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(I am) not the only traveller

Excerpt: “The first time you saw me wasn’t the first time I saw you.”

Draft:

Seungyoun remembers the first time he’d seen him. He had been way younger then but he had looked the same—This man.

They were at school then. And Seungyoun skipped class for the first time that day.

Slipping away from French class to run freely in the halls, tracing round the many gilded pillars. High end boarding schools could be such a pain sometimes. But he had his friends here.

He remembers chasing and hiding and chasing, one pillar to the next to the next to the next and suddenly he was face to face with him.

This Man was so.. this man, the first time he saw him. The same charming, almost evil, almost deranged but not quite smile splitting his face. He beckons to Seungyoun.

The first time he saw him, This Man seemed equally as startled to see him. Like he was waiting for something but he didn’t know what, that it took him by surprise even if he was looking for it.

Seungyoun can never forget the first moment. A raw emotion flashed across This Man’s face, so quick that if Seungyoun wasn’t so ardent on remembering this he would think it never happened. He schooled his expression back quickly enough.

This Man had only said a single word then.

“Hello.”

His hands reaching out and pulling back. A restrained action. A familiar gesture.

It’s not until the encounter is over that Seungyoun realises This Man looked like him. He doesn’t know what that means.

EOEO :

Three months later, he opens his eyes and everything’s off. He’s not in school, but they’re still with him. His friends—he asks them what happened to no answer. They ask him what he’s talking about. Seungyoun keeps quiet.

It’s not until 6 months later that he sees This Man. 9 months since his entire life was uprooted. He still feels slightly out of place like a audio synced with a delay. A song off beat just by a second. He feels frail.
Like he’s only person who doesn’t belong. Like they weren’t in a French boarding school just a few months ago. Where was this place. This dark dingy underground garage, neon painted splattered his clothes, marred on his face like war paint—something dangerous and rebellious and violent in his blood.

Hm. No, this won’t do. You can’t be here long.

you’re too soft.

They had angered him.
When had he become the owner of such anger?

POOL:

Hello. He says.

This man smiles. His grin smug and full of teeth. like something sharp.

Somehow Seungyoun isn’t afraid.

"Do you know her name?" He asks

Shouldn’t you? This man asks. Still smiling with his teeth.

“I don’t know remember her name.”

“Then she’s not important enough to remember.”

“Do you remember mine.”

His grin fades a little when Seungyoun hesitates.

“Cosmic.”

And there it is. This has less teeth. It’s softer.

He takes his hat off.

“At your service.”

(unspecified)

“The first time you saw me wasn’t the first time I saw you.”

“When’s the first time you saw me?”

“If everything goes well…” Cosmic says,

"you’ll never have to know."

Seungyoun doesn’t probe. Just allows Cosmic to get back to lazily making out with him. This is so nice.

“I like your hair.” he hums.

“Thank you, Cosmic says.

“You maybe touch if you like…”

Grins.

“Pull it if you like.”

Seungyoun blushes.

“You’ll know.” Cosmic grins.

"It’s coming up soon."

Current Mood: apathetic
Current Location: at uni
Current Music: The Night We Met--Lord Horon

I hope you remember this (while your heart grows cold)

Notes: Weird little post disbandment ryeonseung canonverse timeline thingy i started all the way back in 2020, I'll probably never finish it--especially since a lot has happened since then, including changes in their rps (personas) so i just thought I'd post it)

Excerpt:
They meet. The world flourishes. Things break. Seungwoo enlists and the silence comes crashing down.

Draft :

They knew when their manager didn’t come to the dorm. And then the phone rang.

Dongpyo had been the most optimistic and Seungwoo can’t bear to look at him in the aftermath. Eunsang leaves, and Wooseok goes after him.

Seungyoun just stares there until Hangyul is suddenly there, something fierce and angry and painful in his gaze, pulls at Seungyoun, whispering carefully to him, coaxes him back to their shared room.

Yohan goes with Dongpyo and Seungwoo leaves Hyeongjun and Minhee to their own devices, knows it’s bad, knows also that he doesn’t have a single clue how to make any of this better. So he just leaves it.

And then Dohyon cries, and Seungwoo’s heart feels like someone poured a gallon of lead in it.

