Fine {DoTae} | complete

Nineteen

TW: binging, mentions of vomit, suicidal thoughts

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Life goes up and down, but no matter how Doyoung is feeling life keeps going on. He can't escape it, not when fans crowd them on the streets or after concerts, not when his mother phones him twice a day and not when Taeyong cowers in his arms for yet another sleepless night. They both succumb to the pressure, and Doyoung can only let it wash over him, limp from resisting for so long. He grapples with reality. He spends more time in his head, letting entire afternoons pass without absorbing a single interview or photoshoot or concert rehearsal. He talks to himself a lot, and he knows Taeyong pretends not to hear.

He starts sneaking out of hotels on his own to go for walks. Taeyong doesn't stop him, sending him off with a kiss and a smile that hides his concern, and Doyoung has to resort to his phone whenever he gets lost in the streets of a new city. Amongst skyscrapers and parks that stretch for miles, Doyoung is a mere speck of dust that anyone could trample on at any moment. Sometimes he wishes people would. He'd rather be ignored than stalked down the street by Taeyong's fans.

Taeyong's music flies up the charts. He releases a new song, complete with a sensual music video filmed on the side of a highway, and the American fans love it. Taeyong screams when he hears it on the radio for the first time. With the increasing popularity comes more interviews and magazines, and with the promotions come more fans, the loop cycling round and round and out of control until even the staff freeze in the headlights. Inevitably it all leads to more speculation about Doyoung. He becomes the shadow behind Taeyong that no one can reach but that everyone tries to reach.

He enjoys the thrill of walking out in the open, alone. As much as he hates it and as much at it feeds his anxiety, he can't deny that the recognition pleases a tiny worm inside his head that's always craved attention after being deprived for so long. Scrolling through social media, he appreciates the edits people make from the vlogs he's appeared in. He watches them both with frustration pooling in his gut and excitement snaking over his skin. The fame is a double-edged sword, but he learns to live with it because he can't escape it.

Translating what he can of the American articles, he learns the media find him cute, that the fans adore him and want to see more of him. Doyoung imagines running away again to find a cute cottage in the middle of nowhere with Taeyong, away from the hateful comments. But they can't do that, so Doyoung finds ways to improve himself. He starts styling his hair like Taeyong does. The first time he asks for some of his spray, Taeyong raises an eyebrow and doesn't pass it over until he relents and shows Doyoung how to do it. Next comes the makeup. Just dots of concealer here and there – a brief internet search says the cause of his spots is likely stress, but also perhaps eating too much sugar – turn into rummaging through Taeyong's makeup bag when the idol is out at schedules and following a tutorial for simple eyeshadow to add some shine to his face. He washes it off immediately and scratches at his skin for the rest of the day, hating the feeling of the products clinging to his skin, but he still wants to give it another go.

He focusses back on food, something that's easier to control. He chooses the salads when they go out to eat. He gets accustomed to hunger again. He digs through fans' comments to find every mention of his weight and appearance. He does squats while Taeyong is out, jumping jacks and sit ups, anything to try to tone his body a bit more. He works out whenever he can. His body soon adjusts, the aches fading to a dull longing to lose weight, and his muscles seem to remember when he'd do just the same as a teenager. When they have sex Taeyong traces his flat stomach, pinches where his hips are still soft, and it's not until the third time that he says something.

"Have you been working out?" he asks, voice husky and gentle.

Doyoung purses his lips and tries to get Taeyong to move. Instead, Taeyong holds him like he's made of glass and runs his cold fingertips over his stomach again.