OCTOBER 25TH, 2120 A.D.
—AURORA SPACECRAFT.
[129 DAYS TO MARS.]
if seonghwa was panicking about steering the ship for the first time, then he definitely did not show it.
he spots yeosang indiscreetly studying him from the corner of his sharp eyes as he busies himself with the controls. watching him curiously, as if waiting for him to show signs of anxiety. but seonghwa keeps his expression neutral and indifferent; unwavering.
and when he turns back to stare, not challenging the other- just questioning, yeosang stares back, silent, and then turns around to check their flight path again (one thing seonghwa had learnt about yeosang over the years was that he wasn't afraid to stare, and he definitely didn't care about getting caught either). seonghwa shrugs it off and keeps an eye on the outside temperature levels.
truthfully, he was shitting his pants right now- sure, they've been through a million and one simulators and worked as a team to fly ships before, and he knows how each individual works under the pressure. but this was so, so different. this wasn't a simulation, a test, an exercise. it was the real deal, and if things went haywire, then-
seonghwa doesn't want to entertain the ideas of what would happen after that.
very few words are exchanged across the room as all eight men clamber around the central bay, sixteen eyes on separate screens. the atmosphere is frantic, but not messy; nervous, but calculated. seonghwa's inky hair is slicked back to ensure none of it falls into his eyes, and hongjoong's is tied into a short tuft at the back of his head with a hair tie.
("if you're not going to shave it, then at least cut your hair shorter before the mission," some higher-up had scowled during one of their final routine checks.
hongjoong had just jutted his chin out, crossed his arms and stuck his noise in the air, resolute in keeping his hair longer. whilst he was usually obedient and efficent, he was also stubborn this way, almost rebellious. when the team had asked why he wouldn't trim his hair afterwards, he'd just shrugged and said, "don't feel like it."
seonghwa had come to learn that was a very 'hongjoong' thing to do.)
"okay, preparing to shift in five minutes! mingi, how are the fuel levels?" hongjoong shouts above the increasing whirring and firing of engines.
"stable, all according to plan so far!"
"seonghwa, temperature?" (seonghwa will choose to ignore how hongjoong's shoulders tense slightly)
"nine degrees celsius!" he hollers back, brushing off the sour taste on his tongue. he wouldn't dare let personal affairs mess up this mission so soon; not now, not ever.
san shouts coordinates and various numbers just as the thirty second countdown flashes on the main screen, red and obnoxious.
the others take a step back from the flight control deck as hongjoong, yeosang and seonghwa prepare to embark on their route to mars, with commander and second in-command ready to steer, and navigator stabilising the engines.
and then the man to seonghwa's right is yelling, "advance!", and it's gruelling work, keeping one hand on his stick shift and the other pressing a hundred buttons in the blink of an eye. it's harder than you'd imagine, flying a ship without crashing into a storm of meteors and space junk, but he supposes that's why they've got the best (san and yeosang) overseeing their route. they're turning the aurora north-east from their starting position, and they'll have to gather enough speed and distance to exit the earth's orbit before they can leave the ship on autopilot. on his left, yeosang is, for the most part, quiet, save for the occasional and mandatory calling out the engine power percentages (these are the times he's the loudest seonghwa's ever heard him speak). his eyebrows are furrowed and a pink tongue peeks out between his lips, with his glinting teeth biting it gently.
it takes ten minutes of weaving in and out of asteroids and space rubble until the aurora is finally free of the earth's orbit. seonghwa's biceps ache with the controlled force of pulling levers, and beads of sweat gather on the three steerer's foreheads. mingi's the first to whoop loudly and cheer, and suddenly, they're all hooting and celebrating and waving their limbs in the air like maniacs (they'd be jumping, if not for the anti-gravity). hongjoong's panting slightly, and as seonghwa breathes a sigh of relief, they look at each other and smile. it doesn't linger long enough to be considered a 'moment', but it's a 'something', and seonghwa allows himself to be hopeful about repairing his friendship with the other, even if he turns his head too quickly and hugs jongho instead.