Seungwoo had been staring at the phone in his hand when it rang. When he picks up he can almost feel the nervous tick in Hanse’s voice, can feel the others gathered around him, except maybe Seungsik. Seungsik would wait for him to call, would have waited for him to be ready.
“So?” blurts out Hanse and it is so...Hanse in a way, fire and impatience and just the slightest undercurrent of hope and Seungwoo doesn’t know what to say, is still battling with this unknown emotion sitting so heavily at the bottom of his stomach. Still cannot name it.

“Yeah.. so they...uh...decided it would be best if...”

he doesn’t know why he pauses, loses track of time a little bit and is brought back when Hanse makes a tiny impatient noise—

“if we were to discontinue group activities...and disband.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t make it better. and the nameless emotion at the bottom of his stomach whirls catching up to his throat, making it close up.

There’s a collective release of breathe on the other end. Someone hushes someone. There’s some clatter before Hanse’s back again—“...Sorry to hear that...”

barely a pause before he starts again—
'but Hyung—'

his voice contains an excitement Seungwoo wishes he could feel, the rest of Hanse’s words drown in harsh rustling, there’s some minor commotion before Byungchan is on the phone and he says “Hyung, I really...really am so sorry, we should have waited for you to call us, the kids probably need you to right now...and you worked so hard for this...i can’t even imagine how you must be feeling....”

his words are muted, Seungwoo’s staring at the shelf opposite him and he thinks of how he’s never going to see it again. There’s a spot at the corner, the vertex in the right, where front meets side, it spills onto the side, dark brown stark against its lighter shade.

Thinks of how he didn’t have a room mate, thinks of how maybe he never really tried.

“.....ready. we’ll be there waiting for you. At home.”

and it brings Seungwoo back, sharp and jagged and grounding. He blinks. Hears Byungchan say that Subin’s fighting him for the phone now, his voice is brimming with laughter and it feels warm.

Subin’s on the phone now.

“Hyung, so it’s true then? You’re coming back home?”

And Seungwoo thinks in that instant that Subin is so so young but the people he’s been living with are even younger and the pain turns sharper, the weight overwhelming. But Subin’s voice is so familiar and he can hear the emotion in his voice and god he had missed them. So much.

“...uh yeah...Yes. I’m coming home, Subin-ah.”

Feels sharp panic spike through his spine when the door open right as he says those words and turns out to—

Seungyoun’s standing there in his grey hoodie, a towel bunched in his hands and his hair is wet and his hands are wet and his eyes are wet. His eyes are wet—

There’s an unreadable emotion on Seungyoun’s face. Time stills for an eternity where Seungwoo can feel that this one of those moments that’ll never really leave him, will plague his mind days, months, maybe even years after all this over.

A metaphorical clock strikes and everything resumes. Seungyoun turns around wordlessly and Seungwoo feels his mouth form his name, hears it voiced out. It feels like all the air collectively ran out of the room. Feels the air rush out of the room. Can still hear Subin on the other end, can hear their dorm, the sounds of his home he had proclaimed come in.

Seungyoun closes the door behind him and it is not cruel nor angry but it is firm. And Seungwoo’s mouth feels so incredibly dry.

He hangs up. Doesn’t pick up when the phone rings again. He sits there for the longest time and he doesn’t know what to do.

And it feels like something that’s been echoing in his head since the very first time he stepped foot in the spotlight. A familiar poison coaxing him back in their arms—failure. Once again, he is not enough.

Part two:

When he wakes up in the morning, Seungyoun is gone and he’s never seen Hangyul so dismayed.

Wonders if something happened

Part —something (context: seungyoun and seungwoo are having a conversation on the porch like a few days before they moving out of the shared dorms)

"But that’s the thing right, sometimes you can’t tell a good thing until it’s gone."

He pauses.

“Sometimes you can.”

he’s still not looking at Seungwoo and Seungwoo thinks he might not be looking at anything at all, lost in ruminiscence and faded years.

“4 years ago, 13th December, 2015 we just finished filming for the best friend mv and we were in the back of a car and shoot had just finished. As the lights dimmed and the cameras shut off and we were just lying on a heap by the campfire and it was so dark
He exahles.
“and yet so nice? you know...and Moonhan-ie hyung was lying on my lap and everyone was tired but so happy and we couldn’t wait for everything that was to come. And I don’t know why...in that moment, by the fading fire, I looked at the sky and felt like this would be the last time I would ever truly feel this way...feel happy.”

