Devil May Cry- The Weeknd

When he’s drunk, it’s warm enough to pretend he can forget but cold enough to know he’s still alive.

The smell of cheap perfume and alcohol dull Sunwoo’s senses as soon as he’s jostled into the club, Jinyoung’s arm thrown around his shoulders, his laughter barely audible over the loud music pounding in the semi darkness. The multicoloured, flashing club lights are familiar in a painful sort of way, and the soju he’d consumed at the restaurant turns over in his stomach as they thread through the endless sea of dancing bodies.

“Just a dinner with the guys,” Jinyoung had promised him, just like old times. And though it had been exactly like how it’d been before, Sunwoo could feel the tension in the atmosphere, how everyone was laughing a little louder, deliberately keeping certain topics out of their discussion, how all of them knew and were taking pains not to mention it. It was appreciated, really, and Sunwoo hadn’t been expecting something more.

Besides, Junghwan had been all they could ask about when they were dating. 

Jiho’s ahead, leading them to one of the larger booths near the back, already waving over one of the waitresses standing by the bar with a cheeky grin, a brunette by the name of Sunyoung who’d served them all the time when Sunwoo had been with them, and an odd sensation washes over Sunwoo as he slides into his old seat, between Jinyoung and Yukwon, and hears Jiho rattle his usual order to the waitress.

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while,” Sunyoung notices him with a smile, and he half-nods, half-shrugs in return. “Still as quiet as ever, I see.”

“He’s been on hiatus for some time, but he’s back for now,” Jinyoung claps him on the back, flashing his lopsided grin at the waitress, who rolls her eyes at him.

“You, I’ve seen enough of you,” she says with mock disgust, and the table roars with laughter, as Jinyoung pretends to look offended.

“What about all those tips? I only go the extra mile for the special people in my life, you know,” he raises an eyebrow at her.

“Take that down, people, he’s paying for the first round,” she says to the table in response, before walking off, while Jinyoung pouts.

Sunwoo fidgets with a stray thread in his jeans as the conversation from the restaurant continues. They talk about football, Jaehyo asks him how the season is coming along, and he replies mostly in one or two word sentences. When the conversation tapers off with his listless response, the stab of guilt that follows makes him look up with a weak smile- after all, they are kind of doing this for him, and he’s being an by repaying them like this.

Halfway through the debate about conspiracy theories regarding their professors, however, Sunwoo’s mind strays off to the music playing at the moment, a slower, smoother number than the usual dance favourites that played at this club.

“You like this kind of music?” Junghwan’s voice was critical, and Sunwoo could imagine him, nose wrinkled and face scrunched up at the foreign rap music Sunwoo was playing on his iPod. “It’s so harsh.”

“You don’t have to listen if you have a problem with it,” Sunwoo replied with his eyes still closed, arms folded.

There was the creak of the mattress as Junghwan got off the bed, and Sunwoo cracked open one eye to see him taking his own iPod out, and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll listen your music when I want to sleep, I’m sure it’ll be effective,” he muttered, shifting his weight on the mattress as Junghwan bounced on again. His eyes flew open, however, as Junghwan tugged out the jack on his phone and stuffed it into his own.

“Hey!” he said, annoyed, but Junghwan had taken away his phone and was searching for a comfortable seat beside him on the mattress.

“Give me one of those,” Sunwoo recoiled slightly as Junghwan reached across him to steal his earbud. “Now let’s listen to some music I like for once.”

Sunwoo grumbled but made no move to stop him as Junghwan browsed through his library to find a song. He rolled his eyes at the piano intro that played once he selected a song, but couldn’t help but be interested at the turn that the music took.

It had a relaxed feel to it, but wasn’t exactly slow- it seemed to roll and wash over him, and the melody that followed made Sunwoo feel like there was a tragedy in the artist’s love he couldn’t really see, but could feel all around.

Junghwan balanced his textbook on his lap, head leaning on Sunwoo’s shoulder as he read lazily.

“Told you so,” he said, the hint of cheekiness in his voice not missed by Sunwoo, who elbowed him in the pretence of finding a more comfortable sitting position.

