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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

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candyman; lee heeseung

(6,893 words) - large

summary ➣ Heeseung has never been prouder to witness his boyfriend, Y/N’s, first ever serious acting role. However, he doesn’t find out what that role was exactly, until he forces the rest of ENHYPEN to watch Y/N’s movie with him.

genre ➣ fluff

requested - 👍

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Heeseung sat in the living area of ENHYPEN’s dorm rooms, eagerly awaiting for all his members after ripping them all away from their states of half-sleep to join him on the couch. His boyfriend, Y/N, was an actor rising rapidly in popularity, and he was set to star in a new murder-mystery movie that garnered so much attention and media coverage that Twitter was already brimming with theories and hype before Y/N could even tell Heeseung. Heeseung couldn’t be prouder of his boyfriend’s success, and as soon as he managed to drag a release date and time out of Y/N, Heeseung spent weeks emptying up his schedule so he could watch the movie the moment it releases, and binge as much interview content from Y/N’s movie premiere as he could bear to keep his eyes open for.

Y/N was getting ready for the premier earlier that day, just before the sun slipped away behind the skyline, left its fiery kiss in the sky for moments before the violets of the night sky bleed through and bloomed in its place. Heeseung was straightening out the collar of Y/N’s suit, begging him to wear the cologne that hung like diamonds around their first kiss, and finding himself unable to stop himself from hanging from Y/N’s lips as Y/N tried to make his way out the door - he was almost late (and mildly concussed) because of how many times Heeseung couldn’t hold it in him and press Y/N against the door frame.

Heeseung chuckled into the empty room as he reminisced about how Y/N straightening out ties and clasping suit-jacket buttons for a movie premiere was only a distant, barely attainable fantasy; one that Heeseung would sing into his skin was just a few skips away as he’s being Y/N into his lap and stroke his hair back to get a better look a those brilliant, shimmering eyes - eyes that would be the death of him if Y/N’s presence didn’t remind him of how hard his heart beat for him. Y/N was driving out to auditions scattered everywhere in town, sometimes even having Heeseung beg some of his favourite managers to give Y/N a ride to an audition or two. He was that indie movie sensation whose talent was wrapped up in boxes of cliches and below-average budgets.

Now Y/N was dipping into the waters of a life he never thought would actually become a possibility, despite how badly he wanted to have a career like this, and despite how Heeseung would always text him and chant to him his worthiness and receive his midnight calls of how doubtful he was of driving down such a clustered, yet directionless road of acting. Here Y/N was, trending on on every social media platform Heeseung hasn’t deleted out of sheer necessity yet, framing headlines of articles with shots of him from his recent movies - pictures that Heeseung would shove in Y/N’s face and scream at how hot he looked in all of them. Heeseung couldn’t be prouder…

Which is why, with absolutely no remorse whatsoever at two in the morning, Heeseung called frantically for all the rest of ENHYPEN to meet him in the living room to watch Y/N’s movie the moment it releases on streaming platforms. They finally began to file in after what felt like, too Heeseung, ages of waiting; they trailed each other, lethargic, whining, weighed down by the prospect of even less sleep. Sunghoon sat down next to him, practically deflating into the seat - it looked as if he was looking through everything, his head in a daze - Jungwon sat on the arm, Ni-ki swung himself over the back of the seat to steal a spot from Jay, and the rest sat on the floor.

“Heeseung, it’s so late…” Jake rubbed at his eyes as me managed to make room between Heeseung and Sunghoon to snag a makeshift spot on the couch, Sunoo looked up at him enviously from his reluctant spot on the floor, leaned up against the space between Sunghoon’s legs as they spayed out carelessly. “The thing you want to show us better be important or I will riot-”

“Relax,” Heeseung scrambled for the remote to turn the television on, but Jungwon defiantly swiped it away. “Hey!”

“Not until you tell us why we’re here. Your message to the group chat was ominous as fuck.” Jungwon lifted an eyebrow before narrowing his eyes in growing suspicion as Heeseung helplessly fumbled for his words. Everyone else began to shift their gazes toward him as well, some of them too tired to maintain any alertness or intensity, and some of them too tired to even know where they were.

Heeseung was able to keep his relationship with Y/N, and Y/N himself, a secret from the other members for a total of ten hours before they were caught making out in a practice room that Heeseung ‘swore’ was never ever used for as long as he was a trainee. After an hour or so of shocked shouting, screaming about being ‘scarred for life’, exclamations of how Heeseung could’ve gotten a dude that hot, and interrogation-level icebreaker questions, Y/N was integrated into the group’s dynamic pretty seamlessly. Now, Heeseung would catch Y/N and Jay’s conversations about pessimistic philosophy and what ‘pants’ is plural for, Y/N letting Sunoo and Ni-ki win at Mario Kart - despite the ways he mercilessly beat Heeseung whenever he got the chance… Heeseung supposed that it was a pretty clever excuse to get Heeseung on top of him after he’d tackle Y/N out of sheer fury and pin Y/N by his wrists to the floor, and Heeseung, for a fact, didn’t mind it one bit as he’d kiss Y/N until the loop of the credits music would send their heads into a tailspin.

However, now that Y/N became such a natural part of Heeseung’s life, an undercurrent in his heartbeat, the flush in his skin he’ll never want to let fade for the world, Heeseung would now become a victim to all the teasing and prodding that ENHYPEN could muster. He now has a target on his back, curving on his spine where Y/N would draw little shapes with the moonlight under their fingertips - sitting like a fish in a barrel and simply waiting for anything and everything.

Now that Y/N was filed into evidence, Heeseung hasn’t seen the light of day.

“Hello, earth to Heeseung!” Jungwon waved the remote control to get Heeseung's attention back on him. “You still haven’t told us why we’re on the couch in front of a TV in the middle of the night.”

“Okay fine-”

“Is it because of Y/N’s movie?” Jay slouched back into the seat and took in Heeseung’s shocked expression with a tired smile. “What? It’s not that big of a secret since hype for Y/N’s been circulating literally all over the internet.”

“Way to ruin the surprise!” Heeseung looked around frantically at the rest of their members, their knowing looks and little merging smirks as they finally realised why they were called here so late in the night. With a deflated sigh and snatching the remote control back from Jungwon to turn on the television, Heeseung folded his arms with a pout and shrugged off a condescending pat to the shoulder from Sunghoon. “I wanted to do some climactic reveal, but I guess not…”

“Dude, I think you’re the only one who forgets how famous Y/N is. He’s all over the internet, and we’ve already been avoiding spoilers for the movie.” Sunghoon leaned back into the couch and took the remote from Heeseung who still sat frozen and frowning, switching over to the streaming platform they bought exclusively to watch Y/N’s movies at their leisure - none of the other shows on there interested them.

Heeseung nodded along to Sunghoon, as he’s been avoiding the internet altogether to make sure that every detail about Y/N’s movie, including who Y/N was playing and when the movie would release - even what the movie was about - came from Y/N himself. However, despite all his efforts to get this information, he’s been left with emptier hands than he thought. Y/N let nothing slip, not even names of characters or settings, or the slightest note of what was supposed to happen - Y/N kept the tightest grip on all of it.

Heeseung was so caught up in supporting Y/N getting into yet another movie that he barely noticed how Y/N was doing his absolute best to hide everything until it was too late. Who Y/N was playing? For how long he’d be in the movie? Whether he was going to be a lone survivor or the first victim killed off in the first ten minutes? All of that was as much a mystery to Heeseung as it was to all the rest of ENHYPEN as they lingered on the selection screen, their controller’s cursor hovering over the thumbnail image of Y/N’s movie - Heeseung bit his lip and buried a hum under his tongue as he saw how beautiful Y/N looked in that coral light, whether it was a flashlight or even from a horrific fire, he didn’t care; Y/N looked gorgeous. He always did when the orange flush of the sunset spilled against Y/N’s skin, making him shimmer in a way that was almost supernatural.

On walks down the beach with their shoes dangling in their free hands as Heeseung kissed one of Y/N’s, free days sleeping half the day away until the sun set on them, evenings drinking out on glass balconies when they really weren’t supposed to until the coolers they bit back made Heeseung want to do nothing but pull Y/N in and kiss him until they would grow dizzy on something other than the alcohol - that colour followed them in all their most beautiful, cherished moments.

“So, do you know anything? Any insider tea from one of the starring actors? One who may or may not be your boyfriend?” Jake looked over to Heeseung, narrowing his eyes as if that could do anything to bring the answer out of Heeseung any faster.

“No…” Heeseung curled in on himself as everyone’s irritated sighs whipped up around the room, sneering at everyone with a scrunch of his nose in an attempt to feebly defend himself from everyone’s scrutiny. “He left me in the dark too! I’m on your side!”

“There’s no way Y/N didn’t tell you at least something…” Ni-ki eyed Heeseung. “You know a lot more than you’re letting on.”

Heeseung groaned and leaned his head back. He wished he did know more than he was letting on, if that was the case, then at least he could feel triumphant over his members in some way - leave them guessing, have this panicked suspicion and frantic fear lingering over them like the way Sunghoon’s massive collections of perfumes did when he had that phase of constantly needing to smell like something ‘different’ and ‘quirky’. He couldn’t do anything, though, he couldn’t dangle anything over their heads as he rested back on the couch, with more pride than he knew what to do with.

Peeling answers from Y/N’s lips and tongue was absolutely impossible, no matter how long he left his kisses to linger in the way he knew Y/N loved best. Despite all the shirtless back hugs Heeseung gave Y/N in the morning, pressing into Y/N and kissing his neck until they almost fall into their plates of eggs, Y/N shook his head indifferently and explained nothing about the role he was playing, a role that gossip blogs called a ‘mould-breaking, career-defining role’. Even the lapdances Heeseung would give Y/N in the pale spotlights of empty practice rooms couldn’t get Heeseung a hint; none of the tricks that always left Y/N flushed, hanging from Heeseung’s lips, flipping them over whenever Heeseung thought that he had Y/N under his hands, and kissing him harder worked in the slightest.

“You know what? It might be better if we don’t know anything. Knowing how everything happens would spoil all the suspense, duh.”

“Ah yes, because you totally don’t know anything…” Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, taking so much pleasure in the frustration on Heeseung’s face - it was palpable to a point Ni-ki could see it with nothing but the television’s light.

“I don’t! Let’s just watch the movie!” Heeseung finally selected Y/N’s movie and sat back on the couch, a smile slowly pulling at his lips as he set the remote down and pulled the pillow on his lap closer to him. Nothing could replace the way Y/N’s waist fit perfectly in his arms, though, and if he focused hard enough on how happy he was to see Y/N on his screen, then the pillow still smelled faintly like him from when they spent all night down in the living room throwing their sleep schedules away, Y/N’s cologne drowning Heeseung in a way that made him never want to breach the surface ever again.

“I still can’t believe we’re watching Y/N’s movie at three in the morning-”

Jay was cut off by a collective ‘shush’-ing from the rest of ENHYPEN, Heeseung leaning over to smack him with the pillow.

“I’m just saying, you’re a new breed of whipped-”

Jay was cut off yet again with a chorus of ‘shush’-es as the movie finally moved on from the smattering of studio logos, yet he wasn’t able to see the first scene as Heeseung threw his pillow straight at Jay’s face. “I’ll be as whipped as I want to be.”

“Watch him be the killer-”

Jay missed the second scene as an entire couch cushion was ripped off its base and hurled right toward him.

The movie came to a close, the credits slid off the screen, all the sound drowned out of the room and only the faint morsels of silence were left, the colour seemed to seep from the walls and whatever was at the end of ENHYPEN’s fingertips, and the moon suddenly felt as if it was shorting out, acting upon a broken twilight fuse. It was as if the room was frozen, along with everyone inside it as they stared at the idling television screen with mouths wrenched agape, petrified, horrified, nearly awe-stricken, they found themselves contorted and still mid-shock at what happened on the screen only a half-hour before.

“I was not ready. Not. Ready.” Heeseung felt words leak emptily from him as he hugged his pillow closer, struggling to feel any sense of ease from the fading smell of Y/N’s cologne that clung to it. Everyone just nodded, barely able to move their tensed muscles, their features twisted in fear - they really weren’t prepared for the latter end of that film. The mould was indeed broken, and as soon as ENHYPEN were secure in thinking that the film’s script was piecing it back together, it was thrown away yet again, scattered in shattered moonlight.

Just like Jay half-heartedly said, Y/N was dramatically revealed as the twist-villain; the loveable nerd turned deranged psychopath who, throughout the whole movie, was manipulating evidence, information and alibis in order to quietly shift suspicious and increase tensions before blowing over and devolving into a tactless, mania-induced killing-spree of most of the cast.

There was a scene where Y/N delivered a frenzied, deranged speech in the middle of a flaming corn maze at the climax of the movie. It was intense, passionate, frightening, haunting, and filled with such a poetic tragedy that made his inevitable death both satisfying and necessary yet sad. It left all of HYPHEN yelping, screeching, gasping until they had no air left in the room or space left to flood with their tangled mess.

Heeseung felt himself gravitating to the way Y/N helf the fire’s light in his eyes, or the way his voice always seemed to curve upwards as if smiling on its own. A twisted, manic smile, but a smile nonetheless. He felt himself both incredibly scared, and incredibly turned on by the end; and no, Heeseung didn’t necessarily want to assess the moral standpoint of that. The outfits they always put Y/N in made him looks so casual yet calculating: polo-shirt collars with faint flecks of blood, baggy jeans that still somehow did Y/N’s butt justice and dirty white sneakers that always show that Y/N’s been somewhere, yet everybody is too paranoid about characters other than him to look down and catch the faint traces of where Y/N scrubbed away dirt from the forest he hid the last body in.

All Heeseung knew was that in some arbitrary fashion, he was falling in love with Y/N all over again - that mischievous glint in Y/N’s eyes, the same one he’d shine for Heeseung whenever he’d smirk over him; the grace of his presence and the conviction he carried in every step he took - all the things that sent Heeseung reeling the first time they crossed paths and made half-assed plans to meet in deserted coffee shops on the edges of the city.

Heeseung didn’t realize how odd his blooming smile toward the screen, toward that thumbnail image of Y/N with amber firelight spilled all over him - an image that took on a new, horrifying and gruesome meaning now that they’ve finished watching it - was until Sunghoon finally thawed out of his petrified state and smacked Heeseung on the shoulder with a disgusted frown.

“How are you smiling right now?” Sunghoon stole a glance at one of the larger images that overtook the screen now, a short and silent clip of Y/N on repeat. He did admit that he looked handsome, and he knew how head-over-heels Heeseung always gets for Y/N, but this was a borderline traumatic event that just occurred and Sunghoon could barely contain his confusion with his senses all rattled. “Y/N just killed almost everyone… Like… He didn’t just kill them, he like viciously-”

“I know, thank you for that lovely description, Sunghoon.” It was always like this now whenever Y/N left, whether it was for a cute and wholesome young-adult rom-com, filmings of that now-acclaimed BL drama Y/N received so much love for, or a slasher film that left Heeseung curling in on himself. At times like this when Y/N’s movies and shows were over, Heeseung never missed Y/N more, never wanted to feeling Y/N next to him, under him, on top of him - whatever way Heeseung could get Y/N close to him the quickest. He wanted to pull Y/N close until their stars collided yet again, kiss everywhere he could and just tell Y/N how proud he was of him. “Yes, Y/N killed everyone, and what about it? I can’t help it if the killer has a face like that!”

Heeseung let his chin rest on his propped-up palm and stared out to see Y/N’s beautiful, blood-splattered face underlit by those raging amber flames of the withering cornfields around him.

“He’s my murderous psychopath and nobody else’s.”

“You’re insane…” Jake said, finally taking a breath after holding it all in and feeling it dissipate the moment he found out that Y/N was behind every shifting cog and drop of spilled blood in that movie. “I can’t believe we sat through two hours of that just for Y/N to be the villain. I thought he was gonna be the hero or something - they sure as hell did a good job convincing us!” Jake remembered how benevolent and smart Y/N seemed to look in the first half-hour of the movie, all of ENHYPEN were rooting for him. But something seemed off as they made it further into the movie, and that little itch of suspicion was satisfied in the worst way as Y/N was revealed as the one with twisted motives and an even more twisted mind.

“How could they do that to us!?” Jungwon knew everything was over the moment Y/N crushed his glasses beneath blood-stained sneakers, the dismemberment of his kind facade. He almost wanted to anticipate something, until he realized that the thing he would be anticipating for was ruthless, bloody murder.

“All I know is that I’m utterly in love right now.” Heeseung understood the peculiarity in everything he was saying, and as he smiled wistfully at the television, he could feel the weight of everyone’s annoyed glares on him. Y/N ended up being the murderer, sure; however, Heeseung couldn’t help but find the poetry in Y/N every single time he was shown on screen. Every single second he lingered on screen, even in the corner of the frame as other characters were talking, Y/N was so captivating, held even on his edges qualities of himself that Heeseung fell for the first time and continues to fall for with each time Y/N comes striding into his thoughts.

“Did we watch the same movie…?” Jay looked over with furrowed brows.

“You need serious help… Like seriously, Heeseung.” Sunoo rolled his eyes as he looked back to still see that dumb, lovestruck sweetness laced into Heeseung’s features, even when they were carved out by nothing but the faint light of the television screen. “You HAD to know about this! Did you set us up knowing that your innocent little boyfriend was gonna be some deranged killer!?”

“NO! How dare you! I told you already, he wouldn’t tell me anything.” Heeseung snapped up and out of his trance, a furious pout on his face that he knew the rest of ENHYPEN would never take seriously. “And I tried very hard-”

“Heeseung!” Sunghoon piped up; everyone was slowly freeing themselves from their petrified states. He scrambled to shield the younger members closest to him, clumsily clasping his hands over Sunoo’s eyes. Sunoo brought Sunghoon’s hands down with a frown, flapping his hands petulantly in the air. “There are children present!”

“They don’t know what that means.”

Heeseung shooed Sunghoon’s concerns with a dismissive wave and an eye-roll, and now all he could think about was how hard he actually tired, and how badly he needed Y/N in his arms. He wanted Y/N to come through that door in his suit jacket and collar and tie that made him look so irresistible gorgeous, shove everyone out of the room and ‘try’ even harder on the couch that’s been their sanctuary more than once - naps between Heeseung’s schedules, cuddle sessions after long, rough nights, or meeting with a kiss on the couch cushions before heading out to make the most of the fringes of the evening sunset.

Heeseung was brought out of his trance once more, however, as he heard Ni-ki begin to speak, glance up toward the ceiling coyly, and press a finger to his chin in this mockingly inquisitive way. “I think I have an idea-”

“Anyway!” Jay shut Ni-ki up real quick before he could get any ideas. He turned back to Heeseung, who was still fidgeting with the pillow in his arms and taking in the dregs of Y/N’s smell - a warm, comforting, intoxicatingly fresh smell; as if the sunset’s haze that got them high every time they made it to their secluded batch of hills at the unseen heart of town was somehow embodied by a man that’d teach Heeseung was true love was supposed to be. “Are you actually gonna watch all his interviews, Heeseung?”

How can Heeseung do all this blissful reminiscing after just witnessing Y/N gruesomely kill a majority of the main cast and watching him come to his own poetic, yet grim death? His unwavering, steadfast love for Y/N worked in mysterious ways, and he knew to just roll with every wave Y/N brought in to caress beneath his surface. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“Fair point.” Jay stood up, and the rest of ENHYPEN began to make their ways off the couch as well, some surprisingly still reeling after seeing Y/N in a whole new light, and others just wanting to go back to bed as they were both incredibly tired from Heeseung forcing them awake, and impressed enough - as well as like Y/N enough - that they’ll tell Y/N all about how great he did in the morning when they catch him in Heeseung’s bed yet again. “I’m guessing he’s coming here after the premiere, so let him know that we really enjoyed the movie.”

“I’ll send your compliments to my murderous psychopath of a boyfriend.” Heeseung waved giddily to his members as they began to file out of the room, some wanting to stay up to say ‘hi’ to Y/N but getting steered back to their room by Sunghoon who assumed his sleep-laden daze.

Y/N was supposed to be back any minute now, and Heeseung was going to watch a couple of Y/N’s interviews - watch him shining in the camera light and glow of his well-deserved praise - to pass the time before he could have the real Y/N, the holdable and kissable Y/N, back in his arms and stripped of the outfit he helped but on Y/N in the first place.

“Good night…”

Jay scoffed and retorted. “It’s actually the morning, Heeseung. You brought us here at three in the fucking-a-m.”

“Oh just shut up and go to bed.”

Y/N opened the door to ENHYPEN’s dorm cautiously and silently, using the spare key that the secretary at the front desk keeps for him just in case of late nights like these. Usually Y/N is by Heeseung’s side nearly all the time, but not weeks like these where Y/N’s schedule is almost as filled to the brim as Heeseung’s during his own promotions, Heeseung always sneaks a spare key downstairs and gives it to the front desk just in case Heeseung isn’t there to let Y/N in seconds before he knocks and smothers him in affections right then and there.

At this point, it was probably close to six in the morning, and Y/N’s driver just dropped him off at a half-way point between the red carpet where his interviews took place and ENHYPEN’s dorm room. Y/N took the long way around some buildings and met a couple of ENHYPEN’s security guards in order to bring him to where he was now; and because of not just that, but also the six hours of one of the best and most momentous nights of his life, Y/N just wanted to kick off his platform oxfords that Heeseung remarked once - in a totally-not-creepy way, made Y/N’s ankles look hot - and curl up into the nearest corner to go to sleep.

Halfway through slipping off his shoes and making his way further into the dorm, he cocked his head and puckered his lips in confusion as a faint voice began to rise above the late night’s haze, and the light of ENHYPEN’s television maintained this dim, flickering bloom in the general direction of the living room. The voice sounded a lot like his, and because he just played a role in a horror slasher movie and believed in irony, began to walk slowly and carefully toward the ominously familiar noise.

Turning the corner of the doorway, Y/N’s stiff expression and the breath held in him in anticipation as he neared the television’s light all melted away, loosed and untangled and unwound around whatever unease could’ve piled up in him as he found Heeseung sound asleep on the couch, wrapped up in one of Y/N’s hoodies and the pair of joggers they basically co-own at this point - Y/N’s putting a down payment on them soon. Y/N couldn’t help but let a fond smile flourish on his face and instantly made his way closer, glancing over to the television screen to see a video of one of Y/N’s interviews being recapped by a pop-culture and media channel on Youtube. The television remote was just out of Heeseung’s reach on the ground, and the volume was low yet still loud enough for Heeseung to indulge in Y/N’s voice, the voice he misses so much no matter how long they’re apart, until Y/N’s back in his arms.

Heeseung looked so beautiful, so peaceful, as he was only taking up half of the couch in his curled-up form, bunching hismelf up in Y/N’s hoodie. Y/N almost didn’t want to wake him up, but he knew that if he did anything but announce his presence to someone who’s been waiting for him all night, he’d probably need to prepare for a boss-level fight with him in the morning. So, Y/N tried to figure out the gentlest way to stir Heeseung out of his sleep, yet stills staying true to all the ways he’s woken up Heeseung before - in thirty-minute nap sessions in the practice room, Heeseung spooning Y/N in the car on the way to music shows, early mornings where they both needed to be out of the dorms before sunrise.

“Hey, Seungie…” Y/N let his hand wander across Heeseung’s edges, the parts of him that the moonlight danced gracefully across and the little curves that no light could quite properly catch. He took Heeseung’s hand in his own, and the moment he leaned into kiss Heeseung’s fingertips, they began to curl around his own in a reflex that always managed to shock him.

“Y/N…” Heeseung murmured in his half sleep, navigating whoever woke him up simply by touch, the way skin ran under him, the way such a familiar warmth wound around him like a sunset’s embrace of light.

“Wow, I think that’s a new record. You’ve never woken up this quickly…”

“Well I was waiting for you, so of course sleeping wasn’t really on the menu tonight.” Heeseung began to sit up, and at the same time, immediately grabbed Y/N by the shirt collar and pulled him as close as he could, meeting Y/N’s smile halfway in a messy kiss that tasted like the ours long after midnight - a brief sweetness, a cool breath of honey that made Heeseung’s lips part like the clouds at daybreak for Y/N’s tongue to ease between. He peeled Y/N’s suit jacket off his shoulders, and even in his half-conscious daze, snapped open a couple of Y/N’s buttons; he stopped at the third and just took Y/N into a long, warm hug.

This must be what it feels like whenever Heeseung leaves him here with nothing but a wardrobe of clothes that smell like him and free reign over ENHYPEN’s leftovers whenever he’s out on his own schedules. That longing, filling Y/N into any spare gaps he can and clinging onto any sense of Y/N that wasn’t right there in front of him. Heeseung might as well start paying Y/N back now for all those days he left him until diving into his arms at the last minute, and today - only taking Y/N in the smallest, most inhumanely sparse doses through the television, was more than a decent way to start.

“I missed you so much, Y/N… Like seriously, I have no idea how I’m supposed to do those for all the A-list movie roles you’re gonna get after this one…” Heeseung’s voice felt shattered, barely along the lines of a snarky whisper as Heeseung let his hands plunge beneath the hemline of Y/N’s shirt, and felt Y/N’s hands doing the exact same thing, taking hold of his waist as if his clothes weren’t even there.

“The same thing I do whenever you release a song and show the world your immeasurable talent.” Y/N didn’t know how Heeseung, sleep-paden and eyes lidded in a drowsy daze, could still manage to unhook Y/N’s belt and leave it on the floor in seconds in the faintly lit living room, but then again there are simply things that Heeseung has down to a science at this point - a second nature.

Closing the door and finding empty practice rooms obviously aren’t part of those sciences, but apparently memorising every inch of Y/N’s skin, seamlessly loosening Y/N’s clothes so he can let his hands wander as far as he knows Y/N wants him to, and always finding a way to hold Y/N as if he were the only light in the sky were.

With a breath that Heeseung immediately stole away between his lips as he brought Y/N in to kiss him once more, Y/N sung his words into Heeseung’s mouth. Heeseung kept Y/N exactly where he was with a hand tied up in his hair and another slipping through the belt holes of his suit pants. “I love you when you’re here, and I love you when you’re gone. Then, when you get home I pretty much have an excuse to keep you all to myself - so you leaving has its perks sometimes.” Y/N raised a coy eyebrow, only to have the shine of his smirk cut short with another kiss from Heeseung.

“You probably say that to all your murder victims~”

Heeseung hummed out as Y/N shifted the weight of his hips against Heeseung’s, his hands rising to hold Heeseung down by his shoulders and get a better view of the way Heeseung shone in his half-sleeping glow. His eyes shimmered with the evening sunset still held in them, a faint flush on his cheeks staining his skin as if they were always caught in that moment before their worlds always collide - Y/N always managing to find his way on top, holding Heeseung down as if Heeseung hadn’t just let him win whatever tussle they initiated, smiles plastered on their lips that always end up getting blurred and lost to the night whenever Heeseung gets to close.

Time always stopped at the perfect moments, when each of them looked too magnetic for them to conceive, and all they wanted to do was to have more and more of each other until they were burnt out stars huddling for warmth on the living room couch, being woken up either gently by Sunghoon, or by a rough scoff by Jay and Jungwon taking a few pictures to blackmail Heeseung later.

“You got me there, but they’re dead so I guess they can’t testify to that.” Y/N chuckled, feeling Heeseung’s fingers delicately trace his waistline. “Wait, you watched the movie, didn’t it release at like two in the morning? I mean I gathered that from the-”

“What do you mean ‘the’ movie!? YES! I watched YOUR MOVIE, bitch! I would be the shittiest boyfriend on the planet if I watched it a minute later.” If Y/N wasn’t still holding him down - and if Heeseung didn’t love the feeling of being held down so much - Heeseung would’ve surged up, grabbed Y/N by his face and shook him violently for assuming so poorly of him. Y/N shot him a sheepish look with a pout, and began to move his hands off Heeseung, Heeseung caught Y/N’s wrists, though, and kept him where he was. “Don’t give me that look, you always stream my songs the moment they release and stay up until like four streaming them. You’re my biggest supporter, so of course I’m yours.”

“I know-”

“I’ve done this for all your movies, and I’ll keep doing them for all your movies if I get to have your four-a-m kisses.” Even in their weird interlocking position on the couch, Heeseung - with a firm grip still on Y/N’s wrists - brought Y/N’s arms around him so Y/N could rest his face right in the curve of Heeseung’s neck. He felt Y/N’s quickening breath slowly die down to a peaceful rhythm, and suddenly realised how exhausted Y/N must be - Heeseung wasn’t done flirting yet, though, so Y/N will have to stay conscious for a little bit longer. “So, I’m guessing this is where you kill me?”

Y/N thought about one of his favourite scenes - and in a few hours when they and the rest of ENHYPEN are conscious enough to gush about Y/N’s movie, Y/N will find out that it’s their favourite too - that almost everyone on set that day was so impressed by. That scene in the middle of the flaming cornfield where he killed almost half of the lead cast before meeting his own death. With a grin, Y/N sang softly into Heeseung’s ear, “I mean, I’d usually prefer a faulty revolver in the middle of a blazing cornfield, but I think I can work around it.”

“That plot twist was fucking evil, by the way. I knew something was up when you never told me who you were playing… Even after my lap-dances. Those always get you talking.” Heeseung said with a chuckle, that was only made louder as Y/N leaned up and jabbed Heeseung in the side.

“It took so much willpower not to tell you then and there, you should be proud of me.” Those lap-dances that Heeseung would always come in with as soon as he’s free from his practices would always happen whenever Y/N was dumb enough to wait in an empty practice room like Heeseung tells him to. Heeseung would always be sweaty as hell and careen toward Y/N with no remorse and a sly bitten lip as Y/N would just yelp for a saviour of any kind through a shy smile. It would always end with Heeseung pulling Y/N on top of him, holding him by his hips as they talked the rest of the afternoon away just like that.

It took a little bit of thinking, and way too much planning for Heeseung’s brain to handle at an hour as late as this, Heeseung lifted his hips and flipped them over. Y/N could barely let out a gasp as Heeseung held himself a hair’s breadth away from Y/N’s face and held him down to the couch by interlocked hands. “I’m very proud of you, Y/N… Not just for surviving my lap-dances, which is a feat all in itself ‘cause I think I’m pretty irresistibly sexy-”

“Here we go-”

“No, I’m sorry!” Heeseung’s chuckle was nearly as bright as the sun that threatened to rise on them. “But I’m proud of you for everything you’ve done so far, and for all the hard work you do. Your performance in that movie was amazing - fuck it, you’re amazing - and I couldn’t be any prouder to be madly in love with a pretend-murderous psychopath.”

They don't get like this often. Either they were too busy trying to find ways to fill in the miniscule gaps in their free time with noise and brightness, or they simply were in different orbits for a bit until meeting halfway in Heeseung’s sheets. Moments of raw, sweet, suffocating sincerity like this were uncommon occurrences for them, but with the way they always made both of them feel, they want to have countless more - or at least make excuses to get all sentimental and grounded in front of each other.

“I love you, Seungie… Your support means everything to me.”

“I love you more, and I’ll never stop supporting you.” Heeseung leaned in and kissed Y/N right on the tip of his nose, a place he always loved to kiss whenever he wanted to listen to the sweet melody of Y/N’s radiant, airy giggles. “Can we go to bed now? I wish to spoon my pretend-murderous psychopath.”

“But I’m so comfortable here… Let’s just fork-and-knife it here, I really don’t wanna move…”

Y/N’s pout got Heeseung every single time - his kryptonite, his achilles’ heel, whatever weakness metaphor you want to use. It always gets Heeseung melting, bending to Y/N’s wind more than he already does. Heeseung shifted over and Y/N’s legs between his, then curling around Y/N’s side to nestle himself into Y/N’s neck - this is the position they liked to call fork-and-knife, the position they always ended up in because spooning just wasn’t doing it for them anymore. Heeseung felt closer, somehow, as if he was protecting all of Y/N with all of him.

“Fine… You win… How the hell do you always win?”

“I think that’s how nature wishes to take its course, and it feels very correct.” Y/N turned his head to nudge Heeseung’s nose with his own. Heeseung nudged him back, pressed Y/N down with his cheek and began to kiss down his neck - leaving little stars to bloom when dawn sprung on them in about two hours.

Heeseung’s honestly surprised that Y/N hasn’t used his pout to his advantage more often. Maybe he sees the magnitude, the sheer power he carries.

But Heeseung also knows that no matter how much they show their love to each other, they’ll both never be able to truly grasp how deep their love runs in them. It was a feeling that nights of endless inspiration could never put into words on a page or colours on a canvas. It was an unidentifiable thing, and indefinable feeling that just ambled about in them carelessly - unaware of the sheer weight of its existence.

And they were more than fine with it being that way. As long as they had their endless nights, their four-in-the-morning kisses, their slow mornings on one hour of sleep, and the way they felt so complete with each other. Even if Y/N was a little too good at playing a murderous psychopath, Heeseung couldn’t imagine falling helplessly - and staying unconditionally - in love with anybody else.

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

shine; han jisung

(10,510 words) - large

summary ➣ Y/N and Jisung, mutual admirers turned project partners, meet at a dramatic impasse when Y/N’s admiration and yearning to prove himself conflicts with Jisung’s inner frustrations and struggles. When they meet each other again half a year later, all of the emotions they held back rise to the surface, for better or for worse.

genre ➣ fluff ( + angst )

requested - 👍

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Y/N shifted in his new seat as his English teacher rearranged the class’ seating positions for their upcoming group project, everyone pushed back or moved up or plucked away from that blessed window seat to be put next to their partners or group members. An entanglement of mixed feelings spanned across the room and tripped up the terse silence between all the students, some pairings and groups being made of friends and people they know they can get an easy A with, and others reluctant, mere victims of circumstance stitched together by poor strikes of chance. Conversation was sparse, ideas and attempts to work gained wings for only a moment before landing in a heap in the middle of the room.

Y/N and his single partner for the project, Han Jisung, were somewhere in the middle, straddling that line between feeling glad to not be with anyone else and already building up contempt for not getting paired up with the few people they knew in class. They knew each other in a peripheral sense, never by interactions but just by what others told them about each other in wandering conversation - the most they really knew about each other was their names and that was it.

Despite how little they knew of each other, though, there was this gravity Jisung held in his hands that Y/N felt himself slipping into each time he let his haphazard gaze wander over to Jisung. Sometimes their shoes would bump together and they would straighten up in their seats with a start, bringing their feet back only to have it happen over and over again. Y/N and Jisung existed on two different planes within the school’s little, embarrassingly condensed universe, yet with the few instances Y/N found himself staring, getting lost in Jisung’s pure magnetism left him considering all he caught of Jisung so far.

Jisung was so careless and effortless, yet composed in a way that didn’t really make sense to Y/N given how unhinged Jisung gets across the cafeteria at lunch. Y/N heard rumours passed throughout hallways and from back rows of classrooms that Jisung was training to become an idol under JYP, and Y/N instantly felt this unknown impulse, a nameless attraction, pull him closer to Jisung in ways he didn’t notice until their awkwardly, wordlessly colliding gazes would linger and make Y/N think about how long he’s truly admired Jisung from afar.

Y/N has always wanted to commit to a life of performing, singing and dancing for as long as he could remember. And hearing about Jisung’s hard work - burning circles into dance classroom floors, reducing his spare hours to ash as he’s always hop straight from one project to the next, dedicating so much to creating songs, spilling lyrics over pages that nobody would see but him - it inspired Y/N to do the same.

Now that he was face to face with Jisung, brought together by an English project of all things, all these thoughts and feelings and half-baked aspirations Y/N’s been close to casting away began to bubble up in Y/N, and he felt this overwhelming need to be seen, too.

“Hi…” Y/N finally managed to say, holding up his hand in a rigid, clumsy wave. He noticed it a little too late and brought his hand back down, only to have his knuckles knock against the edge of the desk. His wince of embarrassment soon loosened into a smile as Jisung chuckled stiffly, mimicking Y/N’s greeting with a friendly grin of his own.

“Hi.” Jisung’s voice was light, weightless, and carried itself above the cluttered noise of the classroom, yet enough to leave an impression on Y/N. It was exactly how Y/N heard it in shrieks across lunchroom tables, yet it held this intimacy in it as if they’ve known each other for years. They have to a certain extent, they’ve known of each other in an abstract way that was barely enough to hold onto, yet it was knowledge nevertheless. “I guess we should get started on this project, huh?”

“I mean, I guess.” Y/N shrugged with a chuckle that attempted to heave this palpable awkwardness from off their shoulders. In some moments, it was there, glaring right back at them like an irritating trick of the afternoon sunlight, and in other moments it wasn’t - like whenever Y/N caught Jisung’s stare wandering across him from the corner of his eye. There was a tension that seemed as if anybody could barrel through but them, but that was to be expected when Y/N’s finally placed in front of he’s thought of in nothing but scraps, stolen glances, and small doses on the frayed edges of an already hectic school life. “We could head to the library after class? Maybe the books around us could make us feel smarter.”

“An impressive technique, for sure.” Jisung felt his smiles loosening around the corners, brightening in a natural way that relieved him. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Jisung wanted to know him too, to see more than the loose fit of his school uniform and the back of his head in classes or hallways. There was this intrigue about Y/N that left Jisung’s eyes always finding Y/N’s figure in a crowd, wanting to take that step closer. Maybe it was the shimmer in his eyes whenever Jisung could catch them looking elsewhere from across the cafeteria; possibly the song of Y/N’s voice whenever he’d answer a question. Jisung didn’t know, but he found himself taking the slightest hints of comfort out of the staleness in the air between them. “I should use that sometime.”

“I’m telling you, ambience is everything.” Y/N felt a knot in his chest, a hesitance in his tightened posture against the seat, slowly unravelling.

“Let’s go then,” Jisung was barely able to stop himself from taking Y/N by the hand he hit against the table and dragging him out of the classroom that second. It was the way Y/N’s voice lilted so sweetly, the way his eyes lit up as if a sense of caution snapped and set him free. A breath of relief washed over them and they felt their shoes touch beneath the table, but they didn’t move them. “How about I give you my number, just in case the flood of seniors leaves us stranded?”

They both shuddered at the mere thought of their last period’s bell that left them in this fight for survival against waves of senior students. Almost every day, they were swept up by a current of all the upper class-people - pressed linen, plaid blazers, and a rush of final-year-of-school-induced cynicism leaving Y/N sometimes on the other side of their school’s campus if he fought too hard or not enough against them. They thought a little more about the glances they tried to steal at each other at the end of their English classes before they were separated; how often they really tried to find each other for one last, split second.

Y/N tried not to fumble too much with his phone as he handed it over to Jisung to punch his number in, and couldn’t help but let a little smile peak through his bitten lips as he realized that he went from admiring Jisung from afar to having his number locked into his phone in a blink of an eye, a flicker of sunlight, and a nod from their English teacher. “That sounds perfect, because I know for a fact that I’ll end up anywhere but at the library.” Jisung handed Y/N’s phone back with a knowing chuckle, their fingertips brushing only slightly. From the faint touch between them, Jisung already felt his smile growing at the delicate warmth of Y/N’s hands.

“It’s honestly best not to fight it,” Jisung chuckled, steepling his fingers under his chin and propping his elbows up on the desk all in an effort to hold himself back from finding another excuse to feel Y/N’s fingertips against his. He didn’t quite understand how quickly they managed to leap across the stages of their conversation, from being stuck in a motionless reluctance to the movement of ease that manifested between them. Yet, he was thankful for it, as somehow all those miniscule hopes of being able to know Y/N in more than flashes in classrooms were met and exceeded by how haphazardly charming he was. Y/N was everything Jisung expected and more.

“Oh, trust me, I know that resistance is futile.” Y/N held up his hands and rolled his eyes with a smile when he heard another one of Jisung’s chuckles - an affirmation that he wasn’t completely fumbling with his words.

“We are but specks in the vast emptiness of space.” Jisung assumed this mockingly cynical tone, and they felt their laughter beat even harder at those around them that seemed to catch all their words, actions, ideas, feelings, thoughts. Not even ten minutes into meeting each other and they were already finding ways to get lost in their own world, dismiss everything else around them.

“I mean yeah, but I’m also a speck with Han Jisung’s number in my phone.” Y/N tripped over his words only slightly, and offered a smile to hide the thought and weight behind his words. He saw Jisung’s expression soften and almost let out a sigh of relief, continuing with an unabashed, careless sweetness in his voice. “So… I’ll take the little victories.”

“And I’m gonna have the one and only Y/N texting me that he’s lost; so I’ll take the wins as they come, too.” That borderline flirty tone emerged and drowned out Jisung’s voice too. His eyes took on this glimmer of happiness and his eyebrow coyly arched as he nodded cooly to the phone Y/N still held in his nearly trembling hand.

The silence between them shifted into something so much more manageable, and they welcomed the cool breath of the pale overhead lighting inching its way between their sheepish, bitten-lipped smiles and their lingering gazes that wandered across each other near-shamelessly now. Both he and Jisung were trapped in this trance, fallen deeply into the unexplored coasts of each other and willing to stand in those soothing, gently rippling waters forever; however, they were wrenched out of this blissful trance rather unceremoniously by the shrill cry of the school bell. Jisung could almost hear it cackle, mocking them and the weightless infatuation that fluttered about in his stomach.

As the ringing of the bell popped their bubble and left them staggering for words as they rushed to pack up their things, Y/N shuffled against his seat with a start, failing to realize how long they hung in the air like that, for how long they silently stared at each other in this wordlessness that lit scarlet flushes under their cheeks. It was as if they melted into each other, and Y/N felt himself beaming at the fact that it managed to happen so seamlessly.

“I guess we shall march into the fray now.” Y/N shrugged, doing his best to pick his words up from off the ground as he trained his eyes on the ground - he took sudden interest in the scuff marks on the tile as the merciless burn of his blush settled into his cheeks, clung to his skin. All of that looking at the ground, doing anything to avert his eyes away from Jisung, and he failed to notice the pencil he dropped on the ground in the midst of his rush to pack up his things.

“I’ll see you on the other side.” Jisung bent down with a princely bow to pluck Y/N’s pencil from off the ground, and with a suave shuffle closer to Y/N and a sly smile - one Jisung would find himself dumbfounded by minutes later on his way to the library, wondering how he could’ve managed it without bursting into sparks - he tucked the pencil into the front pocket of Y/N’s uniform blazer. His voice was cheeky, bright, yet low as it wrapped around them like candlelight. It made Y/N almost shiver. “Safe travels.”

They were on their way out, nearly splitting up, until Y/N finally found it in himself to say as they rounded their respective corners and dove into the mass of passing students:

“No promises.”

The voyage to the library was less perilous than other days, and Y/N - with butterflies still fluttering about in his stomach, leaving his breath tripping over itself - thought that maybe it was the universe heeding his silent pleas to meet Jisung at the time they were too busy looking into each other’s eyes to properly discuss. He just wanted to see Jisung again, and the slight smattering of students in the hall as he made his way to the main foyer and pushed through the doors of the library seemed to Y/N like a sign that the weight in their gazes meant something, it had to.

He found Jisung at a small studying table that was wedged between an aisle of bookshelves, and barely hesitated to pull up a chair and scoot into his proper place across from him. Y/N barely gave a second thought to it all, and began to wonder about how, barely even half an hour ago, they were hesitant to even greet each other and were barely prepared to adjust to each other’s existence. Now, here Y/N was, stumbling into Jisung’s line of sight as if it was part of an everyday routine.

“Hey.”

Jisung looked up with a smile, instantly putting some of his biology textbooks away as Y/N sat down to make space for the papers their English teacher gave them for their project. Spreading the papers about the table, Jisung shook his head with a chuckle buried under his breath, thinking about how it took their English teacher and a tedious project about narrative studies to bring them together from opposite ends of the social world. With the way they gravitated so helplessly and easily toward one another, it was a shock that they didn’t take this step sooner.

“Hey…” Y/N pulled out his books as well, finding it increasingly difficult to stare at anything but the shimmer in Jisung’s eyes. He’s been waiting for a project like this, and with the way they’ve been able to be so easily in each other’s space, as well as with how talented Jisung is at almost anything - Y/N’s paid witness to Jisung’s many abilities in and out of the classroom - he knows for a fact that this project is going to be but a star in the sky for them. “So, do you have any ideas about the project? I already have a few ideas that I think are gonna work.”

“Getting into it already, huh? We weren't gonna talk about it?” Jisung chuckled, finally looking over the instructions at the top of their pages. Usually he’d be on top of the instructions, already coming up with a couple concepts by the time he was out the door, and finishing his rough draft by the time the moonlight swept up his neighbourhood. However, he was so distracted by Y/N and their unfolding conversation that he barely paid any attention to the fac that they received a project at all.

“I dunno, I just had ideas that I know have worked from other classes I’ve done well in.” in Y/N’s voice lingered this tinge of sheepishness that made Jisung remember that Y/N wasn’t the only one in this school with a reputation that precedes them. “I’ve been waiting for a project like this for a while. Haven’t you?”

Despite Y/N wanting to remain modest in the school’s halls and keeping his expectations of popularity low, everyone knew who Y/N was due to his accolades and achievements. He strived for greatness and excelled at anything he set his mind to, and Jisung felt himself growing a little envious of how easily things seemed to come to Y/N. That envy rippled within him whenever he least expected it, and Jisung never necessarily noticed it before until now - Y/N was always beyond arm’s length, further away than a shuffle of his shoes against Y/N’s own, to realize that he was jealous at all.

Jisung felt it creeping up inside him so suddenly, a wave of bitterness clawed itself up the shore and tore away that bright sweetness that left them flushed, stumbling and chuckling not more than an hour ago. His smile slowly began to fade, and as he felt its corners loosen, pull themselves down, he failed to notice Y/N looking toward him for a response to something Jisung didn’t hear him say. He felt so guilty, they were shining bright smiles at each other, and those few moments with Y/N stirred something in him that he hasn’t felt for anyone before - the last thing he wanted to do was to act on this jealousy or even let it fester like this.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Jisung said, nodding toward the page and wincing as Y/N turned his head and wrote a few things down. The things Y/N has done were a simple reminder that a lot of Jisung’s efforts just didn’t seem to be enough . With the ease and grace with which Y/N received his success - Jisung paying witness to Y/N’s accolades over the years of drifting by his nova and taking in sunlight as he passed - there were many times where Jisung would sit defeated at his desk and think about how it wasn’t worth it.

This sudden urge flooded through Jisung, burst in his veins and ran through him in sparks. He needed to prove himself - he’s spent so long trying to prove himself - and watching how seamlessly Y/N was pulling their group project together made Jisung want to do something, anything to show that he could do it too. He glanced over Y/N’s scrawling in the middle of the page, saw a few bubbles with different types of approaches to the themes in their recent assigned readings.

“How about we do a comparative analysis?” Jisung hastily stitched his words together. He watched as something stirred behind Y/N’s pensive expression and waited eagerly for him. He could see how enthusiastic this project made Y/N.

“Why? That makes literally no sense.” Y/N’s voice was flat yet driven as he stared off into the space between the bookshelves and flipped the pencil between his fingers. He couldn’t see Jisung deflating in the seat across from him out of the corner of his eye, and he failed to notice how the air between and around them seemed to change so drastically, so quickly. The endearing awkwardness of their first meeting shifted into something tense, sour tasting, and unbearably suffocating by a few jumbled thoughts in Jisung’s head. “A comparative analysis is for when there are actual opposing themes, I think we should go for something else.”

This has happened more than once, Y/N stepping up to overshadow Jisung’s ideas with ones that were so much better. It always managed to happen during times whenever Y/N was in his thoughts - Y/N being better than him at all the sports in gym class, edging him out in those small competitions their teachers held in their classes, getting better grades, raising his hand to gently correct whatever Jisung would be chastised for answering in class. It was subtle yet not - for Y/N, it was a clumsy cry for attention to prove to Jisung that he could be as good as him at anything; however, for Jisung, it was a reminder of how much Jisung still needed to learn, and how he wasn’t learning fast enough.

It just seemed to seep into everything Y/N said and did, bitterness washed over Jisung so easily it almost shocked him. All of this regret for letting his thoughts consume him, yet he couldn’t stop them no matter how he thrashed against the waves of growing resentment, jealousy and aggravation in the way Y/N’s feats and successes were shoved in his face.

What Y/N said was something to steer their minds in the correct direction, but Jisung took it as something more than it was. Y/N was excited to do this with Jisung, especially because of their conversation in the classroom, which was a crossing of stars and a jumpstart to the skipped beats of his heart. He admired Jisung so much, and because of that, he wanted to do anything he could to show Jisung that he was just as driven and hard working as him. And now that they’ve become so close so quickly - or so Y/N was still convinced - he couldn’t wait to tell Jisung that hearing about him training under JYP to perform encouraged Y/N to do the same and find ways to hone his skills in performing.

As Y/N’s voice died out and received nothing but a contemptuous silence from the other end of the desk, he finally took a step back and felt the tension now grown between them like weeds. He didn’t know where to place it, how to describe it, but it weighed heavily on him, pressed in on him, and made this cautiousness that drove him restless when he and Jisung first met seep back into every one of his actions. There was something about the way Jisung looked at him now, not with this comforting fondness, but in a wary, pensive, complicated light that made Y/N wonder if that moment they shared in the classroom was real.

Y/N cleared his throat, desperate to bend the silence in any way he could. “Anyway, uhm… I- I heard that you’re training at JYP now…?” Y/N tread lightly, scrounging up as much of that timid fire that flashed between them as possible. He wanted to hold on to that shine of starlight, that brief but unmistakable glint in every one of their sideways smiles and arched eyebrows. Y/N felt the tension ease under him just a little bit, and he could see the sporadic softening of Jisung’s gaze as he looked up - it was as if Jisung was holding something back, dealing with thought that just dawned on him. Maybe that was what managed to shift them so drastically. With a breath, Y/N continued: “That’s really cool, I’ve seen you working hard.”

“Yeah, I have.” Jisung caught onto his words and how bitterness seemed to singe the edges of them. If Y/N looked shocked or hurt by the way Jisung said his words, Jisung couldn’t tell - at least not on the surface. Y/N looked almost unresponsive, in between thoughts as Jisung felt himself leaning back and crossing his arms defensively. “I’ve been working ‘really’ hard, actually. For years now…”

“Oh… Okay…” Was all Y/N could muster, confused by Jisung’s reponses, but not necessarily as surprised as he thought he would be. Y/N supposed that he was coming on a little too strong with wanting to prove himself with this project - maybe his correction was the one thing that tipped Jisung over the edge. Feeling the tension swell around them like humid, suffocating heat, Y/N cut himself short of anything else he was going to say and simply ducked away and focused on the paper between them. He jotted down a few ideas lightly, but aside from that couldn’t think of anything else. “Cool.”

Y/N cut himself short on all the other things he was going to say. How he was already auditioning for multiple big companies who saw his potential - and more importantly, how Jisung’s hard work inspired him to do so. He was also going to tell Jisung that with the help of Hyunjin, one of Jisung’s fellow trainees, Y/N was able to get scouted by one company in particular that was already prepared to give him a spot in their boy group. Y/N wanted to rave with a smile about how he would start training in the summer, after the school year ends, when everything is settled with his group, assets, budgeting, staff, and the rest. But he didn’t say anything… He didn’t know if saying anything else would rock the boat even more and leave them soaking wet in whatever strangling tension they left each other in.

So they remained as they were, Y/N scratching down ideas for their project, and Jisung sitting back with his arms folded, pride and ego torn in scraps around him as he thought about how this project so easily brought them together, and how his rampaging, relentless thoughts split them so easily apart.

Their admiration for each other sat forlorn in the classroom where they last remembered that it existed.

Han Jisung found himself on the frayed ends of yet another sleepless night, reeling and seeing stars even long after they'd burned out in the night sky after another merciless, gruelling practice session between him and his reflection in the mirrors. The JYP practice room’s walls feel less and less like a home the longer he spends with nothing but looping music to keep him grounded. Every breath Jisung let out crumbled to the scuffed laminate flooring below his unsteady feet; they wavered and shattered under the weight of the pale overhead lighting that was almost as worn and tired as he was - but he couldn’t afford to let the scars of his exhaustion overtake him just yet. Not until he was finally debuting, on that stage with a microphone in his hand and his own music rumbling the stage beneath him.

He restlessly circled the room, hanging by tangled threads of leftover moonlight as he could practically feel the blue glow of the dawn bleeding into the night sky.

It was like this every time, the darkness of his spare hours seeping into the cracks in his resolve, the weathered tears in his aching body, and the fissures in his heart. The shadows of each of his over-memorized dance steps, the afterburn of his practice music running circles around him - it all chases him down and burrows beneath his surface like a snide remark that can never leave his side. No matter when he’d pull his phone from the speaker’s chords or if he’s on the verge of collapsing in his little universe of smudged mirrors and soundproof walls, the space between that he can do and everything he can’t do haunts him every step of the way.

With every critique he bludgeons himself with, he always managed to think of Y/N and the last conversation they had together - and the morsels of interactions that soon fizzled out into the indifference that they never carried for each other. Between them, it was always this half-baked admiration based on things they heard in hallways and through dregs of classroom gossip, but nothing more. And now, how they felt about each other was this incongruous mixture of things they didn’t know how to say and emotions they didn’t quite know how to feel - wrapped up and strangled by the tension that still looms over Jisung’s shoulder every now and then from that afternoon in the library.

It was resentment, jealousy, bitterness, guilt, the struggle of both sides of himself to give both of them the benefit of the doubt. But in the end he just couldn’t… He couldn’t see Y/N without feeling an irritation bubble up in him with how easily Y/N succeeded at things, with how, on his surface, he was this epitome of perfection that always seemed to edge out all of Jisung’s hard work. The tension he left them in that day was scorching and insufferable to the point where, in a tangle of excuses and muttered apologies, Y/N left the table with his head hung low - thoughts and questions weighing heavily on him of how things could’ve gone so wrong, no doubt.

As Jisung was left with the paper that Y/N scrawled his ideas on, and nothing but a silhouette of carved sunlight where Y/N once sat, Jisung was met with a muddled rationality and too much contempt and envy that he knew what to do with. Even the remains of afternoon sunlight Y/N left Jisung to play restlessly with as he left shone brighter than Jisung ever seemed to at the time, and with that, despite all of the admiration that was still fighting for attention in Jisung’s chest, Jisung barely even followed Y/N’s steps on his way out of the library, and paid little mind to the knot of relief and guilt that tightened in his stomach as he heard the whine of the library doors close.

There were a couple instances after that where their gazes met across the classroom, or where they brushed against each other in cafeteria lines or in assembly halls. Jisung could faintly remember Y/N trying to start conversation, but giving up halfway through the moment he realized that Jisung had no intention of speaking; he wanted, so badly, so say something, anything, in order to make that agonizing strain in Y/N’s eyes fade to the light that drew him in in the first place - but there was also a part of him that knew he was going to let something slip if he did nothing less than smile cordially and move on.

That pained, yet still hopeful expression on Y/N’s face that Jisung caught as he walked away hurt him more and more every time.

Jisung rested his head against the mirror, feeling it’s coolness sear into his skin as he thought about Y/N’s attempts to text him, exchange a look across the hallway, all faded into nothing - no more texts, no more smiles, not even a cordial nod in the hallway just knowing that Jisung would bite back his contempt and leave Y/N to fumble with his words. Y/N didn’t see the point anymore, and sought to salvage what was left of his admiration, whatever parts of his heart he lent toward those few moments he had with Jisung in that classroom.

Before any more guilt, exhaustion, confusion and conflict could swallow Jisung up and submerged him even deeper in his own thoughts, Jisung perked up as he heard laughter and conversation spreading throughout the hallway - both of the voices sounded so familiar, teetering on the edge of Jisung’s recognition. And Jisung’s deep breaths only collapsed into an even louder sigh as they stopped in front of the practice room door and showed their faces - one of them, anyway. One of them was Hyunjin, someone he’s had a rather tumultuous relationship with recently, but as they’ve neared their debut date, they’ve come to see each other’s side of things and have been patching up their rather rough history.