Seungwoo freezes.

Seungyoun’s still looking at this something in the distance which isn’t really anything at all and his small smile which is more bitter than it is anything else springs on his face and he says, so simply...

"And it was.”

Seungwoo doesn’t even know what to say, doesn’t think he can really say anything...that would help. So he just keeps quiet, allows him to go on.

“I blamed myself for so long. And so much...because I couldn’t make sense of it. I didn’t understand it. Why was this happening to us to me? why it felt like sometimes the whole world was against me. Like a cosmic force beating me into conceding. and then when I was at my worst…the company decided they wanted me on produce.”

“And I wasn’t...”

“I didn’t know what to expect, you know? I didn’t expect I would make it, but to be honest, that didn’t even matter—"the first few weeks I was just so…”,
a faint chuckle, more an happy exhale than anything breaks forth—"so very happy to be back on stage.”

“I know it’s stupid but do you ever feel afraid to love, Hyung?”

and Seungwoo feels breakable.

Seungyoun doesn’t wait for an answer.

And Seungwoo thinks silently that maybe he wasn’t asking after all.

“For the longest time I didn’t...I was so wary because I was so afraid because I thought it would go away. “

“And we debuted and the kids are so young and they make me so happy and just—living together with people…
that you shared a history with. And I realised I hadn’t felt the comfort that comes from being with people in so long, and I realised I didn’t remember a time I had laughed this hard. And it was terrible and scary but also precious, and I wanted so fiercely to hold onto that.”

“But I can’t.”

He turns and now he’s looking and Seungwoo doesn’t even know what to say because suddenly, Seungyoun is very much here and his eyes are so stark and he feels so much older and tired and Seungwoo doesn’t like it.
He’s looking straight at him, his gaze piercing and worn.

It tumbles out like impulse, ripped from his chest because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay...it’s not your fault. I’m glad you get to go back home, Hyung.”

“And I get to go back...I have to go back.”

Part something :

Hears his kkt ping. It’s from Seungyoun and Seungwoo doesn’t know whether to be glad or not.

There’s too words on there—“Hyung. Stop.”

three minutes pass before it pings again, And Seungwoo’s bleeding heart dries, dimples curving in as he sees the “But thank you...really.”

Tries to call him to call him to no avail.

Part Y :

He calls him over. Doesn’t tell him that he’s made this decision. Come to think of it, he hasn’t told anybody but then their groupchat has been drier than a desert of late, the occasional promotional messages popping up that Seungwoo’s almost a hundred percent sure the managers are behind.

Seungwoo misses them still, stubborn ache at the edges of his heart, the bottom of his stomach dulling at times but never going away. Never leaving.

Seungwoo’s always had a problem getting attached.

He’s in his studio when Seungyoun calls. And his voice is so frantic that Seungwoo thinks something is wrong, really _wrong_ for a minute and he’s about to run all the way to Cheongdam on his own two feet before what he’s saying finally registers—

‘—from the fans? You didn’t even tell me? You couldn’t even do that? For me? How could you?’

Wait.

‘What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you"—a sob stifled down,

‘You’re leaving? Now?’

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but Seungwoo lets out a small scoff at that, something sharp and cruel and he’s almost surprised by it, hears Seungyoun go quiet at the other end.

‘…Hyung?’

But Seungwoo is aching and he’s tired and god, hasn’t he given so much. And he needs to get this out—

‘Did you know this is the first time you’ve called me…since I don’t know a fucking year? More than that, actually, it’s been 15 months. 15 months of you and me and everything in between and you’ve never called once.’

‘Never asked. Never bothered. Seungyoun you come and you take and you take and you never let me in and you pretend like the entire thing never happened and that everything’s fucking sunshine and rainbows and we don’t fucking talk—

And Seungwoo wishes he didn’t sound so cruel and Seungwoo wishes Seungyoun wasn’t crying and he wishes for a lot of things but most of all, he wishes he could stop.

He doesn’t.

‘So yeah.’