“Alright, but this is one song,” he said. Junghwan crowed in victory then, but all Sunwoo could see was how adorable it was when his eyes would vanish when he smiled.

Sunwoo blinks, forcibly extinguishing the memory as he sits up a little straighter, automatically lifting the mug in front of him and downing half of it in one go. The bitter liquid warms the sudden iciness that had frozen his chest over, and the neon pink and blue lights wink at him comfortingly from the ceiling.  

Jinyoung’s voice grabs his attention as usual, he’s boasting about the car his dad promised him once he made it out of college and Taeil is rolling his eyes across the table, and Sunwoo feels the urge to leave, almost, when Jihoon starts on his own bragging spree. He’s just getting into the thick of it when Sunwoo feels the seat vibrate, and Jinyoung immediately shushes the entire table loudly before pulling his phone out.

Something unpleasant stirs in Sunwoo as the rest of them snigger once they figure out who it is- it’s stupid to feel jealous, or even upset, but the five of them are so close that the guilt, the memories that hit make him stagger. After Jinyoung and Chansik got together, wherever Sunwoo and Junghwan were, Jinyoung and Chansik would probably be, dragging a harassed and annoyed Dongwoo along, and that became a routine Sunwoo had allowed himself to sink into, to become comfortable with.

He’d made many mistakes in his life, but that had taken the cake.

“Channie-ah,” his voice goes down a considerable number of notches, and Jiho does an exaggerated impression of him, eyelids fluttering. Jinyoung flips him the bird before replying.

“Yeah, we decided to go downtown for a while,” Jinyoung leans away, shooting Jiho a venomous glare as he starts trying to imitate Chansik instead. “Ye-…no, Channie, I’m with Sunwoo, it’s-…”

Jinyoung edges out of the booth then, and Kyung deftly changes the subject, moving onto gossip about one of the seniors who was allegedly peddling sticks of under popcorn cups, but not before Sunwoo hears Jinyoung urgently whisper, “it’s about Junghwan.”

Sunwoo’s grip tightens around the handle of the mug, lifting it to his lips once more as though in to spite it, to spite him, to wash all of his sorrows away with every single bad habit he’d got him to erase. The stupidity of it had yet to hit him (he was intoxicated, after all) but it had descended now into a sense of resignation, how helpless he was to do anything but try to forget.

I hate you, Lee Junghwan, he returns the now empty cup to the table with a dull thunk. I hate you so much.

Like most of Sunwoo’s life, their separation had been messy, violent, like they’d been ripped apart so forcefully that Sunwoo still felt raw, pained, threads from the fabric that had once bound them so closely now hanging loose from the fraying edges of his soul. All the promises, the plans, the hopes still hang in the back of his mind, oblivious, all still expecting to be fulfilled. Sunwoo can’t count the number of times he’d taken out his phone to text Junghwan, only to remember that he’d torn himself out of Sunwoo’s life and would probably never be coming back.

It’s like Sunwoo’s stuck, still forced to go through the same motions, the same feelings, even when he knows Junghwan had stopped a long time ago.

It’s stupid really, because while Sunwoo had always been the cautious one, Junghwan had always been the one talking about how they needed to take it slow, how those that “loved moderately loved long”, he’d quote with a cheeky grin because he’d know that Sunwoo had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, and Sunwoo would glare and Junghwan would make some comment about “uncultured” and-…

. He’s doing it again.

Sunwoo forces more of the drink down his throat, more till the people outside the booth are nothing but a blur, more till the alcohol drowns out the sound of laughter in the thick air, more till he thinks, almost, that maybe he can forget.

But Junghwan had never been someone you could just forget.

Jiho leaves for the dance floor some time later that night, as per normal, Jihoon and Kyung following naturally, and they’re joined by Yukwon and Minhyuk after a while. The table grows quieter, just casual chat, and after his third round when Jinyoung doesn’t return, Sunwoo assumes sluggishly that he’s gone to join the rest.

“Alright guys, Jiho says we can head across the road to play pool or poker, what do you guys want?”