Hyunjin was smiling brightly at the other, who had their back turned to him, yet their voice was familiar in a way that left Jisung feeling nothing in particular - a more fuzzy, out-of-focus feeling that left him as disoriented as his feelings about Y/N were.

Hyunjin looked up and over the other person’s shoulder for a second, and the brilliance of their smile only shone even brighter as he locked his eyes with Jisung’s. At this change in Hyunjin’s face, even the texture of his words, the other person turned around, and their eyes went wide as they found none other than Jisung on the other end of their gaze.

It was Y/N, wrapped up in one of the old hoodies he would always change into during their last period gym classes in their senior year. Jisung froze, and thought about how Y/N seemed to grow so much and not at all at the same time. Jisung’s mouth hung ajar, and Hyunjin hesitantly followed in Y/N’s reckless footsteps through the open doorway, closer to Jisung in a trance he could barely control himself.

“Hey…” Y/N’s voice was still the same in all the ways that Jisung found both mesmerizing and grating - sweet yet sharp, bright and blinding. And as he made his way closer, Jisung tried his best not to think about all the things that stirred within him whenever he met the light in Y/N’s eyes - those intelligent, observant, glittering eyes.

“Hi.” Jisung kept it curt, short, something he would’ve said when they would bump into each other post-library-incident. The tension between them, that emptiness that Jisung thought about whenever Y/N surfaced in his thoughts, flooded right back into the room as if Jisung hadn’t spent hours trying to forget the way their interactions now made him feel, what their interactions made him remember.

“Wow, isn’t this riveting…” Hyunjin said after a moment’s too long of confused silence. “I didn’t know you knew Jisung, Y/N.”

“Y-yeah, I do.” Y/N didn’t know whether to look at Jisung or not - if he was going to return his gaze or if he was just going to leave his stare empty like he did all throughout the rest of their junior year. He didn’t wait for any ascent, for any approving silence this time, and turned to Jisung, both taking him in all at once and trying to barely acknowledge that he was there. To Jisung, it looked as if Y/N was looking through him even as he looked back into Y/N’s eyes. “It’s been a white, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it has…” Was all Jisung could say, not realizing how difficult it would be to hold Y/N’s gaze in his own after such a long time of looking the other way, dismissing him. To an extent, it was too much to take, finding Y/N here in the center of his practice room, his little broken world nestled in the far corner of the JYP building where all the noise simultaneously ceased and never stopped. An overwhelming fervour cut Jisung’s words short and clumsily, and watched as Y/N perked up at the sound of his voice.

“How are you?” Y/N’s voice drifted in the space between him and Jisung for a while, and the longer Jisung left it to linger, the further the space between them seemed to stretch. It all reeled back in with a stretch as Jisung took a step forward, tracing over the weathered, nearly bursting seams of all the contempt he held within himself - he thought his silence, plugging his earphones in over the school’s PA to ignore Y/N receiving another accolade he just beat Jisung out on, shoving Y/N into the dark recesses of his thoughts, would’ve helped.

But now he was here, fighting back everything Y/N was able to spark in him - that resentment, that bitter, blistering resentment, jealousy and frustration all bubbling up yet again at the sight of Y/N’s careless smile. He was so tired of Y/N always putting himself out there - out there in Jisung’s way, he was so tired of Y/N grinning at him, reassuring him and complimenting him. It all felt like a condescending pat on the head, all of the ways Y/N was so relentlessly kind to him.

Why did he have to be here? Why did Hyunjin have to bring him here? Why did SM have to accept him? Why did he always seem to claim all his flowers without needing to bleed and cry for them?

“What?” Jisung mustered, feeling the bile of all his sleepless nights, cruel patterns of constant practicing, straining until his voice shattered and thinking about how, if he failed, he had nothing to fall back on.

Y/N’s voice was shrivelled now. He could see this fire raging in Jisung’s eyes but didn’t know what to make of it. It aligned with all the ways Jisung constantly swatted him away like some pest, but he could never figure out why this all seemed to start. All he wanted was to befriend someone he admired, maybe be even more than that. But now here he was, reaching out stupidly into the jaws of a beast that he apparently awakened.

If only he knew that he had actually awakened it…

“I… I said ‘how are you’? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and stuff, and I see that you’re still working hard-”

“Yes, yes I am.” Jisung didn’t care to hold back the sharpness in his tone anymore, and clenched his fists at his sides. His eyes wildfire, scorching every inch of the room and withering the cruel, pallid lights above to mere cinders. “And I see that I’m still working hard while you’re getting whatever you want.”

He could feel it all coming up in one fell swoop, a massive torrent of emotion that nearly drove him to tears already. He could already see how hurt Y/N was but his words, he could see Y/N fumble over himself and step back - but he wanted to keep going.

“What…?” Y/N’s confusion made its way out in a pitiful whimper, and looked back to Hyunjin and could see him stunned, nearly frozen as well. He looked back to Jisung, nearly dragged against his will by the sheer gravity of Jisung’s intense glare.

“Jisung, what the-” Hyunjin was about to put in, but Jisung’s jagged, furious voice rose over his, submerged it.

“There’s a reason why we stopped talking, you know. There was a reason why I shoved you aside and didn’t want anything to do with you, and that’s because you’re a reminder of all the torment I put myself through, okay!? You get anything you want at your very whim, you can walk into a room and smile and the world would be yours, but what about me!? You always edge me out and beat me by a sliver for doing nothing, while I give up all of me to do the things that I love - you would clamour for attention and always outshine me, and I know for a fact that it’s always been on purpose. ALWAYS! You’re always in my face, deliberately proving me wrong just so you can be right and you’re always there to steal anybody’s shine the moment there’s a possibility of someone being better than you at something.” Jisung felt his breath seeping out of him and read Y/N’s motionlessly shocked expression. He hated how hurt Y/N seemed to be, when he was the one who was hurting everyone else. “I figured that out a little too late, I guess. And that project just proved to me that you look for ways to make people smaller than you. I’m done feeling small - I don’t need your help to think of all the ways I need to tear myself apart to get half as far as where you can in a single step.”

Jisung let out all the breath he still held hostage at the base of his lungs, his very benign trembling with all the frustration he just let out. However, it all seemed to fizzle away in an instant as he watched Y/N’s face twist up into something he didn’t quite expect. It wasn’t acceptance or guilt, but it was this suffocating, saturated sadness that permeated the room - a true understanding of every word that Jisung said and how everything Y/N did made Jisung feel the way he did.

There was this sharp pang of guilt in Jisung’s stomach, wrenching in him like a lodged blade. He thought he’d feel better, triumphant even, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something to feel sorry about. It was as if he missed something in the way he said everything, and he couldn’t help but feel himself tremble for a different reason now, shuffle toward Y/N not out of fury, but out of this sudden desire to reach out and hold Y/N’s own restlessly fidgeting hands.

Y/N looked out to Jisung and felt the room close in on him - he was stupefied, frozen in utter shock. Everything Jisung said seemed to make so much more sense the longer Y/N let the heat of Jisung’s anger scorch his skin and drown him in flames. The slow trail of growing silence after their incident at the library; that sudden shift from touching the tips of their shoes under the table to Y/N pressing himself to the back of the chair, shuffling on eggshells as he monitored Jisung’s serrated, pointed tone with no way to explain it. It made so much sense, and placed reason into gaps in all of Y/N’s useless wondering and thinking about what he’s done wrong all this time - all this clarity and yet it also left Y/N muddled in a new knot of emotions.

This regret began to swallow Y/N whole as he realized that all the ways he earnestly tried to prove himself to Jisung were taken as nothing but a threat to all of Jisung’s hard work, a way to make him feel small and bolster Y/N’s own supposedly insatiable ego, yet another academic conquest with the ruins of Jisung’s dignity in his wake… The regret bloomed, and this hopeless sense of defeat hit him square in the chest, leaving him lost for words.

Y/N was confused, sad, sorry, and still thinking - and knowing - what he could’ve done, said or haven’t said, to have made it better. He didn’t know how all of his cries for Jisung’s attention could have turned so sour and left Jisung scowling at everything he did. But it happened, and Y/N was left with the fallout of all Jisung’s contempt through unanswered texts, drifting gazes and silent treatments in the hallway.

“I…” Y/N could feel his voice sinking to the bottom of his throat, the weight of everything Jisung bearing down on him. He could almost feel himself shatter as he wrapped his arms around himself, keeping his eyes off Jisung more for his own sake than anyone else’s. “I didn’t mean…”

He didn’t know what to say as he could practically feel Jisung inch toward him, pushing his way through the tangle of emotions pulled taut between them. Jisung felt something drop, the last frayed tendrils of a rope finally snapping after he said what he did. He thought he’d feel relieved, but all the forces within him made him feel nothing but this looming regret as if he had gotten something wrong, as if all of Y/N’s actions were lost in translation.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, I didn’t mean anything like that…” The heat of Y/N’s tears was blistering, searing as they trickled down his cheeks - a storm of stomach-churning shock he just couldn’t control. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Wait, what- Y/N.” Before Jisung knew it, he was throwing an arm out to catch Y/N’s wrist before he could turn away from him. “What do you mean- what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung’s silence was frantic, and Y/N found everything he couldn’t say began to pile up, tremble and spill out of him. “I just… I really admired you, Jisung. I was so inspired by you, so a lot of the things I did and said were to show you that I could be as good as you. I wanted to impress you, and to prove to you that I had what it took to be just like you…” Y/N hung his head, he still couldn’t figure out how his expression of all his pure admiration could have gone so sideways, how all of his visions of Jisung’s grandeur could’ve done the exact opposite and made him feel small. His scramble for attention seemed like nothing but ego and selfishness, and Y/N felt a sense of shame flourish in him like a sharp pain. “I really liked you… But I guess I did nothing but make things worse, so I’ll leave you alone… I promise…”

With that Y/N turned around again and pulled his wrist free of Jisung’s wavering grip with a weak, feeble tug. Jisung felt his mouth wrench itself shut, it’s been agape this whole time after hearing what was practically a confession. How could he have interpreted Y/N’s affections so poorly, so spitefully - someone wanted to be like him and he turned the other way, ignored them and claimed that it was nothing but a superiority complex at the root of their kindness. Someone admired him, someone wanted to be friends with him - maybe even more - and show themselves, only for Jisung to strip them of all they tried to prove.

He felt tears well up in his own eyes; guilt, confusion, a restless swelling of regret, and the aftershock of hindsight all crowded around him. His words tripped over themselves until they were a worthless sputter that could do nothing to make Y/N turn back around.

“W-wait… Y/N!”

“I’m sorry…”

Y/N made his way out of the room, leaving Jisung in a deafening croon of silence with Hyunjin in the corner in utter shock of everything that just unfolded in front of him. The moment Y/N turned the corner, Jisung could feel his absence - not just physically, but in every aspect of their intertwining lives - in this gaping tear in the space around him. It was as if something that always clung to him was truly lost. Jisung’s teary gaze left everything around him in a blur, yet the look in Y/N’s face will never be less than crystal clear, seared into his head as his emotions fought mercilessly for space in his mind.

“What the fuck just happened…?” Hyunjin stared out to where Y/N stood moments ago, every second without him and with everything they laid on those dirty laminate floors scraping by excruciatingly slow yet disorientingly fast at the same time. They both said so much and all Hyunjin wanted to do was to bolt out of the room and find where Y/N could have stormed off to, but he couldn’t help but watch as Jisung pulled at his hair, thinking about all the things he missed.

All the things he could’ve said back, all the texts he left on read, and all that bitter spite he held to Y/N’s throat, it was all based on a misunderstanding that tore both of them to shreds.

All his hate fell under false pretences, built on unsteady foundations on ‘what if’s and blurred lines he was too ready to cross to make himself feel better. And now Y/N was gone, but the shadow of all his words were already running circles in Jisung’s mind - he needed to find him, he needed to make up for every moment he spent despising Y/N for things he just couldn’t understand.

He didn’t realize how much he needed Y/N until his wishes for Y/N to leave him alone finally came true.

Ever since that day, Jisung has been rolling around ideas in his head of how to apologize, folding up and splaying out words and phrases in his head, rehearsing what he would want to say in order to make up for everything, as that distraught, confused, and ultimate empty sadness in Y/N’s eyes made everything make sense in the worst ways. However, all of these possibilities of what he could say to Y/N were only able to be put into motion if Y/N ever happened to show up around the building…

Jisung hasn’t been able to spot Y/N since he walked out, and it’s been a few days since then. He’s tried prying information out of Hyunjin, but Hyunjin always gives him little to nothing to work with - nothing but a sideways look toward Jisung that spells out every reason as to why Y/N isn’t here. He couldn’t blame Y/N, not one bit, for staying away from the JYP building after everything that Jisung let spill out of him. But Jisung also wanted, so badly, to make it better. He just didn’t know how.

During the hours he spent remembering all the ways Y/N’s features shattered under the weight of his pain, Jisung would wander the halls of the building in vague, fruitless hopes that Y/N would be around the corner of a corridor or in the doorway of one of the practice rooms that only Jisung knows of. He realized how much of Y/N he remembered as he would walk down through the cryptically silent crevices of the JYP building, how all the places he was pulled to were because of where he thought Y/N would gravitate to.

He also found ways to turn over all of Y/N’s little habits and preferences in his hands as if their best moments - the single one they had before Jisung sent everything crashing down - were still right in front of them. There were so many aspects of Y/N, minutiae and little things that Jisung was convinced irked him, but actually made him realize his feelings that much more. Whether it be the way his smile always managed to be so contagious, the way his eyes flickered with this energy and light that Jisung could find nowhere else, or how Y/N managed to make Jisung feel like the only person that mattered whenever he attempted conversation. These were all things that Jisung ignored, shoved away and pushed to the side, thinking nothing of them but an attempt to rub something in Jisung’s face, but whenever Jisung thought about it, he could never quite solidify what it was that Y/N was so maliciously trying to prove.

Yes, sometimes Y/N’s ambition got in his way - rather, they seemed to cross paths more often than not - but all the things he accused Y/N of stemmed more from the ways he saw himself than from how Y/N ever saw him. Because with what Y/N said in tattered sobs before leaving the practice room, Y/N saw him as an inspiration, someone to look up to - Jisung saw Y/N as a nuisance who got in his way and always managed to highlight the gap between where Jisung was and how much further he thought he still needed to go. It was some tortured, twisted form of projecting that Jisung failed to notice until, upon his fifteenth-to-sixteenth time asking Hyunjin if Y/N was around somewhere, Hyunjin sat him down in the middle of the practice room and meticulously -almost suspiciously accurately - psychoanalyzed him as if he wasn’t the dumbass who microwaved the plastic fork packed with his instant noodles the night before.

So, without the help of Hyunjin or anyone else, Jisung set out yet again to think of how to make everything up to Y/N on the slim chances that he actually does manage to be within one of these rooms or halls or corners or little cafes. He let all of Y/N rise to his surface once more, bubbling beneath his skin not like it used to - an irritating itch that Jisung just couldn’t scratch - but as the heat of a flustered flush does. How Y/N always preferred to be on the edge of the classroom rather than near the center, how he always managed to glow so brilliantly in the warm afternoon sunlight, and how they always managed to meet eyes where Y/N was lingering in calm, quiet places of comforting colours.

“Hey- no, uhm… Hi- no…” Jisung couldn’t hold all of his plotting in his head so he just started unfurling all his rehearsing into the empty hallways - or so he thought they were empty… “I’m so sorry you feel this way- NO, that’s the stupidest apology ever!”

“I mean yeah, it could be better… But it’s a start”

A voice leaking from one of the doorways Jisung failed to check rang with this half-empty snarkiness, as if it was hesitant whether to fill the space behind Jisung or not. However, upon hearing it, Jisung instantly turned around, feeling the melody of a voice that’s as familiar to him as his own, yet he’s heard it so few times - once in awkward glee and the second time in broken grief and sadness. Jisung hid a grin behind a bitten lip as he saw Y/N leaning against one of the doorways to one of his favourite practice rooms. He could hardly believe it, he never thought that Y/N would actually come back after what happened, but here he was.

“I’m sure whoever you want to apologize to would end up feeling sorry for you if you said that.” Y/N continued in Jisung’s stunned silence, trying to avoid Jisung’s eyes for fear of what fire he’d possibly find in them this time. He didn’t necessarily know why he was there either, a change of atmosphere, waiting for Hyunjin to finish changing so they could practice together, or possibly waiting for Jisung - what would happen if they met, Y/N didn’t know either.

However, they were right in front of each other now, and Y/N found himself stuck halfway between the words he didn’t know how to say. Jisung was frozen too, rooted in his awe, before shrugging it off with a frenzied shake of his head. As he looked up, Y/N’s face was pensive, withdrawn, as if he was holding something back, and Jisung couldn’t blame him.

“Hey…” Was all Jisung could find in himself now. All that rehearsing, setting his words in scrambled yet neat rows, and now all he could find were tangles of thoughts.

“Hey.”

Y/N felt shrivelled up and cautious, and Jisung couldn’t help but know that those sour notes of pain and hesitance in Y/N’s voice was all because of him. Everything he said, all that misdirected and mistranslated anger and frustration, all on a person who was trying to do their best - and perhaps do their best for Jisung himself too.

“I- I…” Jisung fidgeted with his hands, finding it funny that no matter how far in advance he planned for this moment, he knew he could never be ready for when Y/N would finally be here, waiting patiently beyond the threshold of one of their practice rooms - it was everything he imagined, but at the time he supposed his imagination too wild. “I… Don’t know where to start…”

Y/N took a deep breath, and the shakiness in his long sigh rang through the hallway in a way that made Jisung’s heart shatter all over again. In a turn of events that nearly shook Jisung’s solemnity to his core, though, a flicker of a smile showed up on Y/N’s face and he settled against the doorframe he was leaning against. His eyes were still lightless, contemplative, sad, but Jisung felt something in him brighten as Y/N turned toward him fully.

“I…” The words Y/N was trying to push out of himself felt heavier and heavier as he finally brought his eyes up to Jisung’s. That smile he shone was something he hoped would help them, possibly loosen the strangle-hold the tense air had on them a little bit, but Y/N could feel his sadness rising up in him again, shortening his breath. “I don’t either…”

Jisung took a step closer, and nearly choked on his breath as Y/N didn’t recede, only keeping his eyes on the way Jisung restlessly fidgeted with his hands. “You don’t need to start anywhere, Y/N, I do… I’m here to apologize for everything I said because I managed to say every hurtful thing I possibly could.”

“Yeah, I mean… It was kinda impressive… You covered all the territory...” Y/N curled his arms around himself as he thought back on it, he could still feel the fires of Jisung’s anger trailing him, taunting him as he did his best to distract himself from all the ways an aspiration of friendship came crashing down.

“Y/N…” Jisung took another step, and before he knew it he was taking Y/N’s hand into his own. The last time he had Y/N’s hand in his own, he was trying to catch him from walking out of one of these practice rooms, now Jisung found himself coming closer and closer, with Y/N taking no steps toward him or away from him. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to throw all of my confusion and anger onto you, I twisted all of your actions to suit my frustrations and that’s really fucked up. I never knew how much you looked up to me, and if I wasn’t a dumbass for one second then maybe I could’ve seen it and treated you the way I should’ve, and maybe I could’ve never said those things as if I know everything about you - which I obviously don’t.”

Y/N felt Jisung’s words tear right through him in a way that was borderline transcendent. By the way Jisung’s eyes shimmered like shattered moonlight as Y/N turned away, he always imagined Jisung coming up to him, telling him that it was all okay, and that he was as sorry as Y/N was for making what could’ve been a beautiful friendship into something so disastrous. However, the little cynic nestled in his heart never thought that this could be a reality, any more than a teary-eyed vision of what he wanted.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m really sorry that I didn’t figure this out sooner - I needed Hyunjin to set me straight of all people, and that’s embarrassing enough.” At that, Jisung felt the air loosen around them as Y/N let out a small giggle. “You don’t have to forgive me… But I do want to make up for as much as I can…”

Jisung stared out toward Y/N for what felt like an eternity, until Y/N finally picked up the scattered pieces of his voice, of his thoughts, of everything that Jisung’s breathlessness and intoxicatingly sincerity just sent stirring in him. “I… I appreciate that. I don’t need you to ‘make up’ for anything, though. Your apology was enough for me - as hurtful as what you said was, I still can’t help but feel bad for the way I made you feel. I should’ve just said that I liked you from the start…”

“I-” Jisung could almost feel what Y/N said, running against his skin, digging beneath his surface once more. Y/N said this once before when they were in the practice room, both of their hearts left in tatters after Jisung’s anger and Y/Ns’ sadness. But hearing it once more felt like this strange sense of liberation, of finding something Jisung thought was lost. “Maybe if I said I liked you too then we wouldn't need hindsight eating away at us…”

Y/N chuckled and leaned back on the doorframe, this brightness urging back into him after so long, since the last time they truly spoke - which was almost a year and a half by now. Jisung let his mouth hang open at Y/N’s sudden spurt of happiness, part of him relieved to see Y/N smiling, and the other completely offended by Y/N just brushing off his confession like that. However, he couldn’t stay mad with the way Y/N’s smile turned the corners of his stoic frown upwards, making everything seem to melt away for the moments happiness sang on Y/N’s lips. “I don’t wanna sound conceited, but with the amount of footsies you played with me under the tables I could’ve guessed.”

“Shit. I’m not as brooding and mysterious as I thought…”

“Brooding, yes. You might need to work on that mystery aspect a little bit.” Y/N squeezed Jisung’s hand with his own, remembering for a second that their fingers were tied for a moment. “The wounds are still kinda fresh…” Y/N said hesitantly, not wanting to dip them back into the territory of what Jisung came to apologize for in the first place; however, all rational parts of Y/N couldn’t just pretend that the hurt didn’t exist. Jisung nodded with a pout, stepping a little bit closer until their faces were inches apart. He smiled when Y/N gave Jisung a little tug by the wrist to bring him that much closer to the point where he could feel the space between them taunting him. “And I’d more than love to be friends with you, it’s all I wanted. But maybe come back to me when you get better at being mysterious…”

“So this is a see you later? Not a goodbye…?” Jisung said into the corner of Y/N’s smile, waiting so badly for permission to tip that chin and close the space. He nudged Y/N’s nose with his own with a coy flush igniting on his cheeks, and after a moment’s hesitation that nearly made Jisung’s heart drop, Y/N nudged him back.

“How about a ‘see you tomorrow’...?” Y/N tilted his head the slightest bit. “Same time?”

“Same place.” Jisung immediately responded.

“Okay great, come back to me then and maybe we could talk.”

With a smile Y/N leaned in and finally closed the space, Jisung falling helplessly into Y/N’s gravity, bursting like a star under that blazing numbness searing through him as they tied their lips together. Kissing Y/N was like a deep breath of relief, a flicker of sunlight in those days of blind darkness, clear skies after a downpour of tears. It was everything Jisung dreamed of during those sparse glances in hallways and in those moments in that English classroom where it felt like there was nothing in the world. Y/N’s lips were a singularity in space, a place of infinite feeling where Jisung could be drowned in nothingness that made him feel everything.

They pulled back, looked at each other, and finally realized for how long they’ve been holding this breath for each other - longer than either of them could even recall. They’ve been on the peripheries of each other’s lives and now have been brought into full focus; maybe not in the way they would want or prefer, but they were here, finally not a blur of assumptions and rumours but as someone on the other end of their fingertips, of someone they grasp onto like an instinct.

“Bye…” Jisung was breathless, still looking for the breath that Y/N stole away from him. Despite what Jisung said, everything in him wanted to stay right here.

“Bye…” Y/N said, feeling Jisung’s arms wrap around him, keeping them in place and betraying their words.

Everything in Y/N didn’t want Jisung to leave either, he wanted Jisung were he could find him, he wanted him those close always, he wanted this feeling of electric closeness that left him losing feeling in his fingertips as he cautiously traced Jisung’s skin, he wanted the feeling of drowning out the entire world around them. This was where they were supposed to be…

For how long would they stay here, they didn’t know, they didn’t care - maybe until Jisung needed to go to the bathroom, who knows? - but what they did know at this point was that they could take the scars they gave each other and turn them into beauty marks they’d spend all night drawing shapes into, they turned sadness, anger, fear of losing everything into happiness, compassion, things they never thought they could feel.

They’ll stay here for as long as the universe can bear it.

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

dive into you; park jisung

(7,453 words) - large

summary ➣ Back on another season of 7llin’ together, the only thing that Y/N and Jisung have to worry about is how much of them the cameras will catch throughout the course of their days.

genre ➣ fluff

requested - 👍 by @roba22

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Y/N and the rest of NCT Dream have already made a dent into their stay at the vacation home their managers rented out for the next few weeks, with mornings tossed down the drain - splatters of unseen sunlight on the walls as barely any of them rose until the amber fires of the afternoon burned on the horizon - and nights spent around shoddy bonfires with laughter spiralling into the starlit sky like the smoke in the middle of them. Going into this experience of filming seasons of 7llin’, Y/N was always so worried about the cameras, freezing every other second, hyperaware and paranoid with the way they caught all of his actions.

However, Y/N thawed out soon enough - with the assistance of the warmth of Jisung’s embrace and teasing. After a few days, maybe even less than that if Y/N counted the ones he wasn’t awake for, he forgot that the cameras even existed, whether that be to his benefit or not. Hours were swept out from under him the longer he spent wrapped up in Jisung’s arms with the sheets tangled up between and around them, untouched curtains letting dapples of silver sunlight dance along them, prick their skin before Jisung would lean over in a drowsy slumber and kiss where the sunlight left its mark.

It was because of Jisung that all of this seemed to be so easy - Y/N’s integration into NCT Dream, recording over verses and making space in choreographies established before Y/N even started straining, all the doubt and paranoia and guilt that came with being in a place that Y/N didn’t feel he belonged in - for those moments Jisung was there next to him, it was as if everything that led up to this point was weightless, mattered not. Y/N’s relationship with Jisung didn’t always make things easier, but what mattered was that now it did, Y/N and Jisung were each other’s places of sweet reprieve, whether it be from overwhelming pressure and expectations to always be at their best, or to find moments of quiet between the rest of NCT’s clangorous, chaotic arguing .

The managers and staff lured most of NCT Dream out to the pool area, with Mark, Jeno, Haechan and Jaemin splashing each other and leaving more water on the poolside than in the deep ends they were wading in, and with Renjun sitting on a wobbly pool-floatie with his moments of peace expectedly cut short by Chenle tipping it over. Y/N and Jisung took a little more coaxing than the rest, as they planned to stay on their course for the day and avoid contact - direct or otherwise - with any sunlight or air or grass or semblance of the outside world. However, Y/N was the first to cave in as he raised an eyebrow at being able to catch glimpses of Jisung changing, and Jisung was dragged out with the exact same thing on his mind, being able to shut the bathroom door on the camera, take Y/N in by the waist, hoist him up onto the vanity’s countertop and stay swaying between Y/N’s knees, looking right into Y/N’s eyes.

The staff supposed they were changing very, very slowly…

If changing slowly meant Jisung hugging Y/N around the torso in nothing but his bathing suit as Y/N wrapped his legs around Jisung and brought him in even closer, kissing the top of Jisung’s head and feeling lips dance across his collarbone, delicate hands diving under the thin black swimming shirt that clung to Y/N’s body in all the right ways… Then yes, they were changing very, very slowly.

Jisung was now sitting at the pool’s edge by the shallowest edge he could find, shifting from foot to foot as he kept them hesitantly submerged beneath the clear water’s surface. He tried not to look too awkward and took particular interest in the way his hands seemed to warp and refract whenever he dunked them in the water, the pool’s waves like pale blue veins overlapping with his own. His focus was soon ripped away, however, Y/N on the other side of the pool, one of the other seven of his members shoving each other into the water, caught his eye and in an instant, he was cutting through the water like a knife to meet Jisung where he sat alone. Y/N held so much gravity in his eyes, his smile, his hands, his waist, his voice, his everything; and with that, Jisung paid the price of never being able to keep his eyes on anything else other than Y/N.

His stares across the room at Y/N no matter what was going on around them, his world and his reality only where Y/N was, have become so shameless that even camera people, translators and makeup staff are catching him and sheepishly asking him to dial it back.

He did exactly that, followed Y/N’s every move as he waded through the shallowing waters on the way to meet Jisung, and found himself midway through a gasp and a hearty chuckle as Y/N dove beneath the water and a loud thud of his head meeting the heightened pool floor seemed to resonate through the entire pool.

“Oh shit, that was a really bad idea!”

“Uhm, careful! The pool gets shallower~” Jisung sang into the sunlit air, and he smiled even brighter as it was met with Y/N’s bitter contempt. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Jisung scooted down the edge of the pool to where Y/N was treading by the start of the shallow end, holding his forehead with a wince of pain contorting his lips, a spiteful smile soon overtook it, though, and Y/N paddled over to Jisung, who took Y/N by the shoulders and pulled him closer to rest between Jisung’s legs. Doing his best - and failing horribly - to be as inconspicuous as possible, burying his affections beneath the splashes and screams from the other side of the pool, Jisung pushed Y/N’s soaking wet hair from where it was plastered to his face, and tilted Y/N’s head by the chin to check if he was okay.

At this point, he didn’t even care about the cameras - a routine of apathy they fall into no matter where they are; variety shows with Jisung snaking an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, recordings backstage with Jisung fixing Y/N’s microphone and nudging stray hairs into place, vlogs by other members that catch Y/N and Jisung wrestling the absolute crap out of each other in the middle of practice rooms in the reflections of the mirrors. Fractions of the adoration they carried for each other laid everywhere since Y/N’s debut, and Jisung knew that this, Y/N idling by Jisung as he fixed Y/N’s hair, was just another little memory to tack onto the rest of what they’ve done on camera.

Y/N shone a smile as Jisung tucked some of Y/N’s hair behind his ear, and it took everything Jisung had and more not to just melt at the way Y/N’s brilliance nearly shorted out the ivory sunlight lingering over them. “Nah, I’m good. Maybe this is what it felt like when you fell from heaven.”

That sly tone in Y/N's voice even made the clouds roll their eyes, and Jisung let out a loud groan as Y/N’s remark, and all the coyness that came with it, singed Jisung’s skin just so, that it was absolutely impossible to fake a frown. Jisung’s smile was almost as bright and wide as Y/N’s, and he wrapped his legs around Y/N’s waist and dragged him closer - he rested his hands behind him on the poolside so he wouldn’t just take Y/N by the neck and kiss him senseless in front of three cameras, four if the one by the patio was still keeping tabs on them.

Doing his best to keep up that mask of feigned frustration, struggling to hold back the sheer bliss and adoration that burst at his seems whenever Y/N was close enough to take in, Jisung arched an eyebrow and pushed Y/N back again with his foot. “I will literally drown you if you say any more corny shit like that.” Jisung hoped that the camera didn’t linger on the way his tender yet trembling hands handled Y/N’s hair, tucked it away behind his ear as Y/N smiled up joyfully at him, the way his smile ignited even brighter as he caught Y/N’s eyes in his own, and how long he held Y/N wrapped up in his bare legs.

“I’d like to see you try!” That low, smug rumble beneath Y/N’s words only grew stronger as he caught Jisung’s foot before he could bring it back and tugged on it to bring Jisung closer. Jisung scrambled for the pool’s edge so he wouldn’t fall into the water, and he left a yelp behind him from where he was sitting comfortably; he could only be comfortable in a realm of chaos like this for so long. Y/N was becoming a member of Dream so seamlessly, in all the good and the not so good ways, with all the love as well as all the teasing and torment.

He should’ve known better than to think he was safe from Y/N at times like these - his safest place, his heaven, but also his battleground, his own little personal, huggable, kissable hell. Though, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Come on Sungie! Please at least try the water.” Y/N chuckled and kept Jisung’s foot in his hand, locking up his ankle in his grip so he couldn’t scurry away. Jisung wasn’t moving anywhere, though, both paralyzed with fear and suffering in this constant of craving Y/N’s touch, never wanting to waste a moment of laughter and smiles, play fights and scuffles for shared clothes or cell phones to hold for ransom. “I signed a peace treaty with the rest of them, they won’t try to waterboard us - at least most of them won’t, Haechan’s always a wild card…” Y/N gestured toward the rest of NCT Dream, still managing to find new ways to dunk each other underwater, splash each other into oblivion and refusing to let each other live.

“I appreciate the trouble you went through signing a peace treaty,” Jisung started with a faint smile as Y/N’s idle tread in the water brought him slightly closer to Jisung. He didn’t even try to wriggle from Y/N’s grasp, and nudged Y/N’s side with his other foot. He also knew that Y/N didn’t have a problem intermingling with the rest of NCT Dream’s chaos, and because of that, the peace treaty was for Jisung’s safety only.

Jisung found so much wonder in the way Y/N seemed to have any situation wrapped around his finger in moments - his mere command of space made him irresistible, and part of the reason Jisung fell in love with him when he did. Y/N was someone who’s able to make their quiet moments so calming, beautiful and singular, and all their loud moments that seared the sky so lively.

“But there’s no way that I can go over there and not have all their sights on me - they’re animals… I love them to pieces, but they’re wild and crazy and unhinged. You give them anything close to a murder weapon, and then will use it.” Jisung said with a rough whisper that dragged a couple giggles out of Y/N, Y/N let his ankle go and he let his legs float to the surface of the water. “You dragged me out here in the first place, you know! Forcing me outside to get some sunlight and oxygen and shit. And you said it would be enough if I stayed like this!”

Y/N considered it, how he pleaded for Jisung to leave the comfort of the lounge area just outside the bedroom they ended up sharing. He did indeed remember how he managed to coax Jisung out of hiding, by promising that he had to do no more than dip his feet in, no body contact with the water above the knees. However, pulling Jisung into the water, right here, right now, with Jisung off balance, prone, his legs sticking out right on either side of him, the pool wall for leverage against anything Jisung could do to try and pull himself away. It was too perfect to pass up, and before Y/N could even weigh his options of keeping themselves wrapped up in this secluded corner of the pool, the sounds of utter chaos on their periphery, or dragging Jisung into the pool and watching with a twisted smile as Jisung’s villain origin story began right there and then, he already found himself taking Jisung’s legs in his hands, grip tightening.

“Nothing’s ever enough, Sungie.” As Y/N said this, Jisung knew that there was no way out, nowhere to hide. He just needed to prepare to meet the salt in the water, the bellowing of screech-like laughter, and the way Y/N would smile so teasingly at him - he just hoped that he had enough spite and yearning for revenge in his system by the time he was done soaking in Y/N’s smile to still chase him down and shove him into the water. “I’m insatiable.”

“Please have mercy! I have kids-”

“NO MERCY!”

And with one rough tug that was done before it was felt, Jisung was brought flailing helplessly into the water, instantly rising with plumes of splashing water around him, sputtered breaths and his hair drenched, hanging in front of him in one limp, heavy flap of darker brown. He felt the blunt sting of the chlorine and simulated salt in the water rush in and out of him, and he rose and tried to find Y/N by his laughter and the sounds of the other Dream members coming closer with chatter of pure awe.

Jisung pushed his hair back with a grimace, blinking away the water trembling on his lashes, and Y/N finally got full perspective on what he had done and that cute, plush-cheeked monster he had just awakened. Y/N hasn’t known Jisung for long, and they’ve been the way they were - drawn in helplessly to each other - for even less time; however, in each other’s arms, at the ends of each other’s loving words and adoration, was a stage that was set for all sides of Jisung that Y/N didn’t even know could exist.

Not when Y/N was a trainee, fresh off auditions, catching Jisung and his kind, quiet heart whenever he’d drop in to help him with dances; not when Jisung shuffled up to him one sleepless night and held Y/N in his arms to comfort his exhaustion despite how soaked in sweat he was; not when Y/N finally debuted and he began to see the beginnings of Jisung’s wit prick at the end of their conversations and banter off camera; not ever.

But now that they took more than they could manage off camera, Y/N’s been a witness to all of Jisung’s wildness, unhinged and unencumbered craziness - all the ways and emotions that Jisung’s been too self conscious to release anywhere else. He felt safe with Y/N, he learned that every early on, how secure Y/N made him feel. With this safety, however, came many impromptu parades through moonlight expanses past curfew, careless, laughter-filled fights on rented hotel sheets, forward, intense, longing kisses - as if Jisung wanted nothing but to take in the light from Y/N’s smile - that Y/N never knew Jisung could hide behind such such a gentle presence.

This was exactly one of those moments, exactly how they unwound. The chaos of the rest of Dream’s celebration of Y/N dragging Jisung into the water, the jagged waves that signalled them pulling at the water toward Y/N and Jisung to force them into whatever they were doing, it all fell to the background. What existed between Y/N and Jisung was that singular frame of quiet before everything unravelled, whenever Jisung’s voice got low, burrowned beneath Y/N’s skin in a way that Jisung always knew Y/N liked, and whenever that silence, tension - whatever it was - was pulled so taut between them it could snap in a second.

“You better run, Y/N.”

Everything fell away but the sound of Y/N’s heartbeat in his ears. Jisung’s stoic silence, the water dripping from his hair, trailing down all the places Jisung begged for Y/N to kiss regardless of the hickies they would’ve needed to hide - it was all so deafening, nearly horrifying. “Oh shit… I released the kraken…”

Y/N, nearly starting at Jisung’s sudden dash forward, made a break for it despite the rest of Dream blocking his way. The moment Mark and Jeno, who were at the front of the crowd, caught Y/N’s terrified expression, they knew exactly what was happening. They tried to make way for Y/N, give him space to make it as far as he could, Jeno even tried to hold Jisung back a little bit, but no force could slow down Jisung’s direct b-line toward Y/N, not even the cameras catching all of this from multiple angles - all the camera staff, managers, and especially the other Dream members, having the time of their lives watching this unfold.

“No! Please!”

“You said no mercy, bitch!”

Jisung caught Y/N by his wrist and pulled him into his arms, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s neck and clutching his waist to keep him stuck in his grasp. Y/N knew he was caught the moment Jisung reeled him in and didn’t fight it. Whenever Jisung managed to catch him like this, held him close like this, he never wanted to fight it - just feel Jisung’s weight against him. He supposed that he was meant to tremble in pure fear - only partially true - and he guessed he was going to screech at the ways in which Jisung might throw him into the water - which Y/N most definitely would - but Y/N loved these moments so much. And Jisung loved them even more.

It was that tinge of tenderness in all their rough-housing that made everything between them taste so sweet no matter what they were doing, no matter what everyone else saw.

Drawing Y/N even closer, turning away from the cameras by whipping Y/N around and chuckling at the way Y/N yelped in his arms, Jisung pressed his lips to Y/N’s ear, his voice a low murmur - something he hoped even subtitles couldn’t catch.

“Hey.” Jisung whispered, his arm around Y/N’s neck tightening teasingly and his caressed Y/N’s hand with his own under the water - interlacing fingers warped by the water’s colour.

Y/N could feel Jisung’s hand holding his, caressing his, but he wanted to say anything he could to avoid as much collateral damage as possible - and hopefully avoid teasing from the rest of Dream about Jisung being able to toss Y/N around like a ragdoll. “Yes my lord? The most divine of all things, the-”

“Shush, I know all that already.” Jisung let out a breath and squeezed Y/N a little bit tighter, not wanting this moment to end - but it had to, the cameras were zooming in on what looked like a struggle for power. The rest of Dream’s laughter was finally seeping into their little bubble of ripped space and time. Jisung needed to say something fast before he planned to sweet Y/N into the water with a triumphant smile. “It’s just… I’m happy you’re here.”

“Jisung~” Y/N smiled brightly, holding back from kissing Jisung right then and there. But this moment between them allowed Y/N to regain his footing, edging his foot right behind Jisung’s heel - Jisung wasn’t going to have Y/N that easily… “I don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Before Jisung could smile in response, Y/N already swept Jisung off his unsteady stance on the pool’s tiles and shoved him into the water. Water practically geysered up around them, and Y/N could feel Chenle grasp at his shoulders, Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, and Jaemin filing in to join in on their chaos.

Y/N’s been pretty good at sweeping Jisung off his feet nowadays, and he’s sure this isn’t going to be the last time.

There’s so much of the say still left; the sky’s still blue. Y/N has time to leave Jisung reeling, have him wondering if there’s any limit to how much he could adore a single person in this universe.

The sun was beginning to set, leaving its fiery kisses to dance along the clouds sparsely stretched across the sky, and Y/N and the rest of NCT Dream were still exhausted from their shenanigans in the pool during the afternoon. The sunlight on their skin, soaking, caught in their hair like droplets of water, was nearly as tired as they were, and the cameras lazily followed them around their vacation home; Mark, Haechan and Jaemin in the living room, Jeno and Chenle sleeping, Renjun sitting on his bed, staring out the window and listening to music, and Y/N and Jisung sitting outside, enjoying the last breath of colour the summer’s sunset gave them.

Jisung had a hard time believing that there was a point where he didn’t want to leave the house, ever since the camera staff and Y/N dragged him out of bed, pulled him into the pool, and put him between a rock and a hard place as a referee, he could find a single part of himself that wanted to go under that roof. He wanted to enjoy as much of the sun-stained air as he could with Y/N in his arms, and the glow of the burning sunset wrapping around the stray, nearly pearlescent beads of water that trickled down Y/N’s neck.

They were always so caught up in their schedules, held by figurative gunpoint by scrutinising camera lenses and cooped up in practice rooms, green-screened sets, layers of walls, buildings, pale-lit corridors, crowds of staff and managers. And due to this, they never really got to go outside and take a breath, at least without the looming fear of being caught sneaking out into moonlit meadows and abandoned parking lots to do so. Sitting on the same wicker chair, Jisung on one side, Y/N on the other, their legs overlapping and Y/N’s foot tapping absently against Jisung’s leg, they stared out wordlessly toward the colours of the sky and took in the silence - all the spaces in words, sentences, entire pages they’ve rushed to write and fill in for themselves.

Throughout their friendship, and early on into whatever relationship they have now, they always felt the need to compensate for the noise that drowned out their time with their own song. They needed to always be doing something: Loud conversations over instant ramen, fragmented conversations over dance practices, ‘double dates’ to night markets and deserted street food stands with Shotaro and Sungchan - they always felt the need to fill in the gaps of the silence in fear of losing the little time they had together.

Now, though, feeling this weight lifted off of them to constantly find something to say, they enjoyed the quiet between them that said just as much as they could - the quiet of Jisung’s arm around Y/N’s waist, fingertips gently caressing Y/N’s side, the quiet of Y/N’s own arm draped around Jisung’s shoulder, the patter of his foot knocking into Jisung’s. They were finally okay with feeling the quiet, its loose, unravelling sensation.

They could tell that the camera was lingering on them, and by the time they made it back to their shared room, Jisung pushing Y/N onto the bed as soon as the cameras shut off and tackling him before he could regain his balance, they’d already be thinking about what kinda captions would be plastered on screen.

Their sweet reprieve was bent, cracked open slightly, by a couple camera people walking toward them and asking Jisung to take his outstretched leg off the edge of the firepit - they were going to light it, bring all the NCT Dream members together so they could participate in one of their ‘bonding activities’. Jisung claims to not be much of a sentimentalist, words are sometimes hard for him, feelings difficult to read, but Y/N always teases Jisung for how much of a sensitive softie he is whenever they’re together - all the passionate, meaningful, sincere things he says, they make Y/N’s heart swell in a way he never knew it could. Y/N would always get so flustered whenever Jisung would pull him in and in one suave fell swoop, whisper into Y/N’s ear that Jisung just needed the right person - Y/N was his right person.

The rest of NCT Dream were filing out of the house, wrapped up in hoodies, jackets, blankets and beanies, whatever they could find to weather the chill of the darkening sunset and bask in the irony of the fire’s warm glow. With the rest of NCT Dream filling out their chairs, Renjun and Chenle finding an eighth chair to pull up before Y/N reluctantly scooted off Jisung’s lap, they sat attentive to the camera people giving them notes for the activity. They were assigned one member each to give a heartfelt message to, and half the members were already sheepish, stumbling under pressure, and others were wincing at needed to lay their feelings over the campfire like this.

Mark gave one to Haechan that left Haechan egging Mark on for the rest of the night, teasing him relentlessly; Renjun received Jeno; Jeno spilled his words quickly and shyly over the campfire’s glow, but his words still shone; Jaemin received Chenle, turned to him and gave a message that left Chenle bushing, a searing red on his cheeks masked only partly by the amber light of the fire put; Chenle rested a theatrical hand on Jisung’s shoulder and dolled out backhanded compliments Shakespeare style; Y/N received Mark, and struggled to gain momentum, still feeling a little bit awkward voicing his admiration in front of the group like this, but it didn’t stop Mark from gawking, yelling affections across the campfire and back to Y/N.

Finally, everyone was looking to Jisung, and, by process of elimination, everyone was preparing themselves for what he was going to say to Y/N. The rest of NCT Dream - hell, the rest of NCT as a whole - absolutely adored the way Y/N and Jisung existed on their own plane of existence, smiles and touches and embraces, whispers and inside jokes and sweet nothings, all trapped in this annoyingly, frustratingly adorable vacuum. Despite Y/N and Jisung’s best efforts - which, frankly, were barely efforts at all - they’ve been caught several times cuddling in practice rooms, feeding each other half-frozen tteokbokki over kitchen counters, even sneaking quick kisses right out of frame of laggy hotel room live streams like madmen.

They were so proud to not only see Y/N fitting in seamlessly with the rest of them, and of Jisung for findings someone who seems to so effortlessly tear apart his walls and inhibitions, but for the both of them for finding this comfort in each other that was nothing but beautiful to watch and see, and most definitely tease them about.

Jisung, flushed already by the gazes of the other members on him, looked over to Y/N, who kept his eyes low, tracing the patterns in the stones of the fire pit. Watching Y/N avert his eyes shyly, nudge the ground with the tip of his run down trainers, Jisung felt a smile seep through his contemplatively pursed lips; having Y/N here felt so right, as if NCT was meant to have him fall right into their arms at the exact moment he stunned everyone with his talents, and found his way into a spot on NCT’s roster.

The road to where Y/N was now wasn’t always the easiest, it was rocky, peppered with jagged, rough patches where Y/N wanted to do nothing but give up, collapse into a pile of sweaty clothes and withered dreams on linoleum floors. Y/N’s constantly restrained fears and doubt nearly overflowing, bursting at his weathered seams, he’s felt so uncertain about where to settle his weight in the group, scared that one wrong move would shatter everything he’s worked so hard for.

What if the members didn’t like him? What if he was going to be run off his position in Dream by people who didn’t think he deserved it? What if that odd, uncomfortable tension that Y/N and Jisung initially sparked with each other would never fade away? What Y/N aws that one weight that would tip the scales of NCT’s delicate balance and leave everyone struggling to carry his burden? Questions like this haunted Y/N, a shadow Y/N could never shed for the longest time - and sometimes, on nights where Y/N can’t seem to shake himself off, these doubts parade relentlessly, tirelessly in his head.

“Hey, Y/N…” Jisung started off, his voice receding in on itself, stumbling over Jisung’s tongue as he trailed off with awkward laughter that left everyone else giggling around him. “We’ve really grown a lot, haven’t we?”

Y/N, with a small smile, looked up to Jisung, watching the way Jisung bit his lip as he pieced his words together. It was always so natural for Jisung to sing his praises for Y/N, but this time he really wanted to say something. He loved Y/N - Y/N was the first person who ever made him feel this pure, relentless, deep, profound type of love that left him reeling - and he wanted this to mean something.

“Our journey to where we are today hasn’t been the easiest one… When you were first announced as a new member of Dream, and when you first walked into that practice room with all of us staring at you, I was hit with a lot of conflicting emotions… But all I know now, looking back on it, was that I was immature, didn’t know what to think or how to act and because of that, I gave you the cold shoulder - we fought a lot, and I know that was the last thing you deserved. You were so stressed about so many things, and I just added onto all the weight on your shoulders at the time because I was struggling with and unsure of how to make you feel welcome - I literally did the exact opposite, I made you feel like an outsider - and I'm really sorry.” Jisung took a breath, far from done. “I’m so happy that we’ve grown - I’ve grown - and we have each other in the way that we do now. I’ll speak for everyone when I say that you being here is a blessing - it felt like you being in this group was always meant to be, and that piece in the group that we always felt was missing was filled as soon as you walked through those doors. You shine such a light on us, surround us with so much positivity and happiness, and sometimes I ask myself if I deserve you.”

Jisung caught himself and the weight he put on that last claim, his uncertain eyes flicking up to see Y/N smiling timidly into the fire’s light. Everyone watched them shuffle closer to each other, stare into each other’s eyes, and with a flourish, a sweet smile and a hand reaching over to take Y/N’s, Jisung continued when Y/N squeezed his fingers back.

“I don’t know the answer to that question yet, but all I know is that we do have you, I have you, and I feel so fortunate that you’re here. I don’t want you to ever question your place here, this is your home, I’m your home, and now that you’re here with us forever, I’m gonna do my best to take care of you…”

Y/N kept his eyes on the ground for a moment, as feeling the weight of Jisung’s words left him unable to pick them up any higher. Things were good now, things were borderline seamless with the way Y/N’s been invited into NCT, involved in all their activities, taken in by each of the members and made to feel as if he belonged there. But he couldn’t help but find his memories of how he started out creep back into his head every now and then, the stiff awkwardness that left Y/N on the other side of practice rooms, days subsisting on lukewarm water and loops of NCT music because he didn’t want to cause a fuss, sleepless nights on practice room floors wondering what he did wrong whenever Jisung would’ve brushed him off for the second time that day.

Despite how everything has changed, Y/N still thinks about those moments and feels uncertain about his place here, in the middle of NCT Dream - a group that’s been seven for as long as he’s admired them from afar, and for as long as he’s been training under SM with no hopes of making it any further and no place to go back to if he left. Everything that Jisung just said, every word hitting Y/N like one of Jisung’s nudges to his chest, felt like a massive breath of relief. Y/N knew that the relief and ease was there, it was apparent enough for Y/N not to hesitate before sitting down at tables or between Jeno and Jaemin on couches. But it was still blurred around the edges, as if all this peace and flowers after the rain could be snatched away in a second.

Y/N was so used to living in this state of oscillating bliss and fear of losing everything he had - not knowing if he deserved it all. But Jisung was here, his hand in Y/N’s, telling him that he did. He deserved everything, he deserved the world and as much as Jisung could ever give him.

There was a thoughtful silence around all the members, and Jisung looked away from where he was stroking Y/N’s fingers, down to the floor and shuffling his slippers against the stone flooring. However, something brought his head snapping back up, a bitten-lipped sob that tore the quiet between the members by the corners.

“Y/N…”

Y/N stifled another sob in his arm and tried to push it all back, but he couldn’t. Before he knew it Jisung was shooting out of his seat to wrap himself around Y/N, and Y/N was burying his face into Jisung’s shoulder, letting Jisung pull him out of the seat and feeling his arms wind around Jisung’s waist. “I… I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Don’t be sorry.” Jisung felt his breath tying a knot in his throat as well as he could feel Y/N’s shaking hands steady against him, his suppressed cries nestling in the curve of his neck, all the sadness, tension, doubt, and insecurity Y/N held in weathered hands struggling to let go of all of it at once. “Please don’t be sorry…” Jisung felt his voice crumble, slip out from under him, and he brought Y/N closer, even closer to him.

He shut out all the collective ‘aw’s and coos whipping up around them like the cinders and sparks from the campfire in the middle of them, and felt nothing but Y/N’s hitched breaths against him, the warmth of his skin as he pressed his lips to Y/N’s neck away from the camera’s view. Even as the other Dream members closed on them and each other in a group hug, a couple of the members’ hands reached to mess up Y/N and Jisung’s hair, smooth against their backs, Y/N and Jisung felt nothing but each other.

Feeling the last of the sun’s light drip down to the horizon, the camera people wrapped up the shooting for the scenes outside and left NCT Dream as they were, one massive tangle of embraces by the remains of the campfire. They moved inside to begin recording footage for the rest of the evening inside the house.

“All these emotions are making me hungry…” Y/N murmured into Jisung’s shoulder and heard everyone laugh with them. He felt everyone unfurl themselves from the group hug except for Jisung, who stayed close, arms around Y/N’s waist, and followed the rest of NCT Dream into the house for the night.

Just before going back into the house, Jisung tugged gently on Y/N’s fingers to bring him around and away from the glowing ivory lights of the kitchen. They could already hear Jaemin bellowing out ideas for dinner, and knew that Chenle was reaching into the fridge for things that he wanted to make regardless. Taking Y/N’s hands into his own, kissing Y/N’s knuckles in a way that always made a bright smile bloom on Y/N’s lips, Jisung looked into Y/N’s eyes with a small grin of his own. He was trying to think of something to say, to break the stillness of the darkening sky wrapping around them - maybe he pulled Y/N away from the others for a moment just to watch the serene, final breaths of the sunset’s shine against his skin. Sometimes, looking at Y/N was enough whenever Jisung fumbled too much with his sentiments.

Y/N took a breath and shuffled closer to fill in the space between them, already thinking of how to say what he knows Jisung is probably thinking - he’s used to doing that, finishing their cut-short sentences, making sense of all of Jisung’s incoherent but beautiful ramblings. He nudged Jisung’s cheek with his nose, and earned a chuckle and a smile stretched wide in return. “I really appreciate what you said, Sungie… It meant a lot to hear that.”

“I…” Jisung let his hands rise up on instinct to Y/N’s face, fingertips tracing over the violet shadows the sunset cast over Y/N’s face, his lustrous eyes, sweet smile. He wanted to take it all in right now. “I’m not the best with words, I guess… But I could still feel you thinking about it sometimes. I just want you to know how much I really love you.”

‘Love’... It wasn’t a word they necessarily used often, and that was mostly because they hardly knew what it was. Their only exposure to it was when they first walked into each other’s lives, through those practice room doors where Jisung felt this magnetism, this gravity about Y/N that he’s never felt before. Now, though, as they’ve spent more time together, they understood that it wasn’t just a feeling that kept them reeling each other back in, pulled toward each other’s hands, and kept their gazes drifting to each other throughout practices. It was something precious, something that only bloomed in Jisung for Y/N, and something that only bloomed in Y/N for Jisung. It was their special little treasure, this revelation that they never had to share with anybody.

They didn’t say that they loved each other often because they didn’t really know what they were to each other. They were two people who shared this intense, unyielding love for one another, but relationship wise, they were too overwhelmed with what they were supposed to call each other. They shared time, affections, words and stories they’d give to nobody else, pieces of their heart, their love, they just never got to that point where they wanted to fill in that blank in what their relationship was really supposed to mean. However, when they did say that they loved each other, in those passionate moments of quiet, where the space between their bodies was completely closed and their lips hung off their breaths and the corners of their smiles, it was a reminder of everything they were and all the things they still had room to be.

“I love you, Y/N… I love you so much.” Y/N was Jisung’s everything - and so, Jisung resorted to calling Y/N his everything, that person who encompassed every single part of his life in ways he could never imagine. “I mean it when I say you’re my everything, Y/N, and I’m gonna do my best to be your everything too.”

“You’re already my everything, Sungie… You don’t need to try.” Y/N brought his hands up too, holding Jisung by his cheeks and caressing at the edges of where Jisung’s flush began to fade under the sky’s copper light. “You’ve been my driving force ever since the day you could finally be in a room with me for more than five minutes.”

“Y/N~” With exasperated laughter, Jisung rested his forehead on Y/N’s, nudging Y/N’s nose with his own as his laughter curled up into sheepish shrieks. He shuffled closer when Y/N brought his hands down, fingertips caressing Jisung’s edges so delicately, and slid them into the pockets of Jisung’s sweatpants. “Oh my God… I was such an asshole…”

“It’s okay though. You stopped rolling your eyes whenever we spoke and I was instantly turned on.” Y/N hid his face in Jisung’s hands as their giggles intertwined and whipped up into the air, their voices like the flames of the campfire that were just starting to die down. Y/N smiled even brighter, thinking about how Jisung still rolled his eyes when Y/N spoke - almost all the time at this point - but it was out of sheer determination not to melt at everything that Y/N said instead of feigned indifference now.