‘Yeah, I didn’t tell you about the enlistment because I didn’t know if you would care.

Hears Seungyoun’s shuddering breaths through the phone and thinks if he’s finally done it, broken the last thing that was ever between them and wonders how he can live it.
And still he continues—

‘and the last time we talked about anything was on the porch after that stupid fucking disbandment and you just closed yourself after that and I never got you back. And I spent an eternity trying to get you back.'

It’s like a dam broke. The aftermath of a tragedy. It feels like something huge.

‘And I’m tired.’

‘So just…just for once. I need you to care—pretend to care, I don’t know, send me a giftcard, give me your best wishes and let me go. Please just...do that for me.’

A beat skips.

And then he hangs up. Seungyoun was still sniffling on the other end. He doesn’t know what was on the other end. Doesn’t know what might have been.

Seungwoo thinks if he let himself think about it he’ll just walk right off the fucking ledge into the ground below.

He feels so stretched thin that he’s half tempted to just knock himself out.

He goes to the roof. To think. He’s fucked everything up. Again.

Typical. And now he’s leaving.

Again.

When all he ever wanted to do was love.

Current Mood: depressed
Current Location: at uni
Current Music: Memories--Woodz and See you again--Seungwoo

Orbit

(tags: wenyoun, wenhan centric, funny then sad then sadder then sadder u get it)

2015--March

Seungyoun’s being weird. It makes Wenhan’s hair rise. He’s pretty sure this is some kind of very elaborate prank and he’s also sure that Yibo’s in on it. Well, less sure about that but that’s not gonna stop him from hounding him. Like he’s always weird, don’t get him wrong but he’s being a special brand of weird that Wenhan had never before seen from him. He’s being nice. Surprisingly. uncharacteristically nice and Wenhan is very concerned.

It had all started a few months when Seungyoun made him that malatang. Which in itself was suspicious, because first of all Seungyoun doesn’t know how to cook and even by some chance he did he Doesn’t cook. And he certainly doesn’t cook for them, after all why would he forfeit his wonderful position as second maknae and do work when he could get away with doing none. It didn’t make sense.

So Wenhan doesn’t touch it. Of course, he doesn’t, it had to be a prank, the malatang was probably chock full of salt…or sugar...or maybe it was very wonderfully made expensive slime in the shape of malatang. Wenhan is not keen to find out. But Seungyoun’s looking at him stubborn and…cute ? His eyes big and pleading. Not that they were affecting Wenhan in the least, please. He was very immune.

But after multiple failed attempts spread over 2 full hours at getting even a spoonful of that very suspicious malatang into Wenhan’s mouth, Seungyoun had whined, groaned and subsequently gone red in the face and finally stormed into his and Yibo’s shared room.

It’s five minutes later that Yibo comes out, looking bored, Seungyoun trailing behind him, his head hung a little low.

“Tell him.” Seungyoun whines, a little exasperated.

“It’s fine. I’ve tasted it, it’s not a prank, and it’s not even bad, it’s actually decent.” Yibo speaks lazily, drawling in Chinese.

Wenhan narrows his eyes at him.

Yibo sighs. “I’m vouching for him. Just…eat the damn thing will you.”

Wenhan can see Seungyoun getting impatient behind him.

He finally gives up. What the hell. It’s not like this would kill him…hopefully. And either way yibo owed him if it was a prank and that . was very a coveted thing.

He takes a sip.

Holy cow.

What the hell.

He looks up. The malatang has since gone a little cold but there’s no doubt about it. It’s good. It’s…really fucking good, what the hell.

“You made this??” He chokes out wo h difficulty after a few seconds.

“…Yeah.” Seungyoun’s face sours. “Is it that bad.” He asks, scowling.

“huh? what” Wenhan mumbles unintelligently. Yibo sighs.
“No! what ? It’s really…It’s good. Really good actually?? Why...?”

Seungyoun beams at him. Looking genuinely touched. It lasts for a few seconds before his face turns into a smug grin.
“Told you! Your fault for making a fuss for two hours you giant baby.”

And that was the second thing. It was actually good! Seungyoun’s (not) prank malatang was actually tasty as hell. Not completely like the one he missed back at home of course but not bad for a beginner. Not bad at all.

