prologue;

introductions are scary things. it means proving first impressions right or wrong, talking to build deeper connections, continuing into an undefinable future which surely will come to an end.

introductions mean commitment.

and that's terrifying to sungjoo.

*

wenhan joked once while tossing little fireballs in his palm, calling the older ‘the one that goes’. something that's never caught, never kept, never stops.

but he also thinks sungjoo suits his power, maybe too well. wears the freedom his teleportation gives almost effortlessly. materializing anywhere with only a puff of smoke to signal his entrance and departure, all with a quirking cheshire grin that lingers longer than he ever does.

but it does hurt. sometimes the smoke is suffocating as he collapses into it and the air is overwhelming when he reforms. there’s always a sense of displacement and detachment lingering around him like cigarette ashes he claims to smoke. and a heavy emptiness that’s always greedy between the bars of his ribcage.

he's never caught, because he's never chased. he's never remembered because he's forgotten. he never stays because no one really asks.