“I hate the way I made you feel…” Cupping Y/N’s face with his hands, Jisung’s gaze wandered over everything - the shimmer in his eyes, that upward turn in his lips that just waited for a smile, the glow in his skin, the starlight between his teeth that’s singed every inch of Jisung’s body at this point. They’ve grown so much in such a short time, yet there were things about Y/N and all his radiance that Jisung knows are going to remain forever and constant. “I have no idea how there was a time when I wasn’t completely head over heels for you.”

“Well, now that you’re head over heels for me, I guess we don’t have to worry about back then anymore. If you’re not gonna let me worry about everything from the past, then I won’t let you do it either.” Y/N rocked on his toes and hummed as Jisung tipped his chin up, their lips barely a flicker of setting sunlight apart - petals of fractured moonlight, withered violets of another evening gone by, they had no space to bloom between them.

They entwined their lips, the stars in their endless smiles colliding in a way that felt like everything was falling into place. Every one of their kisses was like this. The long and slow ones on their few off days in Jisung’s empty room; joyous and erratic ones dotted in between play fights on practice room floors - whispers of ‘I love you’s before Y/N would pin Jisung to the dirty laminate floor; quick ones in split second before the camera starts recording; and the ones soaked in sapphire moonlight that they wouldn’t trade for the world. Every single one felt more perfect, burned more blissfully, and drowned their senses, leaving them numb and idling in each other’s gravity, even more than the last.

They pulled back from each other, the aftertaste of strawberry sunsets, velvet skies and honeyed sunlight singeing their lips just as Jisung dove in for another. Y/N, nearly breathless, in the way that Jisung always left him, leaned into his chest and felt the sunlight finally burn itself black, trickle down past the horizon, the sky darken over them in one cool, blue breath.

“By the way, I love you too…”

“I was wondering when you were gonna get to that.”

108 notes · View notes

nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

begin again; johnny seo

(10,742 words) - large

summary ➣ Y/N and his ex-boyfriend, Johnny, thought they were finished after their break-up. However, they meet again for the first time since splitting at Y/N’s graduation party, and they begin to think that the love between them isn’t as beyond saving as they thought.

genre ➣ fluff ( + angst )

requested - 👍 by @xavi-in-kpopland

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Y/N trapped a runaway sigh in his locker as he fastened it shut, tugging at the waistband of the jeans his boyfriend, Johnny lent to him as they made their way out of his bedroom. Johnny would always advocate that his jeans hung around Y/N’s waistline in the most perfect ways, in ways that would lead Johnny to fail miserably at holding himself back from keeping his hands on Y/N’s hips. All of Y/N’s whines about how they always sat a little lower than he wanted would be cut off by deep, sickly sweet kisses that would burn Y/N from the inside out - light him up until he implodes like a star.

Those kisses would always lead them back to Johnny’s bed, the pants that sparked their debates on how beautifully they danced along Y/N’s waist, the only thing left clinging for dear life on Y/N’s body as they’d make themselves far more than five minutes late for their first class’ bell.

With every time Y/N walked into Johnny’s house, crossed the thresholds of all the doorframes they’d press each other up against, Y/N realized with a smile that he always left with more of Johnny’s clothes on him than his own. He laughed about it even now, as he fixed his textbooks under his arm and felt the thick waves of his - Johnny’s, rather - hoodie’s fabric submerged him for a split second. The feeling of Johnny’s clothes of him, swathing the silhouette Johnny would carve into the night skies with his teasingly gentle caresses, it was not comforting and exhilarating, a bittersweet thrill that left him craving for more. Shadows of his clothes would still ghost his skin, as well as the fires set alight against him as Johnny would help him peel them off, then bring Y/N’s hands up to do the same for him.

Y/N didn’t notice how long he was staring vacantly at the peeling blue paint of his locker until he felt arms wind and curl around him, sweep him off his feet and leave him stifling a yelp into the neck of his assailant. He felt his pulse leap beyond the emptiness of the school’s hallway as he breathed in the cologne hung from their neck like a necklace, one that’s enveloped so many of their memories, memories both clear as daylight and blurred as the moonlight’s haze. It was Johnny, who was always pulled in by Y/N’s irresistible gravity no matter how late they were for their first period’s class.

“Hey, love.” Johnny’s hands slipped into the back pockets of the jeans he lent Y/N, his favourite pair to see draped against Y/N’s waist. With a little squeeze, he brought Y/N onto his toes, craning his neck to meet Johnny’s lips halfway.

Even now, as what the school’s general populace considered the ‘highschool sweethearts’ - the idealist’s dream of the forthright, loveably arrogant football player and the guy he’s head over heels for - they used such visceral, intimate language for each other as if they already have the ings to prove their forever intertwined futures. ‘Love’, ‘baby’, all their claims of being forever intertwined; things like that never left their tongues, even when they were between each other’s teeth by the sunlit bleachers or on the bed in the corner of Johnny’s room.

“Sorry, I know we split up as we left the car, but I just can’t resist you.” Johnny mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder, bringing his hands up to wrap around Y/N’s waist.

Sometimes, with the way they spoke to each other, it took a minute for Y/N to digest it all and spit it back up to give Johnny more than a tangle of flustered half-words. Every heavy vow of adoration, dense and sweet and lingering goodbye in the middle of hallways that would part entire crowds, all the ways that they seemed to spin their own stories in the silence of everyone else and gained so much attention with all their public affections, Y/N needed to bite it all back at points. He loved Johnny, Johnny loved him - well, at least in terms of what they assumed or thought love was at their age - sometimes, though the thrills and the sparks and all the energy and fire that followed each and every one of their minutes together became less like a rush and more like something Y/N needed to catch up with.

Sometimes Johnny would wait for him to catch up, and other times Johnny would leave Y/N in that figurative dust, wondering if he could take everything that Johnny was giving him, doing with him, or if he’d burst at his seams.

Those were very few times, though, as all the excitement that bubbled beneath his skin, just waiting for Johnny’s whispers against his ear as they walked down hallways, calls to him from across the football field during his practices, or times he’d sneak up behind Y/N and tie their fingers together, was always waiting for Johnny.

“Can you resist me for like, a couple hours please? We really need to head to class.” Y/N wondered as he stared into Johnny’s eyes - sparkling like the city lights they’d sometimes be able to catch on the horizon whenever Johnny would drive them out to the edge of town - how he became the person he is now. The person who’s won the love of the most popular guy in school, the person who everyone loves or hates, wants to be or wants to be with. He would only be able to question his place in Johnny’s arms for so long, though, before Johnny would hold him tighter, kiss his cheeks as if he knew, and claim that he’ll never let go. “I swear, if I’m late for one more history class, the teacher’s gonna literally have my head.”

“What you’re asking me is literally impossible.” As much as Johnny loved to have Y/N in his arms, and despite how many times Johnny’s kept Y/N beyond curfew, school bells, sunrises, Johnny couldn’t help but finally give in to the silent plea in Y/N’s eyes. “Fine~” Johnny relented, loosening his grip on Y/N only the slightest bit, still holding back every single one of his urges to press Y/N up against these lockers and steal his soft, gentle words from under his tongue. “You’re lucky I'm a good boyfriend who wants to see you graduate.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/N smiled at Johnny’s pout, but he knew that raising himself up to kiss it away would only lead to further disaster. “Thank you, Johnny, for allowing me to go to my classes in order to graduate this year.”

“You’re welcome, my dear, I deem you worthy of graduating.” Johnny wanted to let out a chuckle, thinking about how this last year of highschool is only just going to be a small step in the grander scheme of their haphazardly laid out lives. However, he couldn’t help but feel his casual sarcastic drawl wilt and hitch a little bit, as he remembered how far away Y/N was going to be - heading to a different college than him after they graduate.

They only have so long within walking distance of each other, only so many days left until Johnny can’t just swing by Y/N’s house and spend their nights cuddling in the back seat of his car. Days standing in Y/N’s backyard, being there to hold Y/N by his waist as he taught him out to sneak out his back window for the first time, their regular snack raids at gas stations and nights with Y/N in Johnny’s arms as they chatted up Johnny’s football teammates by the plaza by the school, couldn’t simply be at their disposal, right at their intertwined fingers anymore.

It scared them, both of them, how far away they would be from each other. How much would they change in the flickers of time they would usually be spending with each other. How about when those flickers of time would fold out into weeks, months, perhaps? They didn’t want to think about it, they wanted to live here, now, where they ruled the kingdom of this suburb and this school from the thrones that were Johnny’s car seats and the toppled trees they’d perch themselves on to watch the night sky from the town’s edges.

They want none of this to change, they want everything between them to stay the same for as long as it can.

“I still can’t believe we’re gonna be graduating in a few weeks, though.” Johnny caught Y/N by his fingertips before they could finally split up and head to their classes half an hour late. They’ve had this conversation countless times; whether their gentle, cautious words into each other’s skin be lit by the sunrises they couldn’t sleep through or sunsets they held in each other’s hands, these conversations led them toward the same tied up emotions. Being people of the present, grasping fully onto the seconds they had right in front of them and nothing more, the future worried them more than they wanted to admit. “It feels like we just got together, and now we’re gonna be cities away from each other.”

“It’s not like we’re gonna die.” Y/N squeezed Johnny’s hand, moving back within arm’s reach and letting Johnny curl his arms around him once more. This was the side of Johnny that nobody ever saw - the tremble beneath the sun’s light, the waver in the moonlight’s gravity - nobody in this school really took the time to know Johnny - the star quarterback, legend and myth among the school. This was the side Y/N knew best, though, the side that needed a type of comfort and warmth that only Y/N could give him, the side that ran out of breath after running away from the days so quickly. “I’m always gonna be with you, Johnny. It’s just college, and it’s just a few cities, it’ll just take me a little bit longer than a flash to get to you.”

Looking back at when they first locked eyes at one of Johnny’s football games - Y/N dragged against his will by friends he doesn’t have anymore to catch ‘the hot dudes doing sports’ - Y/N never knew how far that smile Johnny flashed him in the middle of their game could have really taken them. Turns out, what seemed like a coincidence, a lucky strike of being in Johnny’s line of sight at the right time, took them farther than he ever thought.

What’s a little bit longer, a little bit further? They weren’t going to stop at being the resident high school sweethearts that burned out the moment they swung the doors of real life wide open. They were going to be more than what anyone thought they could be.

“Johnny…” Y/N tried to catch Johnny’s eyes in his, wincing at the thought he could see writhing within them. “Babe.”

Y/N’s voice caught Johnny’s attention, and he looked down to see Y/N shine a small smile - the one that Y/N returned to him that day on the football field, and the one that made Johnny realize that he didn’t stand a chance. He brought Y/N in closer, tipped his chin up and tied their lips together. “I know, I’m worrying for nothing. College isn’t going to change us, it’s only going to make this - you - that much more special to me.”

“See? There’s nothing to stress about, and there’s nothing that can separate us.” Y/N ran his hands down Johnny’s arms, nudging Johnny’s nose with his own and grinning as a smile finally began to bloom on Johnny’s lips. “I want to see that smile for four more years. After we get our degrees we can be miserable.”

“God, you talk so sexy…” It took everything for Johnny not to kiss Y/N one more time, knowing that if he got started on the sunlight that Y/N held between his teeth, he knew he couldn’t stop until second period. He just caressed Y/N’s cheeks, tucked a lock of hair behind his ear to get a better look at those wondrous, shimmering eyes, and thought about how they’d be waiting for him after they graduate, on the other side of train station doors and subway stops and halfway points between their colleges. They’ll spin gold out of whatever straw they’re given, Johnny’s sure. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

For some reason, as Y/N draped himself from Johnny’s neck in a long, solemn hug, this moment - this smattering of split seconds as they looked into each other’s eyes and rounded their respective corners to head to their halfway-done classes - was already starting to feel like a goodbye to all the things they’ve known, all the things they’ve said they can’t live without.

A goodbye they are far from ready for…

Y/N was back at his parent’s house after four years away at college, trying not to feel too suffocated by the sheer mass of people that piled up in his living room and kitchen - people who have come to celebrate his graduation, his survival of one of life’s greatest, most unthinkably formidable challenges. Granted, it was by the skin of his teeth and thanks to an unhealthy daily regimen of caffeine intake, but it was survival nonetheless - survival on Y/N’s terms, at least, as much on his terms as he could manage.

However, those four years that seemed to fly by so impossibly quick - fleeting blinks that left Y/N with flickers of exhaustion and gratifications - yet seemed to last so long and overstay their welcome, were behind him now. He’s graduated, he’s managed to change by the whim of the world he’s finally caught up to, or at least likes to think he’s caught up to, and he’s overcome so much that’s required him to peel away from old habits that would’ve left him lost if he wasn’t force to mature and adapt.

So much has changed, and Y/N could still feel the aches and stings of the growing pains that came along with each and every thing that shifted inside of him. The absences, the new presences, the way all the things Y/N’s come back to after so long feel so differently under his hands now - the breeze’s softness, the edges of his petals one of his favourite people used to scatter in his hair as if they were the only people in the world, the colours in the sky that would stain his fingertips - everything just felt so different now. Part of Y/N was thankful for that, but another part, one that lingered deep in the crevices of Y/N’s heart, longed for things to be simpler again.

Y/N was alone in the corner of the living room, straying away from the clangour of all the pre-party festivities that were going on by his house’s main entryway, and staring out his old bay window. It was a place that housed all his childlike thoughts, akin to a second home that was within his first one. He could still remember when he was small enough to fit on the small cushioned seat nestled at the base of the window, and he remembered when he wasn’t too big to be yanked by his waist and pulled between his old love’s legs as he’d squeeze into the bay window’s seat and claim that Y/N’s eyes had all the stars he needed - the only windows to the outside world he’d ever need to look into.

All of Johnny’s precious words, all of his heavy and careless touches, all the time they spent together, all the time they wasted promising each other, and all the memories that still take up so much room in Y/N’s head… It was all nothing now, all cast into the wind, scattered in faded memories across the distance between them - not just physical anymore. Even the way they simply seemed to phase out of each other’s lives after the first and last college party they attended together, it was all a smudged, incoherent mess that Y/N couldn’t make sense of, even now, three years after it happened.

It took all of Y/N to not let out a sigh of defeat as he looked out to the cars among his driveway and saw the only one that he knew would never be here, at his house’s curb, ever again. He wants to train his eye on nothing in particular, just stare at the spaces between the cars and catch nothing but empty pavement and neatly trimmed grass. However, he can’t help but look at the spaces between the cars without thinking about Johnny’s filling up one of them.

The same car that’s housed many of his sleepless nights, the same car whose back seats probably still have the scorch marks from when he and Johnny burned through each other upon the town’s borders. He hasn’t seen it since Johnny peeled away in a stupor after an argument that left them both scared, wounded and marred in blood they never thought they’d be able to spill. Whenever he's taken into a back seat to take care of unfinished business after parties, whenever his friends swing by his apartment to pick him up and practically drag him into the car, using their arms around Y/N’s waist as his seatbelt, the thought of Johnny picking him up all the way back in high school, his knight in shining varsity jacket, loomed over him ever-so-briefly until he noticed it was there.

“Hey.” Y/N startled to attention, caught out of his reflective daze, as someone jumped onto the couch next to them and looped their arm around Y/N’s. By the gentle brightness in their voice, Y/N could already recognize who it was; the person who always knew how Y/N was feeling, who always knew just when to come to Y/N’s aid, who was a place of comfort in a time where Y/N didn’t really know what things like ease really meant. “You’re missing all the before-party fun! Even your aunts are pre-gaming with us.”

It was his friend, Taeyong. Once they were passerbys at a random on-campus party, sharing nothing but solidarity for their academic struggles and one too many drinks; now, they were brothers in arms, who shared late nights painfully sober over textbooks and flickering lamplight, splurging on late night snacks to keep them conscious for the sunrises they would make sure to catch together at the top of Taeyong’s apartment building. During school, they were suffering and cynical and exhausted beyond belief, but they had each other - Taeyong’s affinity for holding hands when he’s tipsy and Y/N’s terrible jokes. What more could they want?

A semi-stable sleep schedule, perhaps. But they knew only six months in that wanting that was nothing but wishful thinking.

“Sorry…” Y/N trailed off, and looking over into Taeyong’s inviting eyes and annoyingly patient and sweet smile, Y/N knew that he couldn’t just get away from Taeyong without getting anything and everything off his chest. “It’s just… I thought coming back here would be a relief, but instead, I’m getting shit-loads of memories that I thought I moved on from already - ones that I’d rather not keep.” Y/N didn’t realize until now, how sporadically he’s become overridden and overwhelmed, by these memories of Johnny - the beginning of their end, and what began from their ending - that have been left to scatter about every inch of this town. It always seemed to come in short yet relentless bursts of regret and frustration and sadness and confusion.

The moment Y/N drove back within the city limits that he and Johnny always vowed to burst through once they grew brave enough to free themselves from what they were used to knowing, everything he and Johnny have done together, all the ways they cherished each other, came rushing back to him, submerging him, leaving him stranded for air.

All these thoughts were so suffocating, and it was as if Y/N had no choice but to relive them - he thought he had moved on, cast these thoughts away and made nothing of the so many somethings that he and Johnny were to each other.

“You mean Johnny…?” Taeyong didn’t know Johnny that well, he only heard of him in passing from his mutual friends who lived at the same frat house Johnny was in - surprisingly, never from Y/N until Taeyong finally convinced Y/N to tell him what was going on with these intense and frequent bursts of negativity he was experiencing. To see Y/N experiencing something so intense yet indefinable tore Taeyong apart. “I know it’s easier said than done, but try your best to enjoy the party tonight. It’s all about you anyways, and we’re all here because we love you and we’re proud of you.”

Upon hearing Taeyong’s words and feeling his arms wrap around Y/N’s shoulders in one of his notoriously soft, comforting embraces, Y/N couldn’t help but shine a small smile - one he can’t help but give whenever Taeyong comes to him and rips him away from whatever he finds himself myred in. Still, despite Taeyong’s advice and all the effort Y/N wants to put into enjoying this party, he also can’t help but feed into his regrets concerning Johnny, and how they’ve left him scrounging for loose moments of peace like the change he never had.

“I know, not the best of Master ‘Yong’s advice. But I really don’t want you to worry.” Taeyong tucked a few locks of Y/N’s hair behind his ear before resting his head on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I won’t.” Y/N tried to maintain a determined voice, he tried to maintain determination in general. But he could feel it wavering already. “I mean, I’ll try to, Master ‘Yong…”

“That’s all we can ask for, young Padawan.” Taeyong leaned his head up and rushed to the kitchen, coming back with two shiny red solo cups filled with whatever mix of coolers he, Jungwoo, and Mark brought in from the liquor stores by the south side of town. “Here, some ‘ale of the wise’ to get you through the night. I already know it’s gonna be a doozy.”

They tapped their glasses together and took long, indulgent swigs of their drinks, feeling that oddly satisfying mixture of bitter, sweet and richly sour echo in their throats like it always did whenever they would settle in each other’s rooms, steal each other’s clothes, and pre-game as much as they deemed ‘socially appropriate’ for the next party they would head to in order to distract themselves from midterms.

What Y/N didn’t know, however, was how true Taeyong’s statement was actually going to be, how this night - with Taeil, Jungwoo, Mark, and Haechan already ganging up on Mark in the kitchen for joining a frat house - Johnny’s frat house; Y/N’s aunts already holding second drinks in their hands; Y/N uncles bragging about their nephew graduating college to each other, not knowing that they’re talking about the same nephew; Johnny at the front of Y/N’s mind and on the tip of his cooler-soaked tongue already; and Taeyong’s arm around his shoulders, his warmth doing as much as it can to help Y/N get through the calm before the storm.

Y/N was in for one hell of a doozy.

An hour into the late evening, the sky already drained of all its light as cheap strobe lights wedged into room corners bathed the house in its own iridescent sunlight, and the tumult of Y/N’s graduation party was already thrown into full force. Crowds of people ambled about the rooms, filling up corridors in the house that Y/N didn’t know existed even after years of living here. The bass of the music spilling out of hidden speakers shook the floorboards and left this perpetual ringing in Y/N’s head as he made his way through the party - wading through rough, relentless tides of salutations, embraces, and cynical rants about the future.

Taeyong urged Y/N to enjoy the festivities, to make due with whatever smiles his friends’ antics put on his face, feel happy, accomplished, relieved and proud. For an instant, fleeting moment, Y/N thought that the cup of mixed coolers Taeyong gave him was actually going to do the trick, sweep away all his tangled thoughts and unreasonable crippling feelings under waves of cheap alcohol and shitty simulated fruit flavours.

However, Y/N could start to feel everything seeping back in, slowly at first, as Jungwoo caught Y/N around the shoulders and roped him into a conversation with Mark, Doyoung, and Jaehyun - one of Mark’s plus-ones, a guy Y/N’s seen every now and then - about the frat house he joined. And then faster, making its way through cracks Y/N didn’t even know were within himself, as Mark and Jaehyun brought up the fact that they invited as many of their frat housemates as they could to celebrate Y/N’s ‘escape from hell’.

Y/N felt his heart drop and rise to his throat all in a single second, suffocating and nearly choking on his own hitched pulse as he connected the dots thrown in his face. Johnny could be here…

So much careened through Y/N’s head in a single moment, and he was caught looking down into his half-finished cup of booze that Taeyong fixed for him, finding his murky reflection and all the purples and greens of the strobe lights that scratched, gnawed and tore against his skin. All his thoughts were pulled in every single direction, tugging Y/N in every which way of disbelief, awe, surprise, sadness, abandoned hope, until his voice was worn out before he could even speak with it.

Johnny could be here…

Jungwoo tightened his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, apparently they asked him something, they all paused for him to fill in the blanks of their conversation - something that Y/N was usually so good at doing. Y/N was at a loss for anything, though, he kept staring into the ripples of his drink, the way it sloshed against the edges of his cup and left a faint, pink smear before fading away. Johnny definitely wouldn’t come even if Mark did invite him, their ending felt so calamitous, messy, definite - yet it lingers like a promise that wasn’t fully broken, a lie that was never told. But what if he did? What if he was around one of the corners in this house, talking to his friends, to his family, any of the people Y/N spent hours raving about to anybody who was unlucky enough to listen. What if he wasn’t here, what if he chose not to be here?

Y/N didn’t know how to feel about either of the outcomes he’s scattered about in his thoughts - which one to feel more hurt by Johnny’s presence or his absence. He felt Mark nudge at his stomach to get his attention and finally snapped his head up. They were all looking at him, and what used to be a chattering crowd of just Jungwoo, Doyoung, Mark and Jaehyun grew to tehm and Taeil, Yuta, and Haechan all yelling at each other.

“Uh, yeah totally…” Y/N stumbled over himself, shaking his head, still feeling himself too heavy with the weight of his heart dragging down on him to look up into the few concerned looks that were thrown toward him. ”Sorry… Just one second.” Jungwoo’s arm around him loosened as he gathered that Y/N wanted to leave, and Y/N parted with a stiff smile, trying to find someplace even remotely quiet, somewhere to even out the thoughts that left him staggering upon unsteady ground.

Y/N shuffled through all the vibrant, LED-dyed rooms, and finally found a place in the house where the music beat against him softest. Its jabs to his head, to the rushing chaos of his thoughts were just nudges now. He nestled himself into a hallway leading up to his childhood bedroom, yet another place where he and Johnny spent so much time doing things they swore to Y/N’s parents they’d never do without leaving the door open.

Hovering under the dim, fading, yet warm glow of the hallway’s wall sconce, Y/N let his mind run and wander, already feeling a creak in the floodgates of all the things he’s been subconsciously holding back for as long as he and Johnny have been apart. Second thoughts always ruined Y/N, left him gripping onto things he thought he’d have forgotten, yet here he was, thinking about how he and Johnny ended yet another time.

“Fuck…” Y/N murmured to himself, unable to keep all of it in. He needed to expel it somehow, but all he could muster was a meek, deflated whimper toward the ceiling.

He thought he had outgrown the promises Johnny would drape of his shoulders with his varsity jacket whenever Y/N got cold during their walks through town, he thought he had made amends with all the ways he and Johnny used to hold each other as if they were the only things tethering each other to the earth.

Johnny seemed to let go, though… He seemed to grow out of it on a whim, training himself on something else the moment Y/N left his life of sight during the party where everything crashed around them. Johnny was too old for ‘this’ - what he defined their relationship as in their fight on the curbside of his frat house. Their relationship of grandeur and thrills, and quiet professions of undying love that laid beneath the surface was apparently this juvenile, worthless bundle of hopes that burned out and withered away just like everyone said it would.

Y/N didn’t want to believe it until that one last look they shared before Y/N stormed off and Johnny drove away. However, all these doubts they never knew bubbled beneath now boiled over, shone in their eyes like a piercing spotlight now that they weren’t too naïve to know otherwise.

If they were always bound toward a destiny of implosion, of shining too bright, too quickly until they collapsed in on each other… Then why did it all mean so much then? Why did Johnny mean so much to Y/N if they were nothing to each other but empty promises and a grand vision of things they couldn’t see? Kisses behind bleachers, jackets around shoulders, crushed velvet, dirty converse, wrinkled moonlight, slow mornings that never started, roughly tender kisses that made Johnny groan into Y/N’s mouth; all of it, every single thing they’ve gone through, just didn’t mean a thing, then?

They were so much - meant so much - to Y/N. He knew they meant just as much, if not more to Johnny, too. At least until Johnny seemed to so haphazardly and effortlessly tear away all the things Y/N thought made them special with nothing but a few drunken scoffs and a look of indifference upon the things they once cherished. It was almost meticulous, how Johnny managed to pick their love apart - piece by piece - a dn leave nothing left but the ignorance and ego that everyone thought they were. That’s all they were after that party, a mess of theatrics and blind faith that crashed, burned, and went up in smoke.

“Hey…”

Y/N flinched as a voice pulled him so suddenly, yet so gently out of his stupor. He looked over to the second silhouette carving itself into the hallway light’s glow and nearly lost all of his breath, all the feeling in his tightened knuckles and liquor-drenched tongue evaporating into whatever air wasn’t already swallowed up by the music behind them. The figure’s shadows danced alongside Y/N’s on the walls, swaying by the edges of Y/N’s fingertips. It was almost as if the lights around them were remembering what Y/N’s spent the better part of three years trying to forget.

It was Johnny. Johnny’s here, right in front of him, right now.

He looked so much older, yet there are parts of him that still look the same as how their summer memories left them. The light in his eye, the slight flickers in his small, timid smile, the wonders that his hands held even without holding anything, the way he seemed to carve out the strobe lights that fell against him to fit his shape, how he fit in all his clothes.

That part in Y/N that still ached for the past was sure that no matter how much they grew, Y/N would probably fit the same in any of Johnny’s clothes. And the parts in Johnny that ached to see Y/N again, that longed for him in every way imaginable, wanted to be in a place in Y/N’s life where he can see Y/N in his clothes again, fabric hanging from him in all the best ways.

Y/N’s mouth was hung open, and he nearly backed up into the small, thin table where he put his drink. He steadied himself, though, catching onto the ends of the thoughts that the sight of Johnny, a Johnny all grown up in ways he could’ve never imagined, almost made him lose track of. The silence left after Johnny’s soft, cautious, nudge of a greeting was nearly deafening; it craved to be filled with all the words that were cut short from their last fight, all the things they had yet to say and didn’t quite know how to say at the time.

But they both found themselves lost for words, and simply just staring into each other’s eyes, taking each other in.

Somehow, Y/N looked even more beautiful than the last time they left each other on good terms. He grew into all the features Johnny used to kiss, drape his lips against as the moonlight fell against them, pooled beneath their hands. His eyes seemed almost negligible, he hadn't seen them for so long. Or maybe his last memory of the shattered streetlights in Y/N’s eyes left Johnny incapable of seeing anything other than the confused sadness that riddled them on the day of their fight, the day they ended things and made this silent vow to keep away from each other - carve out the place of their hearts that they took over. He didn’t know what to make of the emotions he could see stirring behind Y/N’s eyes, and he didn’t know what to expect when he leapt at Mark’s invitation. All he knew was that he wanted to see Y/N again, to make something more of what Johnny - in all his misguidedness - made them out to be in one single moment.

“I… Hey…” Y/N finally found his voice, but it was only scraps of what it used to be. His disbelief still swept the air out from under his lungs and he couldn’t find the right words to say as they all clammered for attention in his head at the same time. All the things Y/N’s wanted to say, waited to say for so long, were knotted up inside and he found himself uselessly rambling, fidgeting with his hands. Johnny’s hands - despite his distance at the edge of the hallway - looked so close… He wondered if they felt the same, if they’d give him any comfort at all, but he abandoned that thought with a vigorous shake of his head that nearly made Johnny flinch.

Y/N didn’t know what to think, neither of them knew what to say. They didn’t know if this wasn’t turning out like they’d expected or wanted, or if this was exactly how things were supposed to go.

“It’s uhm… I’ve-”

“I know, it’s been a while.” Johnny’s words crept out into the space between them, he’s never been this nervous in front of Y/N - Y/N was always a place of security and reprieve for him - but these were different times now, times that Johnny brought on not just himself, but Y/N too. He wanted to close the space between them, even just a little bit, but he already knew he was pushing it by just being here, but standing in front of Y/N after so long without so much as a cheesy good morning text for the last three years. “I got an invite from Mark to your party, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you since.”

Only since then? That’s all Y/N could think about; how Johnny’s only been thinking since Mark tossed him a wayward invite to Y/N’s party.

Y/N’s been thinking about it for as long as they broke each other’s hearts, for as long as Johnny wasn’t a part of his daily routine, and for as long as Y/N kept checking his texts in the places where Johnny’s number was supposed to be. Johnny’s absence was a spectre that never stopped haunting him whether he knew it or not. It lingered in the sting of every vodka-stained kiss he had afterward, it was found in every corner of every back seat he was pulled into as his friends took him beyond the town, beyond the city to wherever they were going to burn down with their recklessness next. Johnny and all he meant to Y/N never left, even after he did.

Johnny had to be thinking about Y/N too, at least that’s what Y/N hoped. He hoped me meant as much to Johnny and Johnny meant to him even despite all the things that stayed burning in the air of their curbside fight.

“Why…” Y/N’s voice idled like windless sails, his words falling behind his countless, piling thoughts. He wanted to flinch as Johnny made his way further into the doorway, closer to Y/N, but he didn’t, he couldn’t no matter how badly he wanted to react. His instincts still felt as they always did, drawn toward Johnny’s gravity.

And right now, thinking about all that happened between them, Y/N fought to pull himself away; he furrowed his brow, his lips curled into a frown as he finally looked up to meet Johnny’s eyes once more. They were filled with so much stoic sadness, so much regret that Y/N was never used to seeing.

Y/N continued though, tugging his words into place. “Why’re you here? I mean- I didn’t expect that you’d come…”

Johnny sighed as Y/N trailed off, the anger in his tone fizzling out in a puff of smoke that made Johnny wince. He wanted Y/N to be angry with him, Y/N had every right to feel betrayed, hurt, bitter, enraged. To an extent, it was what Johnny deserved for how he took out all his confusion, all his desperation to fit in out on the person who always made him feel like he belonged. Y/N’s pain was a byproduct of his mistakes, and he wanted to fix all of them. “Y/N, you have every right to be angry with me. I said some pretty terrible things to you and about us, so you don’t need to-”

“I’m not trying to.” Y/N cut Johnny short, letting out a sharp sigh as he realized that even Johnny caught onto the fact that Y/N couldn’t muster the strength to be as angry as he always thought he would be if this moment ever came. All he can feel is his exhaustion, the faint echoes and hums of his pain, that pang of sadness, that deep twisted knife of longing.

In spite of all the ways Y/N wanted to feel, he just missed Johnny. He missed him so much…

“It’s just… I just didn’t expect you here, that’s all.” Y/N’s voice was a little more firm, shuffling to its feet as Y/N leaned himself against the wall, fixing Johnny in his eyes again.

“I… I know…” Johnny tried to return Y/N’s gaze, but he couldn’t help but keep his eyes shifting to the twitching in his frown, his quivering hands, the way he absently prodded at the carpeted floor with his feet. Staring in Y/N’s eyes for too long, into the recognition of the scope of Johnny’s mistakes, it was like staring in the sun to a certain extent. Usually he could handle the brilliance of Y/N’s eyes - he craved it and loved it - but now it felt like less of a shimmer and more of a sunrise’s glare. “All the things I said, though… I wanted to come here and tell you that I’m sorry for everything I said. I wish I could take it all back.”

Y/N let Johnny’s words settle in, the weight of sincerity in his eyes, the smooth breathlessness of his voice, the turmoil in his features, the restless fidgeting of his hands. He took a deep breath, wanting so badly to nod, ascent, agree to something. But he shook his head, thinking about the things he said.

‘We’re supposed to be grow ups now, but we’re still acting like fucking children.’

‘We were nothing but a childish dream, the quarterback and the guy who thought nobody saw him… We were foolish.’

‘You’re holding me back, Y/N! I can’t do shit for me when I’m thinking about you!’

‘I honestly don’t know we understood what love was…’

‘We’re all the things everybody said we were gonna be, sweethearts who burnt out too fast…’

Their entire fight and Y/N’s frightened speechlessness passed by him in a flash, his head shoved underwater for a split second. He couldn’t even remember what he said back, if he did say anything back, or if he could. But everything that Johnny said; the look in his eyes; the way he bit into his lip so hard Y/N thought the was going to sever it; and how he took all of Y/N’s drunken and frenzied shoves to his chest: ‘fuck off’ Y/N cried, ‘get the fuck away from me’ Y/N shouted. It was all so clear, so potent - he’s reliving it all over again.

“But you can’t.” Was all Y/N said, looking down to the fibres of the carpeted floor. Johnny’s words circling in his head until he felt dizzier than the drink on the side table could ever make him.

“But I can’t…”

With the way Johnny kept his eyes on Y/N’s struggle to lift his head, it was almost as if he could hear the words too. Johnny thought about everything he said, how much he regretted it, how much it hurt to see Y/N’s horrified face as he snapped everything they ever had over his knee like a flimsy twig.

Being so close to Y/N’s pain, so close he could feel it choking him up and suffocating him, it somehow made it so much more real than it already was. He was never here to see Y/N’s heart shatter into pieces he still couldn’t find - he drove away before he could see Y/N fall apart, he’s been across the state for the three years that Y/N tried so hard to rebuild normalcy in his life. But now he’s here, standing in the full force of all the things he’s done to Y/N.

He wanted to step closer, take Y/N in his arms, share his burden, do anything for Y/N’s forgiveness - anything just to see Y/N be okay… But he knew it wasn’t that easy. He hurt Y/N, and Y/N wasn’t going to be un-hurt simply because Johnny wanted it to be.

“Everything you said really hurt me, Johnny, and it’s been eating away at me for the last three years.” Y/N couldn’t pick his head all the way up, his stare fixing on the way Johnny was wringing out his hands. He could feel his voice cracking, crumbling, but he didn’t care to pick it up, he was done with feeling like he was okay, he was done pretending to be fine when the best part of him all of the sudden decided that it didn’t want to fit Y/N’s shape anymore.

“I- I know… I know.” Now it was Johnny who was scrambling. He could practically hear the scratching of Y/N’s tears against his skin as they trickled down Y/N’s chin torturously slowly, and he scrambled forward to try and wipe them away. He raised his hands to Y/N’s cheeks, already feeling the burn of his tears against his fingertips before he could even touch his face for the first time in too long. This was all Johnny’s fault… “You mean so much to me-”

“Then why did you say all that shit then!?” Y/N’s voice practically snapped in half, broke off his tongue as he tried to shrink away from Johnny’s hands, but he had nowhere to go leaned up against the wall. Johnny stepped back almost instantly, feeling powerless, guilt submerging him, drowning him, stealing his breath away as he just watched Y/N crumble, completely helpless. “Why did you find literally everything and anything to say that you know would hurt me and break us up? I loved you, and - fuck it - I still love you, Johnny! I don’t give a shit what you have to say about us ‘dying out’ and losing our spark, I still love you.”

“I know I fucked up… I fucked up so badly.” Johnny didn’t expect to make it this far, he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. How could he make what he did okay? He scrambled for anything in that moment, scrounging around in the darkness, tripping over himself for any morsel of explanation he could find under the hallways, faint, warm glow. “But I still love you, and I always loved you.” It took everything in Johnny not to reach out and take Y/N’s hands in his, and without him knowing, his hands were already reaching out for him.

“Then why…?” Y/N couldn’t find in himself to keep his voice above a shivering mumble, and as he caught Johnny’s trembling hands making their way over to him, all his pain, all his will to resist suddenly faded. He inched his hands closer, threading their fingers together, and felt his head spin as all the pent up light they had in their hands suddenly ran between them. This feeling, this palpable, real, grounded feeling of having Johnny’s hands in his, it made this situation - Johnny showing up out of the blue to atone for everything he’s done to them - a little bit easier to grasp.

Johnny was here, Johnny was here to fix things. And it wasn’t just a cruel trick of the light or the universe laughing in Y/N’s face.

Y/N felt his voice die out as he fidgeted restlessly with the spaces between Johnny’s fingers, and he didn’t exactly know what to make of how Johnny caressed the back of his hands with his thumbs. He didn’t focus on that, he tried to. He simply yearned for Johnny to fill in the silence that Y/N left, to give him some sort of explanation.

“I…” Johnny bit into his words. Y/N deserved this, a reason, a light to shine in the darkness he left Y/N to wander through alone. Even though they both have a vague idea of what Johnny’s going to say, he needs to put it out there. “I was scared and confused and frustrated. I wanted to be someone I wasn’t, and I was so used to having you around all the time that as soon as we separated for our first year I had nothing and nobody to ground me. Being young, dumb, immature and edsperate to fit in left me being an asshole to so many people I care so deeply about - my worst offense was you. It didn’t matter to me then how much I loved you, I just cared about how much I wanted to change.”

Johnny shook his head, trying to fight back the tears of sheer pain as he realized he couldn’t imagine what kind of pain he put Y/N through, how all the things he said to Y/N about their relationship that were completely false lead Y/N down paths of so much confusion and anger. He couldn’t, he didn’t, and let his guilt strangle his sharp breaths.

He continued, “I found out that changing and growing up were two different things, and as I grew up, I realized all that I lost… I just never built up the courage to talk to you, reach out to you, because of everything that I said…”

“Johnny…” Y/N squeezed Johnny’s hands, felt all Johnny’s words suspend themselves in the air between them, and let them all sink in. It was everything he’s wanted to hear for the last three years, all the blanks that he’s struggled endlessly to fill in or figure out, and all the reasons hiding in plain sight. Y/N failed to keep another weak sigh from escaping him, wedging his teeth into his lip, and he couldn’t bear to look into Johnny’s eyes as he made his way closer, bringing the knot they tied between their hands to his chest.

“But I’m different now, I promise, and I’m so, so, so sorry for everything I did to hurt you, to cause you pain and make you feel lost, confused and frustrated. I’m surrounded by new people who don’t want me to change, I’ve grown up and I’m working to fix all my mistakes.” Johnny’s voice was low now, breaking under the weight of Y/N’s silence. The thoughts careening through Y/N’s head were whipping up a whirlwind around them; pounding at their heads, the warmth between their hands, the dying light in their eyes. “I want to be everything I couldn’t be for the last three years. I really want to be in your life again.”

“I…” This moment, it was everything Y/N wanted and needed and imagined on those lonely days where he had nothing to think about but Johnny’s absence. His mind, however, caught up to him before his hitched heartbeat could, and he found himself stumbling over this hesitance that boiled within him. Yes, he wanted this, he wanted Johnny here. But now that he was, could he take it? Could he be able to mend a wound that’s torn so deeply into him, faded into scars that he once felt like he’d never be able to rid himself of? “I don’t-”

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Johnny let Y/N’s hands go, and watched with a wince as they dropped lifelessly down to Y/N’s side. He could see all the pain in Y/N’s eyes again, rushing in like high tide, gleaming at him through strobe-lit tears stumbling down his cheeks; Johnny could feel his heart tearing, his own hands ripping it apart into the pieces he snatched away from Y/N on the curbside of that damned frat house. “This was stupid. I was stupid. I can’t just come back into your life like this and expect you to say yes-”

“Johnny!” As if a spark was lit in a mere instant, Y/N caught onto Johnny’s wrist before he could fully whip around and leave. “Wait!”

They looked into each other’s eyes for the first time in what felt like so long - this conversation felt as if they were reliving the ages they’ve been apart… Y/N found the strength he kept locked away in his weak, bruised heart, and his words ringing through the hallway made Johnny freeze and turn himself back around almost instantly, bending to the will of Y/N’s gentle grip on him and the desperation in his words.

Johnny was here, he was finally here. Y/N couldn’t let him slip away this time. “Stay. Stay here.”

“Y/N…”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I still love you.” Y/N’s voice sounded more stable now, his grip was still on Johnny’s wrist, though, and he nearly felt himself flinch as Johnny’s other hand settled atop his. He tugged Johnny closer, though, and felt the burn of a slight smile begin to emerge on his lips despite what he felt, despite how his voice trickled from his mouth and laid at a pool at their feet, the sadness in his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a curve in his lips. “You said some hurtful shit and it tore me apart, but somehow my love for you’s still floating around somewhere in my empty-ass head.”

They shared a chuckle, and Johnny took both of Y/N’s hands in his once more. “I’m sorry I didn’t come crawling back sooner… I’m really, really sorry…”

“It’s…” Y/N wanted to say that it was okay, but they both knew that it was anything but. They were alright with that for the meantime, though, not being okay or happy or perfect or alright. It was that stress to be content that left them pulled taut and nearly snapping in the first place, it was that motivation to constantly be fine that left them destroying each other, and it was that veil of ceaseless forgiveness thrown over all their issues that lead to the implosion of all Johnny’s doubts and Y/N’s insecurities. “I’m glad you came.”

They weren’t okay, they’re in pain, they’re weak and sad and frustrated; they’re angry, torn, conflicted, and on the verge of giving up on themselves, each other, and all the shit going on in their head. Yet they’re okay with that, they need to be okay with that.

“Me too…” Johnny found it in himself to match the small, crooked smile that Y/N began to shine, his own light beginning to flash from between his lips.

“So, uh…” Y/N bit into his lip again, struggling to fill in a silence that, ironically, wasn’t as stifling as the last. He forgot what smiling with Johnny could do to him, how it stung in such a blissfully bittersweet way. “Do you want a drink or something? Taeyong always seems to know where the good alcohol is.”

“I-I’m okay…” Johnny scratched at the back of his head. It seemed as if something was hanging from his tongue, words that he was uncertain of saying, and Y/N looked up, nearly startled as Johnny perked up with this brightness in his eyes. All the weight of their sadness and solemnity shoved off his shoulders for a moment. “I’ll just… Make due with whatever you have left on your lips.”

Y/N let his mouth hang open, staying wrenched ajar as another deafening fit of silence crashed into them as Johnny seemed to retrace his words and bite them back like cheap shots of vodka that brought them to all the best and worst places. Johnny could barely believe what he just said, how easily the words seemed to slip out from under his tongue, and he early staggered back at the sheer awe plastered on Y/N’s face.

This thick, suffocating feeling of remorse crept back into them. How could Johnny think they were normal, a safe space for flirting and nonchalance now that Johnny said sorry and how that they’re holding hands. He was never one for listening to the tone that a room sang, and he was always the first to pull away from anything serious back when his and Y/N’s world was nothing but the four walls of Johnny’s bedroom. Whenever there was a lull in Y/N’s hands threading through Johnny’s hair as he laid in Y/N’s lap, Johnny was always the one who would do his best to squirm away from the silence that crashed down on them; there was this need to be happy all the time, and Johnny didn’t want anything to tarnish that juvenile spark of never needing to face your problems.

Even when he forced all their childlike naivete on Y/N on that curbside fight, he, deep down, always knew that he was the one clinging onto a nostalgia they never experienced, yearning to stay rooted in this idea of never needing to grow up. And this restless clinging is what led them to where they were. All Johnny could do now was cut his deep sigh short, feeling the awkwardness in the air bite into him.

He didn’t notice, however, the way Y/N tried to stifle a smile behind bitten lips like he always did whenever Johnny said shit like that, whenever his voice lowered, burrowed beneath Y/N’s surface, and coursed through him with whatever smooth lines Johnny could think of to leave Y/N flushed and prone to tight hugs around the waist.

Johnny continued to wince at himself; however, it only lasted for so long as he finally caught onto the sheepish grin that began to timidly bloom on Y/N’s lips. As soon as it shone its flicker of light, the space between them that seemed to get only darker, brightened up in an instant. An air of faint laughter now soon embraced them, and Johnny felt this surge of bliss overcome him as Y/N’s slacked grip on his hands tightened, bringing him closer. It took everything in Johnny’s power not to stumble, stagger, feel himself go weak for the first time in the ages they’ve been apart.

“I see…” Was all that Y/N said, his voice taking on this coy, sarcastic drawl that nearly drove Johnny mad. That was all Y/N was giving him to work with!?

Johnny could feel a furious blush begin to flood his skin, sink into him in a way he’s never felt before. He was always the one who would get Y/N like this, and he never thought that would change - hands slipping into Y/N’s back pocket, sweet, hushed murmurs into Y/N’s ear, always finding a way to bring Y/N closer to him until they collided - he was the one who was supposed to send Y/N careening for the dark, starlit, suburban skies. But things have changed, he didn’t know what to expect anymore, and Y/N was now paying it forward in a way that left Johnny craving more.

He wished he liked change when change needed him most, when Y/N needed him most. But now he's here. Y/N wants him here, and the space between them is getting smaller and smaller. A slight nudge, a tip of the chin, a whisper into Y/N’s mouth, and they’d be back where they started, back to a beginning they never wanted to end.

“You see, huh?” Johnny could feel his voice settling beneath them and bit into it with a small cocky smile of his own. He moved closer, tentatively and slowly, until he had Y/N pressed up against the wall he was only leaning on. Johnny’s hand was right at his shoulder, almost guiding Y/N back to the wall upon an instinct they never truly lost in each other. “What is it that you see…?” Johnny leaned in and whispered into Y/N’s ear, his hand by Y/N’s shoulder pressed against the wall behind him - just like the old times when Johnny would have Y/N caged in his arms as the bell would go. It was almost as if they could feel that thrill now, those lingering moments where they wanted to be anywhere but the ‘now’ they held between one another.

Y/N raised his hands to Johnny’s neck, touch settling just beneath Johnny’s jaw as he brought his face back to where it lingered inches from his - their eyes locking and Johnny holding another shuddering breath hostage. “If you wanna get drunk on this,” Y/N nodded to the cup, then licked his lips in a way that kept Johnny frozen, transfixed, and left his hands with no choice but to grasp at Y/N’s waist. “You gotta hurry up and take it, can’t just get drunk on these lips alone.”

How plainly, how innocently Y/N put it with that radiant smile on his face, Johnny just wanted to take all that starlight and feel it burn through the, past their teeth, along anywhere Y/N would let Johnny get his hands on.

Y/N didn’t know the power he had, and Johnny sure didn’t know either. Just feeling Y/N’s words hang on his edges, drape themselves so teasingly against him, drove Johnny mad, sent his thoughts into a frenzy - and he hasn’t had a hint of the alcohol on Y/N’s tongue yet.

“I’d beg to differ, your kisses are addicting…” Johnny pulled Y/N closer, and Y/N tipped his forehead against Johnny’s. “I’m not kidding, I can get drunk on just your smile-”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

The space between them collapsed, buckled, burst, reduced to the slivers of starlight stretching over them as they tied their lips together, felt the crushed velvet of their mouths and tongues, tasted the honey of the sweet words they’ve saved for only each other. All their cluttered thoughts, inhibitions, doubts, fears, worries, all melted from their skin as they felt themselves trace over each other’s skin as if they never stopped. They let themselves sink into the tides of each other’s touch as Johnny kneaded his hands into Y/N’s waist and made his way up under Y/N’s shirt, and Y/N, his hands no longer trembling with a fear he no longer remembers, working up to Johnny’s hair, tangling it up in his fingertips.

The flush of Y/N’s skin against Johnny’s hands, it stifled his senses, burned straight through him as it bloomed beneath everywhere he laid his hands, everywhere he’s yearned to touch, to feel and to savour, as he felt Y/N’s kiss drag a rumbling groan out from deep in his throat. The sweetness of the cooler on Y/N’s tongue slipped Johnny’s mind the moment it pushed between Johnny’s teeth. All he could feel was the numbness, the blur of rushing emotion, as he let the blue dawn of their unforgettable mornings and the indigo nights they threw to the wind submerge him.

There was no safer place for Y/N than wound up in Johnny’s arms - he nearly let this feeling slip away from him. And as the sparks that rose to the back of their throats ignited in flickers of daylight between their lips, each velvety pulse of their mouths against one another, all they could do was give in to that merciless yearning and reckless abandon; daylight and shadows of their past barreling through them and leaving them breathless.

Their touches grew brave, restless and daring to find more things they could never forget, Johnny’s hands sailing the seas of Y/N’s waistline, where all his jeans hung just right, and Y/N’s touch trailing Johnny’s chest and running over where he’s sketched shapes and drew lines of moonlight into Johnny’s skin.

All sensation, their crash-landing from the stars where their kisses always took them, hit them as they pulled back. Johnny found where Y/N’s hands ran over his skin in trails of fire, took them in his own and held them in a knot above Y/N’s head - pinned against the wall they’ve nearly reduced to ashes. He caressed Y/N’s fingers with his own, and still wrung dry of all his breath, dove in once more for one soft yet deep kiss - a flicker, a glint of all the light they shone on each other.

Y/N just took a second to look into Johnny’s eyes as he leaned back the second time, brought their hands down and held them between their chests, their beating hearts they still couldn’t feel unless they focused. But they couldn’t focus on anything else but each other. “I missed you…”

“I missed you too, I missed you so much.” Johnny took the breathlessness in Y/N’s words and tucked it between Y/N’s teeth with one more delicate kiss. “But I’m here now, I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You better not after kissing me like that.” Y/N shone a radiant grin, and Johnny took Y/N by his waist and kissed the corners of his smile, feeling his heart leap as Y/N let out a brilliant chuckle. His eyes shone so fiercely, shimmered so brightly, and as Johnny took him in - took all of him in - he’s never been more sure about where his home was.

His home was where it always was, it was in Y/N’s arms, hanging by the threads of his fingertips, suspended in his gaze, or on the other end of his words and that sickly sweet voice that leaves Johnny craving for more. Y/N was his home, Johnny was Y/N’s - they were each other’s happy endings, and they were finally ready to fall back into the pages they haven’t completed yet.

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

the young royals; yoo taeyang

(9,599 words) - large

summary ➣ Upon a conversation where Prince Taeyang and his most loyal and cherished knight, Y/N, revisit their past, Taeyang struggles to decide if he’s ready to let his revelations out as their conversation comes to a close, and to let his last shot at telling Y/N how he really feels about him slip away.

genre ➣ fluff | royalty au

requested - 👍 by @alexsinsulin

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

A trickle of laughter rang throughout the indomitably large throne room, ringing against elaborately embellished walls, refracting of crystals hung from ornate chandeliers. Despite how small it sounded by the time that faint melody of childlike giggling reached the corners of the room, it still managed to stretch itself out and spread its colour across all the emptiness that the Prince - the next in line to inherit the crown tied to this entire room, this entire keep, this entire castle, and this entire kingdom - Yoo Taeyang, would complain about.

In fact, after Taeyang’s late father’s - the King’s - recent death, Taeyang’s a lot closer to the crown that he ever thought he could be. The ceremony is soon, and everything leading up to it has kept Taeyang trapped, ensnared in stress and panic and feelings of inadequacy that the weight of his crown always kept dragging behind him.

This room within the castle’s keep was usually solitary, barely inhabited, and with nothing in the room to make use of - all its contents barely even functional, ‘decorative’ Taeyang would say and ‘marvellous’, ‘elaborate’, ‘luxurious’ others would say - but ornamental, golden engravings and spires and expensive silk drapery. The throne wasn’t even worthy of the Prince, only for the king’s bouts of pondering and need for space.

The two figures within the room, therefore, needed to improvise and snag a few of the ornately carved velvet seats along one of the walls and drag them into the room as if they weren’t built from some of the most expensive wood, upholstered by the finest velvet and glossed over with a golden varnish that even Taeyang knew took considerable effort to get. They were now near the center of the room, Taeyang in a tall-backed armchair, feet kicked up on a small stool, and Y/N sat up straight, alert, almost rigid in a stool across from Taeyang - the Prince he’s served as a fully-fledged knight under for almost a year now.

Conversations with Y/N in this throne room, a place that usually only reminded him of loneliness, and emptiness, made everything that kept him awake at night slip his mind - as if it all never existed.

“What is it with you and near-misses with wild animals?” Y/N didn’t have his armour on anymore, he shed his mail and plating as soon as he could when his patrol and duties ended during midday, but he still couldn’t help but feel its shadow nip a thim, beckon an itch or two. He lifted an eyebrow toward Taeyang with a smirk that was more amused than annoyed, especially given that this drew too many parallels to how they met.

“Okay, you’re making it sound like a frequent thing!” Taeyang whined, no matter how much closer he got to the crown, no matter how much closer to getting that throne behind them - perched upon that dais as if it were looking down on them - to Y/N, he was still the child he met in the forest clearing behind the castle. “I thought that was why you loved me so much anyways.” Taeyang watched himself, pressing his lips together subtly enough that Y/N wouldn’t catch him watching his words almost too carefully. He hated needing to tread so lightly around words like that, but if he leaned too carelessly onto them, they might be having an entirely different conversation altogether - one Taeyang’s always wanted to have, but still doesn’t feel ready for.

“As your royal guard, your highness.” Y/N chuckled as Taeyang stretched his foot out to nudge at Y/N, and only laughed even harder as he swatted away Taeyang’s attack with a deft yet precise flick of his hand. As much combat and tactical and field training Y/N has done, he always walks into conversations with Taeyang knowing for a fact that it will never be enough. “I would prefer if you didn’t make near-deaths-by-wild-animals a personality trait.”

Taeyang puffed his cheeks out with a strained, huff sounding breath as he stretched his foot out again to nudge Y/N’s side once more, and smiling as Y/N let him prod against the tunic Taeyang got specially made for Y/N’s birthday. He draped his leg across Y/N’s with a dramatic sigh and slumped back in his chair, and recalled the day they first met with a smile as Y/N absently, wordlessly ran his diligent hands across the blemishes in his brand new trousers.

While many tried to embellish Taeyang’s recklessness and call it an ‘explorative spirit’, many servants within the castle walls would simply state his status as an immediate threat to society with how much of a nuisance he was to keep track of. The moment he was old enough to dawn his very own embroidered tunics and wield a frail training sword in his hands, he wanted to leave the castle - the break through its confines and explore, wander, discover on his own. This was often to the detriment of those who were set to look after him, as he was always begging and whining to head past boundaries and practice swordplay in the trees that skirted the back of the castle.

One day he managed to sneak away from his carers and make his way around the castle and toward the forest by the castle, with nothing to protect him but a gold-laced tunic, stockings and a hollow, wooden training sword strapped to his back by one of his hardened leather belts. He was barely a dozen paces in before he could feel this hesitance finally begin to trickle into his head, but he dove deeper into thicket through thicket of trees, losing himself among the countless spires of wood nearly piercing the sky.

As Y/N would later always say to describe Taeyang’s reckless abandon, he was ‘in way over his head’, Taeyang was soon lost - unable to find his way out. To a kid barely reaching his teens, it felt like hours tripping over roots of trees, flinching at any sound made within feet of him, even if it was the sounds of his soft loafers curling around stones and twigs. However, one crackle against the ground hung in the branches longer, heavier than the rest, and before Taeyang could meet it halfway, a bellowing roar of a wild boar shook Taeyang to his core, nearly the entire forest around him, too.

He didn’t know where to go, what to do. That training sword on his back may as well have been a blade of grass. He couldn’t do anything but let out a whimper as he scrambled to the side before the animal before him, just a few large bounds away from him, even decided to charge. As it did, as it trampled the ground before him and set itself to ram right into Taeyang’s chest, an arm swept under and around his and dragged him out of the way. He kept his eyes shut too tightly to see the boar running into the tree right behind where he was standing, splintering its trunk and dizzying itself in the process.