after a solid five minutes of celebrations and relief, their schedules begin. as quickly as they'd gathered, they then scatter, busy with their new jobs, because being an astronaut wasn't just fun and games. hongjoong excuses himself to his private office attached to the control bay (a small room filled with files and tech and whatnot; his own private room that even has a lock on the door) to write up a report of the events just prior, yunho heads to the bio-dome, and seonghwa is left with san and yeosang to check the next section of their flight path (it was slightly tedious, having to go through every part of their route over and over again, but objects travelling through space were rebellious and unpredictable, so this was necessary). mingi and jongho, the lucky bastards, already have a free period, and with wooyoung in tow they go to explore the interesting breakfast options in the kitchen.
with all the exhausting events happening (both physically and mentally) in such a short span of time at the beginning of the day, it was easy to forget what had happened between hongjoong and wooyoung earlier.
but it seems wooyoung hasn't let it go, as he wanders back into the central bay, floating to yeosang's side. he's like a lost ghost, and then like a brooding dog when he flops his chin onto the navigator's shoulder. he doesn't flinch, or pause the sentence he's speaking- he just pats wooyoung's head mindlessly and continues on. san and seonghwa say nothing, but the woeful energy the youngest is emitting is unmistakable and suffocating. he looks so dejected, so miserable, and it doesn't suit him at all. seonghwa's much more used to his teethy grin and his lifted cheeks and ear-achingly high-frequency laugh. it's so out of character for the data controller, than seonghwa has the urge to storm into hongjoong's office right now and scold him properly for making wooyoung so sad. or maybe that's just his maternal instincts again (god fucking damnit).
thankfully, it doesn't take long for their meeting to wrap up, since the first push into their expedition went as perfectly as they could've ever imagined (seonghwa's almost a little smug about it, reminiscing on the time him and eden had picked out each candidate that stands before him. he's so proud, he has to compose himself and clear his throat). this gives them a little time to... talk?
or sort out their personal issues. read: wooyoung and hongjoong.
it's the heavy elephant in the room, and wooyoung keeps huffing (he's unaware of it, too) as he piles all his weight onto yeosang. yeosang, as their bluntest member, sighs, but not impatiently.
"wooyoung, do you want to talk?" he asks, not gently, but not harshly. yeosang has funny way of handling things, but seonghwa can't argue that his cold yet kind methods don't work.
"i guess," wooyoung replies in a whiny, dreary tone, the sort that actually means "yes, i really would", as if they hadn't realised that before.
"i tried to speak to hongjoong about it," seonghwa adds, and wooyoung looks up at him, a tad surprised, like he's just remembered seonghwa was in the room when it happened too.
"and? what'd he say?" from the look on seonghwa's face, wooyoung flops back onto yeosangs shoulder dejectedly. yeosang doesn't move away, but he doesn't move closer to wooyoung for it to be more comfortable. like seonghwa said: an enigma.
"you know what he's like. he knows he was in the wrong, he'll apologise soon. he told me he would," he says, smiling lightly at the droopy boy, and it actually does cheer him up. he lifts his chin off yeosang's (poor) shoulder, and wraps his arms tightly around him instead, like gum to the sole of a shoe.
yeosang is still statue-like, and seonghwa wouldn't find it hard to believe if he'd just turned into stone on the spot. but wooyoung's happy, and that was what mattered.
(yeosang and wooyoung were the only two that were considered friends before they'd been teamed up, and whilst they were an unlikely pair on the outside, it wasn't hard to see how well they worked together once getting to know them. they were like yin and yang; the perfect, complimentary balance of personalities, and seonghwa supposes they have a lifetime of history together, so he likes to let them be from time to time. like now, watching wooyoung wrap his legs around yeosang's own, transforming into a koala.)
anti-gravity onboard the spacecraft meant you never really knew if someone was coming round the corner, since footsteps wouldn't be heard. and that's proven now, as their commander floats into the central bay.
four pairs of eyes are on him as he freezes, clearly not expecting to deal with wooyoung (he's still latched onto yeosang's back) so early. or seonghwa either, since he purposefully looks away and at everything but him, which sends a twinge of hurt twisting in his heart.
hongjoong composes himself quickly as he makes his way into the kitchen. (the other four members in the central bay can still hear him.)
