s just the ease of his smile that sets everything at rights, that makes him hard to look at. 

 

Jungwon thinks of his grandmother who waits at home for his return, and he shakes his head. “I can’t.”

 

Jongseong’s smile deflates a little. “As expected, I guess.” He’s so obviously disappointed at such a small thing, so used to everything going his way, that it almost irks Jungwon even more. 

 

Then Jungwon thinks a little further--of how quickly Jongseong had cared for him over the past couple days, of how Jongseong had looked whenever he talked to Heeseung--and he says, “You don’t have to do this, hyung.”

 

Jongseong blinks at him. “What do you mean?” he asks.

 

Jungwon wets his lips. They’re cracked and dry as he runs his tongue over them, and he knows that on the way home he’ll be biting them ragged once again. “Just because you took me on that trip,” Jungwon says. He isn’t sure what exactly about Jongseong’s wide-eyed expression frustrates him so much. “That doesn’t mean you own me now.”

 

With that, he walks away, heart pounding--not sure what he just left behind, what he had chosen to cast away. 

“It’s just--you’re such a capable leader, and a diligent idol, that sometimes I forget,” Heeseung replies. “You’re a boy, too.”

 

Jungwon thinks he forgets too, sometimes. Maybe that’s why spending time with Jongseong feels so different--carefree, floaty, never too serious, not because they can’t be serious with each other but because that levity is a privilege of its own. 

 

Regardless, that’s not what Jungwon’s asking for. “Come <i>on,</i> hyung,” he says, feeling a little embarrassed. “Surely you have advice.”

 

“I don’t know,” Heeseung replies. He stares at the paused TV screen, pensive. For a moment, he looks almost sad, his face reflecting the blue-white light of the FIFA game. “It’s not like I had much of a chance to deal with these things, either.” He pauses, and Jungwon can see the hesitation, that moment where Heeseung visibly decides to hold back from crossing some invisible barrier he’s constructed for himself. Taking the easy, safe way out, in a way that Jungwon rarely experiences seeing from Heeseung directed towards <i>him.</i> 

 

He isn’t sure whether to feel hurt when all Heeseung adds is, “Maybe try asking Sunghoon or Jaeyun, they probably have more experience with this than I do.” There’s something Heeseung isn’t telling him, something hidden in his posture that Jungwon can’t help but want to find out about. 

 

But Jungwon’s interrupted from questioning Heeseung any further when Riki returns back from the bathroom, eager for another game of FIFA. 

That’s the thing about an idea, isn’t it. Once it’s been planted, once it begins, he can’t shake it off. 

 

This time, Jungwon can’t push it aside. And he’s someone who deals with his problems by fixing them, by looking towards a solution, so he decides to corner Sunghoon as he’s stretching with his foam roller later that night.

 

“What is it, Jungwon-ah?” Sunghoon asks. He doesn’t break in his whole routine of using the foam roller, although he does pause and look over when Jungwon doesn’t reply immediately.

 

“Heeseung-hyung told me to go talk to you,” Jungwon begins. He crouches down on the floor, down by where Sunghoon lays on the exercise mat. “Hyung, how did you… stop having feelings for someone?”

 

Sunghoon raises his eyebrows at that, but thankfully doesn’t push any further. He’s good at knowing where boundaries lie, even better at never crossing them. So he continues with his foam roller, and he talks in his awkward, hesitant sort of way with his eyes trained at the ground. 

 

“You--you knew about her, right,” Sunghoon says. He doesn’t need to elaborate on who, exactly, this nameless <i>her</i> is for Jungwon to understand. Still remembers Jongseong’s whispered gossip about the whole thing, the underlying jealousy in his voice. Jungwon had been too young, then, to feel much of anything; even now he thinks he’s only just beginning to understand, grasping on the edges of it. 

 

“I--yes,” Jungwon admits sheepishly. He’s pretty sure it was supposed to be a secret, but between Heeseung and Jongseong and him very little was ever kept hidden. 

 

Sunghoon sighs. “I figured you would. Do you know why we broke up, though?”

 

“Because of I-Land?” Jungwon guesses. Everyone gave up something, a little piece of their normal before-life, when they went onto I-Land.

 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It was a couple months before that. Before I quit figure skating, even.” 

 

“Oh.”

 

Sunghoon sits up so that he’s facing Jungwon properly, head on. “Honestly, I don’t have any hard feelings about it--because I pursued it to the best of my abilities, and when it didn’t work, it didn’t.”

 

“Doing things without having regrets, that’s the most important,” Sunghoon continues. 

 

Shit. Jungwon thinks about it for a couple of moments. “Are you saying I should--”

 

“I’m not saying anything, Jungwon-ah,” Sunghoon says gently. “I’m just telling you my side of things.”

 

Jungwon swallows hard. “Thanks, hyung,” he replies. 