He’s still staring at Seungyoun in surprise when Seungyoun comes forward and takes it from him.

“Wha—?”
“Let me heat it up. I know it must be cold by now.”

and THAT.
Wenhan stares at him like Seungyoun’s grown a second head.

Yibo rolls his eyes.

Okay enough with the diplomacy.

“Why are you being so nice?” he asks, straightforward.

Seungyoun’s eyes widen and then he carefully neutralizes his expression.
“What. What are you talking about.”

“This ??? making me malatang ?? when do you ever make malatang ?? when did you even learn how to cook?”

“I know !?.? I know how to cook??” Seungyoun sputters.
“Not my fault you don’t know anything about me.” He huffs.

“No. Trust me, I’m grateful i’m just?? i’m surprised? I thought it was a prank ??”

Wenhan suddenly gets smug.

“Hmmm am I getting special treatment now, little leo?”

Seungyoun’s cheeks flush suddenly and he hurries off.

He comes back with the pot steaming and looking mightily pleased with himself.

Wenhan grins. That was nice of Seungyoun! He hadn’t even retorted to that. Maybe he’ll treat him later, maybe even buy him something.

He fills his bowl with abundance. takes a huge spoonful into his mouth and—

It’s so horribly salty it would put the sea to shame.

His face blanches. And he almost spits it out into the bowl before remembering to rush off to the sink.

He can hear Seungyoun’s raucous laughter behind him, loud and high pitched.

He knew he shouldn’t have trusted him.
“Ha! special treatment my ass.”
Seungyoun sneers at him across the table as he comes back, his face fuming and then he runs off.
Wenhan at his heels.

Wenhan doesn’t manage to catch him. Because Seungyoun is a menace and the devil’s prodigal son in disguise. And also because he’d been a fucking soccer player. And a good one at that.

Wenhan gives up 30 mins in and retreats to his room, now he has a bad taste in his mouth AND he’s sweaty.

He hopes Seungyoun loses all of his laundry and has to wear dirty underwear for a month.

He emerges from his room 20 minutes later only to find Seungyoun and Yibo standing by that atrocious pot of malatang.

Wenhan hides behind a wall. Gleefully thinking about tackling Seungyoun from behind.

And then he notices.

Seungyoun’s staring at that nightmarish pot forlornly, as if genuinely pained by its waste.

He sighs heavily. Then starts whining.

“It had taken so looong too.”

Yibo stares at him.

“Why did you do that.” He asks, sounding a little calm for the situation but then given Yibo, this was probably akin to shouting for him.

“Why did he have to say that ??” Seungyoun replies back, childish and petty. It almost makes Wenhan laugh.

And also confuses him, what the hell were they talking about.

“Was he wrong?” Yibo asks, his gaze careful.

“Shut up!” Seungyoun whisper yells.
“He might hear you !!”

Yibo rolls his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Seungyoun waves him away, his mouth morphing into a perfect downward curve. It’s a little cute.
“Let’s just go back to the lair, I’ll tell you more.”

Yes. They called their room the lair, like they were a stupid superhero duo. Children. That’s what they were and they called Wenhan childish! The audacity.

And then they leave and Wenhan is so busy thinking about what happened that he doesn’t even get to tackle Seungyoun. And isn’t that a shame.

And that wasn’t the only time! If it were, Wenhan would probably brush it away as Seungyoun being temperamental—you know how kids are.

But the repeated incidents…something was definitely up. There was that time Seungyoun destroyed all of his laundry, (he put it in the machine without separating the colours) but when confronted, sheepishly admitted to wanting to wash it?
And Wenhan for the life for him, could not figure out why the hell Seungyoun would want to wash his clothes.
He had given Wenhan a very nice pair of shoes (one that he’d been wanting for a while actually) the next day as compensation though. Which was nice…still suspicious. But nice, regardless.

Then there were the flowers…which Wenhan was allergic to. And then there was the cat that Seungyoun was allergic to. Man…Wenhan had been quite sad about giving daiyu away, but you can’t sacrifice a group member for a pet (apparently). And why had Seungyoun even gotten it in the first place—and see! This! This—all of this was weird. And...not-Seungyoun. And all these not-seungyounisms were making Wenhan very suspicious and sufficiently concerned.
Given Seungyoun’s proclivity for chaos and disaster, he might end up setting their dorm on fire the next time he tried to do something nice, so he had to nip this in the bud. Or the stem…considering it’d been a good few weeks since Seungyoun had started his non-seungyounisms.