"mingi-ssi! can you help me with this report?" (all the doors are open, so their exchange is broadcasted around most of the ship, albeit a little muffled.)
"why?"
"i want your opinion on it."
"...shouldn't you ask seonghwa hyung?" the three boys turn to look at seonghwa, who's alarmed to hear his name. and who's even more alarmed to hear hongjoong sound so... unsure of himself.
"well, i figured since you've been commander before, and you have experience, then it'd be best to ask you." their leader sounds slightly agitated, and seonghwa can picture him tapping his shoe with impatience, if he weren't floating.
"seonghwa hyung is your second-in-command. ask him to help you," the younger says with finality, blunt yet reasonable. typical mingi prefers to state the obvious, instead of toeing around situations, and he's got a point. even from here, the small crowd in the central bay can hear hongjoong's resigned sigh and "very well" as he clicks his tongue, no doubt heading back.
the four boys look between each other with almost-comedic panic. they're going to be caught eavesdropping, oh god, it's going to be so awkward, where can seonghwa even hide-
"seonghwa-ssi." hongjoong is now on the opposite side of the room, with the control panels separating them. san looks like he's just swallowed a bee.
"hm?" he asks. god, he's a terrible actor. hongjoong looks between them weirdly, knowing they'd been listening.
"will you come help me file this report? i need a second opinion." he swallows shallowly, the glimpse of his adam's apple bobbing. it feels a lot more dramatic that it should be, yet the atmosphere is choking and seonghwa really wishes there was some fresh air around here.
he nods, and follows hongjoong into his office. san pats him on the back reassuringly, looking more scared than seonghwa.
seonghwa isn't scared. it's more uncertainty- like he doesn't really know where he stands with the man who's already written a four-page long report. hongjoong isn't childish or immature, he's just explosive; unpredictable and closed. and for some reason, seonghwa really wants to help him open up, or to at least understand him. he's not sure why he feels like that, because it's definitely weird, but what he does know is that he cannot stand when hongjoong refuses to look at him.
there's an unshifting, uncomfortable silence that fills the gap between them. the longer he stares, the more seonghwa notices that the roots of hongjoong's blue hair (he'd dyed it the day before lift-off, just to add insult to the injury at the higher-up who'd commented on his hair. he hadn't even trimmed it, either) are already starting to show.
hongjoong sighs. it's heavy, indiscernible, holding the weight of the entire universe in just one breath. seonghwa braces himself for the impact.
"i'm... i'm sorry," he says, fiddling with his fingers and looking at his boots. it's rare to see this kind of body language on his commander. "i know i messed up."
"what do you mean?" he asks (obviously, he is sort of aware of why hongjoong is apologising, but he wants to hear it all from him, anyway).
"i know you meant well, earlier. and i completely misunderstood your comforting words. it wasn't fair of me to blow up at you, or give you the cold shoulder." he takes a deep breath. "i don't want us to fight, especially on the first day. i was really hoping for our first memories in space to be positive; not like this." seonghwa nods in agreement. he can't help the overgrowing, fond expression that plasters his face as hongjoong finds the right words to say (but thankfully, the leader is too busy still studying his feet).
"i'm sorry. i know... i know that i'm not the easiest person to comfort, and i'm not a very likeable person." seonghwa opens his mouth to object. "so thank you for always sticking with me. i hope you'll still consider me your friend." the end of his sentence is lilted, unintentionally sounding more like a question rather than a statement. seonghwa scoffs (playfully), and finally, hongjoong's eyes are on him.
"hongjoong, it would take a lot more than a little tension for me to stop being your friend." hongjoong's ears turn a little pink.
