long way ‘til here; yongguk/himchan, 495w

years down the line, himchan reminisces.

sometimes, when he was lying awake at night, toes cold and fingers going numb, himchan liked to think about how much time had passed since he met yongguk. he liked to think about younger times, good times, and how good looking yongguk was.

yongguk had been ‘jepp blackman’ back then, an underground rapper who loved his music more than anything else, maybe even himself. while himchan had been himchan—he loved music too—but there was another thing (or person) he loved more than music (or himself).

it hurt him, of course, to compete which such an abstract concept, a burning passion, but he didn’t mind doing mindless gigs with yongguk; guesting on yongguk’s performances, putting lyrics into melodies because yongguk tended to be too intricate with his words and people didn’t understand him (except himchan), maybe sleeping on the couch in the studio.

the small placard on yongguk’s door clearly said ‘jepp’s zone. do not disturb’ but one day himchan took a marker from yongguk’s back pocket—one that he carried everywhere—and added two messily scrawled words underneath the sign that said ‘except himchan’. yongguk had protested silently, always the man with a few words, but himchan saw the hint of smile there, and his heart skipped a beat.

the sign had been there years after that, years and a thousand memories later, until yongguk sold his old ratty studio in favor of a new one. and himchan wouldn’t lie, he missed the musky smell of a place that has seen so much, the hard lumps on the couch, the way yongguk would rest his head on the rotting wooden desk when he had had enough of composing of the day. the way yongguk looked like a child; small and vulnerable.

it took several years after that, and a year of being apart, to make yongguk realized that he wanted himchan to be more than a friend (probably he always did) and it took himchan all his might to not kick yongguk between his legs and scream ‘wasn’t i being obvious, you stupid fuc-’ and probably he did really say that, because yongguk touched his face before he could finish his sentence and he forgot how to breathe.

maybe yongguk said ‘yes i was stupid’ or maybe he didn’t say anything at all, himchan didn’t remember. because yongguk was there and yongguk was holding his hands and smiling that stupidstupidstupid gummy smile of his, the one himchan had come to love over the years. yongguk looked stupid smiling that big, and he probably looked just as bad, but right then he didn’t care. yongguk wasn’t jepp blackman, he was just a bang yongguk. and himchan had always been himchan.

years later, as himchan lied awake at night, waiting for yongguk, he thought about how much he still loved him. about how they were going to have more good times. more memories. he wanted more of yongguk’s stupid smiles, and he closed his eyes.

one day; daehyun/zelo, 520w

sometimes it's nice to imagine that they could run away.

the time on his phone shows that it’s way past midnight, but daehyun thinks it is perfectly acceptable for him to kick his blanket aside, climb slowly down the bed, put on his slippers, and walk over to the other side of the room.

his steps falter a little when he heard yongguk shifts in his bed, and he quickly tiptoes to his destination. he climbs the bunk bed skillfully, and the occupant of the top bunk stirs in his sleep.

"hey," daehyun whispers.

"hey," junhong whispers back. he moves his body a little bit to make room for daehyun amidst the junk on his bed. his laptop, comic books, and some snack wrappers are littered all over the mattress. junhong tries his best to make himself small.

"i can’t sleep," daehyun sighs into junhong’s hair. it smells like bubblegum, sweet and naive all at once. “i’m tired. all of these trainings for our comeback, rehearsals, i’m tired. junhong-ah, i’m tired."

"hmmm," junhong buries his nose into daehyun’s neck. his legs are almost dangling at the end of the bed to accommodate his height, so he tangles them with daehyun’s cold ones, and daehyun doesn’t protest.

"sometimes, i just want to run, you know. pack my bag in the middle of the night and go…somewhere. maybe change my name and my nationality," daehyun sighs again. junhong wants to say that his breath tickles his forehead, but daehyun is so warm in his arm, and sad. so, he just let him be. 

"hyung, do you want to leave me here alone?" junhong asks inaudibly. his lips brush the side of daehyun’s neck and he shivers. “hyung, don’t." 

"of course i wouldn’t leave you here alone. of course i will take you anywhere i go. what would i do without you?" daehyun answers and junhong can hear the smile in it.

"i’m tired too, hyung. i’m tired of pushing my limits everyday. i’m tired of trying to meet expectations. but i wanted this. hyung wanted this," junhong mumbles, his voice is thick with sleep. daehyun tightens his hold on junhong a little bit more and junhong exhales happily. “but you must promise me, if you’re ever gonna run away, take me with you."

"we’re gonna try to survive one more day, tomorrow. and if it becomes too much to handle, we run. alright, junhong?" daehyun yawns, the smell of junhong’s shampoo finally lulling him to sleep. he knows that he should go to his own bed before the other members wake up. he knows they have a long day of practice tomorrow. but this, he needs this little stolen moment with junhong maybe just a little bit more.

"i’ll go wherever hyung takes me. good night, hyung," junhong buries his nose deeper into the crook where daehyun’s neck meets his shoulder and a while later daehyun hears soft snores.

daehyun smiles, thinking that he should probably sleep too, and thinking about how one day they will run away together. he knows that it is a wishful thinking, but it’s fun to entertain it. much more with junhong in his arms.

one day.