All he heard was a thud, a crackle of leaves and branches and the heavy breathing of whoever swept him off his feet, and when he found it in himself to open his eyes, to feel the world around him, he found himself in a completely new area of the forest. It was an edge where litter and mosses and exposed roots met the grassy fields that bordered the sides of his castle - he’s never been happier to see it.

“What were you doing in there? It’s dangerous!”

Taeyang looked up at his saviour, and by the looks and sound of it, the person standing above him, a thicker training sword at his hip and a determined yet panicked look in his entrancing eyes, was not much older than he was. Maybe even younger by the way the sound of his voice was just teetering off its childlike shrillness. Taeyang was on the ground, splayed out on the grass, the feeling of this mystery boy’s arms around him still keeping his chest wound up and tight.

“Hey, I’m talking to you! Are you alright?”

“I-I’m Taeyang…” Was all Taeyang could stupidly sputter out. Maybe his name would ring some bells? It has ever since his birth, maybe this mystery boy would recognize him, bring him home, maybe they could do anything but sit in this startled silence. Except, on second thought, Taetang didn’t mind the silence, it gave him time to mull over his lack of response to the mystery boy’s question, as well as the giggle that spilled from his lips as he stepped forward and lent Taeyang a hand.

“I’m Y/N.”

Nothing changed by the mention of Taeyang’s name, and Taeyang felt this massive subconscious weight lifted off of him somehow. Perhaps Y/N didn’t know what a Prince was, who the Prince was? And if Taeyang was being honest, he didn’t necessarily know the answer to both of those right now either. He took Y/N’s hand with a wide grin that drained the sunlight from the sky, and chuckled as Y/N matched him with one of his own. The next thing he knew, all his fear, his quick brush against certain death, was nothing to him but a faint echo as their conversation instantly skipped to the swords they had strapped to them and soon the clacks between them as they instantly began to fight each other with them.

Taeyang wouldn’t know this until later, but Y/N’s constant comfort, his ability to drain Taeyang of all his worries, would become a constant in his life.

“When I found out you were the Prince… I almost felt myself slip from reality.” Y/N widened his eyes as he looked down at Taeyang’s trousers, scoffing at the ways he already found to get cotton this expensive so dirty. Then again, Taeyang has recently tried to jump Y/N while he’s training alone by the barracks, and that never ends well for either of them - Taeyang on his back in the sand, Y/N pinning him down, his eyes rolling so hard he’s probably pulled a muscle by now.

Y/N almost forgot what it was like back when they were in this stage before their friendship, back when Y/N regarded Taeyang’s lineage, revered it. They’re so close now, that the crown comes as a second thought to them, it’s their bond first, the memories that tie them together, and whatever throne Taeyang were sitting atop next came second.

It didn’t matter what seat it was, Taeyang would always find a way to drag one right next to his for Y/N to sit across from him and fight against Taeyang’s poor attempts to start play-fighting on carpets worth more than both of their lives.

“Yeah,” Taeyang hummed wistfully, a chuckle cutting him short as he tried to nudge at Y/N again with his foot but had his weight completely thrown to the side as Y/N swept Taeyang’s leg off his lap. “But I still will never be able to forget the way you just didn’t know what my name stood for. You treated me like I mattered the same as you did and then kicked my ass with that sword. I’m pretty sure I still have the bruises.” Another burst of laughter filled up the emptiness in the room around them. Taeyang didn’t know exactly why he felt the rush he did when Y/N didn’t recognize him for his title, barely even cared to temper his voice or go easy on him in their play-fights by the edge of the forest, but later - now - he realized that their type of friendship was meant to be like nothing else he’s ever experienced. “I dunno, it just felt so grounding and moral in a life full of off-putting irregularity that’s pretty much my normal - as much as I appreciate being the Prince.”

“Yes, I’m sure nearly getting impaled by that boar was very grounding indeed.” Y/N rolled his eyes, grinning even as he watched Taeyang pout and slump back in his seat with a defeated whine.

“I’m trying to say thank you!” Taeyang threw his hands up, trying not to let his petulance break under the weight of Y/N’s laughter as he almost toppled over the edge of his own seat.

As time has built them up and worn them down and shaped and sculpted them, Taeyang’s found it more and more difficult to hide all the things Y/N made him feel behind pouting lips and petulant whines and broken breaths held in puffed out chests. Even sitting here, with the remnants of the morning’s light spilling through the throne room’s large but narrow windows and falling against Y/N in gentle ivory blooms of light, Taeyang could barely hold himself back. It was as if Y/n’s very presence is almost tortuous to him now.

“Was that what that was?” Y/N lifted an eyebrow with that signature smirk that practically etched itself into Taeyang’s mind. Ever since Y/N first shone it toward him the third time they met in the castle’s halls on the way to Y/N’s first day of knight training - when Taeyang’s begging finally got Y/N to stop kneeling to him the moment they met eyes - it’s never left his thoughts. Taeyang never wants it to change.

“YES!”

“Alright, if his royal highness says so.”

‘His royal highness’... Upon greeting countless memories of Y/N’s melodious voice drawing out every syllable in such a deliberately grating way, Taeyang didn’t know whether to cringe or smile fondly at them. Y/N hasn’t necessarily used it that much now - they’ve raided and pillaged that joke, burned it to the ground, by the time Y/N was knighted. However, Y/N’s always delighted to bring it back every now and then just to make Taeyang groan. Taeyang has this sneaking suspicion that Y/N knows how much fondness he hides beneath all his layers of visceral distaste for the ways Y/N’s teased him - past and present.

Y/N carving out those words brought Taeyang back to a memory so particular. And, perhaps, it was a moment where Taeyang knew for a fact that he wasn’t just a Prince, and Y/N wasn’t just going to be any other knight in his father’s army. He wasn’t going to be another armoured figure in the mass of hopeful cadets and squires, and that Y/N wasn’t just going to be ‘the mystery boy who saved him from certain death that one time’. He was going to be this recurring character in Taeyang’s daydreams, the trigger of so many thoughts and daydreams that Taeyang would let wander aimlessly for as long as his consciousness could muster.

Y/N was always more to him than Taeyang could ever conceive. Taeyang had a vague idea of what sparked everything he was feeling, and for how long he’s been holding all this suppressed weight to his words, but it all becomes so much clearer with every time Y/N’s relentless teasing would submerge them all the way to Taeyang’s golden circlet in nostalgia too inviting for Taeyang’s confined affections to withstand.

Looking at Y/N now, Taeyang can feel threads already unwinding, unravelling around him and all his admiration, all his frustratingly unexplainable feelings. They slipped, pulled at him, and came through, leaked out in ways only he notices.

His casual observations - the light on Y/N’s skin, the way he looks in his armour, those eyes, those beautiful eyes, his voice, the way he’s never lost his smile, his beautiful fucking face - they don’t feel so casual anymore. There’s now something sickly sweet staining every single one, something that Taeyang can’t get rid of - and wouldn’t dare to get rid of. It all started as he was allowed to sit in and watch Y/N on his first day of knight’s training, more specifically, when he managed to lure Y/N away from the crowd and brought him to a corner of his empty sitting area he knew nobody could see them.

“You requested for me, your majesty?” Y/N took timid steps into Taeyang’s sitting room, his voice hesitant to even strip itself from the safety of his tongue. He was nearly breathless as it was, his training rigorous, nearly ruthless compared to anything he’s ever known. A relentless ache battered through him as Taeyang turned toward him in an embroidered tunic, completely pristine, spotless compared to Y/N’s completely marred and dirt-ridden training armour.

“Y/N…” Taeyang rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and sat down on a rich velvet bench that overlooked the training yard upon a platform a few feet off the ground. The sunlight streamed down and lit up the cobbles beneath their feet, and Y/N looked around, slightly paranoid that people were going to catch him way too close to the prince. “You can cut out that whole ordeal now, nobody’s watching I assure you..” Taeyang gestured out to the field that was once filled with knights-in training - now completely empty, devoid of nothing but splintered training swords and a few helmets dented beyond repair. He watched with a small smile as Y/N let out a breath he’s probably been holding since Taeyang whispered orders to meet him in his sitting area.

It was almost as if something snapped or crumbled in Y/N, as an easy, weightless smile overcame him, the one that Taeyang was more used to seeing than not whenever they would sneak off to Taeyang’s personal study to fool around with the inks and papers. They’ve become much closer since their first encounter in the forest, and their second and third encounters in the castle - Taeyang should’ve known Y/N was a squire from the moment he was saved - Y/N’s fearlessness, the fit of his tailored squire’s tunic, the elaborate leather scabbard he slid his training sword into. It made Taeyang all the more interested in him, and it made getting closer, seeing each other more often whenever Taeyang would slip away from guards and get time to himself, so much easier.

“You’ve been training hard, so you can relax here if you like…” Taeyang trailed off, patting the space next to him. The sunlight streaming down in golden dapples practically made the velvet next to Taeyang shimmer, beckoning Y/N closer. Y/N barely hesitated, finding his space on a bench that cadets like him were barely even allowed to see, let alone sit on - especially next to the prince. Letting out another breath, Y/N looked up to Taeyang, only to see this glint of disappointment in his eyes as he squinted in the sunlight to get a better look at him.

“What is it?” Y/N asked, confused by the way Taeyang’s lips formed something between a pout and a sheepish frown. It was as if he wanted to say something, do something or ask something, but was scared of letting it out. Taeyang was the prince, though, wasn’t asking for things and receiving them on the spot pretty much his entire thing? Especially with how needy Taeyang was, Y/N was surprised by his hestiance, yet still waited patiently for his voice to finally pick itself up from the ground.

“You can relax…” Taeyang, although stiffly, gestured to his lap, “here…” His lips were tied up in a tightly wound grimace as he kept his eyes trained on the ground between his boots, fearful of Y/N’s response. They were close, but not that close, and Taeyang was worried that the silence between them was going to be pulled so taut, so roughly between them until their only relief would be found in the general’s orders to return to the field.

Taeyang’s fears and doubts were thrown aside, though, as Y/N soon responded with a playful smirk strewn across his face - one Taeyang will get all too familiar with seeing grace Y/N’s features.

Y/N kept his eyes on where Taeyang’s shaking hands gestured vaguely - an attempt at indifference that just ended up mocking it instead - and let his sheepishness flood his voice. “I don’t know if I should do that, wouldn’t favouritism from the prince kind of breach the crown’s integrity in our training?”

It took a while for Taeyang to realize that he actually got a reaction that wasn’t disgust, repulsion, or anything else that reeked of this tense, inoffensive discomfort that Taeyang honestly loathed more than anything else. In fact, as Taeyang looked up from his lap and his vision faded in and out of focus in the sunlight, he managed to catch this coy shine in Y/N’s eyes and a bloom of brightness in his narrow smirk. After what felt like a torturously long stretch of silence that consisted of nothing but Taeyang plucking Y/N’s words from the sky, turning them over, he finally shuddered and scowled as he finally began to hear the teasing beneath all of it.

“I’m not favouring you!” Taeyang whined, anything to cover up the blatant, obvious fact that their friendship definitely led to some sort of favouritism.

“Well, after this, I’ll investigate and see if anybody else has received an offer to lay on his royal highness’ lap.” Y/N giggled before lifting his eyebrow, craning his neck over the sitting area’s stone brick parapet and pretending to scan the field for roaming figures of his fellow knights in training. He looked back and soaked in the slight panic that Taeyang scrambled to hide under a scrunched up frown. There was nothing he liked more than watching the crowned prince, ‘his royal highness’, slipping up and nearly dropping the circlet nestled in his neatly groomed hair onto the ground with every time one of Y/N’s sly glances or crude smirks defied the respect he was supposed to give a person of Taeyang’s stature.

It was Taeyang’s fault that he inadvertently gave Y/N so much power with his constant berating of Y/N’s emphatic worshipping of him upon their first few meetings within the castle.

It took a while for Y/N to initially get over the whole ‘paying respect to the crown and royalty’ thing, Taeyang’s chastising for letting his reverence slip definitely made sure of that, but after it stuck, after Y/N let his sass and cockiness and jesting remarks carelessly slip out of him, screwing around with his friend, Prince Taeyang, became one of his favourite pastimes.

“Shut up and take a breather.” Taeyang turned away, arms folded and the ends of his words caught up in a huff-like breath. He still left his lap open, though, and as he glared out the corner of his eye, he caught Y/N’s hesitance and instantly opened his arm to welcome Y/N in. He hoped that Y/N didn’t catch how bright his smile of satisfaction was as Y/N finally leaned in and settled his head gingerly across Taeyang’s thighs. “I’ll make sure the general makes training more rigorous for you so you’ll need the rest.” Taeyang smiled triumphantly as he rested his hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“It is of the greatest honours to have thine lap as sweet reprieve from training, your majesty.” Y/N made an effort to nestle further into Taeyang’s lap with a small smile, the tart sweetness of his sarcasm soaking the air and drawing out Taeyang’s laughter. Soon enough, though, they had no words left to speak, no mocking or teasing left to recite into the sun-stained air around them. Y/N enjoyed the silence, but with the start of his knight training, he didn’t know how many opportunities they’d get to sneak away from their duties and spend more time like this; he was looking for something to fill in the silence, stuff in as much as he could into this slight window of time. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” Taeyang absently answered, fighting every urge to tuck that stray lock of slightly sweat-soaked hair away from where it dangled by Y/N’s eyes.

He won over himself, though - We’ve met literally four times, maybe on the seventh you could get away with it without him looking at you weird, Taeyang thought relentlessly to himself. But, also, he dared to think realistically, looking into the way Y/N stared at nothing in particular, maybe tracing the lines in the stone brick parapet like he did whenever he’d lie down on this bench and have nothing to do but wait for Y/N to slip away from his Lord to see him for what would be - by then - their third meeting within castle walls.

Maybe never… Maybe, no matter how many times they meet, no matter how many opportunities they get to become closer, they’ll never be more than friends on the verge of whatever’s bubbling in Taeyang’s stomach.

“Have you thought about any of the maidens recently?”

Taeyang didn’t know in which way Y/N’s question struck him first, struck him hardest. He had a hard time determining the different aches that climbed all of his body, suffocating him like those heavy tunics of decadent velvet that his father always made him wear to court gatherings.

“Maidens? Why?” Taeyang flinched at his own questions and the shock and sudden offense that laced his words. He stumbled to cover for the way his voice curved up and into the sky. Y/N didn’t even flinch, recognizing the way Taeyang choked on his words, he simply stayed there, resting on Taeyang’s lap, unmoving. “I mean no, not yet. I have other duties to attend to.”

“Ah, I see, the ordeal of maidens is far too frivolous for his royal highness.”

Taeyang snapped his head down to where Y/N let out a tired, yet brilliant smile. He slapped Y/N in the shoulder he knew would hurt more - his sword-wielding arm - and watched with glee as Y/N let out a soft groan. “You know I can get you and your snark terminated from your military troupe with nothing but a snap of my fingers, right?”

“Aw, well…” Y/N tried to brave through the ache, and Taeyang was quick to smooth his hand over where he slapped - he probably didn’t know how close Y/N’s body was to completely shattering upon impact with anything, even air at this point. He still kept his eyes coy, his voice laced with his golden sharpness like the copper threads that lined Taeyang’s tunic sleeves. “Who else would you have to rest in your lap?”

Unfortunately, Y/N had a point - even with the lap part… Y/N was the closest thing that Taeyang had to friendship anywhere, despite the people that his father pushed him to be congenial and amicable with, despite his blunders outside of castle walls as he met other heirs around his age. It was just never quite the same as everything that Y/N was to him back home, back here.

“I… Whatever- Stop looking at me like that! “ Taeyang realized the instant Y/N knew he won over him. He knew he had to get used to that more than he already was - Y/N winning over him - but he couldn’t. That slight fondness that flourished under his annoyance with every time he stumbled across Y/N’s triumphant smirks, he wanted to keep that. “But yeah, maidens haven’t been on my mind…” This conversation felt bitter on Taeyang’s tongue, though, different from the others they’ve had. He didn’t know what to make of it, and he wanted to switch the topic to something that would leave a better taste in his mouth, but something - a burning in his heart - wanted to dig deeper, dive deeper into this ache that fostered deep in his chest. “How about you?”

“I mean of course, I feel like almost everyone our age is looking at each other differently now.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Taeyang wasn’t even in control of his words at this point. His focus back on the way Y/N’s sweat-soaked hair dangled in front of his eyes, and how urges still rose in him to delicately push it back, back and away from the way Y/N’s eyes glittered with this passive happiness that always idled there.

“His royal highness is very curious.” Y/N looked up with a crooked smile, earning a scoff from above him.

He lost track of how long his head had rested in Taeyang’s lap - he liked it. He shuffled onto his back and felt Taeyang’s hand that rested on his shoulder fall to his mail-covered stomach. He didn’t care much about the weight of Taeyang’s touch against him, in fact, he didn’t mind it at all; his focus laid on the plunging neckline of Taeyang’s rich, purple and copper tunic, and how the ruffled collar of his undershirt practically bent to Taeyang’s will, fitting perfectly around his neck.

“Well yeah,” Y/N took a breath and continued, matching Taeyang’s small smile as he looked down to meet Y/N’s eyes. He didn’t notice, though, how quickly Taeyang’s lips loosened at its corners once Y/N’s gaze drifted over to the way the sunlight glanced over the stone tiles beneath them. Taeyang braced himself for Y/N’s musings, his stomach already beginning to twist up, shy away from a pain he didn’t know he could ever feel. “There was this one girl who meet my eyes in the hall by the dining hall - we couldn’t pull our stares away from each other, then there was that girl who helped me wax my training armour, then the girl I was paired with to train against those straw dummies by the targets.”

Taeyang finally realized what all this fire under his skin meant, what that ache he felt biting into him as Y/N drew his breath to talk about the girls within the castle walls. It was his first taste of jealousy, and his first realization that he held Y/N in a regard that he never had with anybody else before. Nobody else made him gravitate in this way, everything he could need revolved around him and the crown, not the other way around, but Y/N - all of Y/N - seemed to shift that gravity in a second, leave Taeyang wanting and needing and missing and longing, feeling nothing but this bitterness whenever he can actually see Y/N out of his reach like this.

These feelings, these indeterminable blurs of emotion, they all belonged to Y/N.

Taeyang wanted to find a way to shift all the weight from off his chest, to make it easier to support a smile against Y/N’s haphazard one. “I’ll make sure she takes your spot at the ceremony.” He smiled as Y/N flinched against his words, looking up with awe-stricken, nearly pleading eyes.

“Hey!” Y/N snapped his hand up and slapped Taeyang’s chest, but didn’t realize until too late what he just did. Friend or not, he just hit the Prince. Not even seconds after he tried to bring his hand back down - his arm frozen in the hair out of pure shock - and Y/N was already tripping over himself, scrambling to lean up from Taeyang’s lap. “Oh… Oh my… I’m so sorry… I…”

Taeyang held Y/N down by the shoulders, though, catching him with as wild and angered a glare as he could pretend to make. “You dare inflict harm upon The Prince!? I condemn thee to execution!”

Everything hung in the air after Taeyang’s declaration.

“Really-”

“No! You twat…” Taeyang reached down to make even more of a mess of Y/N’s hair, finally making an excuse to tuck that unruly lock of hair behind Y/N’s ear, away from his face. He felt Y/N relax almost instantly, as many held breaths as Y/N could fit in his chest all leaking out at once. With all the jokes they toss around like nothing Taeyang would have expected more of Y/N, but, despite how Y/N forgoes all the courtesies that come with worshipping the crown, he still carries the faintest amounts of respect and chivalry.

He was already perfect, Y/N was already Taeyang’s knight in shining armour.

“Wait…” Y/N, now sure that he wasn’t standing inches away from certain death by gallows or anything like that, began to pick apart Taeyang’s words with a sinister smile that Taeyang was already bracing himself for. “So you said I had a spot at the ceremony?”

“You bloody-”

A smack to Y/N’s mail-armoured chest was cut off by the stiff and serrated call of the General, commanding all squires to fall back onto the training field. Y/N shot up with a gleeful smile, scrambled for his training sword and bid Taeyang a rushed wave farewell, Taeyang barely even had the time to muster a frustrated glare or call back, or even let out an irritated sigh before Y/N was already gone, rushing to join the fray that collected by the field.

All Taeyang could do now was look over the parapet and into the field, where he could barely make out Y/N from the rest of the crowd as soon as he slid his helmet on, undoing all the inner turmoil and conflict Taeyang underwent in order to finally build the courage to fix his hair. However, he never truly lost Y/N, he could pick him out of a crowd of ten, of hundreds, of the entire kingdom if he had to.

Y/N’s stolen glances up to where Taeyang was sitting also helped. Taeyang didn’t know for sure, but he hoped Y/N shared his smiles whenever he threw them his way.

“I still remember the knighting ceremony, you know.” Y/N leaned back in his seat, stretching out his legs out as he could already see Taeyang’s sheepish expression begin to take him over. He felt himself smiling at it, the way he kept peeking over the King’s shoulder to catch Taeyang shifting in his seat, a suppressed smile stretched tightly across his lips as he did his best to hold back his excitement for Y/N’s knighting.

Despite the embarrassment that resurfaced with every time Y/N would bring up Taeyang burst at the seams, struggling to hold himself back for the hours that the knighting ceremony lasted for, all Taeyang could feel was this overwhelming pride. He was just so proud of Y/N for making that far - he knew for a fact that Y/N was going to become one of their most well respected knights. Now that Taeyang is close to becoming King - his coronation is within the next week or so - he might finally be able to rope Y/N into joining the royal guard. The only reason as to why Y/N hasn’t become the royal guard’s treasured member was simply because Y/N wanted to stay where he was - Taeyang respected that to an extent, but that didn’t stop him from pleading to his late father every opportunity he got.

“You almost embarrassed yourself several times in front of all the castle’s people. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” Y/N chuckled to himself, remembering so clearly how he stepped up to the dais to get knighted by Taeyang’s father, only to see Taeyang’s bitten-lipped smile, hands under his thighs to prevent them from shooting up into the air, and jaw tightened in order to fasten a whoop of excitement down to his chest. “But, speaking of, someone else here’s gonna be having his very own ceremony soon…”

Y/N looked up, the glimmers in his eyes something in between apologetic and casual; compassionate. Y/N’s gaze whenever it settled on Taeyang, it was always so compassionate. Taeyang fought so hard for the flush he could feel welling up beneath his skin to stay there, not show in his cheeks, neck, around his ears where his hair would always stick out from under his circlets. He didn’t know how long he could hold back all these emotions from Y/N - at this point, even the weight of Y/N’s eyes on him was too much to bear without feeling fires twist up in his stomach, tie knots in his throat.

It felt like he was drowning, submerged in his own unintelligible mess of thoughts and feelings, and he didn’t know when he’d ever be able to breach the surface. There was an instance where Taeyang was really close, thrashing fingers meeting the waves’ threshold for one moment that was gone the moment he could feel air against his skin. Maybe he should’ve said anything then, when the light shining through the castle windows hit Y/N the exact same, in the most delicate, effortless way as ivory sunlight spilled down Y/N’s chest, fell against his skin and lit up his smile in a way Taeyang couldn’t conceive.

That moment in particular, was when Taeyang realized he had nobody left, nobody but Y/N. It was the day of his father’s death, the day Taeyang understood what the golds and royal blues in his blood really meant, who he really was and who he was now forced to become. He never felt the weight of the throne on him until that moment, and he was so close to buckling under it all, snapping his crown over his knee and abandoning everything he knew. He was only inches before breaking until Y/N caught him, held him still and reminded him to keep his head up, not let the crown fall from his head - how the crown fitted perfectly, it fitted his boundless ego.

With everything Taeyang was supposed to amount to, all the things set in line for him that looked more like rows of dominoes, ready to fall, he simply accepted the fact that he’d never be good enough, and that his father’s only child would be a disappointment to the crown’s legacy.

But Y/N’s endless support, his reminders of how much Taeyang deserved, mattered, and how much Taeyang was truly worthy of, assured Taeyang that Y/N knew him more than Taeyang could ever know of himself. He was ready, he was deserving; there was going to be a lot of pressure, the weight and demands of an entire kingdom rested on his shoulders, but with Y/N there to steady his hands, he realized that he could hold the entire world in them if he wanted to.

It was at that moment, Taeyang, his vision a blur of tears as he felt himself curl up in Y/N’s arms, could still see the soft smile on Y/N’s lips, the comfort that radiated from his mere presence, the softness of his voice, the way his hands held Taeyang’s tear-stained cheeks and swept his tears away with the weight of a spring breeze. They were so close, their lips were so close, their gentle smiles were so close, Y/N’s body was so close to his… A flicker of sunlight between them and everything that left Taeyang restless would be set to flames, reduced to ash, and all the tangled feelings wound up in him would snap.

But they didn’t seal their fates between their lips. Taeyang just pressed his forehead to Y/N’s as he held Taeyang by his neck, stroking back his hair in a moment of silence that was so profoundly blissful, yet so painful at the same time. Taeyang’s feelings weren’t just an ephemeral sparkle in the sky like the stars were to the night, they were this everlasting and intense mark on him, like the sunset’s colours were on everything it kissed goodnight. He didn’t like Y/N - those smiles as Y/N rounded corners to meet him, and his frowns as Y/N disappeared back around them to leave weren’t just affection. He loved Y/N, he loved Y/N more than anything he has ever known.

From that point, though, Taeyang didn’t know for how long he’d need to bury all of it under layers of petulant whines, stifled sighs and scrambles to take back the slips in his wording.

“You know, when dad died,” Taeyang fidgeted with his fingers, taking a breath that felt like embers on his tongue. “I didn’t think I could do it - take on the burden of the crown. I have the trust of all my people in my hands, and the only things I can think about are all the ways that I can fumble it - that trust…”

Taeyang didn’t feel how tightly wound his fists were until he felt Y/N’s soft touch open his fingers back up. Y/N took Taeyang’s hand in his own, gave it a reassuring squeeze without taking his eyes off the ground.

“I didn’t think I was worthy,” Taeyang continued, smiling down at Y/N as he watched him grab Taeyang’s other hand, pulling Taeyang closer toward Y/N by the delicate grip he had on his wrists. Shuffling forward on his seat, Taeyang leaned forward to rest his forehead against Y/N’s, a gesture they’ve always shared in tender moments such as these, yet the gravity of it doesn’t hit Taeyang until he could feel Y/N softening against his makeshift embrace, leaning against Taeyang. “But you helped me see everything I couldn’t, and you reminded me that I’m worthy. I couldn’t have done any of this without you - from saving me in the woods to saving me here…” Taeyang could barely finish before the sweetness of gentle laughter overtook him; he didn’t even need to string together the last of his words, Y/N was always there to finish them for him.

“My job is never done, your majesty…” Y/N said, his voice a shred of a whisper, barely weighing against the air. He still kept his hold on Taeyang’s hands and smiled as Taeyang caressed his knuckles with his thumbs, absently turning Y/N’s own hands over in his, surveying them.

Even after all Y/N’s put himself through as a knight, and his hands still feel as soft as they did when Y/N took Taeyang’s hand in his for the first time, helping him up from the ground on the fringes of that forest. They were so young, naive, and originally, Taeyang thought his mind was too much of a mess to fully realize all the things he was feeling. But even back then, the sparks of Taeyang’s admiration began to light.

“You’re going to make a great king, and I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

“I wish you didn’t like patrolling so much so you could just be my hand already.” They shared a chuckle, thinking about how Y/N could’ve been promoted so many times by now; however, they both knew that Y/N wouldn’t be able to handle being cooped up within the castle walls for as long as the King’s hand would be. He enjoyed the limited freedom that patrolling the perimeters gave him - especially those times at lavender sunrises when he’d sneak off and feed the alley cats by the tavern not too far away from the castle’s walls. Not a lot of fresh air and sunlight makes it through the windows of the castle.

However, the stray dapples of sunlight that managed their way into the castle were all revolving around Y/N, setting his skin alight with shimmers, igniting his eyes as they took on this beautiful fire in them. No matter how powerful Taeyang can become with the crown on his head and the throne beneath him, it was Y/N who had the entire world revolving around him.

And Taeyang couldn’t do anything but feel himself fall into Y/N’s orbit like everything else around them.

“Can you put ‘long walks by the beach’ on the job application?” Y/N looked up, a sheepish yet sly smile on his face, one that Taeyang found himself still failing to resist; he’s not sure he’ll ever find the power in him to do so.

“Well, as King, I think arrangements can be made.” Taeyang titled his head with a grin of his own. Even as the Prince, there are a lot of things that Taeyang would do just to have Y/N a little closer to him every day - to make their time together more than chiselling out free time and making excuses for their absences.

“Perfect, I’ll consider it-” Y/N was halfway through shining another smile until he heard an all-too-familiar call of the general’s horn leaking through the cracks of the throne room. Y/N was due for receiving his round of orders for the remainder of the day, as well, he was also set to aid in training a group of especially promising squires. He loved attending to his duties as much as the next knight, however, all he wanted to do right now was to be stuck with Taeyang right here, two moons adrift in the throne room’s endless space. “Shit… Duty calls, I need to go.”

“O-okay.”

Taeyang felt all of this radiant joy, a feeling that burned from the inside out in the best way, immediately fade away as Y/N stood up from his seat, hesitating to turn toward the doorway. For some arbitrary reason that twisted up in his stomach, pounded at his head and left him breathless with each second he left Y/N to drift away toward the stone archway they stumbled through to carve out some free time together, Taeyang felt that this moment, this particular moment was what stood between him and this irreconcilable end.

Suddenly, feeling the weight in him drop and practically bring him to the floor, Taeyang knew that he couldn’t let Y/N go this time. He can’t. If he does, Y/N will be lost to him in a way that would always be just slightly beyond him - Y/N would be so close to him, always, yet constantly far enough for Taeyang to see the gap between them, the leap of faith that Taeyang would fail to take.

There was an onslaught of thoughts in Taeyang’s head as he traced Y/N’s steps toward the exit. Everything they’ve ever been through, all the instances that triggered within Taeyang feelings he never knew existed before he stumbled into that damned forest and found Y/N on the other side… It all began to revolve around him in this shimmering, blinding and disorienting orbit, hovering and looming over him like a jewel studded crown - the crown that Y/N reminded him he was worthy of..

“WAIT!” Taeyang’s shrill and sudden cry, a plea that scorched the air, made Y/N still and whip around instantly, his eyes immediately fixing onto the near-desperate shine that arose in Taeyang’s. “Y-Y/N… I need to tell you something.” Taeyang didn’t even wait until Y/N retraced his few steps and made his way back toward their seats, his face contorted in confusion and concern for Taeyang’s outburst - Taeyang was done waiting, done watching his seams burst beyond repair with all the time he’s had to hold himself back from telling Y/N how he really felt.

He stopped for nothing, his heart knotted in his throat, his blood tangling in his veins with every moment he held his breath and felt his pulse nearly bring him to his knees. Y/N’s eyes weighed heavy on him now, his silent, inquisitive gaze like a shaft of moonlight thrust suddenly upon him. He felt drenched in Y/N’s silence, but he didn’t care, nothing - his doubts, his inhibitions, the commands that always stripped them from each other the moment he built the courage; nothing - was going to stop him.

“What is it, Taeyang? Are you alright?” Y/N said, tilting his head, and trying to get a read of the way Taeyang’s expressions seemed to flash between all the things he’s ever felt, all the things Y/N’s never been there to see him feel.

“I just… I can’t let you slip away this time.” There were times where Taeyang cared too much about what he was saying, measuring his words, cutting them like precious cloth in case Y/N would pick up on the scraps too soon. Now he didn’t, he poured all his weight into them now, spilled all the blood that Y/N’s teasing and beautiful smiles would send straight to Taeyang’s cheeks.

“What- what do you mean…?” To Y/N, Taeyang’s words felt like blows to his head, leaving his thoughts a blur. As he could see the conflict that now resided behind Taeyang’s once shimmering eyes, he soon realized that this wasn’t about what Y/N could see, what he felt as Taeyang let his words out. He shuffled a little bit closer and watched carefully as Taeyang rose from his seat, reaching out with shaking hands toward Y/N’s. Their fingertips brushed, slowly settling between each other, hanging on the fringes of each other.

“What I mean is…” Taeyang tried to steel himself, steadying his voice in the same way he did as his father would force him to make speeches to the royal court. This wasn’t the royal court, though, this wasn’t the kingdom he swore to serve, it wasn't even another country prepared for his reading of a treaty or a trade agreement. None of those situations could ever be like this - standing in front of the person who was his driving force, the wind in his sails, the person he’d take an arrow, a sword, or poisoned wine for. This was Y/N, his entire world.

He didn’t think he was prepared to speak to his entire world…

“I…”

Drawing a sharp, deep breath in, Taeyang felt the sunlight stilling between them, Y/N’s hand hanging from the edges of his. So close yet so far. He wanted to close the gap.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Taeyang’s words draped against the air, eclipsing the light trickling through the windows. A massive weight shoved from Taeyang’s chest now rested between them, and all they laid before both of them now was the silence that rested in between.

He wanted Y/N to say something, do something. Curse at him, yell at him, push him, shove him, hold him at the edge of his sword, grab him by the collar and renounce all the nothings they’ve whispered sweetly to each other, shatter his crown and take back all his belief in him. Even move his hand, his fingers from where they rested between Taeyang’s - recoil in disgust or fear like the shadows of Taeyang’s doubts always yearned for.

But Y/N didn’t move, not an inch - forward or back. His face remained stoic, unmoving, unintelligible like all the rest of the feelings Taeyang battled relentlessly to share.

Until, suddenly, Y/N stepped forward, bringing Taeyang’s hand in his gently, carefully; like how Y/N handled the lilies they’d find blooming at the bases of the trees by ‘their’ forest whenever they’d find the time during sunset to take walks together. Taeyang would watch him with such fascination as he seemed to take all the sunset’s colours in his hands, too, his eyes igniting in copper fires, the shimmer of gilded skies in his skin as if he’d been dipped into the clouds where all their laughter would be sent into.

Y/N finally looked up again to meet his eyes, pure bliss in them, dancing like leaping sparks, shining like stars, a small smile blooming on his lips like the slow trickle of sunlight against the dawn.

“Taeyang…” Y/N’s eyes flicked down for a moment to track Taeyang’s hand with his fingers - as if he hasn’t already memorized where the scar from their first play-fight ran to his wrist, where the ebbs and flows of his knuckles resided, where a couple of his veins settled just beneath his skin, twisting gently like molten gold leaking from a forge. They were the hands he’s always dreamed of holding whenever Taeyang wouldn’t be dreaming of holding Y/N’s first. “How could you think, even for a moment, that I could ever not love you too?”

It was as if the entire room let out a breath of relief that nearly knocked them over. Taeyang let out a weak whimper and fell into Y/N’s already opening arms, the frayed ends of his sigh turning into laughter as he buried himself in Y/N’s shoulder. The burnished hide of Y/N’s shoulder armour prodded at Taeyang’s neck as he shifted in Y/N’s embrace, but Taeyang’s never felt more comfortable, more at ease, and more at home than right now.

“You think you could’ve told me a little bit sooner!?” Taeyang tried to hit Y/N, nudge him in his side, but he didn’t want to let go for even a split second. He kept his arms around Y/N’s waist, pulling him in closer, ever closer, until they couldn’t tell the space between their bodies, until the colours between them melded into a blur the sunlight couldn’t define. “A little bit of ‘hey, I like you too’ wouldn’t have hurt!”

“I didn’t really know if you liked me like that. So I kept my mouth shut until I knew for sure…” Y/N, with his arms looped around Taeyang’s neck, rose on his toes as Taeyang pulled him in and up a little bit more, nestling himself further into Y/N’s neck and shoulder. “I know we’ve shared some special moments, but I couldn’t help but think about all the things in our way, and how far away you seemed from me.”

“I… I guess that’s a sufficient excuse…” Taeyang, raising his head from Y/N’s shoulder, thought about the love they shared, and how it was going to be a far from simple process of finding a way to live with it out in the open. If they kept their love a secret, they’d be suffocating every part of them that wished to be free, and if they were free, they’d have political power players pulling antique rugs from beneath their feet, finding ways to compromise the throne even further. “I never really thought about it like that.”

“Me neither, I never thought it out this far - the whole confession part.” Y/N fidgeted with the hem of Taeyang’s tunic, stifling his jumbled words into Taeyang’s shoulder with a deep breath. With all the relief that came with them, there was twice the pressure of what would come with the aftermath of what their love would do to each other, the kingdom, the crown, and everything else.

Maybe people would support them, the star-crossed love between a king and his most loyal knight, maybe they wouldn’t - there would be no heirs biologically tied to Taeyang’s blood, no legacy to carry like a sceptre through the generations.

But Taeyang was going to find a way, he was going to find a way to make things work and let everyone know, every inch of this kingdom, who he loves and how much love he has to share. He’s worthy, he’s strong, he’s capable - and so is Y/N.

“Maybe we don’t need to, though. We don’t need to think that far.” Taeyang stepped back and took Y/N’s face in his hands. He hated the way Y/N’s worry traced lines in his face, forcing out a frown that could never be seen in the light of Y/N’s persistent smile. Taeyang wanted to do anything and everything to see it fade away. “I love you, you love me… That’s all we have to worry about right now. No stupid crowns or legacies or futures or anything like that, Y/N.”

Their eyes met, and there was this comfort that burned between them, singeing the ends of Y/N’s pensive pout and bringing back that beautiful smile. Taeyang was right, they had each other, they found each other in the way they were always meant to. For now, that was enough.

Taeyang hasn’t even gotten his crown yet, still dawning the circlet he’s had since Y/N fixed it for him - balanced it atop Taeyang’s head - at the edge of that forest, and he’s already speaking like a king. Inspiration, passion, warmth, and power already radiated from him, his voice settling against him like an evening haze

“Whatever it is that comes, we have each other.” Y/N said with a chuckle, practically completing Taeyang’s thoughts before he could let them out.

Taeyang smiled, fingertips dancing along Y/N’s jaw, stars between their lips colliding as they pulled each other in and tied their lips together. It was everything they dreamed of but more. They could feel everything yet nothing, flickers of sunsets they’ve burned black, the sweetness of old jokes they have yet to glance over hundreds of times, that numbness between them as they felt sparks against their hands, fires on their skin, this intangible craving blooming in between them.

They pulled back, gravity collapsing in on itself as they felt themselves drifting in place, swaying motionlessly to the melody that played in all their moments of restless longing.

“If I have you,” Taeyang whispered as he rested his forehead against Y/N’s, his whispers hanging from Y/N’s lips. “Then whatever stands in our way doesn’t have a chance…”

Y/N was Taeyang’s second half, the embrace of evening to his emerging dawn, the smooth effortless edges that ran against his serrated surface, Y/N completed him, filling in all the blanks he’s spent hours wondering how to fill. He was the weightlessness in his wings and the stars in his sky, his everything.

Whatever would come to stand in their way really didn’t have a chance. None at all.

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

the other side; lee minho

(7,941 words) - large

summary ➣ Y/N’s harboured feelings for his close friend, Minho for as long as he could remember being by his side. As they head to college together, it only becomes more difficult for Y/N to keep those feelings inside as Minho begins to muse about a crush he may have on one of their new friends.

genre ➣ fluff ( + angst )

requested - 👍 by @blandtako

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Y/N sifted through the books stuffed into the top shelf of his locker, soaking in the feeling of the school day’s tedium with a long, overly strangled sigh. Even the air was as welcoming as ever, choking him on cheap drugstore perfume, the aftershock of the opening of the gym’s locker rooms and everything and anything other students were able to trek in from the outside. Plucking out a few of his textbooks for his first slew of classes, he shuffled through them, choosing his battles between which ones to bring in order to give his shoulders and his poor, poor backpack straps a break for once.

He was simply waiting for the bell to ring, waiting for the hallway’s traffic to sweep him up into their tides of chatter and cacophonous footsteps and drop him off where every weekday stuck in the exposed brick walls of this high school led him off; the chemistry block, a place of wonders and wondering that was the cesspool and breeding ground for all of Y/N’s social misfortunes and blessings in disguise.

One of those misfortunes in particular is his very recent friendship with Lee Minho, a passerby-turned-rival after they discovered that their GPA’s in the classes they sat across from each other in were far too close for comfort. The guiding force of their confidence was the fact that they were just an inch above the rest, that they could be seen and heard through ticks on a test-paper and a smattering of ‘excellent’s on research papers and theses.

When Y/N and Minho noticed that they tread upon each other’s territory, they stopped at nothing to turn everything they did into what they called ‘friendly’ competition. However, something they didn’t account for in all their prolonged stares across classrooms, snide remarks that made literally no sense, and smiles that lost their sharpness the longer they shone them, was that the universe stopped at nothing as well.

No matter what happened and no matter how hard they tried, they could never avoid being lab partners, they could never avoid making eye contact with their teachers at the exact same time to be put together for assignments and projects they needed to do well on in order to be considered for scholarships and awards. They were practically tied together by strings of the sunlight that fell against them on the first day they met.

‘Victims of circumstance’ they would call themselves, but cynical, defeatist terms like that as they assessed them being stuck together at every opportunity soon fizzled out. What became a rivalry built out of stress, pressure, necessity, survival, became something else, something more profound than they could’ve ever perceived. Suddenly, his drive that stirred in them to avoid one another faded away as if it were never there, a trick of the early morning light they’d meet halfway between them and their textbooks in the library around the corner. They wanted to be paired together, they wanted to see each other succeed - these flowers grew in between them, that of which they never thought they had the time for anymore; a blooming friendship.

“Need help carrying those?” Y/N knew better now not to flinch as an arm stretched over his shoulder and gently shoved his locker door closed. Minho always had his particular methods of greeting, all of which seeking a flush to creep into Y/N’s cheeks, that flustered heat leaving Y/N in a puddle of words as he’d turn around, startled, to meet Minho's face always mere inches away, from Y/N’s. Even though they considered themselves friends, close friends even, Minho still got so much enjoyment out of flustering Y/N, leaving him surprised and embarrassed and stumbling over his words. “I think they might have too much knowledge to carry, hand them over to someone smart.”

Y/N turned around and met Minho’s eyes, joyful eyes with those dashes of egotism that brought Y/N to his orbit in the first place, those glints of coyness that kept Y/N coming back to stare right into them and think about all the times he’s both fed into Minho’s ego and shot it down from hundreds of stories high.

“Because leaving your plastic fork with your ramen in the microwave definitely warrants ‘smarter than Y/N’ status.” Y/N rolled his eyes, tapping at Minho’s elbow and watching it buckle, leaving Minho to stumble a little bit closer and wrap his arms around Y/N’s waist in what he claimed was a ‘protective instinct’.

Y/N got in the uncommon retort or jab every now and then, poorly timed one-liners and comebacks that always left Minho rethinking his life decisions - or rethinking Y/N’s. But he’s been getting better at taking his own kind of fun out of pestering Minho, abusing his charm and Minho’s unfortunate ability to never say no to the lights in Y/N’s puppy eyes.

“I swear to God, that was one time!” Minho let go, shoving Y/N gently back into the lockers before thrusting an accusatory finger toward Y/N in defense. A couple people stared; they probably thought Y/N and Minho were fighting, and Minho couldn’t help but smile as he realized that at one point they were doing anything but - all the theatrics but none of the threats. “And you know what? The hints of the plastic fork in my ramen tasted fantastic!”

“I’m sure it was, plastic is always a part of a healthy balanced dinner.” Y/N couldn’t help but let a giggle fly free as he thought back to the night it all happened. Y/N over at Minho’s place to study for their upcoming test, and Minho, being the stellar host and reflection of hospitality that he was, brought ramen for them. However, with all the properties of physics and vectors he’s committed to memory, the one thing he couldn’t account for was the probability of there being a plastic fork in the noodles. They both ate it out of spite, and the fact that Minho’s ramen at eleven at night was pretty much their first meal of the day.

Minho had nothing to say for himself but a little snort that he let out into the hallway - Y/N always managed to make him smile, laugh, unwind his stress as if it were so simple to take a step back from all of it. He wasn't all too familiar with those things, satisfaction, ease, until they were lab partners one too many times to simply avoid talking to one another. Y/N didn’t know these things either, but going into uncharted territory with someone else who didn’t know a thing about relaxing made it feel a little less daunting.

Y/N didn’t know when this shift in his heartbeat happened, but somewhere in their journey of passersby to adversaries to unlikely close friends of questionable origin, Y/N felt himself feeling so differently as Minho would round the corner. It wasn’t Y/N preparing for the worst of Minho’s sass and ego, it wasn’t just this state of indifference as Y/N realized his competition became one of his closest friends, it was something else entirely, yet it was all of those things.

He would feel this annoyance bubbling inside him like normal, yet it was underlit by this fondness that left him burning up, more speechless than usual. He would catch himself staring at Minho before Minho would catch him and flash a devilishly narcissistic smile - and not even those made Y/N want to roll his eyes anymore, just chuckle softly and find Minho’s joy in them. These feelings for Minho were so difficult to hide and keep quiet, yet Y/N always found a way to cut himself off before he would get ahead and meet Minho halfway with any of his advances.

Because of everything they’ve been though, everything they’ve become out of what they were and weren’t, Y/N didn’t know if Minho could ever help Y/N reclaim all that time he’s spent absently daydreaming about the things Minho’s going to say to him next. Liking, loving, they were never things that Y/N was ever good with, in tune with, whenever he got too far, whenever his feelings began to bubble over in his mind and cloud his thinking, he was always ready to cut through all of it with the assumption that things never worked out for him that way.

“Speaking of balancing…” Minho trailed off, his eyes expectant. He hooked his arm around Y/N’s, plucking a book from Y/N’s arms to ease the weight of them in Y/N’s hands. Things like this, those subconscious things that Minho did and didn’t seem to think twice about - pulling on Y/N’s hands, hovering over Y/N as he passes by his desk and resting his folded arms on his shoulders, flashing those obnoxiously self-indulgent smirks that were practically waiting for Y/N to either shoot them down or simply be left speechless - it only made these feelings fluttering about in Y/N’s stomach that much more difficult to contain. “Are you ready to balance some chemical equations for our test today?” Minho buried a groan in a mock enthusiasm that was almost satirical in its own right.

Y/N, however, couldn't hide his annoyance as Minho dragged him down the hall toward their inevitable success. As much as they could act annoyed, their endless nights of studying, of preparing themselves for anything that this school could throw at them, assured them that they could get a ninety-percent without so much as a glance at their notes. Balancing chemical equations, properties of equilibrium, bonding, reactions, none of the things their teacher relentlessly drilled into their heads were even on their minds - well, at least Y/N’s.

All Y/N could think about was Minho, as per usual, how Minho fastened his grip on Y/N’s arm and brought him further toward the classroom where all of the things they never knew about each other blew up in their faces in the best possible way. It was the way Y/N felt everything in him begin to unravel and come back together with every skipped beat of his heart as he was kept on the edges of Minho’s words.

Y/N’s already been dangling on Minho’s ledges for so long, it’s just been a matter of how long Y/N’s willing to wait before he finally climbs up and turns all his untold, restrained feelings into words of his own.

“Do you think we could just skip today’s lecture?” Minho groaned, stretching his arms up and out before bending over his iced coffee with way too many shots of espresso to be safe for his system. Y/N fidgeted in his chair across from Minho, thinking about how far they’ve come since the time they first met, yet their need to defy authority and do anything in order to scrap by with their version of the bare minimum has remained as strong as it has ever been. They’ve been pushing themselves to unimaginable academic lengths for as long as they can remember, yet they still are able to find ways to pick and choose their battles, when to waste a few hours and get a ninety-five instead of a ninety.

It’s not like sharing a dorm room with Minho has been any good of an influence. Y/N hates to admit it, but some of Minho’s nonchalance has definitely rubbed off on him.

“Sometimes it still baffles me how we got here on full scholarship.” Y/N chuckled with a shake of his head, earning a sheepish, knowing smirk from across the table.

The entry tests and supplemental applications, the countless nights of Y/N and Minho being the last ones in any study space that could afford to have two burnt out carasses of high schoolers deplete their coffee supply. It all comes rushing back to Y/N every now and then, how hard they’ve worked to get here, and all the ways they don’t work at all and still scrape by on nothing but blind faith and a pinch of egotism. That realization always makes him smile over the latte that Minho buys for him as they sit at the exact same table at the exact same coffee shop on every day they feel productive enough to get out of bed by the time the sun’s still hanging tirelessly in the sky.

“Talent and raw skill, and maybe way too much determination for our own good.” Minho rested his chin on his head and stared out, his eyes catching on the way the corners of Y/N’s lips twitched up at the sarcastic, drowsy lilt in his voice. Y/N could barely hold it together as Minho let out a put after he took a swig from his coffee, and wondered how long he’s actually been silently loving it for. “Also, question.”

“Does it involve me actually having to answer? Or is this one of your long-winded diatribes that you force me into listening to?” Y/N fiddled with the straw of his drink as he watched Minho scrunch his nose up for only a moment before grasping at Y/N’s wrist, pulling his hand close. How Y/N was the only one who seemed to let the heat of a panicked flush slip past his defenses baffled him with all these slight moves Minho makes on him; the one test Y/N can’t seem to pass.

“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely have one of those too.” Minho grinned at the way Y/N sighed in defeat and loosened up with his fingers in Minho’s grip.

It was always so soft, indifferent, yet eager and lingering at the same time - it always got Y/N’s hopes up, but squeezing back might be too large of a leap for Y/N to take with all his feelings so ready to spill out at any moment. Holding them in for this long - so long - was already beginning to ache enough.

“But it’s about the semi-formal, the one that the sciences department is holding tomorrow,” Minho said in what Y/N felt like was half a breath - almost hesitant, unsure. But it was probably something to do with the road that wasn’t too far away from where they sat. And perhaps the light was playing tricks on Y/N, too, as the shimmer in Minho’s eyes flashed briefly with this expectant richness in them. “You’re coming, right? We rented out this lavish-looking ass venue and everything so it’s gonna be so much fun!”

“I don’t know yet, I’m guessing you’re already going.” Y/N said, biting his lip as his hum overtook the silence between them. He didn’t know what came over him, but his words spilled out before he could catch them in the space between him and his latte. “Are you going with anyone…?” Y/N knew it was stupid to ask that question, Minho wouldn’t have brought it up if he weren’t going with someone.

The silence, while only momentary and contemplative as Minho searched for an answer, was still deafening for Y/N. In the few months they’ve shared at university, Minho’s had his fair share of musings of people that caught his eye. He always managed, every single time and without fail, to describe Y/N to some degree, and it always got Y/N’s hopes up for that split second between when Minho would say their name.

Moments before Y/N’s heart would plunge with a defeated sigh of his own with Minho’s comments on their eyes or their smirk or the way they can put him in his place - things he’s said to Y/N in a few throwaway compliments, left Y/N questioning. Questioning if holding onto these feelings, if restlessly clinging to them and hoping that one day, he could find the courage to set them free, was worth the exhaustion of needing to hold them back. It was almost meticulous, how Minho did it, allowing for Y/N to see the light on some sort of horizon before allowing Y/N to realize that there was never daylight in the first place.

Y/N supposed that he could subsist on Minho reaching out for his hands every now and then, resting his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder whenever a stressful day met them halfway, taking Y/N in his arms on a subconscious whim as they’d settle into sleep in one of the two beds in their dorm room - bot of them unwilling to dismantle their pride by unpacking the other bundle of sheets they packed for the other bed. He knew that this was how things needed to be until he could find it in himself to let his feelings be known, always so close, yet at such a distance.

“Yeah, I had my eye on someone. I just don’t know how to ask them just yet.”

Y/N couldn’t stop himself from diving deeper. “Do you need help with asking them or something?” It took everything Y/N had not to plaster a longing sigh, a hoarse breath on the end of his words and phrases. This was how it always was, Y/N giving in to the mystery of who received Minho’s attention.

“Y/N, I’m not that pathetic.” Minho shook his head with a dismissive sigh, before catching the way it rang through the air and wincing at himself. “Okay, maybe just a little… Are you sure, though? It won't be like watching a train crash up close?”

“Shouldn’t be worse than any of the other ones.” Y/N trailed off, but didn’t realize how pointed it came off until it seemed as if he were the only one to recognize it. He couldn’t help it, though, being unable to fill in all the cracks where his feelings, his relentless optimism turned slightly bitter, began to leak out.

It felt as if the hope of Minho returning his feelings was slipping through his fingers yet again, and part of Y/N knew he was going to scramble to pick up as much as he could. His feelings for Minho meant something to him, to who they were and what this friendship became for Y/N - he couldn’t simply shrug all these moments off as if they were nothing, and it’s difficult to let go of a tether he’s tied so many times around his heart.

Y/N didn’t notice until after he recoiled from the one-sided sting of his words what exactly they were soaked and weighed down with. There was always a jealousy there, latent and dormant with every time Minho made himself just out of reach; however, Y/N has always sort of pushed away and never truly recognized it until moments like these, until his jealousy hung right in front of his face. As Minho spoke more of his prospective date, almost as if he already had them, Y/N began to feel it sting, prod at him, bubble up inside him.

“You’re right, you’re totally right.” Minho rolled his eyes as Y/N enjoyed hearing that just a little too much, but nothing about Y/N could keep a bright grin from staying stretched across Minho’s lips. He could only feign annoyance for so long until Y/N’s light seemed to burn it all down and leave him stripped to his fondness.

“I’ll help you pick out something to wear.” Y/N hovered over his latte, hoping that maybe the way his voice curved against the plastic cup could help hide the way his voice continued to waver with thought. “Maybe then if you go up in those metaphorical flames, you could do it in a cute two-piece or something.”

“Ah yes,” Minho chuckled, he could see something gathering behind Y/N’s eyes, heavy thought - too much - Y/N slipping up in his attempts to hide everything, as his chuckle faded into empty space between them. And as Minho kept his eyes on Y/N, finally catching Y/N’s gaze on his own, Y/N froze. Minho was daft and arrogant sometimes, Y/N’s faces his fair share of that side of him, but he was also sensitive and observant when they least expected it.

The way Minho’s eyes lingered on Y/N for that endless moment between them sitting and them standing up with half-finished drinks in their hands, it was almost as if Minho recognized something - or, at the very least, processed that there was something that Y/N was straining himself to let out. Minho didn’t say anything, at least not out loud as they made their way down the overgrown cobbles of their campus walkways whisking themselves off to Minho’s dorm room to probably sift through all his clothes and have Y/N wince and cringe at every single piece.

Minho wanted to feel a groan rising up in him, but he simply couldn’t mistake that look in Y/N’s eyes. However, Y/N, on the other hand, hoped that Minho didn’t dwell on the way Y/N froze, shocked that Minho spotted him slipping up, for too long. He still wanted Minho to have room to be happy, to be satisfied with having a date, going to semi-formal and dancing under scattered shimmers of chandelier light.

Yet, as they were walking, Y/N still couldn’t help himself but imagine them spinning on the scuffed ballroom flooring instead, moonlight spilled against them, words and feelings and second thoughts drowned out by the soundless rhythm between them.

The sun was finally beginning to set on the day of the semi-formal, giving its final fiery kisses goodnight to the copper sky and its golden clouds. Y/N and Minho were pulling things together last minute, because no matter how much time they gave themselves to prepare for anything, tests, dances, even their totally not-scheduled meet-ups by the park just before sundown - so they could see all the colours converge and then burst into the blackness of night - it always came down to the last minute for them.

Y/N was fixing up Minho’s clothes in front of a stand-up mirror tucked into a corner near their front entrance, prodding and pulling at the collar of Minho’s blazer, the one they spent the entire day prior scouring through their closets for. And as much as Minho wanted to pull away, shrink from YN’s touch as he fussed over stray locks of hair, slapping Minho’s fidgeting hands away, or murmured to himself as he looked at the way Minho stood, handsome and sharp, in his rebelliously loose-fitting grey suit pants and blazer, Minho knew he couldn’t.

He never wanted to admit - at least to Y/N’s face - how much enjoyed the way Y/N scrunched his nose up and hovered over the smallest of things - how much of Minho’s black t-shirt was tucked into his pants, the rings that Minho ‘needed’ to wear. It made Minho want to let out a laugh as bright as the sunlight streaming in through their windows and just take Y/N into his arms.