"i trust you, you know?" he carries on, "you're a good person, and i know you'll always make the right choices. i've been your second for so long now, so i hope over time, you'll be more comfortable with me. you don't have to be so defensive; i've never thought badly about you ever in my life."
a pause settles above them as seonghwa's words sink in.
"i can't believe i almost let this affect our work. that was rule number one of things not to do," he chuckles darkly, self deprecation coating his words and leaving a bitter taste to the air around them. seonghwa takes the opportunity to pat the other's arm to brighten the mood.
"we have plenty more time to adjust. forget about it now. show me the report?" that's all seonghwa needs to say to clear the atmosphere, and when hongjoong turns to stare at him with uncertainty, seomghwa returns it with kindness and comfort.
(and also, they really need to send this report before the bosses back on earth believe they're already dead.
-☆-
"hello, hello, hello, residents of the spacecraft aurora," announces the crackly voice over the new intercom, "if you have a free period right now, then please make your way to the kitchen, where we will be testing the rehydrated kimchi jiggae for lunch!"
"jongho, we're all here," mingi says to the overexcited younger, but jongho chooses to ignore him. he'd been begging to be the first to use their intercom system all day, and the huge shit-eating grin on his face proved it to be every bit satisfactory as he'd imagined.
according to the clock, it's just on the edge of becoming one in the afternoon, and mingi, jongho, yunho and hongjoong are finally catching their first break. the ship's youngest teammates had been indisposed of work all day so far (in seomghwa's words yet again, the lucky bastards), but the potent smell of space food cooking seemed to imply they'd kept busy.
the other half of the crew were still busy on schedule, so unfortunately, they couldn't try jongho's (skeptical) lunch.
"so this... is rehydrated kimchi jiggae?" hongjoong asks hesitantly, watching the artificial-looking stew fall off his spoon with a resonating plop. it was definitely a lot thicker than it's familiar liquid consistency, what with the anti-gravity and all, but at least there was kimchi and scallions and some rather odd looking pieces of tofu. was it tofu? yunho's examining his bowl of stew carefully too.
mingi winces under jongho's expectant stare. or, it could be classified as a glare; mingi had tried backing out of trying the food before, and it was better to eat it himself than to have the youngest shovel it into his mouth.
"i'll do a countdown." the commander takes a deep breath as he scoops up a generous amount of stew (with that consistency, it seemed more fitting to be a paste rather than stew). yunho and mingi nod feverishly, spoons at the ready. jongho just stands there, of course, arms crossed and his wide grin unwavering. not even trying it for himself, curse him.
"three, two, one." the three boys force the food into their mouths, eyes screwed tight, preparing themselves for the worst.
as much as hongjoong would hate to admit it, it actually tasted good. definitely not the worst vacuum packed meal in their kitchen shelves (he knows in advance to steer clear from the weird imitation bulgogi).
"is it good?" jongho asks eagerly, scanning everyone's faces. he receives mixed reactions: whilst hongjoong and yunho seem to somewhat enjoy it, from mingi's face it's clear he's ready to vomit out the abomination. dramatically, he grabs some tissue to spit out his tiny mouthful, and theatrically retches for good measure. the rest of them laugh loudly at his pained expression.
"what even is that? that's an insult to kimchi jiggae! jongho, you're fired!" he exclaims, turning away to find something more edible to eat for lunch.
an easy silence falls upon them as three boys eat their lunch and mingi prepares the fail-safe bulgogi they've already tried and tested on earth (hongjoong encouraged him to take the packet- it really wouldn't be missed).
"yunho-yah, do you know where wooyoung is right now?" he asks quietly to the herbologist, even though he knows everyone can hear him. it's slightly awkward, but hongjoong bites the bullet. it's his punishment for being a lousy commander and friend, he thinks.
in fact, he already knows where wooyoung is. on one of the many monitors in the central bay, there's a map layout of the spacecraft, and from the heat signatures they give off, it accurately shows with a little coloured arrow where all the members are on the ship. wooyoung's arrow is black, he knows, and it's pointing to a little corner in the laboratory in module two.
