Of Time and Distances

Junhong/Youngjae

Junhong has never really believed that all you need is hard work to get you to where you wish to be. Sometimes, the obstacles that stand in one's way will always be too hard to overcome, and the circumstances you're in may just handicap you so bad you can't even start out anywhere. It's all predestined, really. Sometimes, it's just not meant to be, which is why Junhong never tries to get close to Youngjae.

He's eighteen, and he's twenty. An of three years isn't that bad if you look at it this way, but with everyone constantly accentuating the fact that you're the maknae, it turns into miles. He'll always be seen as the youngest, meant to be protected and treated like a child. Junhong won't lie that B.A.P has always had some form of division within the group. They're all close to one another but naturally Junhong and Jongup are together, Himchan and Yongguk are side by side while Daehyun and Youngjae are glued to the hip. There's really no use hiding it because that's just the instinctive order of things and it can't be helped.

Though he's resigned to knowing that he's crippled in this situation, Junhong can't help but feel bitter most of the time—that he'll always be losing out because he's born two years later—that he's not twenty-one, boorish and loud. He tries to push the thoughts away but he always ends up wondering what it'd be like to sit so close to Youngjae (legs tangled), have him lean against you and cuss at you with stupid grins and light pushes. Yes, at these times, Junhong envies Daehyun more than anything else in this world, because eight months is nothing compared to thirty-four months. Daehyun is metres away from Youngjae, while Junhong will perpetually be stuck kilometres and kilometres away.

(Junhong's heart, though, is close, so close to Youngjae—because somehow, Youngjae has unknowingly crossed miles of distance between them and taken Junhong's heart.)

--

", you're supposed to jump," Daehyun murmurs into the crook of Youngjae's neck, nudging him lightly in the ribs as Youngjae taps at his phone.

"That's coming from the guy who doesn't know his times table," Youngjae shoots back, though he lets Daehyun drape himself over him and poke at the screen.

"At least I don't list "Naruto impersonator" as one of my talents." Daehyun's cheeky grin is wiped off near instantaneously when Youngjae aims a kick at his shin, smirk taunting as Daehyun doubles over, groaning in agony.

"I did it for entertainment purposes, you idiot," Youngjae bites and rises, shaking his head.

"You kick like a whiny ," Daehyun attempts to salvage his last speck of pride with another insult. Youngjae glares and turns, but trips when Daehyun grabs on to his ankles.

"Son of a-"

"Will you guys stop venting your ual frustrations in the living room?" Himchan disdainfully eyes the wrestling pair rolling about the floor, battle cries and frequent thuds reverberating through the air. Junhong's dark eyes are on them once again, the two tumbling across ceramic tiles and knocking into furniture. Someone takes a seat beside him, but Junhong doesn't take notice.

"Are you watching?" Jongup nudges him with the remote control, and Junhong snaps out of his trance.

"Oh, no." The youngest clears his throat and watches Jongup plop on the ground with his laptop.

"Up for a round of Pokémon?"

Junhong stares for a while more. Youngjae rises from the ground, hair disheveled and clothes crumpled, and Junhong turns away when Youngjae glances at him.

"Yeah."

--

On the days when Junhong's a little more hopeful, after watching those dramas about love conquering all (you know, those with the cheesy lines Himchan swoons over, those with the bull unrealistic romance plots), Junhong tries. He joins Youngjae at the unoccupied dinner table, toying with his food.

"You should eat more," Youngjae says as he picks up a piece of meat and places it into Junhong's bowl. The taller smiles, thanks him and they turn their attention back to the television. His eyes are on the screen, but his mind is thinking of Youngjae, and his heart—well, his heart is with Youngjae.

"Didn't you say you wanted to work on a song on your own this year?" Youngjae smiles and Junhong runs a hand through his hair sheepishly.

"Yeah, hope I get the opportunity to."