All of Y/N’s little things, those finite details that kept Minho coming back and reeling all the same, made him unravel and melt in a way he never has before.

“Okay, Y/N, I think I look fine.” Minho tried to fiddle with his hair, attempting to push away a couple locks of hair that fell in waves over his forehead, but Y/N caught Minho’s hand in his own and pinned it to his side with a frown that only made it harder for Minho to hold back suppressed giggles. “Do you think they’ll like it?”

“Bro, you seriously look so fine.” Y/N caught up with his words but tried not to rest on them for too long. He looked up to see Minho shine a small knowing smile, as if he didn’t need Y/N to say anything to make the room believe it, and rolled his eyes, continuing on. “If they don’t go with you then I’m sure there’s something seriously wrong with the world.”

A little bit of Y/N was leaking out into every word, even his tone. Y/N felt as if this was the moment where things were finally out of his hands, lost to a force that he can’t control now. Even looking up at the way this sheepishness flooded Minho’s features as it always did whenever Y/N complimented him, Y/N couldn’t help but feel everything rushing back to him in one final effort to feel something, say something.

Y/N stayed silent, though, he couldn’t say anything. Not now, and not for a long time. But as long as Minho was happy, even if one of them were finding something they were looking for, then maybe Y/N could finally find happiness in it too.

All Y/N wants to be in situations like these is be happy for Minho - despite all he’s invested into his daydreams about Minho taking him in his arms, doing what they always do but take it that few steps further. Minho had feelings of his own, but they never seemed to be Y/N’s. Y/N needed to be okay with that sooner or later, as happy endings, smooth sailing, longings and wishes falling right into his lap never really came to him.

Every single time the name of another was brought into the conversation, it seemed as if Y/N and this seemingly baseless quest for Minho’s more-than-borderline affections were simply gluttons for punishment - for this reaffirmation of the fall that always came from the high of a glimpse of a possibility, of a space in between for Y/N to say something, anything.

“I- thanks, Y/N.” Minho said, his voice low and sincere, a pitch that always hit them whenever the sun set. “I appreciate it.”

Minho was never one to get like this very often, as he preferred to rely on the serrated edges of his wit and sarcasm to make his way through a conversation and deal with the compliments that Y/N always slid his way. Whenever he did, though, it reminded Y/N of how much of each other they held in them - all their secrets and cherished memories, broken walls long forgotten beneath them, emotions, inhibitions all let out into night skies and laughed off as if they were nothing.

That weightlessness, Y/N supposed it to be so singular, an experience that only they seemed to share. He could be wrong, though, he’s been wrong about his hopes way too many times to count.

“Don’t mention it.” Y/N bit back all the things he’ll never be able to say, feeling it sting on the way down like a shot of shitty liquor. But he kept a smile on his face, ignited and still keeping its flame. As long as Minho was happy, then he was happy. That’s what friends were for.

But Y/N didn’t know if he just wanted to be friends.

“Now go knock them dead, please, or I’ll be severely disappointed in you, young man.”

“Yes sir, I shall not disappoint you.” Minho sent his words off with a laugh, but his eyes held this warmth in them. Before Y/N knew it, Minho was already pulling him into his embrace, a breathless hum of content - that wordless ‘thank you’ that Minho was always partial to - spilling down Y/N’s back. Y/N wanted to stay adrift in Minho’s arms for as long as the coral sunlight would stay submerging them, being pulled in by Minho’s gravity, feeling all the sharpness and facetiousness slip away from them as they unwound and tied themselves around each other, it was a feeling that Y/N never wanted to be rid of. “You sure you’re not coming…?”

“I’m sure, now go. You can only be so fashionably late.”

“Oh, Y/N. You know that anyone would stay around for this face.” Minho pulled back and soaked in the light of another one of Y/N’s little smirks, and knew that no matter how tired Y/N claimed to be of Minho’s overwhelmingly swollen self-esteem, it was something that Y/N could never get enough of.

“That is one of the many things I do know.” They shared a brief chuckle between them and stood in their silence for a little bit. Somehow, it felt a little bit more comfortable, more worn in, Y/N couldn't help but find the absences in it, though. “Now go, please, your cologne is stinking up the doorway.” Y/N shoved at Minho’s shoulders, turning him around and toward the door. Before he could completely force Minho out the doorway, however, Minho turned around in Y/N’s hands, tucking a lock of Y/N’s hair behind his ear with this generously bright, sincere smile that stopped Y/N in his tracks.

“I’ll be back soon, before midnight. The mental image of you sitting in this dorm alone doesn’t settle well.” Y/N snickered, supposing that this was Minho’s beautifully lopsided way of being compassionate.

“Yes, save me from myself.”

Minho met Y/N’s words halfway with a chuckle of his own before finally heading through the door. No matter how many steps he took, though, he couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N - it was like he was dragging out their goodbye, reluctant to leave Y/N alone. “I’m gonna go now…” I was like Minho was convincing himself more than anyone else.

“Okay, you do that.” Y/N kept a snarky smile up as he began to close the door, nudging Minho past the door’s threshold. “They grow up so fast.” Y/N cooed at Minho’s pouty frown before finally shutting the door, leaning against it feeling weightless and heavy at the same time.

It was as if he could barely stand, and all he had holding him up was the willpower he had to shove everything in him aside. And it wasn't until Minho left that this indomitable wave of thoughts and feelings overcame him and every function in his body, feeling like less of a discovery, but more of a realization, a moment of clarity crashing into him and leaving him windless.

“We’ve grown up so fast…” Y/N murmured into the door, resting his forehead against it. He spent so long giving into this false and viciously resilient sense of hope, that he could barely feel how his heart broke and shattered and crumbled, piece by piece as he helped Minho get ready. This moment, the moment that Minho actually left, was the one that Y/N dreaded the most. “Fuck, now I’m talking to myself…”

He wanted to keep his hope, cling to it. He wants so badly to be ignorant to all the hurt and ache that’s crashing down on him with every dose of reality he’s been taking. He wants to go back to the ways he appreciated what was there and wanted more of what Minho was giving him, instead of being at this place where he started to find all the things that weren’t there, the things that Minho didn’t give to him or didn’t see in the same way as him. All the yearning and none of the disappointment that comes after, that’s what Y/N wanted to keep, but he was a fool to think that he could stay high without the crash landing that came after.

Y/N was tugged out of his trance, however, when a knock on the door sent him stumbling back. He just eyed the door for a moment, considering if the sound actually came from his door, until there was another one, just as eager. Hesitant, Y/N reached to open it, and his face, contorted in confusion, only twisted up even more when he found Minho on the other end with this satisfied smile on his lips.

“Hey, I’m looking for someone? I heard he lives here?”

For a moment that felt like so much longer, Y/N was frozen in his own perplexity, still unaware of the wildfire of cockiness and prideful light that ignited in Minho’s smile. It was crooked in the perfect way it always was, yet all Y/N could see was the fact that Minho was still here, at his front door.

Oh, wait… Minho’s still here at his front door.

He was never leaving, and there was nobody else. It was all sinking in now as Minho’s glee held itself between them and their shocked silence for longer and longer. Minho couldn’t help but grin even brighter; YN’s utter confusion was more than enough to satisfy him. He continued anyway, shuffling in, closing the space between them, resting his hands on Y/N’s hips, fingers draped from and tugging on the pelt loops of Y/N’s pants.

“Wait, what- Minho-” Y/N couldn’t gather himself, all his words falling from his tongue. Now matter how confused he was, how everything that happened in these last excruciatingly long moments of stammering completely knocked him off balance and sent his settled emotions and unwound hopes haywire, he could still find it in himself to lean into Minho’s touch, hands eclipsing each other.

“He’s about yay high,” Minho held his hand against Y/N’s forehead, letting a chuckle out as Y/N did no more than eye his movements with a pout so adorable, Minho didn’t know if he could keep his sheepish laughter at bay for long enough for his sarcasm to take charge of the situation. It was always Y/N who could ever even attempt to tug at the knots of Minho’s defences - sharp words and silver tongue, all the weapons he’s forged to make sure nobody ever got close. It was almost effortless, and it practically was, how Y/N could just smile, look him in the eye, lend Minho one of his absent and breathy laughs, and Minho could find his rough surfaces of high tide being cut in two. “And he’s got beautiful eyes like yours - but don’t tell him I said that.”

Y/N didn’t know what to think or how to feel. It felt as if everything in him was going off at the same time and out of order; relief, joy, confusion, doubt, a warped suspicion that this was still the lead-up to some sort of punchline. But as Minho brought Y/N even closer, pressed into him with that softening smile and that cocky, loveable flourish in his eyes, everything felt right in a way that Y/N never thought could be tangible, anything more than a flicker of sunlight playing twisted tricks on him.

He could feel it… It was him… It was Y/N all along.

“I-”

“He’s hard to miss, especially when he gets that little scowl going on whenever I get way too full of myself. It’s kinda cute, really cute, actually.” Minho’s words trailed off into relentlessly brilliant giggles as he gripped Y/N’s fingers, keeping their hands wrapped up in one another. Nodding off all the things that reminded Minho way too late of all the ways he loved Y/N, it was almost too easy - Minho was far from done. “Oh! And whenever we would rough-house in my room I’d always let him win because his ego was so fragile, and you know what? Sometimes I like helping a cause-”

“HEY!” Y/N threw a punch-like nudge to Minho’s chest, but Minho simply soaked it in, just like he did Y/N’s melody of a whine. Y/N was grinning now, too, overwhelmed by so much happiness, so much warmth and pure bliss, that he could barely feel what hung on the end of his fingertips. Minho was all Y/N wanted to feel, and he leaned closer, burying his deep breaths - quivering, barely able to stand on their own - into Minho’s shoulder as he prepared for Minho to say more, to say anything or everything.

“We could never fuck around at his house after that one time in junior year when we forgot to clean up the room and slept in the same bed for the first time ‘cause there was no way I was taking the floor.”

Minho took in Y/N’s chuckle, and it felt like they were reliving all their glory days, all the times where sparks lit up inside them, yet they didn’t know what to do with the fires inside them. Every single day, afternoon and night ‘reluctantly’ spent together was now taken into their embrace, dyed with the flush of late august sunsets where Minho could never keep his eyes off Y/N and knew every reason why no force in the world could never tear him away. All those times Minho should’ve known better, and all the times he could’ve cut short Y/N dance with time and taken its place.

“His parents came in to wake us up,” Minho paused and took a breath before widening his eyes and stretching his lips into a grimace. He felt Y/N shudder into his shoulder at the recollection of every piece Minho was sliding into place. “They were absolutely mortified at the fact that the sheets were now on the fucking windowsill, and we had this grating, humiliating and awkward conversation about protection and the importance of sex and how we were too young to understand what we were doing. We didn’t know when to tell them that the only head we were giving each other were headlocks and that’s it.”

Minho twisted himself to try and wrangle Y/N into one, bringing his arm over Y/N’s neck. Y/N just let out a squeak and squirmed in his spot, his hands tugging softly at Minho’s fingers as they staggered and spun in the doorway. Minho knew he couldn’t keep like this for long, at least without Y/N tearing himself away and fighting back with twice as much fury, so he let go and held Y/N tenderly by his shoulders. He couldn’t help but let out another laugh of sheer delight; Y/N’s smile still has yet to fade, and Minho never wants to see it go, he never wants to revolve around another sun but the starlight that ignited in Y/N’s eyes and smile and voice.

They way Minho’s recounting every single thing, telling themselves the story of versions of them that will never know or understand or feel the things they’re feeling right now, it made Y/N feel something tangling up in his throat, in his breath. “We laughed about it the whole day afterward and went to school in each other’s clothes. I think that was the day when I realized my feelings for him - maybe it was sooner, I dunno - but the fact that I haven’t acted on them until now is practically a hate crime.”

“Minho… I…” Y/N still couldn’t find the words. It was as if Minho was stealing them right out from under him, leaving him breathless and tied up in Minho’s hands.

“It’s taken me quite a bit to finally find him, but sometimes, no matter how smart I know I am and how intellectual we pride ourselves on being, I can still be a dumb bitch sometimes and lose sight of the things that’re right in front of me.” Minho looked right into Y/N’s eyes, stars in their gazes aligning, colliding, bursting as the gravity that’s been holding them together collapsed at their feet. “I like you, Y/N… I like you so much… I didn’t really know how to ask you to the semi-formal, but I thought this would be fun and quirky, so…”

Minho trailed off with a pout, and left Minho to fill in the silence almost instantly with bright, colourful laughter as he brought his hands to Minho’s face, holding him, cradling him by his flushed cheeks. “I would be honoured to go, especially with a guy I’ve liked since high school.”

“God… I put you through so much pain, didn’t I?” For a minute, Y/N thought Minho was being apologetic, feeling his way through his words, but he was sorely mistaken. “I mean, being this irresistible? I mean, how could you not?” Minho shook his head, eyes widening and mouth twisted into a soft and sweet sneer - as soft and sweet as a sneer could be. But he didn’t dare, for a single moment, think to stray from this blissful feeling of Y/N holding him, bringing him in, burying laughter into his chest and shoulders, everything falling into place. “You were so jealous at the coffee shop, weren’t you?”

“No! Absolutely not!” Y/N jerked himself away, resisting the urge to fall right back into Minho’s orbit - and the way he leaned and melted so easily in his hands - throwing his hand out into a defensive point at Minho’s chest. “I wasn’t, I totally wasn’t.” Now it was Minho’s time to roll his eyes with a wide smile, the way that Y/N always did whenever Minho was way too over his head.

He never quite traced that feeling, that warmth bubbling up in him, that overflowing fondness that ignited a flush under his skin and heat under his hands whenever Y/N did that with one of his gentle smirks; until now. He wished he noticed sooner how much he loved when Y/N did that, when he took all the things that Minho could usually get away with and threw them at his feet with nothing but a shrug.

“You can’t prove it!” Y/N realized the hole he was digging for himself, and how he was working to convince himself more than anybody else - even the lamp on their couch’s end-table didn’t seem to believe them, its warm amber light coating a lot more of their recent memories on the edge of confession, dangling by threads of shitty red wine and each other’s hands wandering over textbooks.

Minho practically cooed at Y/N, watching as he crossed his arms and huffed, turning his chin the other way. But with a single nudge, Minho brought Y/N’s face - and his adorable frown - back toward him. “I almost had you fooled, almost. I was scared you were catching on.”

“Uh- could you blame me for struggling to hold in my pent-up feelings for you?” The way Y/N put it, it made Minho scratch at the back of his head, with a sheepish grimace. He didn’t like thinking about all the ways he could’ve made Y/N feel hopeless, fueling the fires of that constant longing that he alone thought he had burning inside him. “Especially considering that you had a new crush every week and described them the same exact way?”

Minho put his hands up in surrender before letting them find their way back to Y/N’s waist. “Okay, okay. I’ll definitely take the heat for those. But you gotta admit that it’s kinda poetic; how I’ve been describing you in all the things I loved.”

“Or maybe just correct.” Y/N titled his head, scrunching his nose and grinning wildly. “I’m pretty loveable.”

“That you are.” Minho’s words were silken, smooth. They weren’t hiding behind layers of edges and corners, they weren’t cool to the touch, brimming with sarcasm or veiled by anything. They were effortless, a sigh of relief spilling out of him. “That you really are…”

“Aw, Minho…” Y/N hummed into Minho’s hands as he brought them up to absently play with Y/N’s shirt collar. Minho never usually lets this side of him out, the one whose voice settles beneath the moonlight, the one whose eyes don’t pierce through problems and preen for a solution. Only YN’s ever paid witness to Minho’s unsure ramblings and careless sighs. “I’m guessing you want me to get changed for the dance?”

“No- I mean- You look gorgeous the way you are…”

“Stop it, please~ you’re getting all soft on me!” Y/N clutched Minho’s hands, pouting at the way Minho’s voice took on such a sickly sweet melody.

“Would you rather me be hard instead?” They froze, the air around them shattered. Even Minho took a second to reel back his words as they simply looked at each other, mouths agape, stuck in this flicker of a moment where a mixture of shock and utter amazement flooded their features. “I-I don’t know… I… I’m- wow…”

“Honestly, that was kind of impressive.” Y/N kept Minho’s eyes to himself, a giggle trickling from the corners of his purse-lipped smile.

As Y/N considered Minho’s completely awe-stricken expression for a while, until it loosened into something more contemplative, thoughtful. Y/N could feel a proposition coming on.

“Hey… Maybe we shouldn’t go? Let’s just stay here, eat food and pretend to watch movies.” Minho kept one of Y/N’s hands in his own while gesturing around the room. Their worn in couch that’s been the victim of way too many five-in-the-morning study sessions and caffeine-riddled conversations about half-baked philosophies and terribly informed politics; the bags of barely unpacked things they’ve kept in the corner of their living space for the last couple months; the kitchen where they leaned over the countertops and tied their weathered, vacant stares together over their morning coffee’s dying breaths; the bed where they’ve held each other, making sure to both unironically and ironically whisper ‘no homo’ to each other before falling into each other’s arms under the weight of a stressful day.

They’ve been each other’s comfort for so long, and now they get to be a new form of safe haven for each other, the kind that’s always been there between them since those early days when they couldn’t tear their eyes off each other, in the ways they’d brush against each other in the hallway, take each other in before mustering up a glare. They’ve always been more to one another than they could’ve ever conceived, but now they’re conceiving it, finally finding the stars in their night skies that constantly shone the brightest.

“But your ticket-”

“Fuck the ticket.” In one swift motion, Minho tore off his blazer and tossed it aside, fastening his hands onto Y/N’s hips and guiding him over the arm of the couch with a stagger and knots of laughter as they fell onto the couch’s seats behind them. He brought Y/N’s hands in his own and they collided with the cushions in a way that felt so smooth, but just rough enough that they could laugh about it in the morning.

Tying their hands above Y/N’s head, Minho’s knees seizing his waist, how everything gave way under them and how Y/N looked up at Minho, kept him trapped in the gravity of his wondrous eyes.

“I want you, and I don’t want to share you with anyone else tonight. Or ever…”

“Let’s stay here then, ‘cause I want you too.” Y/N squeezed Minho’s hands and felt his breath slip away from him as Minho leaned closer, even closer, their faces mere fractions of seconds apart. Their lips mere shadows of each other, their skin an alignment of stars, the air and the setting sunlight and all the colours taken in between them but a blur.

It felt like a beginning, a beginning of a story they’ll pray over decade-old textbooks will never end.

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

stitches; huening kai

(10,319 words) - large

summary ➣ The friendship between Y/N and Kai takes an awkward turn after Kai experiences his first heartbreak and suddenly leaves to deal with all the pain that follows. When Kai comes back to Y/N completely changed, Y/N struggles to navigate his new outlook on life.

genre ➣ fluff ( + angst )

requested - 👍 by @do-ray-mi

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Y/N and Kai were still feeling morsels of the school bell’s shrieks leaving them as they sat themselves in their normal places at the front of their chemistry class. It was where the sunlight spilled against them in the best possible way, lit them up in pale golden flames in the slanted square spotlights of their classroom’s windows. Ever since they wound up in these places right next to each other in hopes of winning their teacher’s favour, their fingertips brushing over a pencil Kai dropped between them, they never change seats like everyone else did. Glances meeting by chance, the awkward smiles and slight giggles and hums of recognition as they would brush past each other to slide into their chairs - Kai would always manage to go the same way Y/N did; it only seemed to unfold from there.

They were finally past that step of small talk and bouts of dreadful silence, passing by each other in the hallways and not stopping right in the middle to talk about heading to the arcade a few blocks west of where they kept their bikes. They were something that bordered on regular get-togethers and conversations that weren’t such a hassle, maybe it was even friendship, with the way they enjoyed each other’s space. However, they were never really too sure, as this whole ‘friendship’ thing, looking into someone’s eyes and finding someone looking back at them, the nature of feeling found instead of lost among the crowd, it was all really new to them.

People weren’t necessarily their strong suit, but it began to seem that they found at least a person in each other. Smiles ignited under the iridescence of bowling alley lighting, laughter swallowed up in shrieks at the arcade where they’d spent the whole day at the claw machine, it began to feel like something real, something they could hold on to.

“I can’t believe our campaign was cancelled today… How else are we going to figure out the secrets behind the disappearance of the tribe leader?” Kai whined as he slapped his textbook against the surface of his desk with this animated flourish of sadness, a pout on his lips as he looked over to Y/N. They were supposed to meet under the amber cover of Kai’s porchlight with some of his friends to begin the next part of their Dungeons and Dragons campaign, but it was all put to a screeching halt because Kai’s mom didn’t let them stay up as late as midnight - ‘the hour of evil’ - on a school night.

“At least your mom let us sleep over…?” Y/N tried to find a bright side to what felt like a day of endless possibilities - and Yeonjun’s terrible luck - eclipsed by their bedtimes. But even that came with its own lot of things to wince at. Whether it be Soobin’s constant need to spoon the object closest to him, which coincidentally was Y/N; Kai and Beomgyu’s whining about starting a rebellion against a new villain they were making up, which was definitely inspired by Kai’s mom; to Taehyun’s constant need to engage in UFC-level Mortal Kombat fights with anyone within arm’s reach; and Yeonjun’s insatiable desire to wreak havoc on everything, including their sanity…

Actually, the day sounded pretty great in hindsight. Y/N wasn’t going to lie to himself.

“Also, we were able to beat that party of orcs who hijacked that caravan of scrolls and tombs, we were actually able to save the scholar they took hostage, too!” Y/N smiled as Kai perked up. “Maybe we can use Taehyun’s language skills to decipher some of what’s left.”

“Well, it was only thanks to you! You were able to roll a nat-twenty on all of your magic missiles!” Kai threw his hands into the air, practically hanging for dear life on the edge of his seat. His voice filled with so much happiness, other students surrounding them began to look at them in their fits of excitement - some already beginning to cringe. For a moment, Kai thought back to how Beomgyu and Soobin always managed to make Kai look away for a second before Y/N finished rolling his die. “Wait… Now that I’m thinking-”

“No thank you, no thinking… My brain hurts when you make that thinking face.” Y/N shuddered at the thought of Kai’s thinking face. But whenever that light caught in Kai’s glimmering brown eyes, Y/N couldn’t look away, he never wanted to. There was always something so beautiful about the way any shade of sunlight seemed to fall in this revolution around his gaze, all the day’s leftover colours shining their brightest in a stare that left Y/N slightly breathless whenever Kai looked at him in the way he’s done more and more. Directly into his eyes, drawing curtains around the rest of the world for just a split second.

That brief wave of awe and nothingness, that moment frozen in time… Y/N doesn’t know what to make of it yet, there doesn’t seem to be enough words in this brain of his to begin to define it. However definition-less it was, it was a feeling that Y/N wanted to keep with him forever, it was one that kept him wanting more of Kai’s happiness and everything in between then he was smiling and when he wasn’t.

“I wish I could roll a perception-check on you right now-”

‘Hey nerds!” A brash voice came from behind them, and Y/N and Kai instantly snapped to attention, turning themselves around in their seats to meet the face of one of their many hecklers. Nobody necessarily went out of their way most of the time, but they definitely did their best to remind them how low they were hanging on the fringes of this social hierarchy they built. “How about you get a room with that stupid shit?”

They were frozen for a second, too stunned like always to speak, but Y/N caught Kai beginning to deflate in the corner of his eye. With every moment they wanted to lift each other up into some state of happiness, whenever they wanted to do so much as be who they were, there was always someone who would clip their wings and keep them on the ground.

With the way Kai’s smile so easily crumbled, Y/N couldn’t just sit by and watch Kai’s happiness fade like that.

“As long as it’s your mom’s room.” Y/N lifted an eyebrow, coy and cocky as he took in the silence that tumbled in like a spring breeze. It slowly swelled around the room before their heckler collected himself to retort, throw something back after he gathered his stammering words.

As soon as Y/N said his piece, he turned around and watched as Kai kept a chuckle between them, leaning over to fray Y/N’s hair before resting his chin on his arms, giddy under the flames of Y/N’s sarcasm. Y/N was always there to defend who they were, the only person who understood him, he hoped that one day he could return the favour if he ever grew brave enough to do so.

“Hey! You little shit-”

“Steve~”

A voice with a sickly sweet - almost suffocatingly so - lilt drifted into the room through the doorway. A cherry stained tide sweeping away the coolness of Y/N’s spring breeze. All the attention that Kai had on Y/N, the way he tapped the tips of his shoes against Y/N, his appreciative smile, the quiet smile they held in solidarity for each other, it all slipped from Y/N’s hands and over to the girl who stood perfectly framed in the doorframe.

It was almost too cliche, how she leaned against the edge of the doorway, and irritatingly vibrant pink cardigan draped around her arms, sunlight spilling against her perfect face and slight smile, collared shirt sitting loosely in the perfect way against her with the pleats of a plaid skirt shifting in this invisible, theatrical breeze. A tie was hung loosely from her neck, and those platform loafers that Y/N and Kai eyed through the window at the mall crossed over each other. It was as if she walked right out of every single one of Kai’s dronings and daydreams and those slight remarks he’d make at lunch over wistful sighs.

That’s because she was the subject of all Kai’s musings, and as the most popular girl in school, Y/N was sure that Kai wasn’t the only one who talked endlessly about her, who was drawn by her effortless magnetism.

She made her way further into the classroom and etched herself into the idling chatter around her. “How about you give the whole ‘asshole’ thing a break, let these cuties talk about their… What was it?”

“Orcs!” Kai flashed a dazed smile, almost slipping out of consciousness as he realized she was holding his eyes in hers. “We saved a scholar and his ransacked caravan from orcs-”

“Yeah, that.” She said absently before keeping her eyes on Kai. Y/N wondered how much she enjoyed the way she could make everyone melt under the pure fire of her gaze. “Just leave them alone, okay? Especially if they’re cute.” A smile made its way onto her lips, thin and vapid but just enough to keep Kai on that flower-lined trail of hopelessly falling into a dead end.

“Fine, whatever.” Their heckler, now given the name ‘Steve’, shrugged insolently and watched as the girl passed right by him, phased through the space of his whining words as if they were nothing.

Y/N spared one more glance to the side to see Kai’s stare following in her footsteps, the whispers of her shoes against the scuffed tile flooring. All he wants to do right now is feel anything but what’s rising in his chest right now, this bitterness that he’s never been able to contain; it only ever seems to show up whenever Kai feels like he’s more than fingertips away. He buries all his jealousy under his tongue and hides it away, the mutter under his breath that escapes from his lips is cut off by the school bell.

He hoped that the wink she flashed in Kai’s direction was just a trick of the light, a sparkle of sunlight that simply wanted to make him feel worse, and sat back in his seat to look toward the blackboard at the front of the room - doing anything to distract himself. No matter how hard he tried, though, he could still catch the way the sunlight played so coyly over Kai’s hand and what was left of the glances Kai forgot to spare him the moment that girl walked in.

Y/N and Kai finally made it to that small window they had between classes, and they were shifting out textbooks for their upcoming classes. Y/N was shuffling around his things in his bag, while Kai was leaning on the locker beside him, his book bag already stuffed and tucked under his arm. Ever since their first period when that encounter with ‘Steve’ and the girl who hasn’t left - even for a second - any of Kai’s slightest mentions, it was as if this dream-like haze was held prisoner in Kai’s gaze. Even now, his eyes were drawn to her, as she stood with her friends, including ‘Steve’ on the other end of the hallway, chuckling and chewing up rumours between their teeth like bubblegum.

“Honestly, Y/N, I finally think I have a chance with her.” Y/N didn’t realize how long he was spaced out for, looking into the rusted corners of his locker shelves, until Kai slapped his shoulder with this manic happiness. He caught onto the edges of Kai’s words and of his exclamations, on the starts of all his wistful sighs that Y/N honestly didn’t know if he had the strength to bear as such a small distance. “Did you see the way she stood up for us? She winked at me Y/N, I swear I wasn’t tripping, although I do think that the barista put too much sugar in my coffee this morning.” So it wasn’t a trick of the light after all, it wasn’t just a flicker of ivory in the corner of his eye. “I’m totally gonna ask her to the dance coming up this Friday, and she’s totally gonna say yes.”

What about the way I stood up for you…? Y/N wanted to hopelessly plead with the rose-coloured haze distorting the ease that Kai always seemed to make Y/N feel, this effortless comfort and weightlessness that came to them like the blood in their veins and the colours in the sunset. He couldn’t get this way, though, as he looked over to see Kai’s smile stretched wide, burning bright in a way that was so rare. Although the only other way he’s smiled like this was with Y/N, under their few - and hopefully still counting - nights under lavender moonlight, it was still so rare and took so much time.

The way she could draw this type of happiness out of him left Y/N at a loss. But if Kai was happy, then he was happy.

Yes, yes. Y/N was happy for him.

Just not as happy as he wanted to be.

“I’m glad that she’s reciprocating, I am.” Y/N didn’t know how to continue, and within his pause, he cautiously raised his eyes from the ground to meet Kai’s. The lovestruck glow in Kai’s cheeks flickered, shorted out for a moment, and a look of concern consumed him as he finally let the hesitance and tension of Y/N’s voice begin to seep in. “I guess just be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Kai wanted to reach up, bring Y/N’s hands into his, but he stopped himself for a reason he couldn’t quite place. They’ve been friends for a while, but were they close enough for Kai to bring him in? For his voice to fall below a whisper as he told him everything was going to be okay? Part of him always wondered what Y/N’s hands felt like, but another part of him began to think that Y/N didn’t know if he wanted to feel Kai’s. “Everything’s gonna be fine! I’ll meet you outside the class like always, just give me a bit.”

And with that, with one last glance and bright, encouraging smile that felt like more of a parting than it was meant to be, Kai sent himself scampering across the hall to the girl pressed up against her locker. For a moment before turning away, Y/N closed his locker and watched. He wanted as they interacted and smiled at each other and inched closer and leaned against the lockers and fixed each other's gazes. Y/N felt too helpless to be proud of Kai for getting what he wants - he simply doesn’t know how long this moment of brightness will last, how long Kai would dangle by this tether that already felt as if it were going to snap.

How long would this girl flash him winks, and keep him hanging on until she finally decides to peel away that flimsy piece of tape that Kai’s used to stick to this image of her?

Just before the bell could ring and flood in between all the cracks in Y/N’s incomplete thoughts, Y/N turned around to their normal waiting spot, the place they’d always find each other whenever they were too late or too early for each other. The doorway to their second period class was basically a new normal for them; whenever Kai would be late taking too long to pee or was having a tough time with the vending machine, this was exactly where Y/N would be, waiting for him.

The doorway was where they first met, where they laid the frayed ends of their hellos and the goodbyes that they swear to never finish, knowing that their worlds will never be more than inches apart. Y/N rested against the outside of the doorway, waiting long, longer, until the school bell’s done itls three rings of warning. The swelling of students and footsteps is reduced to nothing as its last echoes fill out the space in the empty hallway.

Y/N stood there all alone for even longer, still hoping - always hoping. For himself, for Kai, for them, for the girl not to split his heart in two like they always joked about with girls like her. For all the things they laughed at not to blow up in their face. For Kai’s hand in his, for their sunsets not to slip away from them. For all his feelings, all the things he could never build the courage to say, to not be for nothing-

“Y/N!” Came a voice from the distance, a silhouette taking up the vacant fluorescence of the lights above them. As soon as he heard his breathless voice, Y/N knew it could be nobody by Kai - so soon into their friendship and Y/N could already tell him apart from anything else. He wondered, only briefly, if Kai could do the same for him, too. “Y/N!!! I’m so sorry!”

“What is it?”

“She said yes!”

Hoping and wishful thinking began to look a lot like the same thing nowadays.

Y/N was left with nothing but a vague text asking him to meet Kai on the roof of his house as he walked home alone for the first time in the half-year they’ve known each other. It’s been so long since they’ve ever needed to text each other to meet anywhere, they would always just land in each other’s personal space as if it were nothing, second nature. But based on the rumours and excited gossip that’s been passed around the hallways, Y/N had a feeling that the sparks in their veins, the things that led them to one another were the last thing on Kai’s mind - in fact, with what Y/N’s heard as someone else filled in Kai’s spot beside him in their chemistry class, maybe Kai’s veins have been torn apart, ripped from his beating heart.

All those thoughts, all the re-realizations of the empty spaces Kai’s absence have left in Y/N’s day only made him quicken up the pace. Past the picket fences of the houses enclosing the street, past the spray-painted curb that Y/N’s started to hop up to and balance on, leaving Kai to fear for his life as he’d hold his hand to keep him steady, past that persistent and oddly beautiful smattering of weeds that’d regrow in that same crack in the sidewalk. He needed Kai to be okay, and Kai needed him.

The door was already unlocked as Y/N made his way up the front path - he couldn’t see Kai’s silhouette etched into the sky as he walked up to the house. It was eerily quiet as the beginnings of a sunset began to seep in through windows.

As Y/N stepped out of the attic window without Kai’s help to bring down the ladder and hold him steady by the waist as they’d usually make their way up here together, he saw Kai curled up in a corner of roofing, the one place he couldn’t be seen from the sidewalk.

“Kai…?” Y/N’s call was weak, cautious he stepped out the window and made his way along the shingles and toward Kai. There was a spot left open for him at Kai’s side, and Y/N sent himself into a stupor wondering how long Kai’s simply been sitting here, feeling the sunlight’s colour shift on his skin as he waited for Y/N to fill in that space.

How long has Kai had that empty space for? How long has that girl, that precipice of all Kai’s earnestly juvenile desires, left him with holes in his heart?

Y/N’s heart began to shatter as Kai turned to meet his gaze, the golden sunlight catching his tear-stained cheeks mid-shimmer, and his lips peeling themselves back to reveal a tragic, knowing, defeated and bitter-sweet smile of blind ignorance and expected ‘I told you so’s.

He could already feel Kai’s pain, and already felt that helplessness of not being able to do anything about it already sweeping in. As he looked over Kai’s cracks, he felt himself breaking up.

Y/N rushed to Kai’s side and opened his arms. Through all Kai’s anger, sadness, frustration and numb blankness, he crumbled in Y/N’s arms the moment they curled around him.

Y/N clutched Kai tighter as he wept against Y/N’s shoulder. It was this near-silent whimper - a bloodless wound drying up, struggling to stitch itself back together. As Kai shrivelled up in Y/N’s arms, taking in Y/N - his only safe place - as much as he could, Y/N could almost feel pieces of his heart scattered about in his chest. With every rise of his stammered breathing, with every fall of his windless sobs as handfuls of Y/N’s borrowed sweatshirt turned into fistfuls, until everything in the view above Y/N’s shoulder turned into a colourless blur.

Kai never thought it would hurt this much, being shoved so deftly and mercilessly off a pedestal he knows now never truly existed.

“Kai…” Y/N started, smoothing his hand against Kai’s back, his voice was so delicate he could almost hear it snap under Kai’s softening cries into Y/N’s chest. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry about what she did to you…” Y/N wasn’t there for that moment of impact, when the girl must’ve shrugged him off as if he didn’t exist the night of the dance, embarrassed him in front of everyone in a way that left him stripped to his shivering bones and frayed nerves. It was a knife in him that was waiting to be twisted, the moment they locked eyes, the moment Kai thought that this day dream, this imagining could be anything that was attainable, anything that he thought was worth attaining.

Now Y/N wished he was there. He wished he was there just to hold Kai when it hurt the most. One moment Kai was beside him at the school’s entrance, flashing him a wink and cheeky smile as he went to find his date; the next, Y/N was looking down every empty hallway, peering into every grimey and defaced stall, setting out for Kai as he caught glimpses of ‘Steve’ taking the place in the girl’s hands that Kai seemed so sure he was destined for. There was no sign of Kai anywhere, nothing but that deflated text bringing Y/N here, one Kai’s rooftop after school. The day after everything happened.

All he knew of was the fallout, the aftermath, the things he heard when he walked into school the next day and felt a shift in the air, that absence of reckless abandon in the seat next to him in every classroom.

“I’m still trying to process it… It all happened so fast…” Kai’s voice levelled out for a second as he rested his cheek on Y/N’s shoulder, letting himself bend to the breeze of Y/N’s arms.

“Do you want to talk about it?” All Y/N could feel was anger and frustration, boiling up to his throat in curses that he’d bring to pierce the sky. But he knew that wouldn’t do anything, saying things that they already knew wasn’t going to make Kai feel any better. “I understand if you don’t…”

“I was so stupid and naïve and hopeless and desperate and gullible… I was just a fucking idiot…” Kai shook his head, resting his chin in the curve of Y/N’s neck. “I didn’t know what I was expecting, and I feel like such a fool thinking that all that shit I mused about was anything but a stupid daydream waiting to be shot down.”

“Kai…” Y/N whispered his name, his voice trickling down Kai’s back. He didn’t know what to say; and as he ran his hands against Kai’s sides, along his back, up to hold his waist, it was almost as if he could feel Kai’s scars failing to fade. A ruthless, curl and vindictive awakening that left Kai unable to sleep without thinking about all the ways his heart was torn open by something he truly believed in.

“It’s okay, Y/N… I should’ve known that was how this was going to end, I was foolish if I thought it was going to be anything else.” The way Kai’s words chiseled themselves into the sky, it only made Y/N’s heart ache even more. It was only a few days ago when Kai’s words were so bright and shorting out the sun, light and jovial enough to follow the breeze all the way into the horizon. They were heavy now, so full of weight already, snapped in the middle and laid at the end of their roof where their legs dangled as they unwound from around each other and sat out to face the sky. “All that time I spent chasing something that was never real to her…”

Kai turned to Y/N, who looked at him with pursed lips, holding back all the words he was thinking of that were willing to spill out all at once.

“I think I need to take a step back.” Kai chuckled faintly as he watched Y/N’s face begin to twist up in confusion. Even Kai didn’t know what that quite meant. The rest of their friends, Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu, and Taehyun, were heading downtown for a couple days just to throw all care to the windless night sky for no reason at all. Maybe that’s what Kai needed, a step back, some perspective, something that could help him begin to figure out what happened and why he so happily walked to his own emotional slaughter. “From everything…”

He rested his head on Y/N’s, feeling tears already begin to well up in his eyes as he could feel Y/N simply take what Kai was saying, accepting and doing his best to understand. Y/N didn’t quite know heartbreak like Kai did, at least not so intimately, but Kai was sure that if he listened closely enough, he could hear Y/N’s heart begin to whine, breathe out in confusion. But Y/N stayed silent, listening, taking in all of Kai’s emotions and doing nothing with them but comforting one of the only people he can call home.

“Yeonjun and the others are heading out, just saying ‘fuck it’ for a few days and staying with some mutuals in the city. I think I should go, empty my head and get away from so many reminders of how she made me feel.” Kai’s voice trembled, so uncertain.

Y/N wanted to plead for Kai to stay, but he didn’t know if they were close enough for him to say ‘I need you’. He simply couldn’t find it in himself.

Was it the part that yearned for Kai to look at him in the way that he seemed to look at everyone else? Was it the part that saw so much starlight in every single one of Kai’s throwaway smiles? Was it the part that wanted himself to be okay as much as he wanted Kai to be okay? Maybe it was all of him, every single part of him that Kai encompassed.

“You should come with me, Y/N.” There was so much pain in Y/N’s observant quiet. “I can’t leave you here.” All the colour Y/N already brings into Kai’s life and holds in his eyes, brings between them; it’s the only thing that assures Kai that things are okay - even when they aren’t. Y/N is that one person who can both ground Kai, that pinch that snaps his dream in two to remind him he’s still living, as well as be that dream in the first place and lift him off the ground, as being with Y/N always felt way too good to be true.

“Yes you can…” All those indeterminable feelings that rose in Y/N’s chest, they were there yet again tugging at him in every direction. “You can go and figure everything out. I don’t want to be a reminder of all the things you want to leave behind, even if it’s for a little while.”

They turned to look at each other for the first time since Y/N stepped out onto the roof. Kai’s eyes shone in such a different way, in a way that felt clouded, unrecognizeable. He was torn apart in a way that left Y/N unable to stitch him back together on his own, and all Y/N could do was to support Kai with his choices and let him heal in the way that Kai wants to. Y/N wanted to say something, anything, but stitching fragments of Kai’s heart back onto his sleeves where he used to wear it wasn’t going to work.

“No- Y/N! That’s not what I mean, I swear.” Kai’s voice was suddenly soft, all the fires that burned under his words fading away as soon as he met the sadness in Y/N’s eyes. Y/N tried to hide it, but there were things that he couldn’t hide even from Kai.

“What that bitch did was horrible. If you need to take a breather from life for a second, a few days, that doesn’t matter. I’ll be here waiting for you, and I’ll also be here with all the notes from all our classes.”

“Y/N… I…” Kai felt frozen, but there was this certainly that shone in Y/N’s eyes as they looked at each other for longer, stared deeper into each other.

“You need to heal, Kai. I get it.” Y/N chuckled, but Kai could still feel the weight of all the things Y/N’s wanted to say but didn’t. “Just don’t take too long or I’ll get lonely.” He wanted to be kidding, but he wasn’t quick enough to fold all that longing under a bright - as bright as he could muster - chuckle.

“Y/N…” Kai’s words slipped into the sky, nearly burning up in the golden sunlight. A silence started to softly, delicately overtake them like the wash of strawberry tides. “If you didn’t love me so much I would’ve expected you to toss me off this roof.”

They shared a chuckle, and it was quick to flutter above silhouettes of rooftops and melt into the whispers of lavender smeared against the golden sky.

If you only knew… Y/N said into nothing, letting the wind take his words away before anyone could hear them.

Y/N buried yet another sigh in his locker before shutting it with an over-dramatic slam and shifted the textbooks he held under his arm. He was about to head down the hallway, but a few memories tacked onto the inside of Y/N’s locker door left him opening the locker right back up again. The friendship between him and Kai was just beginning to bloom, not close enough to do certain things, yet at too enar of a distance to not do other things. Y/N didn’t think to stuff a couple of pictures of them in his locker door until Kai left and Y/N went scrounging at the bottom of his dresser drawers for the polaroids that he never thought he’d need to use as a fail-safe. He never thought they’d be apart for long enough for him to have to miss Kai this much.

They weren’t prepared for Kai to get his heart snapped in two, either. They’ve needed to unearth a lot more than they expected during their school year.

Y/N was approaching the end of the ‘few days’ that Kai was supposed to be gone, and Y/N felt this odd, unsettling mixture of relief and loneliness as he found himself walking to school on his own - this hope settling at the bottom of his stomach that this could be the last time. That Kai would be standing expectantly on the edge of his doorstep, ready to spring right into his place next to Y/N - the space that Y/N’s been keeping open this entire time.

He knew he was going to miss Kai, he knew he was going to feel his absence in every room, his smile wasn’t there to light up. But he didn’t know that the worst part of it all was that anticipation for him to come back. He needed him more than he thought, yearned for him more than the aching in his heart could have ever prepared him for.

He let out another sigh, shoddily made with the little breath he still had in him, and swung the locker closed, but a hand curling around the door’s edge beat him to it and shut the door gently. The hand, as it reveals itself, looked so familiar; he recounted the times he’s wanted to hold it, those times their fingers accidentally brushed against each other on walks to class and walks home. Except, those studded rings were new - the same house with a new, translucent coat of paint.

Kai popped out from behind the door to show his face with a smirk stitched onto his lips, kind eyes shining wildly, the glow in his skin was dyed a new colour yet still seemed the same. He was changed but still that Kai who would let Y/N take the bigger end of the fries they would sometimes split together. His hair was longer, draped against his forehead, framing his face in inky black waves, he wore a vintage leather jacket, the ones they’d always fantasize about wearing whenever they would want to pretend to be someone else for a day.

Y/N didn’t realize the silence they were in until he finished taking Kai in, taking him in in all his changed, shifted glory.

“I see that new memorabilia of ours has graced your locker.” Kai’s voice eased out from between his teeth as he made his way closer to Y/N, taking him in and all the ways his precious friend had stayed the exact same. Kai’s voice, though, was lower, assuming this roughness to it, as if the honey that draped his words had crystallized. “I feel so honoured-”

Kai’s teasing words were cut in two as Y/N instantly began to rush in to wrap his arms around Kai and his leather-clad shoulders, but stopped for a moment, hesitating. “Oh crap, sorry… I just… I-”

“I missed you, Y/N…” Now it was Y/N’s turn to have his words shattered as Kai swept him up in a hug, something they haven’t done often, something they don’t do unless they need the comfort, not when they want it. This hug, though, Kai wrapping his arms tight around Y/N’s waist, not just hugging him but embracing him, it made Y/N collapse in it, close his eyes and soak it in - that and the sharpness of Kai’s new cologne. “Did you keep my spot warm for me?”

“Yeah, I saved it.” Y/N smiled, playing with the strap and buckle that hung off the hem of Kai’s leather jacket. It was rough, worn, things Y/N didn’t think of whenever Kai came to mind. Its sheen could never match the glimmer in Kai’s eyes. “Just for you.”

“Just for me, huh?” Kai moved a little bit closer, this brave step to fill in the space between them. He flashed what Y/N supposed was a smirk, but he could sense the hesitance and performance in his coy, witty theatrics. If Kai was going to close the space between them, if he was going to reach for Y/N’s hand, fall into his gravity like this, then Y/N wanted it to be real. Not whatever he was seeing.

It felt so much like a bravado that Y/N almost wanted to be hurt by the fact that Kai would do this to himself, change everything he is, tear away his sheepishness, that beautiful flush he’d get, the brightness in his voice. All the things that Y/N loved most about him, all the things that Kai knew Y/N liked about him.

“I’m glad.”

Kai’s words seemed to fizzle out, fade into the beginnings of the morning hallway’s rumblings. An awkward silence hasn’t washed over them like this, clung to them like cheap perfume, in the longest time; ever since they were first ironing out their small-talking skills. Y/N didn’t know what he was expecting with Kai, and he wanted to be so happy that Kai was back, but he couldn’t help but feel this sadness burrowing into his heart like an itch he can’t scratch away.

He didn’t expect Kai to simply toss himself away like this, adopt this facade of vintage leather and cocky smirks as if this was always the person who was lying beneath. Kai was wearing more layers now, just taping over the scars of where the glue didn’t hold. He was simply managing. Y/N stared at him with this blank, wordless smile, trying to find something and anything to say to this person who felt as if he was slipping away from Y/N even more than he did before any of this was happening.

“I-”

“Y/N!”

Y/N whipped around, ripping his eyes away from Kai and all the ways he had changed, to follow the voice that called out to him. Among the crowd of students rushing to their classes before the first bell emerged Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu and Taehyun, all in their own takes on leather jackets similar to Kai’s. He hasn’t known them for as long Kai has, he was the last addition to their party - their much needed wizard with a knack for high-rolls and the charisma skill that literally none of them chose to invest in. Yet even Y/N noticed these stark changes among them, smudges of eyeliner on Soobin, this open-mouthed, perpetually breathless smile that Yeonjun has going on, Beomgyu’s hair grown out, pinned up and dyed, and Taehyun with this hardness to his eyes that was too similar to Kai’s for comfort.

Now Y/N just wanted to know what happened while they were gone, what kind of metamorphosis they had to go through to have these holes torn out in their bright, vivid and beautiful butterfly wings. Yeonjun took him in first, and the rest reached in shortly after to get their fair share of Y/N’s hugs.

“We missed you more!” Soobin said, his glee wasn’t as brilliant as it seemed to be either. Y/N looked back to Kai, who made his way around to form a circle by Y/N’s now closed locker.

“Well, now that the party’s back together again…” Yeonjun started, his gaze moving along each of them. “We heard about this party going on tonight and we were wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“Damn,” Y/N felt so many things, there was too much confusion in his head to keep staring back at everyone with this unassuming, blank and passive shine anymore. “You guys just got back, and you already want to party again?”

“Well yeah, I mean a lot’s changed since we’ve been away.” Beomgyu shrugged, scratching at the back of his head. Y/N wanted to roll his eyes with how obvious that was, but stopped himself as he was wondering why he was so frustrated in the first place, and how frustrated he’s been the moment he caught the way Kai’s eyes didn’t seem to sparkle the same. “Parties are just where we like to spend our time now.”

“What about our campaign…?” Y/N felt hopeless, how could his friends change so suddenly like this? Y/N felt lost, he didn’t know where he was with them surrounding him like this. He wanted to go back, back to Beomgyu’s absurdly thick-framed glasses, Taehyun’s dorky smile, Yeonjun’s earnest insanity, Soobin’s wrinkled and chunky sweaters…

Kai’s everything…

“We’re on the last stretch, and Fridays are always our D&D nights…” Y/N chewed away at his lip, his realizations, his longings beginning to close in on him. He shrunk back into the book he held pressed to his chest now, and everyone immediately rushed forward with guilt already flooding every inch of them. “I mean it’s not time sensitive, if you guys wanna go to the party then go.”

“No- I mean.” Kai was the first to say something, stammering over himself and hugging Y/N’s arm. “It’s just-”

“Kai…” Y/N stopped Kai before he could stumble and trip over himself. “It’s okay, we can just do it tomorrow or something…?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Soobin wrung his hands out, wincing as he caught the feelings that churned just beneath the surface of Y/N’s pursed lips. “You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Yeah, I’ll just stay home… Parties aren’t really my thing.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the bell rang its shrill cries throughout the hallway and the traffic in the hallway was only thickening with even more clusters of students taking up space. The rattle of lockers, the footsteps drowning out the wordlessness between the six boys, the chatter that swallowed up what remained, it sent the six of them in their respective directions already.

“We’ll meet up later then!” Kai tried to keep this brightness in his voice, but the light in his words was working hard enough to convince itself, it couldn't convince anybody else. All he could think about now was how he left Y/N behind, how in the midst of his heartbreak, he left Y/N to wonder how Kai picked up the pieces and did nothing but count down the few days Kai said he was going to be gone for. Kai nudged Y/N in the side, hoping that this contact - his hands grazing Y/N’s, this folding of space as he took Y/N in his side - would help with all the tension he could feel wound up in Y/N. “We’ll say goodbye before we leave, does that sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

Following the bell’s call, the six of them split off to their classes, with Y/N and Kai, walking side by side on their way to their chemistry classroom. Where things started, and changed in a single bat of eyelashes and a flash of a smile.

It was about an hour after Y/N bid Kai and their friends an awfully dramatic goodbye under the flickering warmth of his porchlight, and Y/N already felt this emptiness creeping into him and the space between his fidgeting hands. He was missing Kai already, as if he was still out in the city, past the skyline that was nothing but a blurred line to them just a week ago.

Maybe part of Kai was still there, the Kai he hugged on the rooftop, the Kai who wept into his shoulder and didn’t see foolishness in his want and yearning. The Kai in ill-fitting cardigans, eager to keep the sunlight on both their shoulders, he was gone, escaped and drawn in by the moonlight. Y/N closed his eyes as he curled into the corner of his couch, looking at all the other empty seats and finding it hard to breathe in the silence. He didn’t want to focus on how everything’s changed, he’s done that for too long with absent stares toward the blackboard. And he also didn’t know if he was allowed to feel these things, to feel as if something were missing in the way Kai looked at him now, looked at anyone - it all happened so quickly, Kai dismissed every part of himself so quickly.

Y/N wished he went to the party, if not to simply get used to who Kai wanted to be now. Maybe the deafening music, blinding strobe lights, and the shitty liquor that would leave his brain swallowed up by this numbness, this ease, would help him see Kai a little bit better.

Perhaps Y/N was just being dramatic, feeling as if he were out of control in a world that seemed to move on without him. Playing with his feelings, his unsaid words, his with-held love - that’s what it was, love - between his hands didn’t make him feel any better. He just wasn’t ready for all of this.

Y/N was ripped away from his thoughts as his phone cried out from under his leg where he tucked it away - he knew that if it were in his line of sight he’d constantly be checking the time, adding onto the days and hours that Kai and their friends have left him to stay the same while they changed the way their few lilac skies carved out their names. And as Y/N checked the screen to see who it was he nearly fell off the couch.

It was Yeonjun, the picture Y/N set for him pulsing on his screen, shoving itself toward him. With a confused hum, Y/N picked up the call and was instantly greeted by drunken screams struggling above the rumble of the music’s bass. He could hear a stammer of footsteps, probably Yeonjun rushing away from the noise to scream into his phone. “Y/N!?”

“Yeah. Hello, what’s up?” Even among all the noise, Yeonjun managed to find a way to always be louder.

Y/N chuckled a bit and thought back to how Yeonjun won every shouting match all of them would have, whenever Taehyun would make the wrong move or Y/N and Beomgyu would cast the wrong spells. All it took was a single jut of his lip and chin for it to be over in seconds, then it was relentless. Y/N wondered if it was too late to ask for those kinds of days back, or if they were already behind them, if their promise to revert back to who they were tomorrow was just to humour Y/N.

“It’s Kai, he’s gone!”

Y/N shot up from the couch. “What do you mean?”

“Kai left…” Y/N could hear the panic in Yeonjun’s voice. “We tried to follow him but we lost him in the crowd. We’ve been looking all over but he’s not here!”

“Shit… Shit, shit.” Y/N paced around the living room for a while, mumbling curses into the phone he knew Yeonjun couldn’t hear anyway.

“We don’t know where he could've gone!”

“Did you call him!?” Y/N was already shrugging on one of his worn jackets, slipping into his shoes in a rushed stumble.

“He’s not picking up.” Yeonjun’s breathing grew panicked and heavy, Y/N could almost feel the way it was laced with too much vodka for Yeonjun to keep a level head. “I don’t know where he could’ve gone.”

“It’s okay Yeonjun, stay calm okay?” Y/N was frantic, too, but he couldn’t let any of them panic. They were braver before they dawned those leather jackets as if it were some kind of armour. “The party’s in the area, right?”

“Yeah.” Yeonjun breathed out, shaky but steadying. Y/N could hear a slap of his hands against a countertop or surface or something, maybe Yeonjun was steadying himself. Yeonjun was always the first to admit how Y/N was always there to comfort the rest of them; he was their safe place and they left him all alone, so far away, for so long. “Yeah, it’s close to the school.”

Y/N began to think of where Kai could’ve gone, the places that Kai would seek asylum when Y/N wasn’t there to meet him on rooftops or across diner tables with a single plate of french fries between them. “I think I have an idea of where he went, make sure the rest of you are alright and in order. Don’t stop trying to call him.”

“Okay, Y/N… Thank you.”

“Did you seriously just thank me for going out to find Kai?” Y/N locked the door, fumbling with his keys and instantly set out in the direction of all their memories, the one part of Kai and him that Y/N hoped he hadn’t thrown away and shoved aside in service of a single, heartless person who convinced him he had no value.

“I… Yes…”

“That’s dumb, but you do owe me iced coffee for life for making me go running this late!”

“All the coffee you want Y/N…” Yeonjun tripped over his laughter as a clamour of voices began to bloom around him. Y/N could hear Yeonjun talking with Soobin and calming down Beomgyu and Taehyun, assuring them that Y/N’s going to help. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way they all instantly seemed to feel an ease at the mention of Y/N’s name.

Maybe he was still Kai’s safe haven too.

Y/N hung up and made his way further down the street, thinking harder about all the places Kai would go if he were lost. Which trail of their footprints littered across the town he would follow, where would he go to clear his head, empty his thoughts and feel peace? Y/N wanted to be confident that Kai’s immediate response, his yearning for comfort would bring him to the place Y/N was thinking of, the place Y/N was running to. Y/N had nothing but blind faith and moonlit intersections to guide him back there, the place where things may not have officially started, but the place where the sunlight would always catch Kai’s eyes just right.

It was the place where they shared that beautiful, comforting silence between them. A hill, a throne weathered and worn picnic tables scattered among exposed roots, patchy grass and these blossoms like shattered moonlight that only seemed to bloom under the shadows of the picnic tables’ seats. It was where Kai plucked one from the ground and tucked it behind Y/N’s ear in a gesture they never shared before that, a place where their stare has never lingered on one another for that long, where the night’s light and darkness have never danced so brilliantly in Kai’s eyes before. Y/N wanted to take that leap of faith, ask Kai to be more than ‘party members’ right there and then.