"he's in the labs. i think he's just putting the equipment in order," yunho answers obediently. it's obvious, so obvious why hongjoong is asking, so like the good friends they are, they don't ask any questions, for which he's eternally grateful for. he's always struggled with explaining himself more than necessary.
"i'm heading back to the bio-dome," yunho proclaims after finishing his lunch, throwing away the paper bowl and wooden spoon. "i'm still learning about how the vegetables are responding onboard. jongho, wanna come with?"
the chef nods quickly and clamours after him, their echoing chatter fading as they enter module three of the ship. hongjoong stays quietly, thoughtful, even after finishing his meal, and when mingi's finished his.
"i'll be in the medical bay if you need me," mingi says. "good luck, hyung." hongjoong nods back at the boy as he leaves. the medical bay in just opposite the laboratory, and hongjoong knows that even though mingi is their doctor, he's chosen to purposefully stay close by for support. he supposes it's common knowledge that apologising and communicating with others over personal matters is particularly difficult for him, so he really does need all the luck he can get.
before changing his mind, he disposes his bowl and makes his way west to the labs, a few minutes behind mingi. as he passes the sealed trapdoor containing the out-of-bounds repair room, he feels a stabbing guilt that's teasing his lunch up his throat. he gulps it down. it's simple, he can do this.
even though all of them had considered each other best friends at this point (an unspoken arrangement, but self-explanatory, if they were to be in space for the next decade and a half together), hongjoong always had significantly more trouble communicating with the others. and it's shameful to say that he's never had a proper bonding moment with wooyoung alone, within the two years of knowing and working with him. sometimes, wooyoung's just a bit too loud for him (he says this non-judgementally, and doesn't mean it critically), and their personalities seemed to clash sometimes. but that's not to say they aren't friends- they really are, and they've shared some good moments together.
in short, hongjoong's not sure how to say sorry to wooyoung, or if he'll accept his apology. god, his hands are starting to sweat as he presses the code to open the laboratory doors.
wooyoung doesn't look up from his organising, but he does stop humming his pleasant tune; a sign he's acknowledged someone else has come in.
"hi, hongjoong hyung," he says rather timidly, a stark contrast to the confident and deafening volumes he usually speaks with. hongjoong should be surprised that wooyoung knows it's him at the doorway, but wooyoung's not stupid. "what's up?"
a lot, he wants to say.
"are you free right now?" he asks with the same quietness as he finds a comfortable spot that isn't in the way of their work (he's still used to finding somewhere to sit, rather than just floating instead. it's weird, but he signed up for it). as if on cue, the bell rings for two o'clock, signalling the start of hongjoong's shift, but the end of wooyoung's. wooyoung smiles (still not looking at him), using the alarm as his answer.
hongjoong's schedule can wait. he was supposed to be finished off the report about their first advance into their journey, but with seonghwa's help, they'd finished up quickly, and that left him with some free time already.
he takes a deep breath; one of the many he's had to take today.
"can we talk?"
"sure," wooyoung says, wiping his hands on his jumpsuit pants and finally looking at hongjoong. hongjoong's usually so confident, so careful; the opposite of the clammy, speechless mess he is right now.
it's the guilt. it's the drowning, suffocating blanket of guilt he's trapped under that's making him feel so... terrible. whilst wooyoung is opposite him, a bigger man than himself, forcing himself to look at hongjoong's straying glances.
hongjoong doesn't even know why he said the codename- it'd just slipped accidentally. and even though he knows he's in the wrong, he hates admitting it.
time to rip the bandaid off the wound.
"wooyoung, i'm sorry," he starts, and wooyoung drops his head, though still listening. "i'm such a shit leader and friend for calling you raven in a situation so minor. i know how much you hate it. i-" he's rambling now, almost incoherent. the younger shushes him, calming him down.
"i know, hyung. you were stressed. i get it. i'm not even that mad anymore- i understand the position you were in."