"You will. Yongguk showed me some of your work, it's really good." Youngjae has this strange way of talking that makes Junhong mesmerized in some way. He doesn't really know why but it's the way Youngjae's eyes widen slightly, chocolate brown pupils hopeful and red lips parted, that makes Junhong want to believe everything he says. Youngjae pours in some vegetables into Junhong's bowl and the distance between them suddenly doesn't seem so big anymore.

Daehyun appears behind Youngjae, and gestures for Junhong to keep silent. Daehyun slaps Youngjae's cheeks and he jumps in fright, and proceeds to lunge at the cackling man. Junhong laughs, he laughs hard, laughs harder when Yongguk materialises beside him with an amused smile, and Junhong thinks then that he's meant for acting.

(Because no matter how near Junhong is, Daehyun will always be nearer.)

--

Years, months, days, minutes, seconds are all distances in different measures, and time cannot be beat. Junhong knows that because if you're eighteen, you talk about things that happened during the twenties, and if you're twenty, you talk about things that happened during the late nineteen-nineties. Nine hundred and ninety-four days; twenty-three-thousand, eight-hundred and fifty-six hours; one million, four hundred and thirty-one thousand and three hundred and sixty minutes.

The numbers are large, thus Junhong doesn't bother finding out the seconds he's away from Youngjae and places away the calculator. Jongup sits by him and quizzically points at the device with a number exceeding nine digits. Junhong shrugs and punches in random numbers, and multiplies, multiples and multiplies and Jongup lets out a hearty laugh, smacking him on the shoulder.

But these numbers don't really matter when it comes to love, strangely. Junhong doesn't know how, when, where or why he fell in love with Youngjae—they are worlds apart. Not only in years but in personalities, and the physical distance between one another because Youngjae sits at the far end of the couch while Junhong sits on the floor at the other end.

He's not sure, really—how he fell in love with a man who takes care of his group members, has too much of a sharp mouth, smiles relentlessly to cheer everyone else up but locks himself in the bathroom at night and cries over his worries. Sometimes, he takes pride in the fact that he's the one sitting outside the toilet at three in the morning, hearing Youngjae's soft sobs and being there for him always—even if the older man doesn't know it.

"Has anyone seen Youngjae?" Yongguk steps into the living room, jostling Jongup away who's still in his sleepwear. Daehyun emerges from his room in a singlet and hastily puts on his track shoes.

"He went out," Daehyun murmurs absentmindedly and Junhong rises off the floor, staring at the older man. "To where?" They turn to stare at him because they're not used to him caring, he's not supposed to, and Daehyun replies, "To nowhere in particular."

"What? Daehyun, stop it with the cryptic comments," Yongguk chides as Daehyun kicks the heels of his foot against the doorstep.

"I'm telling the truth," Daehyun answers again.

"Where are you going, then?"

"To nowhere in particular too." Daehyun tugs at his running shorts and bolts off. Junhong then realizes what Daehyun means—when you run on a track, you're not really going anywhere if you keep running around the oval. You keep running, running and running but you never reach the end because there's no end and there's no way to win the race, no matter how fast you run, no matter how hard you try.

Youngjae returns home later, drenched in sweat , bangs in wet clumps sticking to his forehead and eyes red. Yongguk gets him a towel and Himchan looks up from his magazine.

"Where's Daehyun?"

The other blinks as he wipes away the beads of pespiration trailing his neck.

"I don't know?"

"Didn't you two go out together?" Himchan arches an eyebrow. Junhong silently wishes for Himchan to just shut the hell up because Junhong's a selfish bastard and he doesn't like the way Youngjae's now staring wide-eyed at Himchan and Himchan is staring back with misty, knowing eyes and it's just- it's just not fair that both Junhong and Daehyun are there for Youngjae but Youngjae only sees Daehyun.

"No." Youngjae scratches his head. "Why would you think that? I left this morning, right after breakfast."

"So did Daehyun," Himchan says casually and closes his magazine. "I think he left right after you left."

Youngjae blinks hard, digesting the information given and Himchan gets up off the couch and heads back into the room. Junhong's throat is dry and he gets up too, but Youngjae is already heading for the bathroom, deep in thought.