He remembered how Kai commented that Y/N had a piece of starlight behind his ear now, yet it never shone as bright as he did. With the way they giggled into the coral sky, their breaths making ripples in the lilac clouds, Y/N was convinced that Kai was joking. But what he didn’t notice as he looked back out to the sky was how long Kai’s stare lingered on him after that, and for how many arduous seconds, Kai contemplated inching his fingertips a little closer to feel Y/N’s hand under his touch. What would it feel like to hold them?

Y/N ran down the sidewalk until he saw a clearing in the forest across from the school. The canopy was too thick for most people to be brave enough to hike through, yet, it was one of the first things Y/N and Kai did together. No matter what they were against, where they found themselves, it was always Kai who made Y/N feel alright, and it was always Y/N who Kai sought for, the person Kai wanted to see on the end of all his days - good, bad, the ones in between, and all the ones they haven’t had yet.

When Y/N makes his way to the end of the path, all he could see was the moonlit night on the other side and a figure carved right into the middle, eclipsing the sapphire moon and all its subjects in the suburbs lying beneath the hill. Y/N breathed out as the silhouette shifted - he could recognize the way the sky carved out Kai and all of his perfections whether it be night or day, sunset or the sunrises they always slept through.

There Kai was, sitting on the end of a picnic bench, feet kicking about restlessly under him, and his leather jacket shed from his shoulders as if it were a second skin, it laid on the grass, forgotten and forlorn.

“Kai!” Y/N’s voice sent Kai whipping around to meet his voice, and Kai instantly stood from his seat. He shone a relieved, dazed smile as Y/N ran over and met him at the bench; and Y/N didn’t realize until too late how wrung dry of breath he was. “We were so worried about you! Yeonjun said you just ran off!”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Kai’s voice sounded so fragile as he sat back down and patted the space next to him. Y/N didn’t waste a second in making his way closer and checking to see if Kai was alright. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“Well someone who’s okay wouldn’t leave a party unannounced like that. It’s okay not to be alright, Kai… I was just so scared…” His voice was hoarse, cracking under the weight of every word. He couldn’t quite look Kai in the eye, he was too scared of what he would find as their stares met. Kai kept his gaze on the way Y/N’s hands delicately traced his own, finding something to do as his panic failed to subside under both of their deep breaths. “Did you have too much to drink? You shouldn’t be alone if that’s the case. Did something happen-”

“No, Y/N… I didn’t drink… I couldn’t.” Kai took Y/N’s hand on his own and looked out to the sky, his lip trembling. “I wanted to leave, I wanted to get out and get away from there.” All those feelings churning within him all came rushing back, that nauseating feeling of failing to belong, the confirmation of all the things his heartbreak told him. “I should’ve called you or something, I shouldn’t have expected you to find me… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, what matters is that you’re safe, you dumbass.” Y/N chuckled as Kai leaned his head on Y/N’s shoulder, his gaze wandering up to where the clusters of stars shone brightest - they peaked beneath the indigo drapes of what was left of the clouds. “I just… Everything that she told you, anything that incident implied or showed you - that you’re not worth it, that you don’t deserve it, that you needed to change who you are - she couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Kai shuffled closer, bringing his chin further up Y/N’s shoulder. “I was an idiot to change myself for something as purposeless as her. But I did, I changed every bit of me hoping that whatever faults I had the first time could be cured… I ended up leaving you behind in the process, I left myself behind, too… I’ll never forgive myself for that, I’m… I…” Kai found himself lost for words as he lifted himself off Y/N’s shoulder to see frustrated tears threatening to trip over Y/N’s lashes, his lip drawn between his teeth, thai strange, withheld feeling stirring within him and seeping out in his struggling breaths. “Y/N, I appreciate you so much.”

“I know, I- I think I know… It’s just…” Y/N fought with his words, with the way they choked him and suffocated him. Kai’s arm around his shoulder was relief enough. “You didn’t need to change yourself, Kai… Nothing about you is wrong, you’re perfect, okay? I was just so confused and lost and frustrated because you threw all the things I loved about you away, and when you came back like that, all I could think about was what I could’ve done wrong, how I could’ve helped you heal a little bit more.”

Kai was silent and he let his mouth hang open as Y/N continued. He always had an idea about all the feelings that Y/N left unsaid, and he felt so ashamed of himself that it took him this long to finally allow Y/N to feel like he was able to share them.

“I love you, Kai… I really love you, and it hurts so much to see you just cast yourself away like that because I don’t know what to do with myself if you’re not you. If you’re not you, then I don’t feel like me. I love everything about you, you’re everything to me and I don’t know if I can handle all the things that made me love you and make me keep loving you simply not being there…” Y/N shuddered, out of relief or complete and utter shock he didn’t quite know yet.

All he could feel was the way the weight of all his pent-up, twisted and imprisoned feelings left him - like a breath he’s been holding for far too long.

Y/N flinched when Kai took him by the shoulders and turned him around, Kai fixing Y/N’s wandering eyes in his own, his hands making their way down to Y/N’s and wrapping around Y/N’s trembling fingers. He wasn’t going to leave again, he wasn’t going to desert one of the only people who has ever loved him and never expected anything less. He felt the aftershock of all his longing stares on Y/N’s eyes and lips and smile, all the grins he’d shine whenever the melody of Y/N’s laughter filled the room, and all the fire in his heart whenever they’d have moments of comfortable silence staring out into skies of colours they could’ve never conceived.

“I… Y/N…” Kai bunched their hands together, taking a breath before getting ready to take this leap of faith that looked so much clearer than he could’ve imagined. He was more than ready. “I hate how it’s taken me this long to realize how I’ve never really appreciated you for all the ways you love and accept me. I feel so stupid that I’ve taken you for granted, that I left you with nothing and came back empty-handed and leaving you even more confused and angry at everything. But I do appreciate you, please know that. I appreciate you so much, I like and love you so much and I care for you so much Y/N… I’ve always loved you… I shouldn’t have ever changed for anyone because you were always there accepting me for who I am. You’re the only person that matters and the only person that makes me feel so happy and grateful for your friendship - yeah, there’s the others, but no one makes me feel quite like you.”

The stars hung still, moonlight pulled tight between them. Their words were suspended into the night air to the point where Y/N and Kai could practically feel them falling against their shoulders. There was this quiet that made its way between them, but it wasn’t as tense, taut or as thickly suffocating as they expected. In fact, there was this ease to it, as if everything they had said fell into the perfect places.

“I love you, Y/N, and I love you for all the ways you love and accept me and more.” Kai continued, breathless as he watched Y/N’s eyes shimmer and glow with this joy, happiness and relief that only made Kai’s smile shine even brighter, stretch wider. “I’ll love you more than anyone in the world, I’ll never change and I’ll never want you to change.”

“Kai… I…” Everything hung in the air. As they stared at each other, they felt as if they were stuck in this stillness; a passage between feeling nothing but the shimmer of starlight on their skin, and every single thing that danced in between them and lit up in their eyes.

It was all the words they never thought they’d be brave enough to say, all the feelings they’ve had for as long as they could remember. Now they were finally out there, their worlds sent spinning.

Yet they didn’t lose their balance for even a moment, this was the revolution their skies were always supposed to be in.

“I mean it, I really do.” Kai didn’t spare any space, any wasted seconds of flickers in the night, to bring his hands up to Y/N’s face - his fingers curling around Y/N’s cheeks and burning under the flush he could feel blooming there. As he looked at Y/N’s smile, the moonlight igniting every inch of it, Kai felt intoxicated, head spinning and sunlight in his veins, more than any shot he pretended to like could ever do to him. Y/N’s face, Y/N’s brilliant quiet, the way he peered up and gravitated to Kai’s lips, it was all worth more than anything Y/N could’ve said back.

There was this pull, this dizziness, then suddenly it felt as if everything, every single sensation, erupted and ignited as he brought Y/N in close and even closer.

Y/N’s lips on his, that spark and shine of starlight between their teeth as it burned through them, Kai felt himself unable to pull back - he didn’t want to, never wanted to. It was something that he wanted to drown in forever and never breach the surface. He wanted everything they were and everything they weren’t to shrivel up into the embers bursting under his fingertips and trailing Y/N’s as his hands cradled Kai’s cheek’s, pulled him in, left their gravity to shatter into pieces and left everything to spin so wildly.

As they pulled back and it felt as if everything fell from their view, two shooting stars crash-landing on earth with nothing to show for themselves but the starlight they left on each other’s skin and on each other’s lips.

“I guess I didn’t roll that perception check to realize how much I loved you…”

“Well, you came to your senses eventually.” Y/N snickered with a bright grin, and Kai immediately leaned back in to kiss it, get a taste of Y/N’s light and revel in the way it made him burn up.

If they were from another world, if they spoke their own language through whispers and smiles, high hopes, low rolls and five tombs of board-game instructions that they pretend to understand, if they choose to rule their own kingdom of rooftops and trails in forests nobody else dares to tread, if only they were able to see each other for all their perfects that were perfectly imperfect, then that was all they needed.

All they will ever need.

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

lonely hearts club; zhong chenle

(12,685) words - large

summary ➣ Y/N follows this unknown impulse to the gym to find his school's star basketball player, Zhong Chenle, all by himself. These two borderline strangers spend a little more time together than they intended to, and find out that they're a little less alone than they were used to thinking.

genre ➣ angst ( + fluff )

note ➣ This is ending six of seven for the dear dream series. This story takes place right after the dear dream prologue, an ‘alternate’ to endings such as runaways (Jaemin), stars around scars (Mark), and the others.

The prologue is a decent place to start for a little bit of context. However, lonely hearts club is also able to bed read on its own. So, if you just want a little bit of Chenle content, then happy reading ♡

-: ✧ prologue — mark - renjun - jeno - haechan - jaemin - chenle - jisung ✧ :-

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

The lights submerging Y/N’s breaths in the memory of how easy they used to be to let out, the dapples of golden sunlight tying in knots on his skin; it was too much for Y/N to take and too difficult for him to focus on anything related to the biology textbook open in front of him. Words and paragraphs seemed to shift and change the moment Y/N looked away for too long, nothing between the lines made sense. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

Y/N was so used to not knowing the answers, but now, these past few weeks, Y/N’s finally been forced to fill in blanks he's not quite ready to yet. He’s still dealing with the blanks being there in the first place.

Letting out one more breath, Y/N swung his bag over his shoulder and tucked in his chair, however, his silent steps out the door were cut off almost instantly.

“Hey!” The whispers of Y/N’s tattered sneakers against the classroom tiles were torn to shreds by a voice whose underlit rasp ran through him like nobody else’s ever could. It was so familiar, like a home he never wanted to go back to - backpack gathered in his hands, always ready to run. But Lee Jeno always caught him, no matter where he ran or how far or in who’s arms he sought the fleeting sweetness of reprieve in next. “Watch it, dipshit!”

Y/N turned around to see Jeno’s already shot out of the seat just behind him. How long was he there? Sitting silently, glaring relentlessly into the back of Y/N’s head until he’d reduce the ends of Y/N’s sweater to ashes? The same sweater that still managed to cling to the warmth of the candlelight he and Renjun sat in back when they were diligent enough to remember their local library had a special room with ‘fire hazards’ galore decorating antique tables.

“Language, Mr. Lee!” The supply teacher sitting said harshly as he peered above the rim of his reading glasses, legs kicked up on the large desk at the head of the classroom. “I’ve been sending you to detention so much, you should get a loyalty card. Don’t make me send you again.”

“Whatever.” Jeno spat, but his voice rose above the subtle golds of the still sunlit sky pouring through the windows for Y/N to hear. “If your dumb ass bag hit me, I would’ve given you a reason to skip these classes.”

“Consider it a parting gift. It could help jump-start a few more brain cells of yours.” Y/N felt the fear, the knots in his throat that made all of his words fall apart the moment he could make them. He felt the butterflies Renjun would always set free in his stomach that Jeno would crush in his tightened fists the moment Y/N turned to meet his eyes. The ashes that scratched the surface of his skin, the morsels of dignity that Jeno would leave him with only to ravage them later. Y/N felt all of its weight and weightlessness, all Jeno’s given to him and all he’s taken; but for once, he didn’t care. He heard the lifeless creaking of the rolling chair their supply shifted in, he watched the flares of anger dance with such a passion in Jeno’s eyes.

But he also watched them slowly begin to flicker the longer Y/N’s frown threatened to become a snarl.

“Are you fucking kidding me…?” Jeno stepped closer, knuckles white from the tension of his balled-up fists. Y/N didn’t move back, didn’t falter, in fact, he began to think that Jeno’s question was almost laughable - or, at least, convinced himself of that. Y/N liked the idea of being amused at the fact that Jeno didn’t know what to say.

The idea was hanging by a thread, though, Y/N could feel his brashness dwindling. He didn’t know what was coming over him, but all he did know was that he wanted all of this to stop, and for him to match the smiles of the people who still made time in their lives to love him.

“No. I’m not.”

“Okay, boys, enough.” The supply teacher set down his glasses and book and began to round the table, ready to split up whatever this was and was going to unravel into becoming.

“You’re really stepping up to me? You think you’re doing something here?” Jeno shone this sinister smile as he didn’t get a response, nothing but the persistence of Y/N’s glare and the fact that he still hasn’t taken a step back from when Jeno stepped up to him. “There’s nobody here to protect you-”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me!” Y/N’s raised voice made the supply teacher flinch before he stood between them, trying to settle both of them down but failing miserably. All Y/N wanted to do was shove past the supply teacher and get in Jeno’s face again, to say anything he could to hurt him…

But he didn’t know how, he didn’t know what could hurt Jeno, if he could get hurt more than he already probably hurts inside.

“I just need you to leave me the fuck alone.” Y/N’s voice painfully quiet and breathless as all the anger Y/N held in his weathered hands and had wandering aimlessly across his bruised heart was just swept away in an instant. He wanted to be angry for longer, he wanted to feel the seething pain in his voice as he spat back whatever Jeno threw at him, pay his debts to the sole person responsible for leaving him broken and socially penniless for half his high school life. But he felt nothing but this emptiness as he let his final words trickle from his loosened frown.

With Jeno’s silence filling whatever space between them their supply teacher and his pitiful choice of sweater vests didn’t already take up, Y/N turned and slipped out the doorway, leaving Jeno and whoever was left to watch them stunned, speechless. The only thing he could feel was the withering fire of Jeno’s gaze on his back until he turned the corner, leaving only the sunlight kicked up from the hallway floors in his wake.

By the time Y/N made his way down the corridor, wearing himself down under the trying sunlight and the weathered, beaten down glow of the overhead lights on his shoulders, he finally realized what he had done. The high of confidence seeped from every fiber of his being, fading and washing away almost as quickly as it came in that classroom; the spark in Jeno’s voice that lit his fire was the exact same thing that put it out.

Y/N thought about everything they said, how close they were, Jeno’s tightened fists that threatened to whip up and pull him even closer by the collar. He felt something winding around his chest, something in between all the fear and relief and anxiety that he felt numb to at that moment, it was beating at him so hard he needed to take a breath at the stairwell door.

Finally finding a gap in his thoughts and all the things he couldn’t bring himself to think of, Y/N flicked out his phone again to see Renjun’s text still flashing on his phone’s lock screen:

‘Hey I’m really sorry we couldn’t hang out. I’m still free tonight to make up for yesterday.’

Y/N found himself at a loss looking over Renjun’s text, trying to find breath between every letter and in every line - even if there was only one line. It left him leaning against the doorframe, stuck in its spaces and fidgeting with whatever was left of the fragile golden sunlight that he didn’t rip apart with his still-shaking hands. There was something that Y/N wasn’t seeing, something that he needed to analyze in this, he knew it… What was Renjun trying to say?

However, as Y/N tried to venture deeper into the thought and memories and images behind Renjun’s words, it only made the text even more of an unintelligible blur. There was no reason, or at least one that Y/N couldn’t see without thinking about how Renjun was always ready to admit to mistakes he never made. A subtle - almost teasingly so - simmer of guilt began to course through Y/N, bubble beneath his skin as he could think about it now - how Renjun’s smile always seemed so close to collapsing, as if his stars had been burning too bright for far too long.

Renjun’s been the only light Y/N’s been able to count on, the only star hung in Y/N’s sky that he can still feel safe to wish on. But maybe all of that, Renjun adhering himself to Y/N’s washed-out skies, is what’s leaving him burnt out and worn with his light fading. All of that, all of those things that Y/N had a vague idea of observing, and he still couldn’t figure out why…? He could not think of what he’s done, or what has happened to one of his only friends that makes the guilt and regret run through him, blooming as thorns in his sides.

Y/N wished he had made it more blatant, how much he appreciates Renjun. Rather than giving all of his attention to the ideas of things long gone that he’s still grieving, as if the loss meant anything to the people who seemed to have such ease in loosening the knots of starlit nights that Y/N thought bound them in more than blood and tears and tiny, handwritten notes slipped into lockers on Valentine’s day. He’s grateful for Renjun, and never wanted Renjun to ever bend and twist himself to the rules of a world that they were supposed to be creating together.

Taking out his phone once more, and looking over Renjun’s text that he still hasn’t answered - he wondered if Renjun was looking back through the screen - Y/N didn’t know why this was so hard to answer or respond to. Even now, thinking about how all the throwaway comments that Y/N never looked back at were some of the only things keeping Renjun afloat on his bad days that Y/N never knew about, the guilt swept him up like their coffee-stained Sunday mornings that they were just building a routine around.

With a loosely gathered breath, Y/N tapped into his phone, throwing out a message to a probably paranoid Renjun that ‘it’s fine’ and that he ‘didn’t need to make up for anything. I’m free tomorrow, though, there’s something I need to make up for’.

Y/N had so much to say, so much to talk about; and all Y/N wants to do is to see Renjun standing in front of him and take him in by the shoulders and tell him how much he appreciates him. But Renjun wasn’t here by the time Y/N finally made his way into the school’s front foyer to escape the confines of the classrooms and hallways that seemed to carry a lot more memories that Y/N ever remembered. They always showed up when Y/N least wanted.

His instincts, the ones that gave Y/N those vague, colourless hints of how Renjun always seemed to feel; they seemed to sense Renjun just passing by, his silhouette lost among the twisting walls of the main level’s hallways.

Y/N shook his head, trying his best to avoid the cracks he could already feel forming in his resolve and not fall through. Somehow, it was so much harder to stop the quivering in his hands when Jeno wasn’t there. And Y/N didn’t have anything to distract him from the bitterness that churned in his stomach at the thought of all the things Jeno’s taken from him, at least, until he pushed himself past the flickers of satisfaction upon texting Renjun back and looked up across the foyer.

Practically encased in the copper glow of the sunlight pouring in through the foyer’s skylight, the entrance to the gymnasium stood, painted in the blush of the sunset’s sky. One of the doors was cracked half-open and sounds slowly trickled out, a solitary melody that flittered about in the oddly stark darkness of the gym - echoes of sneakers screeching against the floor, sighs of a basketball slipping through the next almost effortlessly. The faint, but familiar sound of after-hours sports practice brought Y/N closer, dragged him across the tiles. There was something so singular about the sounds as he grew closer, the pounding of a basketball against the scuffed gym floors, how everything Y/N heard weaved in and out of itself so seamlessly, as if it found a rhythm in itself.

Y/N’s school had good basketball players, great even - most of the varsity basketball team was already more than halfway through the doors of some of the best post-secondary sports programs in the state on full scholarship. However, not many assumed a presence like this, as if their intensity was palpable, weighed down the air and peeled back the flourishes of Sunlight leaking in through the half-opened gym door.

And then, a brief shine of red and black flashing through the gap in the open door. All Y/N could think about was that morning: Chenle and the brandish of the morning light against the red and black leather letterman jacket, the warmth of his hands as he helped Y/N up and brushed against his when he neatly tucked Y/N’s books back under his arm.

Chenle’s indifferent, courteous smile that was a shimmer off from friendly; how his eyes lit up in such a subtle way when he made that Joke about Jane Austen; and then the way he brushed it off with a barely noticeable wave as if it never happened - boarding up that window of time where Chenle acted and smiled and chuckled and presented himself in a way that Y/N has never seen.

It all stayed in Y/N’s head the moment they parted ways and swept themselves up into the crowds around them - where Chenle belonged, but where Y/N didn’t.

Y/N didn’t know why, but whatever pulled him closer kept tugging. This unknown impulse he could feel spreading beneath the surface of his skin where his scars and barely healed wounds lay, where the stains of sleepless nights and afternoons of held hands and broken promises he tried to forget settled. It lingered there for a moment with a simmer, a whisper of starlight hidden below the horizon until he finally made his way through the space in the door.

Maybe it was just to say ‘thanks’ for helping Y/N pick up his books and not scramble around in his embarrassment alone, maybe it was something else - that smile that Chenle shone him, it was so different to the ones he saw him put on everywhere else.

He didn’t have time to think about it further, as Y/N rounded the corner to see Chenle dribbling the ball with such precision and speed, burning deliberate, meticulous circles into the gym floor with agile footwork that the whole school was familiar with whenever they crowded on the gym’s built-in bleachers to watch his games, fill them to capacity.

Whether people really knew the person behind that footwork, the heavy breaths that fell to the red and white blur Chenle’s Jordans made as he maneuvered down the court; Y/N didn’t know for sure. Part of him, the pessimist always there in every folded, wrinkled, and torn corner of his thoughts, hopes Chenle didn’t either. He didn’t want Chenle to know the answers to the questions people probably didn’t bother to ask when the game was over.

By the time Y/N blinked in the darkness of the gym - only the faint coral glow of the sunset-lit sky leaking through small, high-placed windows helping Y/N make out Chenle’s outline - Chenle was already weaving in between invisible walls of people and scoring basket after basket until he was but a tangle of red, black, and all the colours of the sky caught up in his hair from his lunch periods spent standing on picnic tables with the people who’ve assigned themselves to him.

They were always loud enough to hear from where Y/N and Renjun would sit, and Y/N would always hear his laughter and think about how it always sounded the same - the faint light of a chuckle, a shriek tearing it apart at its end. It sounded rehearsed, something that he’s practiced almost as much as his half-court shots that he’s been renowned for since he took the basketball team by storm in freshman year.

“Hey-”

Y/N tried to speak up, but Chenle already caught the outline of Y/N’s figure, the momentary stretch of his shadow, from the corner of his eye.

“Did you need something?”

Chenle’s tongue was wring dry, his voice peeled from his breathless chest. He caught his ball as it rebounded off the backboard with his eyes still on Y/N, who was nervously shifting and nearly speechless.

“N- no, I mean…” Y/N stumbled over himself, this felt so different than their interactions just this morning, as if Chenle saw him as someone else. He didn’t know what slight apprehension had been Chenle’s default setting for the last couple weeks - Chenle was waiting for that moment, that indication that he could let down the walls he’s only just now started to build.

He was tired of being the gullible, eager popular guy who’s just looking to be liked, he was tired of being more of a status symbol than a real person, and he was tired of constantly recognizing it just late enough to deal with the way it burned when he was reminded of how lonely he really was.

“I just wanted to say thank you…? For earlier…? Nobody else on the team would be insane enough to practice after hours on a Friday, so I assumed that you were here when I saw the door open.” Scratched at the back of his head, trying to ease his laughter in the space between them, but he was so far that it fell off into the silence Chenle left him in. Chenle was just trying to process what Y/N said, how he said it, the light in his eyes, what was there, what wasn’t there. Everything he taught himself to do, what to look for.

Chenle didn’t want to bother looking at Y/N more than he needed to, but he couldn’t help but hold his gaze on Y/N just a little bit more for good measure. How he was silhouetted by the foyer lights pouring in through the doors Y/N pushed further open, his nervous yet observant eyes, his silence that always seemed to say more than anyone ever has to him.

He found himself remembering the warmth of their interaction from the morning, too. The fragile sparks that ran between their hands as his fingers grazed Y/N’s. That fire, that momentary blooming of light, it was gone the moment he realized it was there.

That’s what that kind of warmth always was to Chenle; transient, fleeting and temporary, always ripped away from him, pulled out from under him the moment he gets used to it, feeling the sunlight’s shine in a way he’s always wanted to. He never could hold the sunset’s golden shine in his hands for long - it always lost its colour whenever he held on for too long.

Chenle figured out the hard way, that the tighter he clung to a flickering flame, desperate to keep it close, the faster it died. Sometimes, he finds himself slipping on the ashes of his dwindled flames every now and then, when he spots the faces of those in the crowds at his games that he shared too much with - stars he flew too close to. They were always there, watching him play; cheering when he scored, yelping when he almost missed, protesting the referee’s calls whenever something would tip just out of Chenle’s favour. But it seemed that they were never there for Chenle by the time the buzzer was beat.

Chenle kept his voice calm and stern as he looked over Y/N and found himself unable to look away, trying his best to remain unforgiving and stern with his response. However, it didn’t stop his words from being any less stupid than how they sounded in his head.

“Really…?”

Chenle’s response left Y/N cocking his head, almost holding back a chuckle until he realized that Chenle was maybe trying to be serious. Was he genuinely surprised…?

“Yeah, really. You kinda saved me from feeling the full force of my embarrassment, so…” Y/N trailed off, he could feel Chenle’s disinterest even from the distance at which he was standing. He started to regret doing the least he could so someone who’s always responded to his existence with something that was always better than nauseating disgust or blatant disregard. Chenle was nice to him, nodding to him in the hallway whenever they sustained awkwardly long eye contact, and even talking Jeno down a couple times whenever things were one misstep away from going too far between him and Y/N. “The least you deserve is for me to say ‘thanks’.”

He wondered why there seemed to be such a sudden turn in Chenle, more importantly, he tried to understand. Chenle wasn’t giving him a lot to work with, though.

Their silence was painful, it almost burned, until Chenle finally spoke into it, fidgeting with the basketball he had between his hands. Now, it was his turn to be uncertain, to look at Y/N and see all the times Chenle wished he could do more for him. Y/N was here to repay Chenle’s ‘kindness’, Chenle knew that, he observed Y/N enough in wayward stares across the cafeteria or in small smiles Chenle would give to Y/N’s back as they would be walking down the hall to completely different classes. Repaying ‘kindness’ was just a transaction that Chenle was never able to get used to for long.

“Uhm…” Chenle felt his guard slowly slipping, and he let it. He’s seen what Y/N’s had to go through, and he rightly assumed that the last thing Y/N would ever want to do was to use Chenle in the ways that he feared. “If you wanna stay and talk, I’m gonna just practice for a few more minutes…”

Y/N tilted his head again, trying to regain his balance from Chenle’s sudden invitation, the shift in the golden tides of sunlight that felt as if they were pulled taut around them. They were loosening, however, and for the first time in the lifetime that passed in the last few weeks, Chenle felt partially okay with that.

Y/N didn’t know what to do, how to handle Chenle’s invitation to spend more time in the gym than Y/N thought. But maybe this was what Y/N needed to take his mind off everything else, wasting a day with someone who wanted to trust him, who wanted to spin sunlight between them.

"I'll wait." Y/N said as he shuffled over to the bleachers, perching himself on its lowest seat with his hands in his lap. By the time Y/N got as comfortable as he could on the bleacher seat’s hard plastic, Chenle already sunk another shot into the net, a rough breath following him as he jogged after the ball. “How’d you make that look so easy? That was amazing!”

“You’re sounding just like everyone else…” Chenle let his words escape him before he could catch onto them and hold them back. Y/N sounded so much like those who’d sing his praises and buy out space to watch his games and parade him around like some sort of vicarious accomplishment, yet still didn’t know his birthday, where he liked to eat to celebrate his wins; sometimes, they knew no more than the last name on his jersey, not even his first.

Maybe the thought of Y/N, the thoughts of Y/N he’s had for a while, were just that. Wishful pleas that gave the benefit of all his doubts.

“Everyone else…?” Y/N tried not to take Chenle’s statement too personally, looking up with still, indifferent eyes that left Chenle feeling worse than if Y/N was hurt by what he said.

“Yes. Everyone else.” Chenle said, feeding into Y/N’s question, rubbing at his temple with his free hand and pinching the bridge of his nose as he made his way closer to where Y/N was sitting.

Y/N watched as Chenle seemed to unravel in his own distress, it was painful to watch. And even more painful not knowing what was causing it. “What d’you mean-”

"So you came in here just to say thanks. You don't want anything...? Nothing at all...?" Chenle didn’t answer the question, all the tension making his ears ring and coiling up in his throat snapping as he just blurted his words out. Voice abrupt and sharp, his breath worn thin in a way he knew Y/N’s never seen.

He didn’t want to blame Y/N for anything, but he couldn’t help but feed into all the speculation he’s conditioned himself into doing the moment someone claims to pay his kindness back, walk up to him with a smile and a compliment.

It was so exhausting, needing to try and see through the eyes of everyone who asks how he’s doing - then again, people weren’t really concerned with how their star basketball player was doing, only how large he made the point difference between their school and anybody else who were looking to dethrone Chenle’s unstoppable force.

“Just to say thanks… Is that such an uncommon thing?” Y/N started to piece things together, and the more he read into Chenle’s crumbling frustrations, the sadder he became. He should’ve known of the pristine veneer that hid all the dents in Chenle’s armour, he should’ve guessed that not everything was like it seemed whenever he could see Chenle’s smile dying before the rest of his team or group or posse or whoever clung to him for social momentum.

“If you only knew…” Chenle said it quietly enough for only the weathered sunlight spilled down his back to hear.

He wanted to know Y/N enough to say it louder, and sometimes, when his subconscious slipped out from under him, he was convinced he did know Y/N. Through Jeno’s rants about this ‘jackass’ talking back to him in a way he knew only Y/N could; the way Y/N’s name was tangled up in conversation whenever he stayed for a little bit too long with the baseball team, and how the person he learned was Y/N’s ex-best-friend, Jisung, would just keep his eyes down before speaking up about a memory he had with Y/N. Jeno would always shut him down, tell him to pick a side before leaving them in a silence that submerged the rest of their lunch period.

Most importantly, it was that one day, freshman year, that made Chenle think the most of Y/N. An evening after last period, the P.E. class they shared, left in the dreadful and awkward silence left to decay in the locker room by Chenle’s basketball teammates. The conversation Y/N and Chenle had to fill in the quiet’s spaces was too cathartic and candid for people who flames to have barely met. It felt like they knew each other beyond stolen glances across morning-lit hallways, and mistranslated stories passed on through middle parties that Chenle would catch onto whenever he took a break from listening to Jeno talk about himself.

However, that was always what happened when Chenle jumped to conclusions, liked people too quickly and dove blindly into waters that were never there for long. He’d convince himself that he had friends, that nobody would want to hurt him - look to cast him away when his shine as a novelty has worn out; he would always recognize it too late no matter how many times it happened. By the time his scars had settled and upon the realziation that there was nobody out there to draw stars and hearts around them, that was when he truly knew how alone he was.

Chenle didn’t know why, but for some reason, Y/N felt different. The way he listened, spoke to him, the way they moved closer to each other on that locker room bench as they spoke, and the way Chenle was welcome to smooth his hands down Y/N’s back as he hung his head under the weight of their words. It was unlike anything Chenle ever experienced, and he found himself wanting something like that ever since. Even now he can feel it, Y/N listening.

As Chenle sat himself down on the bench next to Y/N, water bottle clutched tightly in his hands, he could remember that locker-room conversation as clearly as if a year and a half of social misadventures and placing his trust in the wrong hands countless times didn’t dilute its memory - a held breath in the mundanity of another week.

He remembered YN murmuring about being stuck in a class filled with brain-dead jocks, and Chenle agreeing with a bitter chuckle. He recalled talking about feeling like a sore thumb on that team, and everything he and Y/N tackled about tumbling downhill from there.

Loneliness and Jeno and Jisung, then feeling weak and friendless and Jeno and Jisung and Chenle’s imposter syndrome and people Chenle named but Y/N doesn’t know, then feeling spend and powerless and themselves and the things they never thought they’d let out in the open…

If it wasn’t for Chenle reading Y/N’s shortening responses and shifting gaze - and then their P.E. teacher’s call into the change room: ‘alright lovebirds! Wrap it up in there!’ which made them both sheepishly chuckle - they would’ve kept going and stumbling and falling over all the things they never knew they were struggling so hard with.

They would've kept finding the security in each other's eyes, fed into the unsaid pledges of secrecy that ran between them, moved closer and closer into the obscure sense of comfort that somehow sparked between them. The school's shining star and a mere flicker in the vast expanse of the hallway's sky.

Turns out they were both burnt out, withered lights fooled into thinking they were suns; that they had gravity, light and purpose. But they didn't, they were drifting across the novas of all the others who fed on their glow and their memories and their love and their promises.

“I guess I don’t know.” Y/N said, his voice cutting finely through the silence.

Chenle flinched at Y/N’s response. He didn’t intend for Y/N to hear that, because he knew, to a certain extent, that Y/N did know.

“It feels like I don’t know anything anymore…” Y/N’s voice died down, eyes trained to the notches in the scuffed floorboards and then to the way Chenle’s Jordans swayed idly to the sound of Y/N’s meek whimpers into the sunset-stained air.

“Y/N…” Chenle wanted to find a way to comfort Y/N. His sadness was so palpable, he felt it practically singeing his skin, wherever the sunlight settled.

Y/N caught onto his words a little too late, finding them fluttering remorselessly in the air, out for Chenle to hear. “Oh my God, I’m sorry…” Y/N stammered out, “I didn’t mean to projectile vomit my problems all over you.”

“No, Y/N, it’s okay. Really…” Chenle said, bringing his hand to settle on Y/N’s shoulder. He only realized what he did when Y/N shifted slightly under his touch. “I literally just did, and we’ve done it before. Plus, I think you deserve - at least need - a place to let it out.”

Y/N froze as he began to remember as well. The thick, nauseating haze of body spray dissipating in an instant when Chenle invited him shyly to the space next to him on the bench, the rest being history under their tongues when all of their fractured memories and longing sighs and bitten back words just spilled out of them. He almost forgot how little they spoke, yet how much they knew about each other. They found relief in the most uncommon of places.

“I… Uhm…” Y/N couldn’t find anything to say even when he scavenged for the ones he held back during that unnecessarily deep locker-room talk. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course…” It felt as if Chenle’s response only added to the stillness between them. However, Chenle stayed optimistic - despite everything he needed to do to keep his wounds from flourishing like the torturously persistent weeds that leaked out from the cracks of concrete by the basketball courts just outside the school boundaries. Oddly enough, he felt safe, safer than he’s ever felt in the longest time. He wanted to make Y/N feel the same way, too. “Do you like basketball…?”

“Bitch- what!?” Y/N considered Chenle’s question for a moment, shuddering at the thought of needing to participate in sports. “I haven’t chosen to run since freshman year…”

“Really…?” Chenle’s voice held this sarcastic drawl as a couple more memories from freshman year trickled into his mind like morning sunlight. He recalled lining up with Y/N, Jeno, and a few others that signed up for the freshman league soccer team by hastily arranged wooden benches in the gym that were promptly replaced with the massive plastic bleachers as soon as their new school achieved a sizable budget. The smiles they shone, the ball adorned with their made-up signatures held between Y/N and Jeno - the two best players of the season who seemed to cover and account for each other’s weaknesses so perfectly it was as if they were meant to stand on that front line together.

With the way that makeshift empire came tumbling down sophomore and junior year, though, Chenle wasn’t surprised that Y/N did his best to intercept those hits to his resolve like the punts down the field he would always make his way to before their opponents could. He and Jeno tore apart any defensive line that stood before, almost as meticulously and flawlessly they seemed to do it to each other one summer after.

“What about when you committed literal athletic terrorism on every other school when we were on the soccer team?” Chenle lit his words with a teasing smile that brought a small smirk to Y/N’s face. It wasn’t one of regret or painful hindsight, but one of reminiscence. He and Y/N were on the same team, but with Chenle always a field-length away on the defensive line, they never had much time to talk outside of when they’d accidentally catch each other half-naked, struggling with their cheap jerseys and cleats that were impossible to walk on solid floor with. “I guess a lot’s changed since freshman year.”

That remark that Y/N knew was an earnest attempt at a joke made his emerging smile falter a little bit. Chenle saw it, too, and started to regret the way he said it; his laughter faded almost instantly and he sifted through his thoughts to make Y/N feel better about everything that came rushing at them all of the sudden. It was just like their talk in the locker room, one misplaced step and here they were, tumbling down slippery slopes they’ve spent two and a half years climbing up.

“If you only knew…” Y/N mimicked Chenle’s breathy, laboured words and they both shared chuckles between them.

He just wanted to avoid the recognition of how much really has changed, how a single summer seemed to change their school’s tides as swift as a change in the seasons. The leaves fell and so did Y/N from the grace he was barely assured in the first place, now Y/N but another withered blossom on the sidewalk, trying to slip into the cracks before he crumbles under one too many springtime breezes.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Chenle said, breaching his laughter’s surface for a breath.

Y/N turned to Chenle, his eyes oddly lit up as he was barely able to hold back what he was about to say next.

When they locked eyes, Y/N attentive and listening like he always seemed to be with Chenle, that’s when Chenle’ continued. “How about we take your mind off all this shit? It’s a Friday night and we don’t need all of our woes keeping us up - we have Monday-through-Thursday to mope.”

He buried a chuckle under his breath when Y/N raised an eyebrow, still listening. He didn’t know if it was in anticipation, interest, or if he were just merely humouring him. But Chenle appreciated Y/N keeping his eyes on him, seeming to lightly trace Chenle’s sunlit figure - his hands as they fiddled with his water bottle, the way his sleeves draped over his shoulders, his earnest smile and passionate eyes.

“Let’s play some basketball! I always head to the courts at the end of the lot whenever I need to blow off some steam.” Chenle turned his head over to the back of the gym, the direction in which the basketball courts were, always waiting, as if he could see through the sunset’s glow coating the walls. He looked back to Y/N, the liveliness behind his eyes dying a little bit as he looked over the cringe that began to rightfully bloom on Y/N’s lips - outlined with a copper glimmer by the pretentious, mocking sunlight. “The view of the sunset’s best there, too…” Chenle kept his voice quieter, as if he wasn’t too sure that information was necessary.

He wanted to know if Y/N was more of a sunrise or sunset kind of guy, which one might be better to watch with Chenle by his side as colours from the horizon spilled and bled out into the skies in faint lilacs or coral-stained peonies or the yellow roses of the morning.

Chenle found himself thinking about which of these colours would’ve looked best as shimmers in Y/N’s eyes, at least, until Y/N’s voice tore him away from his trance.

“Chenle…” Y/N said, scratching at the back of his neck, flashes back to his prowess on the soccer team making him wince in disappointment, and those times in gym class - back when he was athletic ‘for fun’ - where he’d always be first pick on a team of people who liked him as much as they feared him on the field. He and Jeno were always on opposite teams because of that, and now, Y/N thinks of facing off with Jeno on the opposite end of the centre line as nothing but a sour sense of foreshadowing. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I literally can’t do sports. I get winded going up the stairs to my homeroom, so think about what would happen if I had to run while operating a basketball, and looking around, and breathing, and existing, and thinking... All at the same time!”

Bracing himself for what instantly came into his head, Chenle let it out with bated breath, already thinking of Y/N’s response - and his many non-responses. “At least I could say that I took your breath away…?”

“That was vile.” Y/N’s words didn’t match his grin, wide and brilliant as he rolled his eyes. His voice was tinged with the flickers of laughter, heavy with the weight of copper sunlight on his tongue. He haphazardly wondered if he’d be able to smile more like this, see Chenle smile along with him as they eased each other of their burdens with nothing but scraps of nostalgia and soft words, if he managed to catch Chenle practicing earlier.

He wished he did.

“But you sold me, let’s go.”

Y/N clung to his sweater as he and Chenle shoved themselves through the side exit of the gymnasium, the careless whispers of the breeze passing by, playing with their hair in heaves and chuckles against their sunlit skin. Their footprints in the field were swept over with each trickle of the breeze that came in through the gaps in the tree-line, carrying with it the coral and copper flush of the setting sun as it rested upon the silhouettes of rooftops and tall pines that jutted beyond backyard fences and lined cobbled paths that Y/N was sure he explored one day - the memories elude him now, and maybe for good reason.

The laughter that tumbled down from Y/N’s smile and probably still blooming in the cracks of the slate and hanging from the canopy of trees that filtered light through the green and yellow and red glass of the leaves that chattered amongst themselves in the wind. Y/N was sure that sooner or later, he would’ve tried to forget what that laughter meant to him, and recognized that he’d never be able to reclaim it.

Shaking his head from his thoughts, Y/N looked over to Chenle, who had his eyes on Y/N the entire time as they were walking over to the courts. Did he say something? Was he supposed to say something? Y/N felt this silent panic overtake him as he couldn’t find anything in Chenle’s eyes to work with, the sunset’s glow that caught itself in his gaze made him look so happy, so carefree, but with the way everything bubbled beneath the surface of the conversation they just had, Y/N didn’t know what to think or if this little session of Chenle tormenting Y/N on the court would take their minds off anything.

It was the thought that counts, at least.

“I promise I’ll go easy on you, if that’s what you're worried about…” Chenle, with one smooth movement that burst out of him like a held breath, he took Y/N in with an arm around the shoulders, bringing him closer. Y/N practically collapsed in Chenle’s comforting touch, barely keeping in mind that they’ve never been this close before. He liked it, though, he felt this warmth surge between them, leak from Chenle’s fingertips as he squeezed Y/N’s shoulder in reassurance with the brilliant smile that was plastered all over the school’s massive screens whenever they’d catch Chenle just after he made a shot in his games.

It was so wide and effortless. He only seemed to shine it in that split second in between then the timer counts down and the buzzer pulls him down from his high, that singular moment of happiness that only lasts for as long as all his senses run dry, his world is only the blurs in the crowds. That smile was there for only a brief moment of happiness and nothing else, and to see it laid out in front of him, Y/N couldn’t help but smile too.

Despite how little they’ve met and how much they seem to know about each other, Chenle felt this sense of freedom around Y/N that he hasn’t felt in the longest time; since the summer freed him from the shackles of his obligations and he was bound to no number on a team, no time to meet up with people who don’t care to know him, no days trying to differentiate between being lonely and alone, if he was both or neither or either or something else entirely. Y/N felt exactly like that, the warmth and weightlessness of the summers where Chenle didn’t feel the need to resist anything.

“Are you kidding? That’s the one thing I’m not worried about.” Y/N crossed his arms, nudging at Chenle’s side with this fake haughtiness in his pressed lips. He could only hold it for so long until Chenle’s scoff brought his smile right back. “Beating you is gonna be the easiest thing I’ll ever do this year.”

“That’s a bold opinion.” Chenle felt his chest swell, not in the ways it did whenever he’d catch onto trash-talk from his opponents across the gym or whenever a ‘joke’ made at his resident picnic table were a bit too pointed for comfort, but with this sweet feeling of pride and content.

He didn’t know if the pride he felt was for himself or in Y/N being unafraid to let a little bit of that sarcasm leak back into his voice, the same sharp melody that traced his rare but golden comebacks that he’d throw back to Jeno in the halls. They would always leave Chenle doubling over laughing until Jeno would finally threaten to shut him up when they reached their history class.

“But it’s okay to be wrong sometimes, I accept that about you.” With a condescending pat to Y/N’s shoulder, his laughter was sent spiralling into the sky when Y/N flashed a pointed glare once more, prodding at his side a little bit harder, but not shying away from where Chenle’s arm still wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders. “I hope you skipped lunch, cause I’m gonna make you eat your words!”

“Again, I don’t know if I should think that was clever or disgusting…” Y/N wanted to humour Chenle, so badly, but seeing his pout as Y/N considered him with nothing but a light eye roll lit sparks under his skin.

“It was fucking great and you know it!” Chenle brought Y/N in closer, arm around his neck, pressing the sides of their heads together as he jabbed his water bottle up into the copper sky, the sunset’s bronze and coral light spilled into the spaces of their breathless laughter, setting alight a glow in their cheeks and smiles. As Chenle looked over to see how delicately the setting sun held all of Y/N’s features, carved them out with such grace, he just couldn’t take his eyes away. “We’ll have the whole night to ourselves for me to work on my already flawless humour.”

All good things come to an end, though, and so did this moment between them when Chenle’s breath was cut short by a rough, bitter snicker from behind them. They both turned around to see Jeno, arms folded over his sweat-laden baseball uniform. Behind him in the distance was a line of his team members, run ragged by the red sands of the diamonds, stains of their hard work caught in their hair down to the auburn scars on their baseball cleats. The team was filing back into the gym and into the changerooms, the mark of the end of their practice.

“I think the only thing ‘funny’ is how you just don’t let up, Y/N.” Jeno titled his head, his teeth already bared in a sneer that seized the sunlight and twisted it. He settled his eyes on Y/N, the weight of his glare already making Y/N waver. But Y/N wasn’t going anywhere, he tightened his fists up in the pockets of his sweatshirt and stood as resolute as he could, trying not to mind the cracks in his confidence he could already feel forming as Jeno’s voice dug in deeper. “I guess you’ll cling to anyone who’ll entertain your bullshit.”

Chenle groaned and shook off Jeno’s gesture with a dismissive eye roll. “Fuck off Jeno, this isn’t necessary.”

“No, I think it is.” Jeno returned Chenle’s contempt, arching his eyebrow and shifting back and forth on his cleats, as if this conversation was nothing but a waste of time for him.

“It’s not, actually.” Y/N stepped closer to Jeno, unwinding his tightened knuckles to fold his arms in front of his chest. His voice was louder now, rougher around its edges, serrated and sharp in a way that both Jeno and Chenle never thought it could become. Even after the altercation in the classroom that still left ashes on Jeno’s skin from the way Y/N’s voice and words clung to him, it wasn’t like this - severe and still growing, the blooming of some monstrous, withered rose. “And maybe you should take your own advice and stop being so desperate.”

“Excuse me?” Jeno matched Y/N’s steps, brushing off how Chenle stepped up to him too, and just focused on finding something to say. He didn’t know why he was here, if he was being honest; his need to reclaim the pride Y/N tore apart in that classroom? Maybe, and Jeno still tried to make sense of it. But he didn’t, he couldn’t, even as he was standing here. That lack of an answer, the senselessness in all of it as he looked into Y/N’s eyes and began to find nothing, it made him even angrier.

He needed something, anything to hurt Y/N. He found himself scrambling, and he knew that Y/N recognized that.

“In case you forgot, I’m not the one who’s still waiting for the best friend I never had.”

“Jeno-” Without skipping a beat in the breeze’s silence, Chenle strode up into Jeno’s face, his face contorted in anger. He took as much pleasure as he could in the way it made Jeno freeze for a slight second. But before he could continue with his arm out and in front of Y/N to protect him from something that could have only twisted the blade in all the scars he knew Y/N was still healing from, Y/N cut him off, pushing past Chenle’s attempt to protect him.

“So, is there a point to this? Or did you just go out of your way to be an asshole, like always?” Y/N’s voice was so subtle, yet so meticulously ravenous, as it tore through the air. It was as if Jeno was speaking.

But Jeno wasn’t speaking, he just stood there with his mouth hung slightly open; and before he could even catch himself out of his stumble of shock, Y/N started once more, stepping closer, giving Jeno no chance to breathe.

“My life isn’t your business.”

“It became my business-”

“When YOU wanted it to!” Y/N’s voice rose, tearing at the seams of the sunset coloured sky, and Chenle flinched as he looked over to see Y/N’s face, a snarl shattering the light of his smiles that rested there just moments ago. There was something that was rising in Y/N, and Chenle didn’t like it. As much as he knew Y/N needed this, as much as he felt like this was something that was worth doing with how long Jeno’s been tormenting him, Chenle hated seeing it.

Y/N’s grimace, the roughness in his voice, the darkness in his eyes as they stared Jeno down, Chenle’s seen all of it before in mirror’s he’s threatened to shatter, he’s felt it in his own balled up fists and the heat that rose in his throat and scorched it. It was like Chenle felt the pain before the others did, the people he wanted to hurt.

Y/N didn’t stop. He jabbed a finger into Jeno’s chest, fearless in the face of Jeno’s furious eyes. “What’s your problem with me, Jeno!? I literally haven’t done anything to you and all you’ve done since I moved here is make my life absolute hell!”

“Well-”

“I don’t give a shit how insecure you are, or what unresolved psychological conflicts you have going on in that non-existent brain of yours. But I’m done being your emotional punching bag and I’m done letting you hurt me!” There was no bumbling supply teacher to put space between them, and Chenle tugging on Y/N’s sleeve could only do so much before he was finally a hair’s breadth from Jeno’s face. Every livid shimmer in Y/N’s eyes matched Jeno’s, and with them, he watched as his words, lit ablaze and enraged, burned into Jeno and all the places that Jeno always tried to never go.

Y/N could feel his chest tightening, a sob threatening to weave between his breath, but he swallowed it. Jeno tried to step up and match him, but he was still held speechless in the grip of Y/N’s words, all his awe and rage failing to sink in fast enough to say anything back.

“I-”

“I’M NOT DONE!” With Y/N’s voice ravaging through the air, anger boiling over, he shoved Jeno back as hard as he could, sending him stumbling to the ground, leaving them all, including Y/N, in a state of shock that rendered them all breathless. Y/N didn’t stop, though, in fact, he was far from done. Chenle surged up to hold Y/N back by his arms, try and calm him down by easing his hands around Y/N’s tightened fists, but before he could realize, Y/N pushed past him and swiped Chenle’s water bottle, its cap already flicked off and sent off into the field. They all knew exactly what Y/N was going to do.

“Y/N, please…” Chenle heard himelf practically whine. He felt powerless even as he was holding Y/N in place.

In that moment, in that field surrounded by the untameable fires of Y/N’s anger and the scattered ashes of what was left of Jeno’s ego, that’s when everything clicked in all the wrong places. Seeing Y/N like this, all Chenle could think about was how it reminded him too much of who he used to be at a time already fallen from the grace of all the lavish praise and claims to friendship and the golds and silvers of promises and success. When he’d lash out at all his fake friends when he found them out too late and cursed everyone including himself, a tangle of cries and fights in the parking lot that never lasted long enough to start; that’s what he was, that was the impression he made in skies he thought were never meant to fit him.

Chenle knew that this wasn’t how Y/N wanted to be, how he wanted to feel or what he wanted to say. The anger between all of them was almost palpable, stung to the touch, but Chenle’s felt it before. The last thing he wanted was for Y/N to feel that same merciless burn in his chest, but here he was, spitting up flames.

It was so hard for Y/N to shove aside Chenle’s pleas to step back. Deep breaths were too hard to take now, and as Y/N said: he wasn’t done.

“I told you to leave me the fuck alone, and obviously you don’t seem to get a fucking hint!”

The way Y/N’s voice warped and rippled across the sky caught the attention of one of Jeno’s teammates, one who lingered at the end of the light just a little bit longer as he saw Jeno split off from them by the door. But he finally gave in to his urges to look over to where Jeno was, his figure and two others cast in shadow as they burned themselves into the treeline and copper sky, someone being suddenly pushed down as something that vaguely resembled Y/N’s voice stretched over a rough, unrecognizable cry.

All of his thoughts and one-sided conversations about Y/N that would always slip out from under him whenever it got too quiet, Jisung felt them seep into his bones, an instinct taking him over. He needed to protect Y/N, something was wrong, and if Jeno had anything to do with how Y/N’s voice twisted up in the sunlight, then something was going to go wrong very fast. He ran over to where the blurs in the distance were, but as he got closer, he was too late in recognizing who needed protecting.

It wasn’t Y/N.

Regardless, Jisung found himself automatically bringing his hands to Y/N’s shoulders, his touch gentle yet desperate on him.

“Y/N! Are you okay-”

“Don’t touch me!” Y/N’s voice was hoarse and merciless and forced Jisung off of him. Only then did Jisung finally turn around, blind to his urges to keep Y/N out of harm, to see Jeno on the ground, utterly speechless, eyes weight down by the way Y/N tore into him with his words. Y/N couldn’t care about Jisung, he didn’t want to. All he cared about was Jeno, giving him what he thought Jeno deserved - his grip on Chenle’s opened water bottle tightening, nearly shattering its plastic pieces in his grip.

Chenle’s tugs and pulls and whimpers of protest were all in vain, Y/N still pulled himself closer to Jeno.

“It’s finally time for me to teach you a lesson for once.”

Y/N, with a jerk of his shoulder, poured all the water over Jeno’s head, soaking every inch of his head and shoulders. The moments in between Jeno’s sputters as he staggered backward from where he was on the ground were just silence. Silence of pure shock, the sky waiting with its breath peeled from the horizon.

Only when Jeno did nothing but stay on the ground, dripping wet, Chenle’s water running down his face like tears, his uniform’s top sticking to his skin, his hair pressed to his head and dangling limply over the withered fires in his eyes. That’s when Y/N finally realized what he did.

Y/N dropped Chenle’s water bottle and finally gave in to Chenle’s pulls backward. He stumbled into Chenle’s arms as they held him not in restraint, but some form of comfort that the sheer force of regret that left Y/N near breathless couldn’t let him feel. All the fire Y/N felt boiling over in his throat dissipated in an instant. All the light in Y/N’s eyes stifled and words tried to bubble up, but nothing came out, a tangle’s-worth of a stutter lodged in his throat, choking him.

“I…” Y/N scrambled for something as Jeno stayed on the ground for what felt like painfully long.

Jeno was still dealing with the shock that ran through him, ruthless and bitter and cold, the breeze shattering on his shoulders, his breath in shudders.

“I’m sorry- I… I don’t know what-”

“Shut up.” Jeno cut Y/N off, leaving yet another dreadful fissure of silence to rip the ground up beneath them. He pulled at his soaking wet collar before standing up, his voice was hoarse, breathless, all his words half-composed as if he was still grappling with the reality of the situation itself. Jeno couldn’t find anything else to say, he couldn’t find the space in his heart - hollowed out by the flames of his anger, surprise and the slightest spark of fear and sadness - to find anything else to feel.

And maybe that was for the best.

“Just… Shut up…”

Jeno’s voice was swept up by the wind as it trickled in between him and Y/N and Chenle and Jisung who just watched him stand. With one last look into Y/N’s fearful eyes, he just turned around and walked away, his sunlit figure - dripping wet and dejected, anything that made him ‘Jeno’ laid out crumbling behind him and the dragging of his steps - disappearing into the distance and behind the gym’s door.

A stifling type of quiet consumed the remaining three who stood above the remains of Y/N’s cries and Jeno’s speechless shock and where all of Chenle’s pleas for Y/N to hold himself back fell in a heap at their feet. Their air around them felt so delicate, as if they tore through the sky as if it were skin, the sunlight bleeding and losing its colour - nobody wanted to stride through the silence. Y/N was trembling in Chenle’s arms, Chenle was doing his best to comfort Y/N despite still processing what just happened, his eyes on Jeno, and Jisung had his eyes on Y/N and all the dissipated anger and fear and sadness and confusion that was in his eyes.

“Are you okay…?” Jisung finally said, his voice cautious and hesitant, then dying down as he saw Y/N flinch at the sound of his voice - one he probably hasn’t heard up close in the year and a half Y/N spent trying to think nothing of all the days together that used to mean so much. It took Y/N a while to feel Jisung’s words settle in, even with the faint hints of feeling that sparked at his fingertips as Chenle was still holding his hand.

Jisung fidgeted in the painful silence he sort of knew he deserved to hear, and looked up to meet not Y/N’s eyes, but Chenle’s as their stares met over Y/N’s shoulders. Chenle’s gaze took on this knowing, unkindly shine as he looked over Jisung and all the regret he could practically feel running through Jisung’s body. He had no sympathy, though, for how Jisung was holding his breath and the suffocating silence, waiting restlessly for Y/N to answer him.

Chenle’s been through the exact same thing, giving everything to someone, only for them to pay it back in silence and unread texts, and leaving them empty-handed with nothing left for themselves. Part of Chenle wanted Y/N not to answer at all; Jisung still hasn’t reached out, he hasn’t answered to Y/N’s sadness, someone who was supposed to be his best friend at one point. He knew, from how Jisung would sigh wistfully as he’d look anywhere but at the group during their lunch, that Jisung wanted to do something but he was scared, holding himself back in fear that it was too late.