Sunwoo blinks, trying to focus on the moving shape in front of him- the flashing lights aren’t doing much to help his vision and is the world really rocking from side to side, or is it just him? Taeil says something but the words kind of tumble over each other in his head as Sunwoo slowly processes them- the alcohol is blurring out sounds now, and it’s burning hot and freezing at the same time so Sunwoo shifts his weight on the seat but the entire booth starts spinning fiercely once he pushes himself up, so he stops.

The next thing he knows, Jinyoung is looking questioningly at him.

“Whatever,” Sunwoo forces out, pulling himself up by the seat in an attempt to stand, and he feels Jinyoung grab him before he knows he’s falling.

“Not you, you’re coming back with me,” Sunwoo feels Jinyoung pull his arm around his shoulder, and start heading for the exit. “Geez, Sunwoo I did tell you not to get so drunk.”

“N-not…not going?” Sunwoo mumbles. The music feels too loud and inaudible at the same time, and the world feels like it’s tilting from one side to another. Sweat is beading on his forehead- his jacket feels hot and heavy all of a sudden, and the thickly perfumed air is stuffy, stale.

“Nah, I told Chansik I’d be back early tonight,” he hears a whoosh and feels the rush of the warm night air against his face. Again, Sunwoo’s gut clenches at the rush of memories that flood him as Jinyoung pulls open the car door.

He stumbles into the backseat, marvelling dryly at the effort it takes just to coordinate his legs to step in, before realising that Jinyoung’s not closing the car door. He stares blearily up at his hyung, noting, with some difficulty, the frown knitted into his eyebrows.

“You okay?”

Sunwoo nods numbly, feeling oddly childish as he does so, and Jinyoung sighs, before closing the door and heading to the front.

“It isn’t your fault, you know,” he says as he straps himself in, adjusting the rear view mirror, and Sunwoo flinches, but at the same time he feels a stab of relief, that someone was actually talking about it without trying to keep it from him or averting his eyes. The car’s silent for a while, Jinyoung unmoving, and Sunwoo waits, the hope stirring in the pit of his stomach, hoping for him to tell him that Junghwan would come around, that things would be alright soon.

“You know sometimes people just aren’t right for one another. Then it isn’t anyone’s fault, and you just have to accept it and move on.”

“That what you used to tell your girlfriends when you broke up?” Sunwoo scoffs, trying to hide the disappointment that’s washing over him, hope vaporising at Jinyoung’s words.

“It’s what my first one told me,” Jinyoung shrugged, starting the engine.

Sunwoo can only offer a noncommittal grunt to that, but the words do nothing but stew in his mind on the way back. 

Sunwoo sits in the darkness alone, listening to the silence, to the sound of the air-conditioner whirring away. Jinyoung’s gone, gone to visit Chansik, gone to be happy in his own perfect relationship, and the room is silent. This would have been the time when Sunwoo would have picked up the phone, dialled Junghwan, asked him to come over because Jinyoung was being a douche and abandoning his best friend for his boyfriend, and Junghwan would coo and ask if the big baby was getting lonely, before hanging up and reappearing a few minutes later with a pack of microwaveable popcorn and a cheesy romance flick he could torment Sunwoo with.

The stupid wistfulness, the longing for things to just go back to the way they used to be, hits Sunwoo harder than usual this time, and maybe it’s because he’s alone, maybe it’s because he’s drunk, maybe it’s because he’s tired and he’s had enough of this, that he pushes himself off from the bed heavily, and leaves the room.

The route, through long corridors with identical doors, up and around stairwells, is familiar, even at night (especially at night) and on nights like this there would normally have been a handful of students going to the bathroom, teachers passing by, but tonight the floor is silent, like it’s waiting, watching him, holding its breath to see if he’ll do it. When he finally reaches the door, the one tucked away at the corner with the faded blue sticker on the top right corner, the one Sunwoo’s visited a hundred times in the darkness before, his legs are shaking, the strength in them almost gone. He grabs the knob, pounding a couple of times, leaning on the door for support, and his heart jolts at the sweet sound of Junghwan’s voice.

“Who is it?”

