jeonghallelujah@tumblr: josh is practicing for a big music gig he has, can't get his fingers to work the damn guitar fast enough, is getting increasingly frustrated, jeonghan (or any other person u wanna ship him with) soothes his worries with some chocolate and maybe a massage idk? or acts silly to get him to laugh..,, idk, someone calming josh down and getting him back to a peaceful mind when he's stressed

The steady tick-tock of the clock is overlapping with the quiet tick of the metronome. Tick, tock. Tick, tick, tock, tick.

Jisoo hates it. He turns the metronome up to the highest setting, and the sound bounces off the wall and creates little echoes around the big room. Tick, tock. Tick, tick-tick, tock, tick-tick. Each tiny sound chips away at his patience.

Calmly, very calmly, he unhooks the clock from the wall and hurls it as far away as he can. It hits the opposing wall and slides to the floor.

He sits down, turns the metronome back down and starts again. His hand is quick, molding itself into familiar positions, the chord progressions he’s been practicing for hours.

But he’s not quick enough.

He’s struggling to keep up with the metronome. It mocks him with its relentless tick-tick-ticking. The chords are falling apart; one misplaced note becomes two, four, eight. No, wrong chord. No, wrong note. No, no, no, wrong, wrong, wrong-

Click. Swing.

“Hey.”

“Hi. I’ll be at the dorms in half an hour.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You were supposed to be back by one. Don’t you have a clock?”

Jisoo’s gaze drifts across the room. Jeonghan follows it.

“You broke the clock?”

“Mm.”

“That explains it.”

“Mm.”

“You won’t listen if I tell you to come back to the dorms, will you?”

“No.”

“Thought so.” Jeonghan takes a plastic chair from the stack near the door and sets it down beside Jisoo’s. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You can practice tomorrow, you know. Minhyun’s performance isn’t until next Thursday.”

“It’s, I, I still can’t get it perfect.”

“You don’t have to have it perfect right now.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Just rest, and you can play again in the morning.”

“I haven’t practiced enough.”

“You’ve been playing for five hours.” Jeonghan pries Jisoo’s fingers off of the neck of his guitar; Jisoo hadn’t even realized he was holding it so tightly. “God, Jisoo, your hand.”

“What- oh.” Jisoo stares at his fingers, marred with deep red, almost-purple lines, nestled in Jeonghan’s hands. “That’s normal.”

“No, it’s not. That must hurt. C’mon, we’re going back to the dorm.”

“No, just half an hour-”

“If you’re going to be stubborn, I’m calling Seungcheol.”

Jisoo bites the inside of his cheek. “Don’t. He needs to rest.”

“So do you.” Jeonghan’s voice softens. “Jisoo, what do you have to lose by missing half an hour of practice?”

“Everything,” Jisoo bites out. “Minhyun’s chances at doing well on the show could be ruined by me. This opportunity for Minhyun- for NU’EST- could be ruined by me.”

“You won’t ruin it.” Jeonghan’s expression softens. “I know you’re stressed.”

“Mm.”

“You don’t have to be this stressed.” Jeonghan digs in his pockets and pulls out a shiny square of aluminum foil, unwrapping it with nimble fingers. “Here. I snuck in some chocolate. Open.”

Jisoo opens and closes his mouth obediently. The chocolate melts on his tongue, and the overwhelming sweetness nudges the frustration out of his mind, chasing the thousands of thoughts away to make room for nothing but pure bliss.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Jeonghan watches Jisoo with a satisfied smile. “It’s good, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I bet Soonyoung that he’d cry during Lion King,” Jeonghan says. “I won the bet. He had to go steal a couple of fan’s gifts from the managers’ room. And guess what was in those gifts?”

“Chocolate?”

“Yup. Chocolate and cat ears.”

Jisoo makes a face, and Jeonghan laughs.

“Guess who had to wear cat ears to bed? Here’s a hint: they lost a bet.”

Jisoo cracks a smile, feeling the stress melting off of his shoulders. “You’re evil.”

“I’ve heard.”

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, with Jisoo strumming a few open chords, feeling the strings press lightly into the indents on his fingers.

“Seungcheol expects us back soon.” Jeonghan glances at his watch. “Shua, to be honest, the extra practice will only hurt you. Your fingers are going to bruise even worse. Right?”

“...Right.”

“So you’re going to come back to the dorms?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s my Jisoo.” Jeonghan ruffles his pink bangs, faded from weeks without a touch-up. “You stay put; I’ll pack up your guitar.”

Later, as Jisoo sinks into his mattress, he realizes he’s learned an important life lesson:

Everything can be fixed with the help of chocolate and Yoon Jeonghan.