"and i know i ignored your help when trying to fix the radiator too. i should've let you handle it- it's what you're most qualified for." he lets out a lungful of relief and inner torment.
wooyoung nods silently, a form of acceptance. "thanks. i accept your apology. let's just learn from this instead, yeah?"
wooyoung is a saint, an angel sent from heaven, a beautiful thing hongjoong doesn't deserve-
the engineer wraps hongjoong into a tight hug, catching him by surprise.
but it's a lovely surprise. hell, hongjoong enjoys it a lot more than he'd care to admit (he's not a touchy person, at all), and wraps his own arms around the other. wooyoung is just as surprised about the contact.
"i though you didn't like hugs," he states playfully, pulling hongjoong closer.
"i don't," he replies gruffly. he doesn't move away, though. wooyoung is warm, and the perfect height to hug, and this probably the last time the leader will accept physical affection so intimate.
"so we're good?" he asks hesitantly. it's a bit muffled, since his face is smushed into the crook of wooyoung's neck, and wooyoung laughs at the ticklish vibrations.
"yeah, we're good. just don't do it again, or next time i won't be so forgiving." that's a bargain too good to be true for the commander, and he squeezes wooyoung a little tighter before releasing the hug. surprisingly, once both men let go, it's not as awkward as hongjoong expects, to which he's thankful for. the last few hours alone was enough tension to last him the whole duration of the mission.
"i'm starving- i'm going to the kitchens. are you coming?"
"no, i'm back on schedule," he says with a childish pout. wooyoung laughs- something that brightens his own spirits. "i'd highly recommend the kimchi jiggae, though."
"noted. thanks, lucky!" wooyoung calls as he quickly exits the room. hongjoong chuckles. he deserves that, and he should've known wooyoung wasn't going to just sit back without getting some sort of revenge. he sighs fondly and heads back to his office, feeling much more lighter and happier than he'd felt all day.
-☆-
eight o'clock means team bonding exercises, according to san.
which is why all eight members are in the living quarters, catching up on their interesting findings and own accounts of the day's events. seonghwa is the last to enter the room, and it warms his heart to see the rest of the kids whoop and cheer at his arrival.
"hyung! you're just time. you can pick the movie for tonight, if you want." san thrusts a bunch of dvds into his arms with his sunny smile.
"yeosang-ah, you pick the film tonight. i'm not really in the mood," he says good-naturedly, thrusting the pile into the navigator's arms, even if he looks like he's about to object. he goes to float next to hongjoong, ignoring the whines around him.
"that's favouritism right there! we all know yeosang's your favourite kid!" jongho cries dramatically, clutching his heart and holding onto yunho's arm. seonghwa snorts.
"i never said that. pass the chocolate, please."
it takes a little while for them all to settle (you'd think they were children, not young adults), but soon, they collapse into a tangle of limbs in front of the blaring screen.
that's when seonghwa feels it.
what starts as a mild migraine transforms into fully blown vertigo- it feels like his brain is spinning in circles, and there are three versions of everything in the room. white hot needles sear into his skull, and a sinking nausea clutches onto the pit of his stomach. he wants to throw up, but his throat is as dry as a desert, and he'd probably choke on his own vomit if he did.
he supposes the events of the first day must've been a lot for him to handle. but he can't compromise the mission, or worry the others, so he sucks it up and untangles himself from the human pile.
"i don't feel so well, so i'm gonna head to bed early. if you need me, don't hesitate to knock," he says, but he's not sure if he's slurring his speech or not. the others nod and murmur back, focusing on the screen again.
"goodnight, hyung."
"sleep well!"
he waves at them distractedly as he exits the room and bumps into the walls of the ship, trying to make it safely to his own sleeping pod. feverishly, he strips off his uniform and climbs into sleepwear, and it feels like bliss when his head meets his pillow.
day one of mission sunrise: complete. 128 more days until they reach mars.
the ac is turned on in his pod, but his body is burning.
seonghwa's sure it's nothing.
—
an extra long chapter because why not :D i hope you guys are taking care! ily <3