If there was any last chance to escape, to chicken out, this would’ve been it, but Sunwoo remains rooted to the ground beyond his will with bated breath, limbs heavy not just with alcohol but with anticipation, his heart sick with both worry and excitement. There’s the patter of footsteps, the click of the door, and Sunwoo stumbles forward as it opens.

The moment seems to freeze as Junghwan sees who it is, and if he’d made to close the door, Sunwoo never found out, because he almost falls onto Junghwan, pushing both of them further into the room.

“S-sunwoo? Shoot, you’re drunk,” Junghwan’s forced to grab the bedrail to keep from falling, and Sunwoo can’t help but marvel at how wonderful his voice sounds in his ear, and clutches the fabric at his shoulders, revelling in the close proximity he’d been deprived of for so long.

“Junghwan,” he says in a breathy laugh. “Junghwan, I love you, I love you, I love you so much-…”

“What are you doing here?” he feels himself being pushed backwards a little stronger this time, and looks up, smiling in spite of himself, in spite of the hostility in Junghwan’s eyes.

“I love you,” he repeats, the words coming out like he’s a broken record player, unable to do anything but spew out words of the past, words he wished he’d said when he’d needed to.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I miss you so much,” Sunwoo continues like he hasn’t heard him, the plea just starting to slip through in his voice. “I love you, Junghwan, I love you so much-…”

“Sunwoo,” Junghwan says firmly, though his voice trembles at the end of the word, and Sunwoo looks him in the eye, knees weak. Again, it’s the exasperation and emotion in his voice, shattering Sunwoo’s hopes, telling him he’s wrong, that Junghwan isn’t coming back, that he’s never coming back. “Look, we’ve been over this-it didn’t work out, okay, I can’t-…”

“That’s not true,” Sunwoo shakes his head, feeling like he’s seven all over again, arguing with his little sister over chores, stubborn and stupid, just like he’s being now.

“It wouldn’t have worked,” Sunwoo despises how sure Junghwan sounds, because what would he know, how would he even have a clue about what Sunwoo feels, but Junghwan’s dark eyes convey nothing else. “I should’ve known we were making a mistake from the start, Sunwoo. It’s just not possible.”

“Stop it,” Sunwoo says, his voice hollow, pain slowly beginning to throb at the back of his throat.

“No, Sunwoo,” Junghwan shakes his head. “Something like this would never work out, okay, I was wrong about-…”

“STOP IT!” Sunwoo pushes him, almost falling himself, angry tears spilling from his eyes. “I LOVE YOU STOP TELLING ME I’M WRONG!”

His words seem to echo in the highly strung silence, the words that had been sewn tightly into him that he’d never dared to say before, each word piercing through another one of the layers he’d built around himself from the inside, exposing his raw, messy emotions. Tears are glinting in the corners of Junghwan’s eyes, but that could just be the alcohol mixed with weeks of lies, failed attempts to forget everything about Junghwan, forget everything that had once convinced Sunwoo that there was hope in this world for someone like him.

“How am I supposed to know that, Sunwoo?” the helpless calm in Junghwan’s voice makes Sunwoo look up, defiance shining in his eyes. “How do I know you aren’t going to leave again?”

The hurt and regret that flashes through Sunwoo’s mind makes him grab Junghwan’s hands once more, breathy, desperate tone returning in his voice.

“Just give me one more chance.”

“That’s what they always say, isn’t it?” Junghwan’s looking at him with a sort of wistful sadness now, an expression that both unsettles and gives him hope. “Then one day you’re going to realise how tired you are of me and you’re going to pick yourself up right out of my life and leave, aren’t you?

“So are you going to do it to me first?” Sunwoo’s grip tightens ever so slightly around Junghwan’s fingers, just a little more, to pull him closer, as close as Sunwoo dares to have him in case he slips away once more. When Junghwan doesn’t reply or meet his gaze Sunwoo lowers his, locking his fingers with Junghwan’s own limp digits, breath shallow and bated.

“I love you,” he says again, voice low and shaking, shaking with trepidation and hurt and just the slightest bit of hope. “Please just don’t go.”