 

Early on, everyone is having a rough time of settling in and adjusting to their respective roles. It’s one thing to be an individual trainee, another thing to have temporary groups and alliances on I-Land, and something else entirely to have this permanent team. All seven of them, Enhypen, that <i>one, two, three--connect!</i> which still hasn’t quite translated into reality yet. 

 

Of course there’s bound to be awkwardness. Later, they’ll laugh about this time in interviews and V Lives, they’ll marvel at how far they’ve come. But now, in the thick of the confusing, disorienting present, every day is a balancing act. 

 

Case in point:

 

They’re only a couple weeks into preparing for their first comeback when Sunoo sidles up to him during a break in their dance practice and says, hushed, “When will it stop being awkward with Jongseong-hyung?”

 

Jungwon blinks at him. “When you want it to be,” he replies. It’s no secret that Sunoo and Jongseong don’t see eye to eye--not out of anything malicious, any real antipathy--but just simple disconnect. How ironic. 

 

“I don’t like it,” Sunoo says absentmindedly. “And Jongseong-hyung--well, Jongseong-hyung doesn’t like me.”

 

Jungwon doesn’t know what to make of it. He knows that with Jongseong--chronic overthinker, insecure and amusing, forever ruminating yet somehow oblivious--things are never as simple as like or dislike. He’s pretty sure if he asked Jongseong directly he’d receive a fifteen-minute dissertation on the topic that wouldn’t point in a conclusive direction of any emotion in particular. 

 

“Doesn’t like is too strong, probably,” Jungwon offers lightly, because that’s the best he’s got at the moment. Sometimes Jongseong’s open emotions--clear affection, clear disinterest--can truly work against him. 

 

Right now, Jongseong’s laughing, tugging Riki close to him, lost in a happy moment. Jungwon watches the two of them for a couple of seconds. 

 

Jongseong, he thinks, isn’t hard to love. Not when he’d readily drop anything to help a member, even Sunoo. Not when he’d sacrifice himself for the team, regardless of how bad he looks. But sometimes he is difficult to like. Hard on the ears, blunt to the point of being rude, outspokenness taken too far. 

 

“Look, hyung,” Jungwon tells Sunoo. “I’ll talk to him, we’ll sort this out.” 

 

Sunoo nods, relieved. “Thanks, Jungwon-ah.” He closes his eyes, leans his head back against the wall. “You’re doing so well as a leader, you know.”

 

“It’s been less than a month,” Jungwon protests. 

 

Sunoo turns to him, then. Offers up a smile, so bright and charming and endlessly cute. “I just know, though,” he says, and the words coming from his mouth sound so certain that Jungwon can’t refute them any longer. 

 

note: cut this because jongseong/the rest of enhypen CHANGED THEIR HAIRSTYLES and i didn't want to contradict ~canon~ but yes every day i just want black-haired pjs back <3
 

Time passes fast enough. It’s easy for Jungwon to throw himself into the work, into being the leader. It’s also the first time, he’s beginning to realize, that Jongseong’s ever deliberately distanced himself. Sometimes they’ll have normal moments, laughing as usual with each other, and then Jongseong reaches out to touch him and pauses before he makes complete contact. 

 

It’s awkward. It makes Jungwon realize, even more than before, how much he had subconsciously sought out Jongseong’s touch, had relied on that gentle, minor support. He can do without it--of course he can, he never needs anything--but he finds himself compensating by sticking by Heeseung’s side more often and actually satisfying Rki’s need for cuddles. 

 

A couple weeks pass in this fashion. They don’t spend any time along in a room together, barely even converse alone. Jungwon can’t tell whether he’s completely ruined everything or not--he doesn’t think Jongseong’s <i>angry</i> at him, or anything, but as any other emotion--he can’t exactly tell. 

 

It only starts to become clear when they all head to the hair studio again. Jungwon’s keeping the same black hair--again, he’s not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed--and is sent back home early with some of the others. 

 

Jongseong finds him, alone in the hair and makeup room, when he gets back. “I was looking for you, Jungwon-ah,” he says breathlessly. He shuts the door behind him, then walks towards Jungwon. He then takes off his hat, running his fingers through his hair a little self-consciously. “What do you think--”

 

Jungwon stands up, reaching out to touch his bangs. “Done with the middle part, hm?” he says. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen so little of Jongseong’s forehead. It softens him, and maybe it’s just the distance of the past few weeks, but Jungwon doesn’t think he’s looked this good in a while. 

 

Jongseong shrugs. “Maybe it’s time for a change,” he says. He’s looking right at Jungwon. They’re so close, now, closer than they have been for the past several days. 

 

Jungwon raises his eyebrows. “It looks good, hyung,” he replies simply. “But you knew that.”

 

Jongseong opens his mouth, about to reply, when the door bursts open. It’s Jake, calling them to dinner.