But none of that mattered, Jisung’s meaningless intentions lost their gravity the moment he sought a place in Jeno’s entourage over what he candidly shared as a place at the side of ‘the best person he’s ever known’.

The moment Chenle’s eyes ignited into a glare and made Jisung flinch and shift around even more, Y/N finally spoke up.

“I’d give you an answer, but I don’t know if you’d care what it was.” Y/N looked into Jisung’s eyes and knew that Jisung already knew the answer to that. The last year and a half was more than enough of one to begin with.

“Y/N-”

“Not right now…” Y/N immediately batted away Jisung’s attempt to say something, tensing up as Jisung tried to shuffle closer and lay a hand on his shoulder. As Jisung stepped back, sadness rich and dark in his eyes, Y/N felt something tangle in his throat, it laced his voice with something that made it barely audible - a bitter mixture of guilt and regret and anger and agony, something that hurt too much to bite back the longer he looked into Jisung’s eyes. The longer he stared, the more lights in Jisung’s eyes he could see stayed the exact same - it pained Y/N to see that Jisung still managed to remind him of all the things they went through. He couldn’t scrub those memories away now, they stained him like the misgivings of a bad conscience.

Jisung left him with the scattered pieces of all the words they’ve said to each other in the violet hush of the night, all the mornings wrapped around each other on Y/N’s roof, overlooking the first bloom of colour in the sky. Now Y/N’s had to deal with the cuts he’s borne with trying to pick those pieces back up.

“But Y/N…” Jisung stopped while he was ahead. He had no reason, at least no reason that could explain all of his silence. And all of that, the emptiness in his rationale, is what made the pain in his chest burn even more as he looked at Y/N.

“I just need my space.”

And with that, Y/N turned around, Chenle following suit. All Jisung could do was watch as they turned their backs on him and made their way to the basketball courts, only slivers of the setting sun squeezing in between spaces in the house’s silhouettes. Everything Jisung wanted to say taunted him under the darkening sky, his thoughts seeming to echo in the breeze and drown themselves out in the grass beneath his feet. When Y/N and Chenle turned the corner of the school, that was when he never felt more alone.

He finally felt what Y/N did, emptiness and desperation and longing clawed mercilessly at him. He made Y/N feel these things, he forced him to deal with holes in his stories, and tears in his memories. He was too late to mend them and stitch them back together.

Now, here he is, looking over Y/N’s scars, knowing that he turned his back on the best thing he had ever known.

“Hey… Y/N…?” Chenle strode through the silence that the darkening sky and the slightest peek of ivory moonlight beyond the horizon built between them. They were at the basketball courts now, sitting on one of the cement benches bolted to the ground on the court’s edge. The moonlight, as it trickled in from the blacks and violets that began to bleed into the sky, spilled over the concrete, the worn yellow paint that marked halfway lines and boundaries that were more of a suggestion than something anybody who lingered to play on the courts actually followed.

Chenle and Y/N were seated beside each other, overlooking the court and the dandelions that bloomed in the cracks of the pavement and toward the rusted cage of half-deflated basketballs. It seemed as if they were still struggling to process what happened between Y/N and Chenle and Jeno and Jisung, tension that was pulled taut between them now torn, and only sadness was left to take over where all of Y/N’s cries out into the air could still be seen at a distance.

“I don’t know if I liked that side of you…” Despite what Chenle said, he couldn’t look Y/N in the eyes when he turned and followed Chenle’s shrivelled whimper of a voice. He took sudden interest in grinding his shoes against the worn butt of a cigarette, but the way it soundlessly crumpled under his heel brought him back to where Y/N was staring sadly, regretfully at him. Chenle didn’t know if he wanted to continue; the last thing he wanted to do was to make Y/N feel worse. He was supposed to be there to make Y/N feel better, to support him. However, he couldn’t help but think about how conflicted Y/N’s actions left him, and how it hurt so much more to see himself where Y/N stood. “I know you’ve been through so much with Jeno and Jisung-”

Chenle stopped himself as he watched Y/N practically curl in on himself, wedging his teeth into his lip and holding back the sob that would’ve rolled off his tongue like the tears that caressed his cheeks with a shimmer as they fell. Seeing them fall and not knowing if he should wipe them away, it broke Chenle’s heart to see.

“I- I’m sorry…”

“No… It’s okay. The shit I went through isn’t really an excuse.” Y/N shuffled closer to the warmth Chenle’s hesitant words seem to radiate and rested a hand on Chenle’s thigh - welcomed by Chenle’s hand smoothing over his own. There was this hope in Y/N that his touch, the withered sparks under his fingers that could still feel the water he poured over Jeno stain them like crystal clear blood, could somehow remedy what he did, what he said. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me…”

Even with all the anger Y/N held, all the resentment and fear that built up in him and burrowed under his surface with every time Jeno would pick him apart, Y/N never wanted it to boil over like this - for him to become a product of all the things that hurt him. It made him no better than those who caused him all that pain.

“It was only a matter of time, I know, they put you through hell.” Chenle focused on kneading circles into Y/N’s knuckles with his hands. “It was just kinda scary, that’s all. It’s like you became someone else.”

“I should’ve listened to you, I should’ve stopped.” Y/N tried to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, hide himself in the shame of his balled up firsts and all the marks he made in his palms whenever his nails would have dug into them, but he realized that Chenle was holding one of them. He watched as Chenle turned his hand over, tracing, delicately and cautiously, the indents Y/N left in his palms. Listening to the way Y/N’s voice twisted up in agony, stumbled over itself as Y/N tried to swallow it all behind quivering lips, Chenle felt this unbearable pain stir in his stomach and a heaviness in his throat. “I could’ve stood up for myself another way, I could’ve-”

“It’s okay, Y/N… It happened…” Meeting Y/N’s eyes, reluctantly following his tears and the drops of moonlight they carried, Chenle slid closer, holding Y/N’s hand firmly now in his own. He felt this bitterness swell up behind his words, a sob threatening to tangle up his breath, hold it captive. “Standing up for yourself doesn’t make you a terrible person, you know. I just… I was in that exact position, and I felt the things that you felt and the pain that you had to endure just saying all of those things… It was horrible seeing you go through that much pain too, that’s all…”

“I’m sorry…” Y/N said again into the night-stained air, and drew in a sharp breath that made his lungs burn with the night’s silence. All the guilt that wound up in his chest, though, began to unwind just a little as Y/N looked back at Chenle’s comforting smile - so warm and bright even after all that’s happened to him that could’ve diminished it. Arching an eyebrow with a small smile, Y/N rested back on his hands and looked over Chenle - the moonlight gracefully dancing on his skin, resting in ivory shimmers on his jacket.

Everything from their locker-room talk was coming back to him. How close they were, the hushed sincerity of their voices, how they seemed to connect so quickly it was as if they were always so unconsciously tethered to each other.

“You know a lot more about me than you let on, Chenle…”

Chenle met Y/N’s smile with the brightening of his own, letting out a breathy chuckle as if an agonized whimper wasn’t just stuck between his teeth. “Well, I have to be observant so I don’t place my trust in the wrong people. I can’t worry about fake smiles and broken promises if I steer clear of them…” Heaving out a sigh, Chenle felt his voice begin to crumble once more, feeling a sour, eerie laugh as he opened his hand to Y/N’s feeling their fingers weave together. “The lengths I go to in order to not get hurt, and it still happens.”

Looking back on all those plastic smiles, weightless words, vapid screams of praise and worthless promises that never lasted more than a day before fleeing for the sunset; Chenle wondered how he was able to take it all, how naive he could’ve been to just wait for all of it to come around, expecting the best of them. To the crowds in hallways and clusters of self-proclaimed friends on the bleachers at his games, he was nothing but a symbol of status and affiliation, someone who was an idea, a concept rather than a person.

“And it sucks…” Chenle could feel the tears begin to trip and trickle over his lashes, carving rivers into his cheeks, lingering by his chin before dropping onto Y/N’s hand as it held his. He scrambled to wipe them away as they trembled on Y/N’s skin, but with one, soft yet firm squeeze from Y/N to Chenle’s fingers, he stopped, gathering his breath. Y/N was here, and he wasn’t leaving him, not like everyone else. “It fucking sucks that you know exactly what that feels like… I just stood there and watched all these things happen to you, I felt everything you did. And all I could do was help you with your books and make a stupid fucking Jane Austen joke…”

“Chenle…” Y/N shook his head and brought his hands up to Chenle’s shoulders. “Just because we’re going through the same shit or feeling the same things doesn’t mean you need to take that on some sort of responsibility… You don’t deserve that…”

“But I want to be here for you, just like you’re here for me.” Before Chenle attempted to hide his tear-stained face in his hands, he could see some sort of thought behind Y/N’s eyes. It wasn’t like the reflection and contemplation that shone behind them this whole time, it assumed this brighter shine, one Chenle thought seized to exist when Jeno initially ripped them away from what was supposed to be their breath of relief.

“Then that’s fine, but you don’t owe me anything for just being a friend.” Y/N brought his delicate touch down from Chenle’s shoulders and tipped his chin up to keep their stare bound in one another’s. Y/N felt this sting in his chest as he thought about how much Chenle has given, how much he’s thrown away and how little he’s received back. It might be late for Y/N to help heal wounds, they’ve already faded below Chenle’s surface, but at least he could draw hearts around where Chenle’s needed to stitch them back up all by himself. They could be each other’s gravity, finally help each other stand upright in a world that’s knocked them down and left them confused and disoriented and heartbroken.

Y/N did his best to shake off all the weight of their sadness - he can’t let their guilt and regret eat away at them for as long as it already has these painful last couple years. This feeling, the one that stands hopelessly on the intersection between dreadful realization and immeasurable pain, they’ve grown too accustomed to weaving it in their sunlight in attempts to just deal with it. They can’t let anything stand between them and the sky anymore, what the sky used to mean - what used to mean didn’t matter; what ‘used to’ can’t be what they continue to become anymore.

A look of awe broke through Chenle’s heavy frown as he began to see the beginning of a smirk bloom on his lips. He followed Y/N’s coy gesture to the cracked concrete, and flinched at the way Y/N seemed to leap off the bench with this air of jovial glee. It was such a departure from how they both knew they were feeling, but Chenle felt himself leaving the heaviness in his heart behind as well.

“But what you do owe me is the one-on-one you promised.” Y/N said, and smiled when Chenle’s mouth hung agape. “Unless you’re afraid that I’ll completely destroy you.”

“You…? One-on-one me…?” Chenle stood in awe of Y/N’s assured tone and cocky smile and the way he pranced over to the rusted cage of basketballs and sifted through them to find one that was slightly more above-average than the others. Even as he came back, fumbling with it as he dribbled, he carried with him that made Chenle hesitate on his words with a giggle. “Are you sure about that?”

“I don’t believe I stuttered, Zhong Chenle, now let’s get this over with so we can have more time to salvage your ego.” There was a sweetness at the end of Y/N’s words as he shuffled up to Chenle - an open-mouthed smirk still lingering with his genuine surprise - and cocked his head, twisting the blade of his sarcasm into where a faint flush crept up on Chenle’s neck. “C’mon, number five, let’s go.” Y/N lifted his eyebrow, a fake sneer on his lips, and with it, Chenle’s smile only grew wider, brighter.

Chenle craned his neck to crack it, a breath trickling from his tensed jaw and crooked smile as he shrugged off his jacket, and in one, frustratingly smooth movement, he wrapped it around Y/N’s shoulders and pulled him in closer. The way the cocky glint in Y/N’s challenging smile instantly faded away, settled beneath the night and just left his widened eyes and eager grin, it made Chenle want to bring him closer, make the space between them that much more negligible for the moonlight to fit in between them. Chenle’s voice was low and quiet, and he raised a hand to run it through Y/N’s hair with a teasing smile. “You have no idea what you’re getting into, do you…?”

“No, sir, I do not.” Y/N bounced on his heels to adjust the jacket Chenle slung over his shoulders, shoving his arms through its sleeves and already flaunting it as if it were his. He was too focused on dribbling the ball and not looking stupid in his fit of boldness to see how Chenle’s eyes lingered over him and how his jacket managed to fit Y/N so perfectly, drape down from his shoulders, catch the moonlight in the wear and shine of its leather. Y/N’s voice brought Chenle out of his trance, but only briefly, as when Y/N turned around with Chenle’s last name and jersey number on his back, Chenle found himself falling right back into it. “Now let’s get going so I can score a goal or whatever.”

“You mean a ‘basket’?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Y/N brushed off and shooed away Chenle’s laughter. “Get ready, ‘cause imma make the biggest play of your career-”

Y/N could barely get a feel of the basketball beginning to already deflate in his hands as Chenle surged up and stole the ball right out of his grip. He charged the net and flung his arms up, the ball carving an arc, settling in the sky only briefly as a dim, auburn moon, and sinking into the net. The ball fell right back into Chenle’s hands as he stood, proud and the perfect amount of conceited, under the net’s torn fringes - the ball seemed to be pulled into his effortless gravity, the same one that Y/N felt himself being drawn to as he made his way closer to take the ball back.

But Chenle wasn’t going to make it that easy.

“I’m still waiting for the play, Y/N.” Chenle kept the ball out of Y/N’s reach when he stretched himself out to reach it. And, almost comically, Chenle held Y/N at a distance with a hand to his chest, watching with glee as the most beautiful pout made its way onto Y/N’s face as he stopped his efforts and gave in to Chenle’s touch.

“Do I at least get an assist for that one?” Y/N cocked his head with an annoyed huff, smiling again when Chenle brought him closer and placed the basketball between their hands. Their hands overlapped briefly, Chenle’s touch settling in the grooves of Y/N’s knuckles as if they were always meant to fall into place. They kept each other there for what felt like a brief moment, enjoying the silence between them and how the sparks between their fingertips, running under Chenle’s hands as he slowly and tenderly traced over Y/N’s.

He let go for Y/N to take the ball, and as Y/N reluctantly drew his hands back but didn’t move back from him any farther in fear of losing this feeling that’s running between them, setting alight the sparks in their eyes and the brilliance in their sheepish smiles; they couldn’t help but feel the shadows of their touch dancing with them.

“Of course you do…”

No matter how little they got done, or their misshapen attempts at getting Y/N to actually play the game, they’ve already worn the night thin with their laughter, voices nearly crumbling beneath them, hanging off the tips of their tongues as moonlight settled on their backs. The indigo glare of the sky leaking into the air they breathed, silver starlight pouring from weathered seams on the horizon and pooling in the cracks of concrete that Y/N’s stumbled over - and Chenle’s caught him from; it was all just a backdrop. An elaborate set propped up around them to give colour and feeling to emotions they thought were too good to feel for this long.

Their chests burned with their laughter as they ended up playing with each other rather than against each other, tearing out rules and writing in new ones as they went to the point where Chenle didn’t even know if they were playing basketball anymore. Y/N still had Chenle’s jacket on, and Chenle was teaching him how to finally shoot the ball without needed to run out into the moon-stained fields in order to get it back - despite Chenle’s favourite feeling being when they left the field with an ivory shimmer caught on their skin whenever they would end up threatening and play-fighting with each other rather than getting the ball that sat nearly forgotten.

Chenle had his arms wrapped around Y/N as he guided his arms and the ball in his hands, and made sure to be extra patronizing just so he could see Y/N’s beautiful, moonlit pout.

“So, do you wanna try actually playing the game now?” Chenle patted Y/N’s sides before reaching out to catch the rebounding ball. He stepped back to toss it between his hands, and looked up with a grin as he saw Y/N’s face, twisted slightly in awe and mock offense of Chenle’s pestering. Y/N couldn’t stay annoyed at Chenle for long, though, with the way Chenle’s teasing smirk shone just right.

“Bitch-” Y/N pressed an accusatory finger toward Chenle, taking the ball from his hands before making his way out to the center of the court. He dribbled the ball cautiously, but still held with him this look of confidence and brashness that only made the laughter Chenle attempted to hold in wind up tighter in his chest. “Now that I know how to dribble the ball, you better fucking watch out.”

Without warning, Y/N charged up to the net to try and score, but Chenle instantly met him halfway with a smile, blocking his angles. When Y/N attempts to pivot away from Chenle’s reach, he stumbles over himself, and Chenle was too close to catch them and keep their balance. Y/N curled his arms around Chenle’s head to protect him as they fell, but they barely impact of his arms and Chenle’s back and hips and legs against the concrete as Y/N landed on top of him. They were too focused on how close they were to one another, the hair’s breadth of space that that kept their embarrassed smiles apart, Y/N’s hands on either side of Chenle, legs seizing his waist, the stillness of the moonlight as it seemed to gasp in its places above and between and around them.

That moment where they stayed frozen crumbled beneath them when Y/N flinched back, frightened at himself and helpless as a deep flush overtook the colour in his cheeks - tortuously bright and vibrant, sunset-stained roses showing Y/N’s embarrassment even through the lilacs of the night that bloomed around them. He finally unwound his arms from where they were wrapped protectively around Chenle’s head, and he finally leaned up enough to watch the grin that spread across Chenle’s lips. The way it shone so relentlessly, it only made Y/N want to bury his flushed, burning hot face in his hands.

“I guess I really did need to watch out, huh…?” Chenle stopped Y/N before he could do that, though, taking Y/N’s hands in his own, bringing them back down to the concrete, Y/N’s palms pushing up against his, the warmth that flourished between them faded away into the night-stained coolness of the concrete. He watched the glimmers of panic rise in Y/N’s eyes, one by one, and Chenle couldn’t help but drown in them with a snicker as Y/N did nothing to move himself away. They were just laying there on the jagged, scarred surface of the asphalt, the only thing between Y/N and a concussion being Chenle and his irritatingly bright smile and teasing gaze and sarcastic voice.

Y/N wedged his teeth into his lip before he could stammer out an apology, and Chenle just looked at him silently, a smirk on his face as he untied their hands and let them amble about in the still small space between them.

“Oh my God- Chenle, I’m so sorry! I- uhm… I don’t-”

Y/N’s panic was too much for Chenle to bear, he needed to find something, anything to filter it all out - the quivering in Y/N’s hands, the fading of his words. The way Y/N’s flush ignited under the starlight, though, it just brought Chenle closer and closer as if it had its own gravity. He couldn’t help but be pulled in the only direction he’d ever want to be - closer to Y/N.

“Hey!” Chenle reached out in an effort to bring an end to Y/N’s painfully incoherent murmuring, and held Y/N by his cheeks, bringing him closer, ever closer. “You can stop now, or I’ll give you something to be sorry about.” He didn’t realize what he said until the shock in Y/N’s eyes, the way his blush burned to Chenle’s touch in the most blissful way possible, gave way to bright, coy shimmers and a smirk that made Chenle pause and read the words he left hanging in the thinning air between them.

Y/N’s hands made their way up Chenle’s chest to his shoulders and settled in the curves of his neck, and everything hung still once more - the moonlight midway through its shine, indigo petals falling from the sky, twines of silver starlight tangling up between them; bringing them closer, closer and even closer.

“Alright, then make me.”

Everything around them turned to blurs and flashes as the shine on their smirks were caught between their teeth by the entwining of their lips. Chenle’s hands wound up in Y/N’s hair as he took the back of Y/N’s head and tugged at the collar of his jacket.

They were expecting it, they wanted it, but everything that followed happened so suddenly. The feeling of sparks dripping from the corners of their lips and down their chins faded and quickly as they noticed their burns. When they pulled back and looked silently at each other, though, everything came rushing back to them with this numbing sweetness and stifled their senses, tying their gazes together before pulling them in to dive into each other’s waters once more.

It was as if they couldn’t keep away, they were constantly swept over by the way they reduced moonlight to ashes and how they wore starlight thin and painted their jaws and necks and cheeks with it.

That flash of warmth between their lips - like the breaking of dawn, the brief shine pearls in the sunlit sky - felt and tasted of horizons they had yet to see. It burned, stung and scorched them as they bit it back when Y/N pulled back once more and held his breath over Chenle’s still parted lips. They could feel something bursting through their veins, running through them with the spark of golden sunlight, soaking his skin in what felt like an endless summer that ran beneath their surface, already carved their initials into June’s skies before they slipped out from under them, dying fields they’ll dance in the colours of the intoxicating flush running under Chenle’s touch as he held Y/N’s face in their beautiful silence, inches from his lips - breath still, mouths unmoving.

Y/N was the sweetness of the wildflowers that carried on the breezes Chenle would ride on his walks by the coastline, his eyes like starlit skies and crystal waters and the pearls of morning dew or that brief moment of silence between the changes in the horizon’s colour. He was everything that reminded him of how big the world was and how much he’d need to grow if he’d ever want to accomplish those far-fetched childhood dreams and finally conquer it.

Chenle couldn’t help but melt under the light of Y/N’s bright smile, feeling its radiance between his teeth when Y/N leaned in and pressed a brilliant, gentle kiss to his lips once more. If Y/N looked this beautiful when he was happy, then Chenle wanted to make him the happiest man all the time.

“I guess you did make me…” Y/N murmured into Chenle’s parted lips, nearly collapsing into the giggle that stained the corner of his mouth. When the numbness of his senses finally burned away with the feeling of Chenle’s hands kneading into the back of his neck, every sensation before the stars between their teeth aligned came flooding back in pools of the moonlight they left in shreds around them.

Y/N didn’t notice the roughness of the concrete beneath his knees, and Chenle couldn’t feel its jagged, marred surface prodding at his back until he shifted under the weight of Y/N’s hips on his - what left him blissfully numb for this long.

“Oh crap- we literally kissed on concrete… How romantic…”

“Nothing says ‘romance’ quite like pebbles down my shirt, and your hands up my shirt at the same time.” Chenle pinched at Y/N’s reddening cheeks before taking Y/N’s hands as he clambered off of Chenle’s waist. He uttered an animated groan as Y/N helped him up. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he could see the embarrassment on Y/N’s face and tried to comfort him. Maybe he could if he held Y/N’s face again and see what follows this time… “I could barely feel it anyways.”

“Still, I’m sorry-” Y/N was cut off as Chenle grabbed him by the collar of the jacket slung around his shoulders and pulled him close. Chenle smiled as Y/N held his breath, and took all the air they kept trapped under their tongues between their lips once more. “Maybe I should say sorry more often.” The sweetness of Y/N’s eager smile as he pulled back with it plastered on his face, it was almost too much for Chenle to bear.

“Maybe… But I want us to stop being sorry for shit. We spent too long feeling sorry for the things people did to us.” Chenle playfully jostled Y/N around by his grip on Y/N’s collar, but Y/N could see this seriousness behind Chenle’s eyes.

“You’re right.” Y/N said, looking down to where the tips of their shoes touched, Y/N’s tattered sneakers creasing the front of Chenle’s pristine Jordans.

He tried to think about the truth in Chenle’s words, but the moment he settled the weight of his thoughts onto them, Chenle nudged Y/N’s chin up again and fixed their stares together. Chenle couldn’t stand one more of Y/N’s downcast gazes.

“You know what?” Y/N raised his head, scrunching his nose at Chenle’s giggle as they took a moment to soak themselves in this feeling of weightlessness - one they’ve spent so long searching for, longing for. “Something I’m not sorry for is how good I look in your jacket.”

“I’m not sorry for how amazing you look, either…”

Chenle cupped Y/N’s face again, leaning in to tie their tongues together. His endless fall into the gravity of Y/N’s smile has only just begun, but he already knows that he’ll never want to escape the clutches of Y/N’s soft touch and loving eyes and bright laughter. It stained him with all the sunsets they’ve missed looking blindly for the ones taken away from them, standing here before Y/N - Y/N standing here with Chenle - it was a promise of something new; the golden slates of evening skies wiped clean of all the times they’ve tried to fold them over, rip and tear at them, erase them and leave nothing but midday coloured smudges on their consciences.

They were finally ready to take a leap, fall from grace together and find their own wherever they landed.

It was hard for Y/N to build his words up with the way his radiant grin stretched them out and wore them down - each and every one of their kisses left him more breathless than the last. “Let’s head to my place? It’s not far of a walk…”

Y/N didn’t even need an answer, as Chenle instantly turned around after fixing his jacket over Y/N’s shoulders, and followed in the moonlight’s footsteps - already letting them be led by nothing but blind faith and dimly lit intersections.

“That sounds great…” Chenle said before just crossing the threshold between the court and the sidewalk that wrapped around the school’s border; there was some unfinished business, and it involved finally watching that ball sink into the net one last time. A victory lap with Y/N there to cheer for him. “One last shot though!”

From now on, looking into the bleachers, wondering if he could find a single shine of legitimacy among those faceless colours in the audience, were nothing but a scattered, faded memory. Y/N was here now, he was going to be front and center at every single one, he’d look into the bleachers, find the brilliant shine of his smile - letterman jacket around his shoulders - and feel the world turn in his orbit. Everything would feel right for once, the pieces that would never fit together now falling into place like the way Y/N’s laughter fell on his ears, or the way he fell so deeply for all of the things he always wanted to know about Y/N.

“THIS ONE’S FOR YOU!” Chenle screamed into the night sky, tearing it in two as he dribbled the ball a couple times, felt its rough surface under his fingers. He thought about how he’d shout that every time he’d find himself at half-court, ready to beat that timer again and again, right to where Y/N would be sitting. Swinging himself back, Chenle leapt up and lobbed the ball into the air, it’s perfect arc stilling the world on its axis like it did in those split seconds Chenle felt were made for him.

They both watched, Y/N in slight amusement, and Chenle in complete and utter horror as the ball completely missed the net. It sailed into silence, and with a blunt, echoing bounce against the concrete that was almost too painful to pay attention to, the ball rolled off into a patch of grass to lay lifelessly. It practically deflated in its own disappointment, and it left Y/N and Chenle in this shattering silence that left the stars snickering between each other with its merciless glow against the emptiness of the net, the dull shine of the ball as it laid just out of the shadows and right for Chenle to keep staring at.

“Wow…” Chenle’s voice was wrung dry of its sound. It was swiftly overtaken by Y/N’s cackling; and Chenle wasn’t even mad at it, its melody was somewhat comforting. He didn’t need to share this embarrassment alone with only the moonlight to pay witness to it. The ways Chenle is probably going to be teased for this will be endless - he won’t hear the end of it until he does something else monumentally humiliating.

“For me…?” Y/N heaved out, his squeak-like laughter and wheezes at the way Chenle’s embarrassed pout seemed to deepen only leaving his words even thinner. He curled over, rested his hands on his knees and took a sharp, rough breath in. “You shouldn’t have!”

“I’m so embarrassed…”

“I’m embarrassed for you.” Y/N struggled to control his chuckles, even as Chenle jogged up and assumed his rightful place next to Y/N and continued their walk away from the court - now with more reason than ever; to escape this hell-hole of embarrassment that Chenle graciously blessed Y/N with. “Fuck, I should’ve recorded that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Chenle rolled his eyes and slipped his hand in the rear pocket of Y/N’s jeans. He hoped that he could get Y/N to stop laughing for even a moment as they made their way down the sidewalk and away from where that ball was - and will probably lay for whoever came to play in the morning to look at and probably double over in their own second hand embarrassment.

“I can see why you’re not on the baseball team…” Y/N’s words were left to hang in silence until he reached back and patted at Chenle’s hand, the one still wedged in Y/N’s back pocket. “You really like to skip those bases…”

Y/N snickered at the way Chenle shook his head in this mocking approval, only to tighten his grip on what he could hold from Y/N’s pocket. Chenle just pulled him closer, burying a kiss and a chuckle in Y/N’s hair.

They both looked up to the sky, and somehow, the pinpoints of ivory stars that looked as if they were weaving swathes of the night’s blue velvet together seemed to look so much brighter. They barely needed the streetlights to guide their way home, just the solace they could finally find in silence, a silence they’ve been trying to run away from. But they’ve spent so much time wasting away, wishing they had more to realize that they were just waiting for the right person to make the quiet feel like peace, and not like loneliness.

It’s been a while since Y/N could be lonely together with someone, since he could sign his name in the byline of his skies without flinching at the space that the horizon had left to fill. However, with Chenle’s hand in his, he’s finally sure that he could take his time in writing in the rest - there was a name next to his, now, that was never going to leave.

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

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do u write for ateez?

yes, indeed I do :)

I love them way too much for my own good

#ask #request #💛

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

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requests: closed!

thank you so much for all of your requests, suggestions, ideas, and support! I really appreciate it and even though I had these closed for a long time, I didn’t expect as many requests as I received.

But now that I have more requests than I know what to do with, I’m going to close them again and work on the requests that I have (based on my posting schedule, I have enough for the next three months).

Thank you once again for your requests, I’m really glad I opened them ♡

#request #requests closed #it was fun while it lasted

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

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Thank you for the Changbin ff! I loved it, so glad to have requested it. You’re doing a great job!

thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it ♡

#💛#ask

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

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roses among thorns; osaki shotaro, jung sungchan

(5,963 words) - large

summary ➣ A promise made between three lifelong best friends is broken as Y/N is held back from debuting with Shotaro and Sungchan as members of NCT 2020. However, Shotaro and Sungchan’s wishes to see Y/N again were answered as he returns to them, one way or another.

genre ➣ fluff (+ a little angst)

requested - 👍

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

The music immediately died down the moment Shotaro yanked the speaker’s cables from his phone, the hum of the stereo barely keeping itself afloat amongst the heavy breathing of the three young men circling restlessly in the room. They slipped on the ashes of their sleepless night with every other step, and they looked at each other with breathless mouths hung open, heavied shoulders, empty chests, and legs that would collapse under all of them if they managed to scrounge up any of the air around them that practically singed their trembling hands.

Y/N, Shotaro, and Sungchan, a rag-tag batch of trainees set to debut and join NCT’s roster in their upcoming group project, NCT 2020, were scrambling to remember the choreography for their upcoming evaluation. The day they’d finally be able to see more than the smudged mirrors ahead of them and the scars their sneakers left on this damned, laminate flooring - or when they’d be allowed to go out, they’d see nothing but the night sky and the faintly lights on the edges of the night markets Sungchan would always drag Y/N and Shotaro to. The three of them always dreamt of it and saw it as something to reach out to.

Now, though, the day they needed to perform in front of managers and administrators and vocal coaches and choreographers threatened to fall right into their hands. They didn’t quite know how to process all of it for a while, that what they dreamed of, the things they’d aspire to and talk about in long-winded monologues to the ceiling while laying on each other's chests, could actually be real.

But here they were, stuffing as many rounds of choreography they could into the hours they had left, scraping up any energy or desperation they could’ve left behind on the way to what they deemed as their ‘special’ practice room. The grains on this floor - that just looked like all the others - seemed to bring them luck. Whether it was Shotaro passing his first dancing evaluation, Sungchan with his rapping and song-writing classes, or Y/N, with all the things he needed to catch up on for being added to the group of trainees rather late.

“I literally don’t even know if we’re dancing well anymore.” Y/N sighed hoarsely, crouching down and watching his fingers fidget with each other with idle eyes. He watched Sungchan excuse himself from the room to fetch them a few water bottles they were too stupid to bring with them.

His downcast gaze didn’t let him notice Shotaro shuffling up to him, then diving into the space he saw between Y/N’s arms, knocking them over with a hug.

“At least we tried, that’s what counts,” Shotaro said with an optimistic tone that almost felt self-mocking. He let himself settle further up on Y/N’s chest, leaving them both sprawled out on the dirty practice room floor. “Because that’s what they’re totally looking for, that we tried.”

Y/N chuckled as they submerged themselves in Shotaro’s sarcasm, and snapped their heads over to Sungchan, who threw the door open with as many water bottles as he could find cradled in his arms. He cast them aside the moment he saw Y/N and Shotaro clung to each other in the middle of the room and ran up to slide next to them. Propping himself up on his arm with a stumble, Sungchan’s free hand fiddled with the drawstrings of Y/N’s hoodie; one that used to be his not too long ago.

“Guys…” Sungchan started, not continuing until he saw both Y/N and Shotaro’s heads roll toward him with their tired eyes. “We’re going to debut, all three of us, so let’s not get defeated, okay?”

Y/N smiled to himself, “don’t worry, Channie, we’re not defeated.” Y/N reached up to pinch at Sungchan’s cheeks, and Sungchan closed the distance with an eye roll. “It’s just that it’s six in the morning; we’ve been up for almost a day…”

“Well, yeah, that too…” Sungchan shrugged, sheepish under the weight of Shotaro’s withered laughter. Despite that, Sungchan’s eyes were still bright and earnest. There was something he still wanted to say, sparks he still wanted to brush off his shoulders to light up the others’ smiles a little bit. “But still, I promise that we’re all gonna debut. I promise.” Sungchan stuck his pinky finger out towards the other two, watching with a determined smile as Y/N and Shotaro fumbled to tie all of their pinkies together.

“I promise too!” Shotaro said, enlivened.

Sungchan and Shotaro both looked over to Y/N, who was busy trying to find a way to tie his fingers up in the knot Shotaro and Sungchan made between their fingers.

“I’ll promise as soon as I can find a way to-”

At the same time, Shotaro and Sungchan opened their hands around Y/N’s and clasped them in the middle, tangling their fingers up in Y/N’s with no room to spare for the pale, lifeless lights that hung over them. It was a knot of warmth, comfort, and soft smiles, with Shotaro burying himself into Y/N’s side, and Sungchan taking up the other, bringing Y/N’s head under his chin.

“Okay,” Y/N chuckled as he felt both of them cuddle closer to him. “Now I promise…”

Shotaro and Sungchan and lingering on the fringes on the set of NCT’s photoshoot for their first-ever project as idols, NCT 2020: Resonance. This was their first time meeting every single member of NCT, not just greetings awkwardly exchanged in tight hallways, or conversations stretched out in empty practice rooms. They were standing side-by-side with people they trained beside and looked up to.

However, the most important one - Y/N - the piece that always found Sungchan and Shotaro when they felt missing, wasn't here yet. If he was, they knew for a fact that they would be the first place he would go. But there were no hugs from behind releasing a squeak from Shotaro’s pressed lips, no fingers sneaking their way into the spaces between Sungchan’s. Even the way the air felt, this hint of sweetness practically plucked out of it with the hours they’ve spent without Y/N by their sides, they knew he wasn’t here. The three of them were together so often, that the gold Y/N laced into every stream of light they walked through was their new normal.

The absence of all that for such a long time - this was the longest they’ve been apart for weeks - it made them feel so uncomfortable. The shapes they fit into in NCT just didn’t feel right without Y/N there with his outline right next to theirs.

Out of the corner of their eyes, they caught a blur of Taeyong’s figure, clad in the light blues of his blazer. A silent message passed between them as they exchanged glances and nods. If they didn’t know the answers, then maybe Taeyong did. Sungchan immediately made his way to Taeyong, meeting him halfway, as Taeyong was already walking up to where Sungchan and Shotaro stood - he wanted to check up on how NCT’s new members were feeling.

Shotaro shuffled up and kept himself close to Sungchan, behind his shoulders the whole time.

“Hey, you guys! How’re you feeling?” Taeyong asked with a welcoming smile. Shotaro and Sungchan seemed to relax almost instantly as Taeyong’s voice wrapped them up in what felt like an embrace.

“We’re feeling okay…” Sungchan trailed off. No amount of comfort could bring Shotaro or Sungchan out of their thoughts, and no amount of friendly smiles could distract them from what’s missing. The weight at Shotaro’s side as they’d always find ways to lean into each other, the teasing shoves to Sungchan’s chest that would get them play-fighting on car rides to their vocal training. They knew Y/N had a thing for being late, but not for a day like this… “But we were just wondering where Y/N is…? He hasn’t shown up yet and we don’t know anything, so we thought you would…?”

Shotaro could already see something waver in Taeyong’s eyes as he hesitated, and it tangled his breath up in his throat. Even with the way Taeyong drew his breath in, sharp and sudden as if he was bracing for the words he had to say. It made this weight drop in their stomachs, they felt the tiles and folds of the green screen under their shoes threaten to swallow them up.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong’s voice was borderline mournful, his eyes sad, apologetic. He, too, was so excited to see Y/N debut, someone who’s been training alongside him for as long as he could remember, but now Taeyong had nothing of Y/N to remember but the thought of leaving Y/N behind, leaving him to wait with his ambition in his hands, only to see his debut slip past him. He’s seen Y/N grow so much, but only in flashes and brief conversations through practice room door frames as he’d catch Y/N trying to iron out the edges of choreography until early in the morning. “But- uh… He’s not doing the shooting. I thought you guys would know…”

Shotaro and Sungchan could respond with nothing but mouths torn wide open.

They made a promise…

“They held him back, I was only there for the first and last conversations, but they didn’t tell me anything that happened in between. Our Y/N is amazing, though, I know he’ll be here with us in no time.” Taeyong paused with a nod, a sliver of optimism reignited in his eyes. He hoped to give some to the two men in front of him, standing there with fidgeting fingers and lost words. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“Okay…” Was all Sungchan could find in himself to muster with his strained smile and slight nods. Taeyong turned around with parting pats on their shoulders before heading off to another group of his members. Sungchan turned around to meet Shotaro’s wary gaze, but Shotaro’s eyes were trained to the notches in the tiles. “He’ll be here soon,” Sungchan murmured, parroting Taeyong to Shotaro, but with the way his words trembled, it seemed as if he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

“He better be…”

Their suspicions caught onto them when Y/N never showed up; bit into them mercilessly, relentlessly as they could feel the emptiness at their sides. It felt like forever before they even heard a brief mention of Y/N’s name from staff in idling conversation. As if they never laughed at his jokes at the end of their schedules or were on the receiving end of all his kindness that left a Y/N-shaped imprint on all the people who were blessed enough to walk in the range of his brilliant eyes.

It’s been a year since that day, since their promise was broken, and Shotaro, Sungchan, and the rest of NCT were being ushered into a large room lined with vanities, makeup artists standing at the ready to get them onto the stage as quickly as possible. This was a night that Shotaro and Sungchan had never dreamed of reaching, at least without Y/N as the missing piece that always fit so perfectly between them; their first win as members of NCT.

If Shotaro or Sungchan even got the opportunity to run their hand over the trophy’s silver finishing, they knew it wouldn’t feel the same, look the same as the times they haughtily practiced their acceptance and ‘thanks’ speeches with crushed water bottles in the trophy’s place. Y/N was always their MC, droning on about how talented and beautiful they all were until Sungchan would need to tackle him down to the floor out of embarrassment to shut him up; Sungchan would always smile fondly at how that would never be enough, Y/N would keep singing their praises until his breath grew rough.

“I feel like we should be more excited than we are, this is our first win.” Sungchan scratched at his neck, thinking about how his heart didn’t skip as many beats on their way to MusicCore, or how he didn’t feel his nerves fraying at the ends of his fingertips as he and Shotaro fiddled with each other’s hands in a nervous wreck at the back of the car. The fires under their hands just didn’t light the same without them pulling Y/N in to tie their fingers together. “Now I’m just thinking about how Y/N should be here; it makes me sad…”

“Y/N wouldn’t want us to be sad…” Shotaro said, eyes struggling to light an optimistic spark.

“Right…”

Without Y/N’s warmth, the metal would feel cold in such an unforgiving way, not in a way that was expecting Y/N’s hands on theirs, clutching at their waists and fingers in anticipation and celebration. Shotaro didn’t have someone to cling to in the front row now. Y/N’s fingers wouldn’t anxiously slip into the space of his belt loops or fiddle with the zippers on his jacket.

They missed him. They missed him so much…

Shotaro and Sungchan were separated by their staff at the doorway, split off into different chairs with different makeup artists. They were still close enough to share reassuring glances and smiles at each other until their makeup artists, wrapped up in all-black uniforms, stepped up to them.

However, as Sungchan’s makeup artist stepped up to the counter, back turned, there was this unmistakable quality about the way their shoulders seemed to carry the pale lights of the vanity mirror, the way the brief flicker in their eyes that Sungchan caught whenever their tilted head left their gaze exposed under their black baseball cap.

Then, all of the sudden, this fragrance bloomed as the makeup artist made their way closer; the gentle sweetness of lavender poured over long nights sprawled out on waxed, practice room floors. Sungchan remembered how the smell always dripped from Y/N’s neck whenever Sungchan would pull him into the tightest hugs he could muster at the night’s end - no matter how hard Sungchan squeezed and pulled at Y/N’s waist, there was always a faint glow of moonlight left in Y/N’s beautiful, tired eyes.

Sungchan recognized more and more things, how the makeup artist seemed to levitate, almost glide along the carpeted floors as they shuffled along the makeup counter to organize their things wordlessly - they still had yet to catch Sungchan’s face, contorted with curiosity. As the makeup artist finally turned around to meet Sungchan’s eyes, everything froze. The frayed edges of their hoodie’s drawstrings looked so familiar, the delicateness in which they instantly reached out to hold Sungchan’s face in such an uncanny way that Sungchan’s thoughts made his head spin. The artist flinched back; something didn’t seem right…

Or maybe, it seemed too right to be real.

“Y/N…?”

Sungchan didn’t need an answer, only the joyous gleam of the eyes he could barely see. He leaped from his seat and wrapped Y/N up in his arms, with Y/N burying a relieved sigh into Sungchan’s shoulder before struggling to hug back with his brushes still in his hands. He held on as tight as he could regardless, as there was a point in his life where he possibly could’ve never had this again; Sungchan’s arms around his waist, hands stroking his back, smile in his neck, and the warmth it brought to his chest.

“Oh my God… Y/N…” Sungchan shuddered and held Y/N’s face, his smile only growing even brighter as Y/N’s hands rose up to wrap around his. “I- I missed you! What happened? Why’re you here? Why didn’t you tell me- us…? Anyone?”

“I-” Y/N found himself stumbling in their rejoice, the clatter of his brushes against the counter gaining less attention than he thought.

All of Sungchan’s questions settled on Y/N’s skin too quickly for him to answer; even when he dragged that pen across the contract shoved in front of him for the conversations Taeyong wasn’t present for, and then remembered the hug farewell they shared on the final conversation Taeyong was present for, he didn’t know. He knew Sungchan would be asking these questions, and Shotaro too if he wasn’t seated across the room, catching his and Sungchan’s reflection in the mirror with a raised eyebrow; however, he just couldn’t find answers.

“I just…”

“Y/N… “ Sungchan saw how Y/N struggled to bring his words up and relented his onslaught of questions, no matter how desperate he was for answers.

“I don’t know…” Y/N finally answered, then led his gaze to the ground with a shameful, vivid flush that spilled over the mask he was wearing. “I just didn’t want anyone to see me like this…” ‘How the mighty have fallen’, Y/N wanted to bitterly think as he fiddled with the hairs of a makeup brush he had balanced between his fingers. However, he thought about how mighty he really could’ve been if he couldn’t even hold their promise together - keep himself afloat with them.

Sungchan hated seeing Y/N like this, downcast, the stars in his eyes clouded over with a sadness that made Shotaro and Sungchan’s hearts ache every time it made Y/N’s voice crumble. He needed to find a way to take it away, to clear Y/N’s skies.

“Like what? I literally can’t see you.” Sungchan tried to lighten the air stirring around them, tugging at the side of Y/N’s mask. His chuckle fell flat, though, as Y/N didn’t give the response he always did - a bright giggle that would always meet Sungchan’s jokes halfway, no matter how shitty they were. Their eyes just met in a quiet that rolled in with this hesitance, as if it knew it wasn’t supposed to be there. Y/N’s gaze was dejected, worn, defeated.

“That’s the point…” Y/N reluctantly fixed the side of his mask that Sungchan teasingly plucked off. Whenever Shotaro or Sungchan would ruffle his hair or mess up his clothes, he would always keep it that way for as long as he could until he was chastised by someone for it.

Readjusting his mask felt like an insult to all the times Shotaro would bring Y/N into his lap and untangle the moonlight from his hair as he’d stroke it back until Y/N fell asleep in his arms. And it was like he was mocking the early mornings where Sungchan would always step up to Y/N and undo his rolled sleeves or take out the sweatbands Y/N used to push back his hair, only to draw Y/N in by his hands and push up his sleeves and pin his hair back the ‘proper’ way.

“I feel like… Disgraced…? I love makeup, I really love doing makeup.” Y/N tried to make sense of his thoughts and feelings, and Sungchan nodding along slowly only made the sigh that slithered off his tongue that much thicker.

Y/N fondly recalled stealing a small palette from the bin of stage makeup that went unclaimed, just to practice colour combinations on Shotaro, Sungchan, and anyone who dared to enter the room and happen upon the abstract, borderline-cubist ‘masterpieces’ Y/N left on their faces. Since then, Shotaro and Sungchan would always link their arms with Y/N’s and bring him to the nearest department store, spending hours combing through aisles of drugstore makeup just to pick out the things Y/N liked or wanted to put on their faces.

“But I never thought it would be for the company I signed with to be an idol… It’s kinda weird, and it feels so sad…” Y/N looked into Sungchan’s eyes and saw the thought behind them.

Sungchan tried to find light in the fact that it was still here, even if it was difficult with where the company put Y/N. Now, Y/N was thrust into a state of constant, vicarious living. He stood there to do his best to steady NCT’s liner and buff out their blush just to watch them walk out onto a stage he was once told he was born for. Sometimes, when Y/N’s nights alone grew cynical, he’d often think that this was a fate worse than just being cut off and let go. But then again, nothing was worse than losing Shotaro and Sungchan.

“Don’t be sad,” Sungchan winced, they both knew it was always easier said than done. “Now you get to hold my face and not get any jealous stares…” Sungchan shone a mischievous smirk, leaning into Y/N’s touch as Y/N pinched at the cheek he hasn’t lined concealer on yet. When everyone would find out about Y/N, sooner or later, Sungchan hoped that they could interact like they normally would, not bound by the fresh ink that dripped from Y/N’s contracts.

Y/N points discreetly past Sungchan’s shoulders, and Sungchan’s head turned, following Y/N’s hand.

“Nope, we’re still not safe from those.”

Where Y/N gestured to was a line of makeup artists looking longingly at how close Sungchan was to Y/N. They were keeping their distance from the members they were working on, laughing at the members’ jokes only when the managers weren’t down their necks. How Sungchan held Y/N eagerly by the hips as he sat back down in his chair and brought Y/N in to press his cheek up to his stomach; they couldn’t handle it.

The other makeup artists had to channel all the restraint they could to not let their admiration spill out. They had a line painted all around them that they couldn’t dare to cross. But here Sungchan was, scratching it out and pulling Y/N across its remains.

Y/N then pointed again with an awe-struck smile to a sulking Shotaro, who popped out from behind Sungchan’s shoulder. His head was initially turned from the other side of the room by Sungchan whining Y/N’s name breathlessly. Initially, he thought he was hearing things, and that all of his and Sungchan’s silent prayers to practice room ceilings and the empty spaces in their beds they would always let Y/N slip into were coming back to haunt them.

“Yeah, you’ll never be safe again…” Shotaro grumbled at Sungchan with a fake pout before rushing toward Y/N taking him in by handfuls of the hoodie that they’ve all shared. “Y/N… You’re here, you’re still here! We didn’t hear anything for ages, I was worried as hell!”

“We were worried as hell.”

“Yeah yeah…” Shotaro shooed Sungchan’s retort away with a teasing smile, flinching back when Sungchan nudged him in the side. He pulled Y/N in closer to wrap him up in an embrace, and the commotion they caused in the back corner they were nestled in brought a few more gazes their way. “Everyone was telling us you’d come to join us on stage, what happened…?”

Shotaro had so many questions, so many things to say, and stories to tell of the lifetimes it felt like he and Sungchan spent without Y/N by their side.

The fake promises, the optimistic voices of their leader and managers whenever they begged long enough for an answer; all of it left the two of them waiting around every corner and through every doorway that Y/N would usually slip through and announce his presence with the beautiful melody of his voice.

Y/N drew in a shaky breath, preparing himself to answer all the questions they’ve probably had brewing in their heads forever now. He could feel Sungchan’s fingertips begin to lace with his, gently and tentatively, before he spoke. It made his words stumble out just a little bit easier.

“Well, they thought I wasn’t committed enough. I mistakenly voiced my aspirations to get a diploma, and with how exhausting my fine arts program was before I even debuted, they didn’t want to give me the time or opportunity to try and balance it and didn’t want me to implode on them in the long-term. They ‘wanted me to focus on my health and education’...” Y/N tried to spit out his mocking words spitefully, but they were more of a meek whimper that brought Shotaro to hold his other hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “It just feels like that whole week-long ordeal of conferences with Taeyong were just a formality. They basically already made their decision the first time; I was behind already in terms of my skills, apparently, and they just used me being in school as an excuse to hold me back.” Y/N’s voice was quiet now, and all he can recall is one of his managers candidly telling him that they didn’t want ‘collateral’ for the group. Whatever that meant...

“Y/N, don’t ever say that.” Shotaro’s voice was light but firm. It was always like this whenever he started one of his pep talks that wandered off deep into the night. “Their words don’t mean anything. You mean so much to us and your talents do too…”

Y/N let out something vaguely resembling a groan, but he buried his face in Sungchan’s hair before his rough sigh could reach air. “I wish you were there to testify before they made me sign the contract for this job…”

All Shotaro and Sungchan could think about was how they should’ve known, how they should've never let Y/N go in alone, and how they should’ve threatened that the company would’ve needed to drag Y/N from NCT’s roster from their pair of cold and dead hands.

“Since you’re not going to be ‘with’ us…” Sungchan felt something catch in his throat as he realized his words. He still couldn’t fathom the fact that all the restless nights and ceaseless days Y/N spent practicing for their debut were for naught. The cries of sheer exhaustion that Y/N let spill out of his mouth when he thought nobody was listening, were apparently worthless to the people who decided he ‘wasn’t good enough’ for NCT. “What’re you gonna do then…? Just our makeup and stuff?” He looked up at Y/N with shimmering, yet sad eyes, then held out his chin for Y/N to take between his fingers. Faint smiles emerged on all three of them when Y/N flicked blush across Sungchan’s cheek.

“I’m here to fill in the blanks, I guess.” Y/N shrugged, “since I can’t work with you, I guess I’m working for you…”

Those words, how bitterly Y/N said them as he looked down with the light of defeat shining so furiously in his eyes it made Shotaro and Sungchan angry. What they both would do to make it go away...

“NEVER!” Shotaro was the first to do soemthing, turning Y/N to him with a gentle nudge to his chin. ”You’re always gonna be one of us, that’s never gonna change.”

“Never…” Sungchan added with a soft smile. His eyes were hard and serious in an effort to make the sadness that stirred in Y/N’s chest flee in terror.

“Now move, Sungchan!” Shotaro unwound the weight and tension that their words carried with a squeak-like shriek as he shoved and nudged Sungchan, trying to push him off the chair so he could have his face in Y/N’s hands too. “I want Y/N to beat my face!”

“You better back up before I beat your face!” Sungchan threatened with a wide grin, only making it worse for himself as Shotaro’s pushing and prodding left him nearly hanging on the edge of the seat. Y/N just stared at his two favourite boys with an endeared smile, all the memories of their practice sessions in pale-lit rooms going up in sunset-coloured flames rushing back to him. As if it was just the night before when Sungchan tucked Y/N and Shotaro into a corner of the practice room, covering them with his jacket as they let the lilacs of the night sweep them away almost instantly. Sungchan was never too long after, curling around the both of them with his head on Y/N’s shoulder.

It wasn’t yesterday, it wasn’t even a few nights ago. It was many months of Y/N longing for nights like those again. Maybe, now that they’re within his reach again they could finally set up camp in as many practice rooms as they found themselves trapped in for the day. All three of them hunched over the ivory campfire of Shotaro’s phone screen, splitting up rations of Sungchan’s leftover fried chicken, and pitching tents made of gym bags and hoodies and jackets and tripods they scavenged from recording booths. Those nights tied up in each other’s arms were some of the only times when the looming expectations of their debuts faded from their minds.

“You snooze, you lose~” Sungchan stuck his tongue out, shoving back at Shotaro and clinging to Y/N for support, scoffing in mock offense when he received nothing but a condescending pat to the head.

“I DON’T SNOOZE OR LOSE! HOW DARE YOU-”

“Y/N…?”

They all snapped their heads over to where the breathless voice came from. It was Jisung, standing awkwardly behind them, mouth agape, eyes wide with glimmers of relief dancing wildly in them. After Jisung’s makeup artist finished and left him be, he felt himself being pulled in by the second mention of Y/N’s name. He wasn’t just hearing things like how he dismissed it the first time, his wishful thoughts of seeing Y/N again weren’t just shifts in the trees outside their building or chatter among staff. It was Y/N, it was really Y/N. He wasn’t just existing in the side conversations he and other members would have about how much they missed him. He was here.

“You’re here…” A gleeful chuckle almost slipped out from under Jisung’s tongue as he just gawked at Y/N with a smile cracked wide open.

“Uh- yeah… I am…” Y/N scratched at his head with a nervous smile. The guilt for the trail of silence he left behind after he was let go was settling just a little bit more. “Sorry, you couldn’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I’d be disappointed if it was that easy…” Jisung joked back, his eyes immediately fixing on the brush Y/N held in his hands. He shot up straight, excitement blazing wildly in his eyes. “You’re doing Sungchan’s makeup!? Please do mine next!”

“But you just finished-”

“I don’t care, I missed you… And I just want a little more glitter, that’s it.” Jisung pointed coyly at his cheeks as he whined; it was a perfect place for the star-shaped glitter Y/N had packed at the bottom of his bag. Shuffling up and behind Shotaro with wide, begging eyes, Jisung didn’t let up until he could see a light flicker in the gaze under Y/N’s ballcap. “Please~”

“Okay, fine-”

“Me too!”

The four of them looked over to Taeyong, who was standing closer to them than they thought. He was looking over all of them with a fond smile, his eyes on Y/N the entire time, soaking him in and the happiness in his eyes that Taeyong hasn’t had the luxury of seeing in so long. Even if Y/N wasn’t on stage with them, singing and rapping all the lyrics he’s ghost-written for every single one of them, or humming the melodies of the songs they sang each other to sleep with in their darkest times; then at least Y/N was still here in their orbit. All of NCT is making sure to never let Y/N go adrift again.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N.”

By the time Y/N looked up from Sungchan’s eager, patient smile to see Taeyong’s very own grin, every single member of NCT was lined up behind them. Sungchan, Shotaro, Jisung, and Taeyong; even members like Mark, Johnny, and Jungwoo, members Y/N knew with a knowing smile were just sitting in line to make an excuse to talk to Y/N, pretending they needed him to even out their eyeliner.

“Me too…” Y/N said, content draped between every one of his words like honey.

Y/N took a breath and handled every one of his members with care, feeling proud as he could still make them laugh through their concealer, and squishing each and every one of their blush-lined cheeks when he was done with them. Perhaps this wasn’t what he initially wanted, or dreamed of, or sacrificed years of his life in a prison of smudged mirrors and looped songs for, but with a little bit of time, Y/N supposed that this could be close enough. He’s still wanted and needed and loved and appreciated.

That was enough.

Sungchan leaned against the wall, makeup done and smiling fondly through tinted lips over to where Y/N was still standing. He was still messing and playing around with the last of the members in his line, applying fine layers of shadow with the grace that reminded Sungchan of every time he watched Y/N dance and make the melody his, wrap the song around all of those precise movements of his that made both Shotaro and Sungchan practically swoon for him every time. Sungchan’s bright smile at the sight of Y/N’s happiness was cut short, however, when someone turned him around by the shoulder.

It was their manager, a frown hanging for dear life on the edge of her lips.

“Sungchan,” she started with a lecturing tone, “he was only supposed to do your makeup and then be done. He wasn’t supposed to stay around with you guys for long.” The manager tried to chastise Sungchan, but it fell on deaf ears as he just looked over her blankly.

“Well,” Sungchan started, lifting an eyebrow. “You should’ve thought twice about taking him away from us because he’ll always be one of NCT. There’s nothing you or his contracts can ever do to change that.”