Every word feels like it’s cutting his heart out of his chest, still raw and trembling from the breakup and he’s offering it to Junghwan once more, and when he feels the fingers in his loosen, when Junghwan’s hands cradle his face, the cool, soft skin pressing against the tear streaks on his cheeks, it leaps painfully once more.

“Look, Sunwoo, you’re drunk…” Junghwan’s voice is weary like Sunwoo has never heard it before, ridden with tired emotion, and though his words make his heart sink into his stomach he reaches up to grasp Junghwan’s slim wrists anyway, just to feel him touch him once last time. “You’re drunk, so-…”

Sunwoo’s breath catches in his chest as Junghwan looks up at him, large eyes on the verge of tears, pulling him almost close enough to touch, almost.

“I-if you mean what you’re saying, please, just tell me it’s true.”

“Yes,” Sunwoo blurts out before he even thinks about it, before he processes the words in his mind, desperation and longing traitorously evident in his voice, fingers tightening around Junghwan’s wrists. “Yes.”

Hesitation is written all over Junghwan’s face, and for the second time in many minutes, Sunwoo’s heart sinks just a little, the hope he feels making the sensation a thousand times more painful.

Then Junghwan leans forward, eyes still averting his, and Sunwoo gravitates towards him naturally, for that was how it had always been, till their foreheads touch, and Sunwoo’s bursting with questions but the moment’s too precious to shatter, and he’s waiting, waiting, waiting-…

“One more shot,” Junghwan’s voice is trembling and so soft Sunwoo has to strain to hear it. “We’ll give this one more shot and see how things work, okay?”

Sunwoo doesn’t dare to look up- his alcohol ridden brain is convinced that it’s all some crazy, wonderful dream that’s going to end once he looks at Junghwan again, but then Junghwan draws closer, close enough for Sunwoo to feel the warmth of his breaths fanning across his cheek, and their lips brush ever so slightly, and the safety and warmth Sunwoo feels envelopes him like a warm blanket, just feeling Junghwan so close by intoxicates him further than any alcohol could.

It’s crazy, how the desperate need for Junghwan’s attention, his care, hits him just then, carving itself deeper in him with every second longer spent in his presence, and Sunwoo presses closer with restraint, as if unable to believe he’s back, Junghwan’s with him once more.

“I promise,” the words rush out in a trembling, hopeful breath. “I promise I’ll…I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.”

Soft brown hair tickles his neck as Sunwoo feels Junghwan bury his face in his neck, the shock of hot tears that don’t belong to him against his skin forcing his arms to tighten shakily around the boy in his embrace.

“Just promise you’ll never go again,” Junghwan’s words are muffled but Sunwoo understands with a elated clarity, despite the fog in his head from the alcohol, despite the overwhelming surrealism of the situation, and a burden he’d never noticed before seems to dissolve on his shoulders.

“I promise.”

The next thing Sunwoo registers is the slant of sunlight across his face.

He groans, feeling every muscle in his body cry out in protest as he shifts his weight on the mattress, his head spinning and heavy at the same time. Something is buzzing at his hip, and he faintly registers that he’s still in the clothes he had on last night.

Last night…

Sunwoo stares into the strip of sunlight for a while, not daring to look around, half-expecting to turn over and see Jinyoung snoring in the opposite bed as usual, to pick himself up and realise that nothing had changed, that last night was nothing but a stupid dream.

The buzzing at his hip persists, and Sunwoo grumble-moans as he throws his arm pathetically towards his pockets, the limb feeling more like a stick of jelly than ever now, attempting to dig in and get out whatever was vibrating.

When what feels like an hour passes and Sunwoo’s only managed to coordinate two fingers into his pocket, however, he’s almost shocked off the bed when someone half-flings himself over his chest with an annoyed moan, and digs into his pocket to get the phone out.

“Hello?” Sunwoo registers a pillow-mussed head of fluffy brown hair and a sleepy half-glare at the opposite wall and blinks slowly (because hangovers affect everything including eyelid muscles). “What, what do you want?”

Sunwoo barely hears the surprised buzz of Jinyoung’s voice from the other end when Junghwan cuts him off.

“Yeah, he’s with me, yes, he’s fine and hungover, no don’t come and collect him anytime soon. Yes. No. Yes hello Chansik no we didn’t have . No. Okay bye.”