December 2015

He’s looking up at the sky when he feels Seungyoun grip his fingers tight, they’re not even holding hands properly, he’s just clasped Wenhan’s last two fingers with with his hand.

He turns to look at him. Seungyoun looks a little white, an uncomfortable expression on his face. And that’s weird. It’s so weird because he was so happy right now, they were all so happy. It’s a happy day.

“What happened.” He probes, because he’s not cautious like that. Because he doesn’t want to be, Seungyoun would tell him anyway.

“Hm?”
Seungyoun turns. Nothing.

A second passes.

“I feel weird.”

Wenhan turns towards him some more. Seungyoun’s turned his head back up. He’s looking at the sky. Wenhan looks at him. At his bright eyes.
“Just—idk, weird. Like…final or something.”

He fidgets, his voice carrying almost a hint of exasperation, agitation like there are feelings—emotions he can’t put into words.

Wenhan tries.

“Huh? What do you mean.”

And Seungyoun sighs. Wenhan also sighs. Inwardly that is, he wishes he were more eloquent or helpful or even sympathetic. He wants to help he just—he doesn’t know how.

Seungyoun opens his mouth then closes it before opening it again.

“Like i don’t know—it feels like…it feels like all of this is gonna go away. like…It’s weird it’s just weird i don’t know i feel weird i don’t like it.”

He closes his eyes as if trying to calm himself.

And then he mutters something else.

Wenhan almost catches it but he doesn’t. He wonders if things would have been different if he had. He catches the words “last time” and “happy.”

Wenhan’s eyes are wide open and gaping.

He laughs awkwardly at first.

“What-? What the hell are you talking about?”
And Seungyoun sighs. Just lays there. His face still a little white.

And Wenhan decides to do something then.

He leans forward and grabs his chin, feels Seungyoun’s breath stutter.

Wenhan says, serious, “Seungyoun-ah…as long as we’re here. As long as I’m here, I promise nothing is going to happen. We’re just starting out. It’s okay. Everything is okay. Everything will be just fine. And even if it’s not. Even if somehow we all become ugly overnight and our next five comebacks fail miserably and we have a terrible career—Seungyoun gasps at that, “Don’t say that !”

And Wenhan speaks over him, “The chances of which happening are slim to none,
(“how can you be so confident, Hyung…”)

—“but EVEN THEN…even if that happens. We’ll be together. You know that, right? We’ll always always be together.”

Seungyoun laughs. Something pulled from him. Sudden almost as if it were a gasp.

“Seungyoun-ah.” Wenhan laughs.

“Even if everything goes to shit. We’ll always be together. And as long as we’re together, we’ll always be happy. We won’t go away.”

“You’re stuck with us forever.”

Is that enough?

And Seungyoun turns to smile at him. It’s a little weak and his eyes are a little too shiny but it’s a good start.

“Hm. It’s more than enough. It’s all I ever want.”

And Wenhan feels funny. Choked up and emotional and he doesn’t really want to do this right now, not to mention he’d probably filled almost a year’s quota on being wise and insightful and serious so he just jabs Seungyoun’s side with his elbow tells him to shut up and look at the stars.

Seungyoun yelps and jabs him back. But obeys. When Wenhan glances at him a few minutes later he’s smiling.

It’s radiant.

2016-17

And then everything goes to shit.

2018

“Hey…”

He’s just sitting there, just sitting with the lampshade off in the dull warm ochre of the room. His hair makes him seem like a shadow. Seungyoun can make himself so small when he wishes. He’s sitting crouched and the television is on, but he’s not looking at it.
Wenhan suddenly feels very out of depth. He doesn’t know what to do.

Seungyoun turns. His red beanie sitting loosely on his head. Wenhan feels a strange urge to take it off. He hasn’t been one to question his impulses so he does just that. And it’s not rushed, or mischievous, not an action meant to provoke, it’s very gentle and Seungyoun closes his eyes when Wenhan raises it off his head. When he opens them again, they’re shinier.

“Is everything okay?”