In an act of unusual defiance that left his chest light, Sungchan pushed past her to join the members that Y/N finished touching up at the stairs to the stage. Just before they were called up, however, Sungchan hung back, looking behind him to see Shotaro wrapping Y/N up in a hug, trying to take as much of him into the blue lights of the stage as possible. With a giggle, Sungchan joined them, humming into Y/N’s hair, wrapping his arms tighter around Y/N and Shotaro.

“I’m sorry I broke our promise…” Y/N’s voice was weak and frail, as if it were a breath he’s held onto for far too long. “I-”

He was stopped by Shotaro, who took Y/N’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. It was so gentle, sweet and warm like the summer days they dreamed of sharing on stage. Dancing together under flurries of neon lights, bathing in cheers and the blues of the skies that would shatter beneath them. Shotaro’s lips to Y/N’s skin were like a daydream, a flicker of sunlight that lingered with a shimmer as he pulled back to look him in his eyes.

“Don’t be dumb, Y/N, none of this is your fault… We’re just so glad you’re here with us still, even if it’s not in the way we dreamed of…” Shotaro took Y/N’s hand, caressing his knuckles.

Sungchan took Y/N’s other hand, bringing the palm to his lips, tracing its lines with kisses the colour of midnight - subtle, cool to the touch, but intoxicating like the moonlight they would all get high on together during their evening walks by the city’s nearest coastlines. Sungchan’s embrace reminded Y/N of the times the three of them left their shoes abandoned, threw caution to the salt-stained sea breeze, and danced in the waters until they were knee-deep and half-soaked in clementine tides, silhouetted by the sun that sank with them.

“We love you, and we’re not letting you go again.” Shotaro said, exchanging a nod and grin with Sungchan and taking his hand as well. They looked back at Y/N, the time stopping, the lights circling them in slow motion, the blue light of the stage pouring in through the stairway, it stung their skin in the best way.

“That’s a promise we’ll swear to keep.” Sungchan sighed, bringing Y/N and Shotaro in closer. They were given a second chance, a new glow is on their horizons now and they’re not going to let it fade this time.

“It’s a promise…”

215 notes · View notes

nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

here’s to us; seo changbin

(6,515 words) - large

summary ➣ A past history of mistakes and unresolved conflicts left Y/N and Changbin’s once flourishing friendship in shambles. When they find each other as neighbours in the same apartment complex, though, they end up spending a lot more time together than they ever intended to.

genre ➣ fluff

requested - 👍

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Y/N dusted his hands off as he shoved another box into the corner of his still empty apartment, the only thing now taking up space on the sheen of the laminate floorboards being the stacks and arrangements of mismatched and misplaced boxes. Boxes for the kitchen wound up in the far corner of the living space, the mattress was in the bathroom, pillows and sheets on top of a long container Y/N would probably use as a couch until he finally wasn’t lazy enough to unpack and build the one he bought hours before he was set to move into this place.

This was the first place Y/N’s ever owned, and even the sunlight could tell as it shone on all the scattered boxes with what felt like a teasing chuckle in its shimmer. It was far from the suburb where he started, and even farther from the schools he went to during times he thought that was all life had to offer. Every step outside the threshold of what he knew was this ever-constant expansion of a story he never quite knew how to write properly, and as he stared out to his rooms of soon-to-be actual furniture, he realized that the long, enduring shines of what he thought were hard times and slow paces were just a flicker of sunset-stained light to him now.

Seungmin hunched over beside him to heave a dramatic groan, a box between his legs as they both stood by the doorway. Looking at him with a fond smile, Y/N realized how easy it was to laugh at who he was, who he used to be; all the shades of him Seungmin had to put up with, and the sides of Seungmin that Y/N still needs to put up with from time to time.

“All this lifting is either gonna make me hella swole or give me fucking scoliosis.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting either of those happen ‘cause I know you won’t shut up about either.” Y/N cringed at the thought of both images in his head. and took Seungmin’s box into his hands. He completely ignored the scrawlings on its side and put it by the kitchen’s archway - the system that he and Seungmin devised in the car were completely futile and useless at this point. He was quite impressed, actually, with how quickly they could dismantle their shoddily arranged plans to be organized - at least that part of them, they will never outgrow.

Watching as the sunlight caught their heavy breaths and strained laughter, worn out by all the lifting, as Seungmin caught up to him through the doorway, Y/N couldn’t help but think that they never quite grew at all - finding themselves in a world too large to fit in. But they liked it that way, knowing that things were never going to stop changing, expanding, and that their quest on drunkenly chasing sunsets just out of reach was just a part of life.

“Thanks. Love you too, Y/N.”

They made their way up to the windows at the end of the living area, and stared out toward the cityscape, the afternoon’s clear blue sky dipping all the tips of the buildings in the ivories of the afternoon sunlight, and setting alight this motion that will never cease even when the blues of the sky are snuffed out by the night. FInally getting to be a part of this, adding their colours into the sunset, was both all they ever dreamed of and yet something they barely thought twice about; it was surreal.

“So, moving in, check,” Y/N surveyed the room, his feeling of accomplishment instantly stifled by the beiges and dull browns of the boxes they brought with them and had strewn about the floor. Somehow, the room looked emptier than it did when they started. “Okay, half-check, maybe quarter-check…”

“I’m okay with sleeping in the car tonight, there’s no way we’re bringing these boxes in here and taking the shit out of the boxes on the same day.” Seungmin shuddered at the thought of even opening the boxes with the room keys Y/N was given - they left the one thing they really needed, their box-cutter, at Seungmin’s place. Even beginning to comprehend opening the boxes, taking the assorted things out, thinking about where they needed to go, and putting them in places!? It literally shorted out Seungmin’s mind.

“Wow, ‘cause doing two separate things in one sitting…? That’s a crazy concept.” Y/N only let out a chuckle at Seungmin’s whines and cries into the ceiling, wondering about how they even graduated college with official degrees and everything. “But we can take a break and I’ll do the rest. I know how doing work really racks your brain…” It was Seungmin’s turn to let a faint, still breathless chuckle wander about the room, tracking its own light across where sunlight pooled and dripped down boxes and between floorboards. “I really appreciate you coming and helping me.”

“Excuse me.” Seungmin moved in to wrap an arm around Y/N, bringing him to an embrace that only Y/N’s even been wrapped up in. That lazy, one-armed hug of Seungmin’s that made all of Y/N’s worries flutter away. “What kind of 3-in-the-morning-hookup-turned-bestie would I be if I didn’t help you move into your first apartment?”

Now that they’re friends, all their years of hormonal and desperation-induced horniness put aside - for the most part - Seungmin will never lose an opportunity to remind them of how it all started. A vodka-induced blur of UNO cards, mood lighting, and Y/N turning his head in just the right way to catch the shimmering violet LEDs in his eyes, the moonlight’s flowers falling around him, spilling down the vintage tank top and fishnet sleeves one of their mutual friends picked out for him. Y/N hit him with a +4 for the third time that night, and Seungmin had enough and lunged for him.

They’ve been side by side ever since, put in each other’s friend zones the moment they had the chance.

“Can you please stop talking about that…?” Y/N hid his face in his hands, the only thing he was reminded of being that awkward conversation they had the morning of through their hangovers. “I can’t believe I asked if I was a bad kisser…”

“Well, we haven’t since that day, so I think you got your answer-” Seungmin was cut off by a jab to his stomach, and his wince in pain unfolded into unyielding laughter.

“Let’s get some sustenance before you make me regret my life choices yet again.”

Following in the echoes of Seungmin’s laughter, they made their way back out the door, prepared to get lost in those never-ending plazas of hipster-style coffee shops. They were just about to lock up with the keys Y/N had tucked away in his pocket before they heard this clacking jangle of yet another set of freshly assigned room keys spilling out from the elevator just down the hall. It’s only been a few long, grueling hours, but Y/N’s already used to the way the plastic tag with his room number used to ring against his other keys - at least before Seungmin tore it off in a fit of rage since the sound was just a little too annoying for him.

They both looked up from the door’s lock, trailing the sound of the footsteps that came with the careless jangle of the keys, until the figure made it to the door right next to theirs. Y/N kept staring, their silhouette against the odd shade of maroon that was slathered on their hallways, it looked so familiar. It wasn’t until their eyes locked that all parties involved realized that it was too late, the mistake was already made.

His neighbour, the person he’ll be living next to until one of them get evicted or are forced on the run, is none other than Seo Changbin; the scourge of his last few years of encroaching deadlines, thesis statements and work that’d drive him into sleepless nights. However, Y/N knew that he was just as much a menace to Changbin, too, they didn’t make it easy for each other.

They instantly recoiled and set curses alight in the air, while Seungmin just stood there, awe-struck and too in the loop on their history - all the secrecy he’s sworn to Y/N under dim lamplight and over psychology textbooks now slipped out from under his tongue in a stammered sound that only made the angered, flustered heat in Changbin’s face burn brighter, boil over.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Changbin cried out, throwing his hands up in the air.

“No… This can’t be real, this has to be the caffeine withdrawal kicking in…” Y/N’s voice was a lot softer than Changbin’s but the emotions that stirred in him were just as viscous, making the anger that coated his words just as dense and heavy and suffocating. Seungmin wanted to reach out and stand between them, toss haphazard insults in Changbin’s face for all the things he’s put Y/N’s heart through. But he also understood their trials and tribulations a little too well - he didn’t know if it was his place, so he just stayed back.

“I can’t believe you’re my neighbour! Out of all places…”

“I was here first! You’re MY neighbour, bitch!”

Changbin waved off Y/N’s retort with a shake of his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and thinking back to all they days swallowed up by his and Y/N’s arguments, by their unread texts and unlistened-to voicemails and all the things in between that they failed to tie off and leave to rest - yet it still left knots in their stomachs. “As if life couldn’t get any fucking worse.”

“It can get a lot fucking worse…”

They locked eyes once again, and it’s been so long since they’ve done so. All the sparks and light and colour that once dyed their stares are gone or changed too drastically for them to notice. All they could make out of their glares as they took each other in was the moment they couldn’t bear to look each other in the eye anymore, when they needed to see their mutuals in shifts and when they’d talk shit behind each other’s backs and claim it was ‘venting’.

They thought that the moment they left that school, the moment they left each other’s circles and became their own people, all the spectacle and hardship and bitterness in retrospect would fall from their firsts. However, they figured out the hard way that all the tension, all the grudges, and turmoil they held between each other were all still wound up in their fists.

“Believe me, I know.”

Y/N couldn’t stop himself from throwing something right back, no matter how thoughtless it was. Seeing Changbin here, it made Y/N fall back on who he used to be back when they meant something to each other.. The Y/N who always needed to get the last word in so nobody could say anything else, the Y/N who always needed to fight back and fight for himself when he felt too unsafe to have anybody fight for him. The Y/N who was constantly feeling the need to protect himself and what he held close to his chest in fear that it would all be stolen away from him. It just all flooded back, and Changbin was that glaring reminder that he’ll never truly abandon the shadows and doubt in him that helped tear this rift between them in the first place.

“I’ve learned not to believe the things you say.”

In that moment of silence that almost bordered on remorseful, Changbin lowered his eyes and slipped through the front door of his apartment - not forgetting to slam it behind him just to be petty and rupture the air lit ablaze that he already left Y/N and Seungmin to stand in. Y/N tried to shake all of it off, this immediate, intense spike of anger that made all of his skin want to recede, curl in on itself, and let his blood simmer in the same ways it did the last time he saw Changbin’s face - he wondered if that anger, that unyielding, painful anger, would render him just as restless yet fatigued as it did last time. He could already feel it filing in, all the agonies he thought he uprooted and threw away with the rest of the parts he hated about his undergrad years.

But here Changbin was, a shining star in all his nights spent parading down streets with people he can barely remember, all his mornings hungover and time slipping away from him like the wishes he’d toss out to any sky that would listen - the wishes to stay in these moments forever. His earnestness, his dedication to a life that was nothing but an illusion that left him with a really shitty headache, all he wanted to do was separate himself from all of it. There was once a time where Changbin was the only thing left to smile for in that life of veneers and veiled ‘I’m fine’s and collapsed emotional intelligence.

All those mornings pulled taut around them as Changbin would slip under the space in Y/N’s covers that he always left for him - Changbin’s hands combing back Y/N’s hair, hands comfortingly and instinctively settled on his hips, the whispers into his shoulders in that delicate melody that surprised Y/N even still. They would spend all of their mornings like that, and leave Seungmin to walk in on them tangled up in bedsheets with the dawn’s light pulled out from under them as they’d be fast asleep by noon, Y/N on Changbin’s chest, arms at his waist. Seungmin’s exclamations were always the funniest things, and Y/N and Changbin would ease it into every conversation they had when Seungmin would walk with them to their regular coffee shop.

That coffee shop was leagues away now, and so are the colours that painted those memories with such vivid beauty.

Y/N wanted to laugh and smile and reminisce on those days, but he couldn’t help but let a scowl out first with how quickly they both let them unravel and fall and crumble and fade away not just nothing, but twist up into something so much worse. They just couldn’t help but fan each other’s flames in attempts to build things back up in the worst ways.

Drunk altercations at parties, desperate attempts to reclaim what they had in five-minute windows as their friends went to pick up food, conversations they had where nobody was truly listening. They just made it so much worse.

“Are you okay, Y/N…? That was a pretty rude awakening to our new life, huh…?” Seungmin tried to laugh off the stale silence between him and Y/N, the ashes of the curses Y/N and Changbin hurled into the air. But as Y/N turned around and scrubbed at his face with his hands, there was this unreadable glint in his expression that left Seungmin with nothing left to say, nothing left to play off. He could tell Y/N was holding something back - he was holding everything back.

Y/N let his head fall against Seungmin’s shoulder as he moved in to wrap his arms around Y/N and pull him into a wordless embrace.

“Now I really need coffee if I’m gonna survive this…”

It took a lot more than just an obscenely large cup of coffee to help Y/N survive his circumstances. It took wasting hours and hours of his time unpacking and moving and re-moving furniture around his room until all he could think about was the sound of boxes and half-finished shelves screeching against the laminate flooring, and not the opening and closing of the door right next to his. It took Y/N dragging Seungmin out under an early violet evening to take their minds off everything, wander the town, get lost in the streets, do whatever they could to get sidetracked and do anything but acknowledge Changbin, what they were, what they used to be, and even, to a certain extent, what they are now.

A lot of who Y/N and Changbin are have been lost to them now, over a couple summers of no contact, of severing phone lines and patterns of daily text conversations - good, filled with affection, or bad, nothing but unintelligible arguments in all caps. The uncertainty, the threat of retrospect scared Y/N, and he wanted to do anything but confront what actually happened. All he wanted to do was remember the emotions that followed, their intensity, their potency, how they strangled any rational thought - ironically, it was easier than reflecting on it, and Y/N and Seungmin would always chuckle about how much they thought they’ve grown. Yet Y/N can’t seem to wrap his head around Changbin.

As desperately as Y/N’s wanted to avoid Changbin - and vice versa - over the last few weeks since their harrowing discovery of being neighbours, it’s as if their days have consisted of nothing but glimpses of each other. They enter the hall at the same time, share agonizingly long elevator rides to the ground floor to pick up food, and sit on opposite benches in the laundry room as they wait for their dry-cleaning to be done. It’s as if the universe, those sick and twisted and spiteful laws of gravity have forced them to revolve around each other - and they hated it.

However, they didn’t necessarily know why, all they knew was that they saw each other, and anger flowed through them. They’ve had their moments of silent, reluctant reflection on why or how it could be as they let their eyes drift across each other in lines at the same coffee shop, or as Changbin catches Y/N and Seungmin slipping through their front door and their gazes line up just right. They don’t even recoil as they see each other, there’s simply this blankness that rests between them, one that’s waiting for answers.

Y/N leaned against the washing machine as he slammed the door shut and let it start up with a chug and a rumble, as its mechanical stutters always seemed to satisfying to him - then again, anything was a little bit more peaceful than the sassy lilt in Seungmin’s voice, as much as Y/N loved it. He drew his phone from his pocket, something to distract himself from the quiet of the room, but as soon as he let his gaze drift over the top of his screen, he caught a figure stumbling through the doorway with a basket teeming with crumpled shirts, constantly teetering off balance.

“Here, let me help you.” Y/N murmured before slipping his phone back into his pocket and rushing over to help this person steady themselves. He took the basket from them, set it on the nearest bench and gave a dramatic, heaving sigh of relief as he noted the brief sting in his arms and how heavy this basket actually was. “I honestly think this place should put height restrictions on piles of clothes, they’re literally hazards.” Y/N said without looking up, a blur of familiar colours shifting about in the corner of his eyes only clearing up as a just as familiar voice - one that lingered in the light and shadow of all his college days - rose into the air between them.

Changbin scratched at the back of his head, something that bordered on a nervous smile seeping into the stoicism of his indifferent expression. “Yes, clothing is a hazard indeed. Becoming a nudist colony would solve all our problems.”

Slight laughter escaped Y/N before he fully turned to take in Changbin, a half smile now remorselessly stamped on his face. Y/N wanted to catch it, chase it around the corner and through the doorway, but he just let it fall out as they looked at each other, took each other in under this surprisingly weightless silence that fell in the cracks of Y/N’s faded chuckling. Changbin in a hoodie, half-zipped and exposing basically all his chest - inches of skin that Y/N can recall with almost too much ease, sweats hung low around his waist; and Changbin couldn’t help but catch the way these warm overhead lights caught the glow in Y/N’s cheeks, as he seemed set alight by a loose, dark knit sweater and some loose trousers.

They stood like that for a while, until Changbin struggled through the layers of silence piling on top of them. This was what they seemed to be now, not stifled in heaps of animated groans and tyrades in hallways with vitriol spewed from their mouths, not even rolling eyes and scoffs or heavy sighs. It was this…

This easy yet uneasy, this deafening yet oddly serene type of quiet. It was one that practically begged them to speak, urged them to fill it with something. But with every interaction they’ve had over the past few days - bumping into each other in the library, mixing up their coffee orders since they’ve still seemed to order the same exact thing after two years, and, like now, finding each other as the only ones in this apartment complex who seem to wash their clothes on a regular basis - they’ve left that silence disappointed with hasty getaways and awkward farewells.

Changbin couldn’t help but be drawn in, though, drawn into this silence by the way Y/N stood turned out toward him like this. He was almost expectant, but Changbin couldn’t tell for sure. The light in Y/N’s eyes have changed a bit, but they still haven’t lost that luster, and the melody of sarcasm that always hung on the end of Y/N’s words - something he conditioned himself to hate - left this sweet aftertaste in the air.

“Hi…”

Was all Changbin could think of, a vacant, drawing ‘hi’ as if they haven’t been in each other’s presence for the past few minutes and decided against all the instincts that begged to run, be rid of this. He stuck with the way his heart wanted him to remain completely still. Don’t move, stay here, look for a little bit longer…

“Uh… Hey…” Was all Y/N could say back, completely frozen with his head turned toward Changbin. Despite all the urges that have fueled his anger and frustrations for the past couple years, Y/N, too, has found himself incapable of looking away. That slight, hesitant smile, the shine in his eyes that he only lets certain people ever see; these were things that were nothing but painful reminders of a lifetime’s worth of fuck-ups and misguided impulses and mornings in lecture halls with hangover-induced migranes and wasting life away one mistake at a time, thinking there was so much more of it left. However, these things that used to be so agonizing to remember have, all of the sudden, assumed their former light.

It was as if they were experiencing each other for the first time, all over again.

“Wow, we're off to a wonderful start.” Changbin peeled another chuckle from his tongue, feeling that mocking sting of awkwardness between them. He didn’t expect anything else, hell, he didn’t expect to make it this far - for Y/N to meet his gaze and not instantly flee the vicinity. He couldn’t help but keep his smile on as Y/N returned his awkward laughter with a slight, faint giggle of his own, a particular melody he let fill the room whenever he was trying too hard to find something to say.

Y/N shrugged, he didn’t expect to make it this far with Changbin either. Even if they were victims of circumstance, caught in the laundry room yet again with nothing but the whirring of the machines to keep them company in their thick, suffocating idling, it was better than nothing, and better than how they started out. “Well, I mean, it’s a lot better than the other ways I imagined it going.”

“True.” Changbin crossed his arms and nodded, taking in how Y/N averted his gaze, but only slightly until it fell back onto Changbin - as if he was reading him. Based on how things ended between them, how things crashed and burned around them, went up in all the sunset-coloured flames they lit under each other’s skin, he couldn’t blame Y/N for the caution he was taking.

As much as he wanted to tell Y/N to just let go, and urge him that things were okay, Changbin wasn’t completely convinced of that himself, even as they were getting accustomed to this new, foreign and strange sense of comfort between them. He wanted Y/N to talk to him, though, to stay here and pass the time with him - even if two years worth of silence and then a couple weeks of non-stop antagonism may have implied otherwise.

“So… Are you gonna stay here a while, or…?”

“I mean, yeah, Seungmin and I went thrifting and we have no idea where that shit has been, so…”

Y/N trailed off, not really recognizing his words before saying them as he fidgeted with his hands and gestured meekly toward the washer he claimed as his. They can recall with something close to a fond smile, an argument they had over Changbin using it for himself, and accidentally washing the brightness out of all Y/N’s whites the next day. The Sherlock Holmes-level investigation Y/N and Seungmin underwent, and that tense altercation at Changbin’s doorway - even that leaves Changbin thinking about all the things he still likes about Y/N, hsi scrunch-nosed scowl, that serious glint in his eye, that accomplished air he gets whenever he’s right.

Y/N felt this need to continue the conversation, and he found himself grasping at empty air for words. “Are you…?”

“Yeah, I got way too much shit to wash.”

“Right…”

This silence, this stifling, overly and unnecessarily awkward silence, Changbin couldn’t bear it and neither could Y/N. They had questions, so many questions burning on the tips of their tongues, seething through their pursed lips. Y/N couldn’t keep it in anymore, he couldn’t just walk away from their issues like they did back then.

“Hey, Changbin…?” As Changbin fully turned out to meet Y/N, he suddenly felt any urge to speak, any urge to bring up that tension lingering between them suddenly fell away from him, slipping from his grasp. He wasn’t too sure whether he had a grip on it in the first place. “Can I ask you something…?”

“Uh, sure, go for it.”

Y/N took a breath. He didn’t know if he was ready to unearth all these feelings, all the memories and feelings associated with all their stupid actions, but something - this comforting, stoic glint in Changbin’s unmoving, stable gaze - let Y/N know that it wasn’t going to be as bad as he thinks it will.

“How did all this shit start?” It was all rushing back in, long nights, mornings cut short and eclipsed by Changbin’s shoulders, all the honey splayed out before them on every evening they spent together, and all the burnt sugar on the ends of their horizons as they watched everything burn to the ground, feeding the fires with incoherent arguments and words they can never take back - even now… “I mean, of course I know, but…”

Before all of this, before they’ve trudged through years of their calamitous fallout that’s still left them confused to a certain extent, Y/N and Changbin used to be everything to each other. At least, their concept of everything at the time - they were young, impulsive, needy, dependent, misguided children who saw what they thought was all they needed in a passerby at one of their mutual friend’s get-togethers. Y/N just seemed to stand out enough in the strobe lighting with that beautiful, tipsy smile of his, and Changbin just seemed to be good enough of a kisser to keep them in each other’s arms and on each other’s liquor stained minds all night.

They got together and stayed together in this sort of epiphanous state where they thought they were invincible, that they knew everything that was coming, that there was nothing that they couldn’t handle as long as they had each other to waste away the days with, down them like they did the tequila shots that brought them together in the first place. Their home was built atop a shaky foundation, a home that was never meant to last. It was only a matter of time until they collapsed in on themselves like stars burning too bright.

Even with all they felt they were, how much of the world they thought they wrapped their head around, they never could’ve prepared themselves for how much work it was going to be to keep up the kind of relationship that they wanted and expected from each other. They went into it blind, and they ended up being blind to each other, what they truly wanted and needed, and how they were destroying each other in the process. The idea of love was lost upon them, the idea of true, heartfelt attraction was cracked and frail and fragile. They didn’t communicate until it was too late, and when they did communicate, it was through tyrades of shit-talk behind each other’s backs, through text conversations that only left them worse off than they initially were, and smouldering looks through hallways and across lecture halls and then nothing - as if they billowed out into their finally breaths of smoke.

“Things just changed so quickly, you know? And I feel like we never had any closure aside from just… Not talking anymore…” Now here they were, staring into each other’s eyes and seeing everything they’ve been through in their stares. It made them stop to gather their breath for a second, all the breath they stole from each other and all the breath they wasted on saying nasty, hurtful things to each other while they could’ve just talked like normal people, like they are now… “Even now, just a few weeks ago, we were screaming at the top of our lungs and foaming at the mouth because of how much we hated each other. But I can’t help but look back on it and think about what was actually so bad about it - or rather, all the things we blew out of proportion.”

“Yeah… We’ve felt pretty heightened emotions based on this one thing, but when I look back on it too, I just think about how stupid we were for dragging it out this long…” Changbin shook his head as he made his way over to Y/N, and Y/N welcomed Changbin’s touch as he rested his hand on Y/N’s arm, fingers dancing along the seam of his sweater sleeve. “We were just wrong for each other at the time, we basically destroyed each other, and I would never want to hurt you… I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“I never wanted to hurt you either, I never wanted us to feel that kind of pain…” Y/N took a breath, absently playing around with the zipper of Changbin’s half-zipped hoodie. His voice was quiet, uncertain, and barely there as he spoke. He never thought they’d ever get this far, and he could feel his breath leaking from his chest. “I still feel awful, though, because I liked you… A lot… I was just so confused and misguided at the time, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t have to be then, either.” With a faint smile, Changbin nudged Y/N in the chest. Y/N’s faint giggle only made it easier for him to continue. These are all the things he’s wanted to say for so long, it was difficult to find the words at the start, but now, he could feel them flooding out - things he’s always wanted to say, things he’s always wanted Y/N to hear. “Something tells me that we spent a lot of time either being sorry for ourselves or for each other…”

“Okay, fine. If I’m not sorry for that, then I’m sorry for the way everything turned out - we were fucking messes…” Y/N said, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “Wow, is this what it’s like…? Talking like actual human beings…?”

“Crazy concept, I know… We’ve been ‘fucking messes’ for far too long.”

This silence bloomed in between them, not like a cloud of smoke that left them blinded from the words that they were going to say next. But it was comforting, this moment of recognition, patches of beautiful tulips and roses that reminded them of how relieving silence could be.

“Hey…” Changbin moved a little closer, his hands that traced Y/N’s arms tentatively grew braver, taking Y/N by his hands, finding space between his fingers. Y/N didn’t stop him, he didn't want Changbin to stop. He just let Changbin bring him closer, ever-so-slightly closer with the slightest tug on his hands, on his wrists.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad we’re here.”

This was how it all started, and it was by this faint, delicate grasp on Y/N’s fingertips that they chose to end by too. But if this closing distance between them was any indication, then their flames were far from burning out. Changbin took Y/N’s chin in his hand, and Y/N felt himself leaning into the gravity that was always there, that pulled them together and forced them apart, that relentless revolution that always kept them closer to each other than they think. He never lost the memory of Changbin’s skin on his…

It was going to be far from a memory.

“Me too…”

Changbin leaned in, Y/N leaned in, and this kiss between them was this brief flicker of the brightest sunlight. A whisper of heavy rain and flashing lightning and roaring thunder, and the instant bloom of the flowers that always came afterward. As Y/N pulled Changbin in and eased his tongue between Changbin’s teeth - almost as easily as it was whenever they were drunk on rum and early sunlight - he realized that this moment between them was always destined to happen, the end of their first world was only the beginning of another.

Their kiss was brief, momentary, but it was all they needed to realize what they had. It was still there in their hands, melting from fingertips, spilling down chests as Y/N brought his arms around Changbin’s neck ona reflex he never truly lost. All of them - every single piece of them that they thought they scattered in the places and people they left behind - was right here. It’s always been in the places they found themselves next.

They pulled back, and it felt as if they were hung on each other’s lips forever.

Changbin had his hands in the curves of Y/N’s neck, and his fingers rose up to take Y/N under his jaw. That subtle smile on Y/N’s lips and the way it glimmered under the warm amber lights seemingly spinning over them, Changbin missed it so much. He couldn’t believe that he ever made resolutions to never see it again, to see anything but beauty in all the light Y/N had between his teeth. Every kiss with Y/N sent Changbin’s head spinning - Y/N’s never lost his touch or the way it wandered, but even in the midst of his dizzying thoughts, Changbin scrambled to say something. He didn’t want this to end.

“Are you free tomorrow…? Maybe we can catch up over some coffee or whatnot?”

“Smooth as always, Binnie.” Y/N rolled his eyes with a giggle, leaning into Changbin’s hands and kissing his palm. He took one of his hands from Changbin’s shoulders to wrap his fingers around Changbin's, squeezing them gently with a widening smile that bordered on that knowing, sarcastic smirk that always bloomed and shone in the night. “That sounds great.”

“I haven’t lost my touch.” Changbin said that, but all he could think about was Y/N’s, and how his lips traced the lines of his palms as if he never forgot the ways Changbin signed their names along Y/N’s spine. How his grip, his clutches and the ways his fingers danced along Changin’s skin sent him reeling, left him senseless for what seemed like never long enough. “See you then?” Changbin reluctantly turned around, and Y/N reluctantly let go.

“See you.”

Changbin was almost out the door, empty-handed, until he was stopped by the ear-piercing shriek of his washing machine’s cry out. It was a shrill beep that marked the half-way point of his washer’s cycle.

Oh, right… The laundry.

Shuffling back into the room with a furious blush on his face, closing his eyes in sheer embarrassment as Y/N’s cackling swiftly flooded the room in its beautiful yet dreadful melody and ring, Changbin made his way back to where Y/N was.

“There there…” Y/N took Changbin in his arms, and just let him soak in the humiliation of yet another awkward goodbye to set atop their countless stacks of them. Frantic waves in the same direction, regular run-ins with corners of walls and posts of door frames as they lost themselves in each other’s eyes on the way out, any goodbye that was left unfinished they’ve already done and experienced and thought too long about. “I guess our awkward goodbyes were never far behind us.”

“We should’ve thought this through…” Changbin murmured into Y/N’s shoulder, still recovering from the trauma that just occurred, but he gathered himself and sat on the bench, looking up at Y/N.

“We never think things through, so this is pretty on brand for us.”

They chuckled at themselves and Y/N joined Changbin on the bench, finding his place right next to Changbin a lot easier than it ever seemed to be. Their laughter petered out, its faint sparks hovering in the air around them, carving into the walls like stars and settling between them. Their hands slowly inched toward each other, fingertips grazing, touching, settling atop each other. The beginning of the eclipsing of their touch after a world of light that seemed so off when their shadows weren’t there to dance in and carve into the sunset.

“Us…” Changbin’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the way he said it. ‘Us’... It sounded so rich, beautiful, gilded sunsets and warm smiles once lost to them. “That sounds nice, ‘us’...”

He knew he couldn’t hate anything of Y/N’s for long, that took too much work. And Y/N’s humour, his voice, his eyes, his skin, his face, the way he seemed to be framed so beautifully in all the clothes he wears, Changbin also knew he could never truly dislike anything of Y/N’s, get tired of any of these things - Y/N made it so difficult to fall out of love with all those little things.

It was only a matter of time until what they thought were their shattered worlds fell back in place, piece by piece.

“Yeah, us…”

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nobodyeverasked · 3 years ago

Text

head in the clouds; xu minghao

(5,372 words) - large

summary ➣ Minghao adores his boyfriend, Y/N - with how affectionate he is and how tall he is, he always makes Minghao feel safe. However, he never really noticed Y/N’s reservations about these things until the piling up of all their little habits makes Y/N’s insecurities boil over.

genre ➣ fluff

requested - 👍

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Nothing filled the living room of Minghao and Y/N’s apartment but the ivory pool of afternoon sunlight rippling across their coffee table, and the delicate breath of Minghao’s book pages whenever they were turned over. For the first time in a while that Minghao wished was longer, Minghao was alone on the couch. The dark green fabric of its cushions taken in under his weight and his weight only, not that of him and Y/N whenever he’d be taken into Y/N’s arms, swept up in an embrace that would leave them both asleep by the time Minghao would be halfway through counting the shimmers in Y/N’s eyes.

Minghao felt again the emptiness in the space below and beside or around him, all the places Y/N would be to hold him and press his lips to Minghao’s neck and have his breath trickle down Minghao’s spine as he’d always complain about Y/N breaking his focus on whatever he’d be reading. However, Y/N always knew that Minghao could never focus on anything else but the way Y/N traced his waistline with his hands the moment they found each other within arm’s reach.

When Minghao brought Y/N closer with a pouty whine he’d never let leave the house, and wrap Y/N’s arms around his shoulders himself before Y/N would do the rest and take Minghao down in the closest soft surface; that’s when Minghao knew it was all over, and that he had no choice but to surrender to the light that shone under their touches, burned bright between their chests.

A certain clack of their unlocked front door, and the creak of its hinges brought Minghao right out of his trance-like state that the words in his book transported him to. No realm outside of Y/N’s arms was ever strong enough to keep him for long - Y/N was always the next thing on his mind.

“Honey~ I’m home.” A tired, weathered chant came from the front corridor, and Minghao smiled as its melody practically filled up the entire room, everywhere the afternoon sunlight had yet to touch. Looking over the back of the couch, Minghao shone a bright grin when Y/N rounded the corner. He was clad in one of Minghao’s ‘so-ugly-it’s-cute’ knit sweaters and the same brown vest of the bookstore he worked at - where they first met, where they first fell in love, where Y/N got yelled at by his boss after falling into a conversation with Minghao by the back of the store about books of poetry they loved.

How Minghao lingered in the same section of obscure unorganized books until Y/N’s lunch break, when they took a stroll around the block and picked up right where they left off; when Minghao brought Y/N back to his apartment for coffee and tea, and soon chamomile coloured kisses as Minghao tenderly recited his favourite poetry with a flushed, smiling Y/N under his hands. Whenever Y/N would come home from work and greet Minghao with his warm embrace, those were the things that Minghao always remembered and never dared to let slip from the front of his mind.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey…” Y/N stopped at the couch and rested his hands on Minghao’s shoulders, later dipping down and wrapping his arms around Minghao’s neck to hug him in a way that always left Minghao unravelling at where he stroked Y/N’s knuckles and kissed his fingers. Letting go after squeezing just a little bit tighter and hearing Minghao feign a choking noise with the widest smile Y/N’s ever seen, Y/N looked down to see a book across Minghao’s lap - the one he recommended at the start of their first awkward conversation. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Y/N rose up, hands slipping away from Minghao’s loose grip on his fingers, as if he had touched scorching hot sand. He missed the small pout Minghao lent toward the wall ahead of them.

It was no secret between them how much Minghao loved the way Y/N always curled around him, or the way he always tugged Y/N in to embrace him, as that feeling of being swept away by the smell of old books and subtle lavender shampoo Y/N kept stealing from Minghao was one that Minghao never wanted to be rid of. They’ve made a habit - an instinct, at this point - of Minghao falling into Y/N’s arms, collapsing in his embrace, always so readily accepting his affections. The feeling of being protected, of having someone to fall into and depend on, and for someone who is there to catch him whenever he feels like stumbling; that was what Y/N gave to him.

He’s never felt safer than with Y/N, he’s never felt more loved than with Y/N.

This was partially due to Y/N’s height, and the smile that flourished on Minghao’s lips the moment Y/N came close enough for him to have to tilt his head the slightest bit to meet that brilliant intrigue in Y/N’s eyes. With Y/N’s height came these sort of ‘expectations’ of how Y/N navigated his affections with Minghao. Y/N was constantly initiating, doing all the embracing and never knowing how it felt to be held or embodied by the warmth Y/N enveloped Minghao in whenever they would linger in their hug for a moment that always ended a few seconds too soon.

“No! Are you crazy?” Minghao shot up from the couch to reach Y/N’s hand as he began to walk away and set his book bag down on the dining table behind them, its leather weathered and worn since the first time they met. Y/N was jerked back to where Minghao propped himself up on the couch and wrapped his arms around Minghao’s waist. “This book was boring anyway.”

“Excuse me!?” Y/N gawked in offense, backing up with his hands on Minghao’s cheeks to make sure that he was able to take in Y/N’s widened eyes and gaping mouth; all of his disappointment and awe and pain wrapped up in one look. Minghao chuckled sheepishly, scratching at his head as he tried to think of salvaging whatever he could. “How dare you? This is quite literally the best of historical fiction in the palm of your hands,” Y/N pressed deep, frantic kisses to Minghao’s palm as he snatched it up from where Minghao was holding them up in front of his face - a desperate attempt to shield himself from Y/N’s fury. “And you dare call it ‘boring’!?”

“I didn’t mean it, I swear!” Minghao played into the drama of Y/N’s raised voice, unable to hide his grin or the laughter that seeped into his words. “It’s just that anything else is boring when you’re here…”

Y/N always awaits this time of day, especially with the way Minghao makes him feel as if their stars collide, and as Minghao always nestles into Y/N’s embrace or shrinks in his arms. This was always their pattern, Y/N gives and embraces and protects Minghao from the outside world, and Minghao receives and melts into Y/N’s touch and is sheltered in the warmth and starlight that Y/N soaks him in.

However, being someone who’s always meant to do the embracing and is never embraced, has left Y/N longing for that type of warmth that Minghao always seemed to be given - those fires dancing in his heart whenever Y/N squeezes just a little bit tighter around his shoulders as they fall asleep at five in the evening. Who would protect Y/N, and keep him safe whenever he wanted to fall? He was always at the back of the line, nothing between him and the outside whenever he was always holding Minghao - never the other way around - so nobody was there to protect him.

Initiating all the time left Y/N in this constant state of half-emptiness, and had him constantly yearning for that type of protection and ease and emotional release. He wanted to feel loved in that way, too.

Y/N always seemed to be relegated to this role of giving, supporting, being the ‘big spoon’, and constantly needing to hold someone. As much as Y/N took pride in all of those things, he always felt so exhausted by these things at the same time. He would never receive as much as he would give, and there came a point where he didn’t receive at all; that left Y/N constantly wondering, asking his moments of silence what he did wrong, or what he could be doing to get that sort of affection too. He was constantly making the first move, and that left him sad to a certain extent - insecure in himself even.

He loved Minghao, he adored him so much that he wanted to do the best he could. However, he can’t help but feel so exhausted with how Minghao would always want to be held and hugged and didn’t seem to give Y/N that similar attention.

“Well I’m here now, so let’s have some fun.” Y/N raised an eyebrow and wrapped his arms back around Minghao’s waist in a moment of stillness, a moment of Minghao’s expectation to hold him there and threaten to take him down on a couch they’re surprised hasn’t buckled under the weight of all the times they’ve done the exact same thing.

Minghao didn’t hug Y/N back in response, he never did. He just patted Y/N’s arms with a smile before Y/N let him fall back onto the couch. That yearning for Minghao to hug him back was still there, it still shone like a star in Y/N’s thoughts. And Y/N, now wrapping around the couch to straddle Minghao and pin him down by the wrists, to close in on his radiant grin and catch his manic giggles in between their teeth, is still left wanting to understand what it felt like to have that, to be the one on the receiving end of such an explicit form of love that Y/N never thought he needed until it was nowhere in sight.

Holding Minghao, bringing those beautiful little chuckles off his tongue, it began to feel a little more of a responsibility than a comfort.

What was worse was that Y/N just didn’t know how to bring it up, he didn’t know how to stitch his words and reasons and arguments together without Minghao so easily tearing it apart and watching Y/N’s threads snap on their own as Y/N would sit there, confused about what he was saying and why he felt this way. It all just left Y/N biting back a sigh as Minghao leaned in for Y/N to kiss him.

By the time evening’s colours bled into the sky, the oranges and pale roses of the sunset doing their best to leak in through the windows that Y/N and Minghao didn’t care to close, Y/N and Minghao were settled down in their bedroom. The newly painted ivory walls were dyed a faint orange, Y/N sat at the desk across from their bed with his laptop tucked between his knees, and found every way to distract himself from the half-finished essay on his computer screen by playing with the copper twines of sunlight that tangled up in his open hands.

Minghao was laying on the bed, feet dangling idly in the air as he indulged in the book he found thrown against their television stand after they parted from each other’s mouths in the morning. He knew that Y/N’s recommendations could never disappoint him - he was absolutely engrossed, and never departed from it other than to answer Y/N’s exclamations of boredom and agony as he lamented over his citations.

The air remained undisturbed otherwise, still like the surface of the waters on the west edge of town that Y/N and Minghao would take walks on whenever Minghao would need to clear his head. Y/N was always there for him, even when the muted colours of the early morning have barely settled in the sky.

However, the same couldn’t be said about Y/N’s mind, which tugged him in each and every direction.

Not about the simplicity of his thesis or inability to focus for more than five seconds without peering over his screen to look at Minghao and that subtle smile he always had on whenever they were relaxing in this room - Minghao would constantly declare this place they stripped down and built back up as their home. Y/N always found a smile blossoming on his face whenever Minghao would reminisce like that, he was glad that he had at least a part in helping Minghao feel so safe. Minghao would always seem to trail after Y/N’s thoughts, too, and pull Y/N’s arms around him as he would say that it was all because of Y/N.

Thinking about the sincerity in Minghao’s eyes, the warmth in his voice and that subtle, transient touch on Y/N’s hands before he swiftly let go and leaned in for Y/N to sweep him off his feet, it made all of the things Y/N wanted to bring up even harder to say. It was as if a single word could tear the sunlight apart, disrupt whatever peace they’ve built up together in this quiet. But Y/N couldn’t hold it back - he barely thought about what he was going to say-

“Am I too tall…?” Y/N shut his computer halfway and placed it on the desk, he turned in his chair to locate Minghao’s expression, only to find him perplexed and curious. The way Minghao’s face seemed to be so twisted up in uncertainty, it made Y/N feel as if none of what he was going to say made any sense - even to himself. “What? I just don’t seem like a ‘holdable’ size for a lot of people.” Y/N tried to sound out his feelings and insecurities the best he could, but all he wanted to do was bury his head in his hands with the tension he pulled tighter and tighter around the room.

Minghao lifted an eyebrow before pushing himself off the bed, heading toward where Y/N sat with his eyes already shining in this doubtful light. “Of course you’re holdable, you’re the perfect size.” He said, just before wrapping his arms around Y/N and kissing his cheek, gently and quickly, before returning to his book. “See? Perfectly holdable.”

This was the first time Minghao ever embraced Y/N like that, and gave him the affection he always wanted. However, Y/N’s brief happiness and relief crumbled as he realized that it was just to prove a point and nothing else. It was the only reassurance that Y/N has ever gotten for all the affection he’s given Minghao, and he didn’t want to let go of it.

“I dunno, I just don’t feel like I get held a lot…?” Y/N bit into his lip in contemplation, and he didn’t really notice how passive-aggressive that sounded until he looked back at Minghao to see his uncertain expression had yet to change. In fact, it only deepened as Minghao let out a confused hum in place of the awkward silence and put his book down again and set it to the side. Y/N’s fidgeting hands, his halting words, the thought behind his eyes, Minghao saw all of it and shuffled over to the edge of the bed and let his legs dangle.

“I… Uhm… Do you want me to hold you?” Minghao asked, his voice thin and high with uneasiness.

Y/N was trying to say something, talk about something that mattered to him, Minghao knew that for sure, yet he couldn’t quite place what Y/N was meaning. So Mingaho just tried to fill in the blanks, honest and unconditional and pragmatic as he always was during their discussions.

“This is kind of a weird way to ask me, if I’m being honest.”

Minghao’s words suspended themselves in the sunset streaming in through the windows and laid there to shimmer for a moment. Y/N felt their light and their sting as he let them settle in, and he felt something snapping as if he just couldn’t hold onto it anymore. He couldn’t just bite back his reservations or his whines for Minghao to hug him back, he couldn’t just deal with his insecurities of never being affectionate enough to warrant it back, or contemplate on what he was doing wrong whenever he was left to make the first move. Always being the one to embrace and always feeling Minghao look up at him, thinking about where his height left him constantly supporting and always on the outer edge, never small enough to fit on the inside.

Y/N didn’t care about what he was more hurt about, what he was more insecure about. All he knew was that he was irritated and resentful of a lot of things. Restraining it, telling himself how he felt didn’t matter wasn’t going to work this time.

“It’s not weird, okay?” Y/N’s voice was heated and severe, as if he was holding it in for so long it took less than a mere moment to boil over. He saw Minghao recoil slightly and could already sense him reflecting on his words, but he didn’t wait for him to come to any conclusion, and neither did the fires of his sudden frustration. “Just because you’re not insecure about your height or don’t need to go out of your way to ask for affection doesn’t make it weird, and it sure as hell doesn’t stop me from being conscious about it. It just makes me feel stupid for bringing it up in the first place…”

“Y/N- I… I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry.” Minghao reached out to take Y/N’s hands, and as he felt Y/N’s fingers tangled up in his, he realized how little he’s actually done this and how few times he’s ever been the one to reach out first for something that wasn’t to just bring Y/N’s arms around himself.

His guilt set in like a head rush, dropping in his stomach with the weight of all the days he was left on the receiving end of all Y/N’s boundless love and didn’t repay it across from pecks to the forehead on the way out the door.

“I know… It’s okay. I didn’t mean to snap at you, though, so I’m sorry…” Y/N said as Minghao pulled him in, held him by his face, and leaned in - rocking on his toes to meet Y/N’s lips - to kiss him.

“I didn’t mean to dismiss you, I just never thought you would be insecure about being tall or giving affection...” He shook his head in the curve of Y/N’s neck as he brought his lips down to his shoulders, all the adoration he’s never actually let Y/N feel now drenching Y/N’s skin and trickling down his spine in shivers and blissful sweetness.

“I’m not gonna go around crying about wearing ‘size thirteen Nikes’ or anything - you’re not gonna need to make a movie about my tribulations.”

They shared a chuckle between them as Minghao craned his neck to kiss Y/N’s forehead, thinking about how they both ironically and unironically watched Tall Girl the other day with Y/N wound around Minghao on their living room couch. Their jokes about Y/N finally getting some tall-person representation and their smiles that came afterward; Minghao now wondered if the sparks of that conversation made the burns of Y/N’s insecurities worse despite how bright and colourful his laughter against Minghao’s skin was. Minghao can still find the sunrise-tinted stains of Y/N’s breathless laughter on his skin, flashes back to some of their most cherished memories like the strings of polaroids hanging above their nightstand.

“I dunno… I know you love me. It’s just that sometimes I get insecure about the physical part, that’s all.” Y/N continued, playing anxiously with Minghao’s hands as they were draped between them. “I think about how often I give affection and how often I make the first move in general… I just want to know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of it.”

“Oh, Y/N…”

Minghao loves physical affection - especially Y/N’s physical affection - however, he was a little more partial to other forms of affection. He always preferred to show his love and adoration through words, in gifts or acts of service, things he could do that lasted for longer than those singular moments of endlessness that were the hugs and kisses they shared.

However, what he was overly partial to was hurting Y/N to an extent, and he couldn’t just think about the way that only he loved anymore - he needed to stop thinking that way the moment they made things official as they hung on the fringes of Minghao’s bedsheets. He failed to consider Y/N, his boyfriend, the ways he showed his love, and the ways he wanted to be loved.

Minghao - as observant as he always thought himself to be - was ignorant to that until just now. It took too long for him to realize, and he could see the exhaustion and hurt in Y/N’s eyes, how insecure he truly was and how insecure Minghao let him be.

“I literally spelled out the definition of ‘first world problems’ didn’t I…?” Y/N moved to bury his face in his hands, but Minghao kept his grip tight and held their tied hands at their sides.

“No- Y/N.” Mighao gave one more reassuring squeeze to Y/N’s fingers. “I get it, it’s exhausting sometimes to constantly be giving affection and not receive it - it starts to feel like you might be doing something wrong, which you’re not! Not at all! You’re doing everything so right, and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel otherwise.” Minghao let his gaze fall to the ground with a soft sigh, all his disappointment in himself weighing down on him, leaving Y/N to bring his eyes back up with a nudge to his chin. “I’m really sorry I haven’t been more observant about your feelings. I want you to feel all the love I have for you, and to repay you in all the ways you make me feel like the only person in the world.”

For a while, there was no response, and Minghao’s words were left to linger in the air until Y/N suddenly sent them collapsing on the bed behind them. With a chuckle into Y/N’s neck, Minghao was sent sprawling, his arms and legs instantly, almost on this instinct he never acted on until now, wrapped around Y/N as he melted and unravelled in Minghao’s embrace. A sigh of relief pooled on Minghao’s chest as Y/N buried it in his skin, and Minghao couldn’t help but shine a grin as he found gleeful shimmers dancing happily in Y/N’s eyes.

“Thank you, Hao, for understanding… I just didn’t know how to bring it up without feeling superficial and stupid.” Y/N shuffled around in Minghao’s arms for a minute, he needed to get used to these sensations; the feeling of arms curling around him, of feeling free to bury his smiles in Minghao’s neck, and of feeling Minghao’s touch plunge beneath his sweatshirt and paint his skin with the colours of the sunset taken between them. Falling victim to Minghao’s hands as he treasured Y/N’s silhouette, traced every sparkle of copper sunlight as it spilled down on them through their windows, it was paradise.

Y/N understood why Minghao never wanted Y/N to let go.

“I love you…” Y/N’s words were soft and tender, as rich as the honey that dyed quiet skies of evenings on hilltops and fields that stretched until the skyline swallowed them up, but as delicate as the lavenders they’d pluck from the ground and tuck behind their ears as they laid side by side on the grass. Their declarations of love were usually silent, there was a time where they’d always let the whispers between the trees or the silence of the night to do the talking for them, but saying it out loud - taking Minghao’s face in his hands and letting those words hang from their lips until they tied them together with their tongues, that was a different kind of bliss.

“I love you too, baby. And it’s not stupid, I’m glad you came to me about it even if I didn’t do the best job at listening.” Minghao traced the shadows sketched into Y/N’s figure with his fingers, and giggled as Y/N flinched back with a chuckle. He kept a hand on Y/N’s waist to hold him still, though, and forced Y/N to withstand his torment of soft, tentative caresses against his skin. With every second he touched Y/N, held him in his arms, the more he regretted not knowing about all of this earlier, and not truly recognizing how much Y/N was giving, how much he was taking or expecting, and how much he wasn’t giving back.

He thought back to how anxious and tense Y/N looked as he struggled to bring this up, all the apprehension wound up in him that was palpable by the time Minghao made it to the edge of the bed to hear him out. The last thing Minghao ever wanted Y/N to feel was a hesitance to communicate about things that matter to him - whether they were about their relationship or his work or his school or anything else. Minghao was supposed to be Y/N’s safe space, his place of refuge from the outside world - he was to protect Y/N as much as Y/N protected him.

“I never want you to feel like you can’t bring things up if they bother you - if you can’t say them right, then say them wrong, because I don’t wanna live a life where we don’t feel safe with each other.”

Y/N propped himself up on his hands to look Minghao in the eye, ripples of ivory sheets pooling around him and where they remained with Minghao pushed into the sheets, grasping at Y/N’s waist, with a brilliant smile plastered on his face. Although they were always so candid with each other, Y/N still found himself taken aback by all their conversations that bore more weight on the air. He felt so much relief and comfort, and hearing Minghao say all of these things left him with no room to speak. “Alright…”

“So say all the stupid shit that pops into your mind, I’ll always be listening, baby - I promise I’ll listen better…” Minghao kneaded his hands into Y/N’s waist and hips and thighs as he spoke. This wasn’t going to be a place of barred up feelings and reservations bitten back so many times they have no choice but to boil over, both Y/N and Minghao were going to make sure of that.

“I’ll promise to listen better, too.” Y/N caught Minghao’s hands and then gently pressed them into the bed, above Minghao’s head. He leaned in and met Minghao’s grin halfway, interlacing their fingers as Minghao eased his tongue between Y/N’s teeth and struggled with a feeble laugh against Y/N’s hands. They both knew that Minghao would stay like this forever, though, under Y/N's hands in the same place their sunrises ended and sunsets began - Minghao never wanted to leave, and neither did Y/N. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for telling you that I’ll do better to accommodate your stresses. Now that’s a little weird…” Minghao squeezed one of Y/N’s hands, a request to let go for a second, and reached up to pinch at Y/N’s cheek with an arched eyebrow before bringing Y/N’s hand back into his once more. “I should’ve been doing that from the start, and I should’ve seen it. Affection is such a beautiful language and I didn’t listen to you when you spoke it. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay…” Y/N heard himself whining now; because as much as he appreciated Minghao’s apologies, he didn’t want Minghao to beat himself up for it. They reached a resolution, and Y/N couldn’t be happier.

“Thank you for forgiving me, but I’m still going to make it up to you.” Minghao jerked up against Y/N’s hands to peck Y/N on the cheek, and with another shove and a swing of his hips, he turned them over with a triumphant laugh as he shoved Y/N down into the sheets. He rushed to straddle Y/N’s waist and hold him down by his wrists, caressing them with his thumbs and taking in Y/N’s shock and defeated pout, and revelling in the way Y/N surrendered under the weight of Minghao’s hips on his. “So is there anything you want for dinner?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at their sudden departure from everything they just talked about.

“I… Uh…” He stumbled over his words as he struggled against Minghao’s hands. There was this comfort that settled under the surface of his skin as Minghao let go of Y/N’s hands to hold him by the curves of his neck and pulled him in, kissed him, then ran his hands down Y/N’s body. And as they pulled back, there was this luster of adoration in Minghao’s eyes as he looked down at Y/N. Y/N felt a warm flush seep into him, just like the blush that always bloomed on Minghao’s cheeks whenever he looked at him in that exact same way. “Are you even hungry?”

“Not really, I already have my full course meal under me anyway.”

Minghao froze after he finished, eyes widening and already dreading the wide grin that began to quickly bloom on Y/N’s lips. A furious and deep flush flooded Minghao’s cheeks and neck and burned to the touch as Y/N rushed up to hold Minghao by his cheeks, scarlet flames lapping at Y/N’s hands as Minghao’s blush only seethed through his skin even more among their silence. Y/N revelled in it and the instant regret that he could tell stirred in Minghao’s mind and thought that the treachery and sacrilege that was Minghao’s ‘joke’ was the best thing he has ever experienced since their first kiss.

“I… I don’t know where that came from-”

Y/N cut him off by taking a handful of his sweater and tying their lips together, an eager grin shaping the sparks between them as he felt Minghao fall into his gravity, pull himself in, careen further and further into the cosmos that Y/N’s kisses sent him reeling into. “I’ll never let you forget that you said that…”

“Fuck.” Minghao groaned into Y/N’s mouth before pulling back to catch his breath, the breath that Y/N always manages to steal from him. With the way they fell into each other, when their touches eclipse and the world loses its light for those moments they lay in each other’s, Minghao wonders how the world managed to govern itself without that center of gravity that was formed the moment they held hands in the park for the first time. Y/N always made Minghao feel as if he were the only star in the sky, and Y/N was Minghao’s entire world, the only thing that Minghao will ever find himself revolving around.

There was a time when they didn’t know each other, a time when the sunlight didn’t have its place to settle in between their chests on or the tips of their tongues before they would close the spaces in an instant. They have a hard time realizing it now, that they existed before each other, and they existed before Minghao gave as much as he received.

“You know what? I won't take it back, bitch!”

Y/N cocked his head at Minghao’s declaration with a smirk before sweeping Minghao’s weight from under him and flipping them over again, taking Minghao down and watching how the sunlight traced Minghao’s smile, and how his laughter bent its copper glow to the will of their bliss. He leaned in closer and closer, and Minghao pulled Y/N in closer and closer.

Lingering just before Minghao’s already parting mouth, the faintness of the sunset’s burnt sugar on the edge of their lips was just in reach. Minghao’s desperate fistful of Y/N’s sweatshirt was the only thing between Y/N and taking another night between their hands and chests and lips and lovestruck stares. “I won’t take this back either, then.”

Y/N always wanted to feel safe to fall, and now, with Minghao’s touch wound around him with no hesitation, no doubt or consciousness, he can already feel himself slipping. And he can already sense Minghao opening his arms to catch him.

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