Junghwan tosses the phone aside and curls up on Sunwoo’s chest, muttering about annoying friends and calling at ungodly hours in the morning.

Sunwoo blinks.

He then tries to say something but the only thing his vocal chords manage to squeeze out is an “augglllpp” sound, and he feels Junghwan’s shoulders shaking with laughter. It’s both a weird and welcome sensation, having someone laugh into your stomach when you’re hungover and half-awake.

“Your breath stinks,” Junghwan mumbles into the fabric of Sunwoo’s shirt in the tone of what would usually be a “good morning”. Sunwoo gargles incoherently.

Junghwan looks up at him then, sleep-misted brown eyes peering almost shyly through his bangs, and Sunwoo fights to focus on the soft features of his face in the morning, though it hurts daggers just to try and look at anything that isn’t the inside of his eyelids.

“Feeling okay?” Soft fingers reach up to press against his forehead, and Junghwan slides further up his body, the warm fabric rustling against Sunwoo’s bare arms, until Sunwoo can feel the tip of his nose brush against his neck, breath sending goosebumps shivering along his skin.

At this point, Sunwoo can only numbly shake his head, and Junghwan laughs once more, breathy and sweet, curling his body around Sunwoo like he’s a giant throw pillow, before finally resting his head against Sunwoo’s shoulder.

“Dongwoo’s got some leftover painkillers from his fever prescription last week, I can get them for you later,” he murmurs softly, delicate fingers pushing Sunwoo’s hair out of his eyes, and Sunwoo automatically stiffens at his touch, as though afraid, afraid to have it back because he knows he’ll lose it again someday. Junghwan lifts his gaze slightly, to look at Sunwoo with a sad sort of smile, which is replaced by surprise when he feels Sunwoo’s fingers tighten shakily around his hand.

“D-don’t go again,” he finally manages to mumble, clutching Junghwan’s hand close, and for a moment Sunwoo can’t hear anything but the thundering of his own heartbeat, fearful and hopeful in an anxiety inducing mix that dampens with relief when Junghwan smiles again, large eyes reflecting the emotions throbbing in Sunwoo’s heart.

“We’ll give this just one more shot, okay?” the words are barely above a whisper but it’s enough, enough to keep him trying, and Junghwan giggles melodically again at the weak smile he forces, the sound hesitant and eager at the same time.

One more chance was all he ever needed anyway.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Author's Note:

so are you guys going to stone me or

Yay O levels are over but I'm honestly still waiting for the sense of catharsis that's supposed to follow D: I wrote this a long time ago, and I was supposed to mop it up a few days after but I think I was forcing myself into the O level mentality then, so I never really got around to it :( I'm sorry, I actually put this up in June and it's already November (going into Dec) now ughhhh :'( I'm not really satisfied with this but I don't want to delay it any longer DDD: The good news (?) is that now that darling Os are over I actually won't have an excuse to put off writing anymore. Bad news is that I for some strange reason got into (several) new fandom(s) (i think those who follow my tumblr will know) and signed up again for the b1a4ss exchange so I am in deep dog doo doo D:

SO UPDATE i am currently pooping out a separate college au which will probably never see the light of day, my b1a4ss fic whose survival i am violently fearing for, another b1a4 au which i...i don't even know (it's jinchan in case you're wondering), and did i mention i wrote a 16 page long university fic for badeul which i am probably never going to post D:

I is fantastic

Also I'm not sure but I'm trying to get a job. I think it's a coming of age thing. And my friend got eaten by jellyfish at Sentosa. And the b1a4 over flowers dvd I have been anticipating since the beginning of time is S$52 plus shipping (hahah punnnn) so I am crying into my pillow at night. 

Okay so you probably don't need to know that but um. Please comment :))) I don't know if I'll be accepted back into b1a4 society after that hiatus but I'd really be so grateful if you guys commented on what you thought of this fic :)

Also um I'm going to try to reply to indiv comments now so beware of awkwardness

Sincerely,
WhiteWings19

P.S.

cnu became heechul once

ok bai have fun my pretties