He looks so tired. Like...truly tired. Not…good tired. Not the kind of tired you get after laughing until your stomach hurts, or staying out until the peak hours of the night, or a hard day’s work, he just seems…tired. Tired like he didn’t want to be here anymore.
Seungyoun laughs. A joyless sound. Wenhan almost flinches. He doesn’t like this.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“And what then? So what, what are you gonna do? Can you fix this? Can you fix anything?”

And Wenhan physically recoils, taken aback by his anger, he wasn’t even being particularly loud but his words were so—

“Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong?? All you do is sulk around all day like—”

“You know what’s wrong! You know. You have to know. And I’m trying...I’m trying so hard, can’t you see that? I’m always trying—"

Tears leak out and meld into his face, barely visible in the darkness of the room and Wenhan wouldn’t have noticed them at all if Seungyoun’s voice hadn’t broken. Seungyoun puts his head in his hands and breathes shakily and Wenhan stares in despair.

“Seungyoun...”

And then Seungyoun kisses him. It is feverish and tired and Wenhan understands that he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to talk. God knows it hasn’t been the easiest for him. And it’s convenient and Wenhan couldn’t have refused this anyway.
He knows this isn’t the best way to deal with this, and he knows they should talk. They need to talk, but he hasn’t been the best

It’s nice having sex with Seungyoun. He’s responsive and makes a lot of noises, high pitched breathy ones that makes the bottom of Wenhan’s stomach feel like jello. And sometimes he’s pliant, less bratty, let’s Wenhan take care of him instead of fighting it. Wenhan likes those days. Seungyoun’s like that today, but he’s hiding. It takes away the satisfaction of it. How can you hide when you’re laid so bare in front of me, when you’re giving away so beautifully to me and I still don’t know what you’re thinking. Why won’t you ever say anything anymore?

It’s after they’re done and lying side by side. Seungyoun’s head tucked under his, firm on his chest that Seungyoun speaks. He’s taller than him but Seungyoun likes being taken care of, and Wenhan has withheld comfort from him for far too long.

“Hyung.”

“Mn.” He looks at him and Seungyoun rolls out, lies a little further away. Wenhan let’s him.

There’s a hint of guilt colouring his words when he says, “I slept with Yibo yesterday.”

And Wenhan can almost feel Seungyoun’s conflict. minute expressions flitting across his face. He’s still not looking at Wenhan. It’s not wrong. It’s not as if we’re exclusive. You used to do it with Sungjoo. What does this even mean—

Wenhan decides to put him out of his misery.
“I know. It’s okay, Seungyoun-ah.”

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t know what to say. And Seungyoun doesn’t push.
Wenhan’s thankful.

For all of his goofing around and in adeptness, Wenhan is surprisingly perceptible when he can be. He used to be an athlete and it hasn’t been the easiest journey. He left everything for this. And it has yet to reward him.

2019--July

Wenhan watches him climb up those stairs, he hears the crowd cheer for him and he sees all the trainees give him a standing ovation, he sees him sit on the plush cushion that says 5 and then finally, finally he breathes. And then he cries. He doesn’t call up Yixuan ge, or Yibo or even Sungjoo. And he doesn’t call up Seungyoun most of all because he wants him to forget. Needs him to forget. And everything was going to be okay.

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: Uniq--luv again

Okay, I don't really now what to put for first post, so I'm just gonna introduce myself--hello! I really wanted nangmandans because a) very pretty b) very significant. But I seem to have gotten attached to this user.

my ult of ults is woodz/ cho seungyoun, and I stan pretty much nobody else (not for a lack of trying !), i have tried extremely unsuccessfully to move on from x1 but I believe they were supposed to be my one and only band for life (wand metaphor from harry potter and ykw if this makes me crazy so be it)--so most of my tinhat/ posts r going to be about either pdx/ x1 or post x1 dynamics as well as sy drafts because i have never been able to complete a fic for the life of me.

Apart from that if this introduction makes me seem hostile i really am not i am maybe as intimidating as a medium sized shrub and i would love to meet new people on here ^_^ i also used to be an nctzen for quite some time (2018-2020) if that counts for anything..that should be all :)

--aya

Current Mood: crazy
Current Music: honey sweet--the blossoms