{if your heart wears thin} | aj/hoon

it's about three hours into their flight, and halfway through the movie he was watching on eli's ipad, that aj feels a strange weight drop itself onto his shoulder. upon looking over, he sees hoon sleeping peacefully against him, nose slightly red from all the sneezing he had been doing. the boy had been trying to pull through his cold, drinking lots of tea to combat his sore throat; but as the throat pains went away, the sneezing and coughing replaced them. aj could relate, he's been a sneezing mess every since allergy season started.

it was nice to see the boy finally resting, as the group had been so busy lately. even when they had time to nap, backstage or in the van, hoon was always restless, shifting and making noises as he slept. now, however, the boy was getting some much-needed sleep and aj swelled up a little in pride at the knowledge that hoon was sleeping on his shoulder, and not on dongho who was on the other side of hoon.

aj could feel hoon's hair touching his jawline and the boy's breath was puffing out against his neck with a regular rhythm. his hair looked soft and fluffy, messed up from having had a hat on earlier, and aj was struck with the desire to touch it. he awkwardly reached his right arm across his body to just barely reach hoon's head and aj wasn't surprised that his hair was just as soft as he expected it to be.

aj spends another few minutes watching him, ignoring the movie that was still playing through his headphones. he examines hoon's face, going over all the details. the boy was exceptionally good-looking; a handsome set of features combined with the round cheeks that give him an innocent and cherubic image.

oftentimes aj finds himself wondering if hoon is really as innocent as he seems, but he always cuts the thought off before it gets too far. he knows better than to try to find out, to taint the boy's sweetness with his own harsh edges. he's naive, almost completely untouched from the bitter reality of the music industry. even if it's unlikely hoon is as childlike as he appears, aj doesn't even want to entertain the idea that the boy lying on him could be anything but sweet and gentle. he's a breath of fresh air,  a small reminder that beauty can be found in surprising places.

aj is content to just watch that beauty unfold—whether across a stage or here, lying gently on his shoulder. he doesn't need to say anything, he wouldn't dream of it, and if he clings to the boy a little longer than usual, nobody says a thing.

hoon sleeps the best he has in days, dreaming of gold and silver, of piano notes and of the soft touch of fur under his fingers.