Distant Dreams

O n e

Taehyung can't feel the paint dot on his cheeks like freckles as he swings his brush haphazardly across the canvas, feeling slightly insane, but completely in control.The blank space spoon begins to take life under Taehyung's skilled hands, and Hoseok has to physically rip the brush out of the younger's hand, reminding the Lilac-haired man it's one in the morning and that he needs to sleep because there is an important meeting tomorrow taehyung sputters as he watched his beloved and current manager ( but really, says it's more like herding a cat than managing a person) he placed the brush neatly on his disaster zone of a desk.Hoseok taps his foot expectantly, as he waits for taehyung to fully come out of artist mode and back into land of the living. "Hyung...I was almost done!" Taehyung wines, feeling only 5 of his 25 years as he flails his lanky arms in a pathetic attempt to get his way."That's what you said yesterday" Hoseok counters." And I was, Hyung I swear, but she just needed some final touches,".Taehyung gazes lovingly at his newest piece, almost reaching over to stroke the canvas as if it was a pet than an inanimate object. Hoseok rolls his eyes, and Taehyung knows the elder isn't taking any bulls**t tonight." Taehyung, you locked yourself away in her the past few days. You only eat when i force you to. When's the last time you slept?" Hoseok nags, giving taehyung a look that reminds the younger that sometimes - Always- knows him better than he knows himself. " But, Hyung..." Taehyung pouts, knowing he's lost this time, but not quite ready to admit defeat.He points to the canvas helplessly, as though that will change Hoseok's mind." you can finish tomorrow, after the meeting."Hoseok says with a level of finality the Taehyung can't argue with as his family begins to feel about sleep deprivation. And maybe Hoseok is right.He follows Hoseok quietly out of the studio and into the passenger seat of the waiting car. He wonders if they can go to the 24 hour convenience store on his street to get his favorite roman,but he's out like a light before he can say a word.And that's just fine with Hoseok.That's why he's there, to be Taehyung's voice, and his protector.He doesn't mind that his job entails babysitting and late nights, because its Taehyung.They had been friends since high school when a rather popular Hoseok prevented some school bullies from molesting a very introverted Taehyung in the art room one fateful night.Six years later, Taehyung still needs Hoseok's help, Hoseok is just fine with that.hoseok knows how to deal with taehyung when he goes into one of his artistic hazes.Taehyung has a gift, and while no one knows how his brain works, Hoseok is the only one who has ever gotten close. He doesn't pretend to understand Taehyung, but he never forgets to show that he cares, and really, that's all the younger needs.It sure keeps things interesting, Hoseok thinks, Grinning, as a loud snore from the form in the passenger seat.Pulling up to Taehyung's building in Gangnam, Hoseok shakes the young artist gently. Still not quite coherent, Taehyung lets himself be led by the arm into the elevator, up to his floor, through his door, and tucked right into his bed.Taehyung manages to mumble "Thanks", before he started to drift back into some dream world where Hoseok doesn't care to follow."You work to hard, Tae" Hoseok whispers as he shuts off the penthouse lights and closes the door behind him, longing for his own bed, seemingly eons away.

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"Taehyung,"Taehyung's perfectly constructed field of daisies and unicorns is shaking."Taehyung,"Now he himself is shaking. The white clouds are becoming darker, and Taehyung panics as the image fades to black behind his eyes."Kim Taehyung!"With a loud thud, Taehyung finds himself on the floor, definitely not in the land of the unicorns, as he stares up at his Hobi hyung."Hyung, when'd you get so tall?" the younger mumbles, rubbing his eyes and hoping that he can just get another five minutes..."You're taller than me, idiot," Taehyung feels himself being dragged by his legs along the carpet, and he lets out something between a whine and a scream as he kicks his limbs in protest.