--

Sometimes, time lets up on Junhong and doesn't scream at him that he's the youngest, most inexperienced member in B.A.P who debuted at a much too young age. Because when there's no one around and Youngjae's technically not around too since he's sleeping, Junhong has the courage to go up to him and wipe the dribble lining the side of his cheek.

Youngjae's been crying again—Junhong knows even if Youngjae's eyes are closed.

He turns off the television, gets him a blanket and then retreats into his room. In the early morning, he wakes up to find Youngjae sitting up with the quilt around him, slightly bewildered.

"Must be Daehyun," Youngjae mumbles groggily. All Junhong hears is can't ever be you but he doesn't say anything. Yongguk offers him some bread and rests against him tiredly, groans of fatigue down his neck. Daehyun comes over, doesn't say a word but Youngjae can read him and he follows him outside, leaning against the parapet wall. Junhong croons his neck but Yongguk is pulling him down so Junhong gives up and wraps an arm around Yongguk.

--

"Junhong, is that you?" Junhong falls back as the door opens, eyes flying wide open and staring up at Youngjae. He must have fallen asleep—he had known well the risk of this happening but somehow he had found his way to the lit bathroom and backed himself up against the mahogany door, drowning in the sound of whimpers and short breaths.

"Hyung," Junhong starts because he doesn't know what to say. Youngjae's expression is a mixture of surprise, confusion and sadness. His eyes are puffy and the tear streaks are there, but Youngjae acts as though nothing has happened.

"Junhong, what are you doing?" Youngjae scolds and shakes his head, amusement covering his face. "I could have stepped on you if I didn't notice you there."

"Hyung," Junhong tries again because he can't say Youngjae like Daehyun does.

"Are you alright?" Youngjae furrows his eyebrows and places a hand on Junhong's forehead. The taller boy takes it away and holds it, tight.

"I should be asking you that," Junhong exhales. "No, I should have asked you that a long time ago."

Youngjae stills, and then laughs. "What are you talking about?" Youngjae's incredulous chuckle diminishes into silence. " … You've been doing this, every time?"

"Yeah, Youngjae-hyung," Junhong reaches up to wipe the newly-formed tears that Youngjae tries to hide, head tilted downwards and takes the older man into his embrace. Junhong thinks now that Youngjae-hyung isn't that far from just Youngjae, and he's never really been that far off from Daehyun.

"I was always there; it's just that you never knew," Junhong whispers and Youngjae starts sobbing into his shoulder, hands with fistfuls of Junhong's shirt and suddenly, it seems like the distance had never been there at all—because Youngjae has Junhong's heart and Junhong will have Youngjae's heart too and take good care of it.

--

Time equates to distance, and distance equates to time.

"Hyung," Junhong says, watching Youngjae squirm under his touch with shallow breaths. The older man releases a moan as Junhong massages him through his boxers, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, but they flutter open once Junhong stops his ministrations.

"Hmm?" Youngjae breathes out, staring up at Junhong. They're the only two in the house, since Yongguk is at the studio, Jongup is at the gym while Himchan and Daehyun are on MC duties.

The moonlight streaming in through the window falls on them on the bed, and it illuminates Youngjae's faces in all the right places. Youngjae's shirt is halfway ed, and his face is flushed. Junhong finds the sight beautiful—the way Youngjae calls out his name when Junhong runs his tongue over his neck, the way Youngjae tilts his head back in bliss, the way Youngjae's hands tighten around Junhong's arms as the younger s into him—all these things that no one but Junhong will ever get to see.

"I love you." Junhong threads his hand through Youngjae's hair, gaze latched upon dark brown pupils.

"I love you too," Youngjae pants, hand carressing Junhong's face gently, and their lips meet.

(But when Junhong's with Youngjae, time is thrown out of the window and distance goes along with it.)

very old story from 2012 otl reuploaded, hope you enjoyed it! lojae is so adorbs yo