Ship/Member: jeonghan/seungcheol Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: vaguely idolverse, breaking up, is it breaking up if you were never really together? Permission to remix: Yes
***
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
July 31. Twenty minutes to midnight. Jeonghan stands on the roof of a building and waits.
July 31. Fifteen minutes to midnight. Seungcheol appears like a ghost, haunting him. Drifting towards him, pulling him close. Unlike a ghost, his hands are searingly hot around Jeonghan’s waist. An anchor to this world. Maybe Jeonghan is the ghost.
Despite the summer heat, Jeonghan shivers. Seungcheol reels him in and kisses him full, kisses him breathless. Jeonghan indulges for five minutes. Ten minutes. Like he’s done so many times before, too many times before.
July 31. Five minutes until midnight. Jeonghan almost can’t muster up the strength. He thinks about the headlines (SEVENTEEN S.Coups and Jeonghan photographed kissing on a roof, SEVENTEEN S.Coups and Jeonghan embroiled in dating scandal, SEVENTEEN Jeonghan kicked out of group) and pushes Seungcheol away from him with a hand on his chest. Manages to say, “We can’t keep doing this.”
Seungcheol, never one to listen to reason, tries to crowd closer. “Why not?” he asks. There’s a grin on his face. Jeonghan tries not to look at his smile. If he does, he might lose track of the impulse control hanging by a thread.
“Coups-ah,” Jeonghan says, looking at the lifeless street down below instead of at Seungcheol. “You know why.”
Seungcheol sighs, full and deep bodied. Jeonghan feels it reverberate through his bones. He untwines from Jeonghan, slow, achingly regretful. It feels like pulling away from sunlight, retreating into the darkness. Withering. Seungcheol stands there and waits. Looks at Jeonghan like he’s expecting him to bare his soul. Like he’d bare his own in return.
Jeonghan doesn’t know what to do with that kind of thoughtless devotion. Doesn’t know how to handle another heart next to his, another pair of hands in his. Seungcheol sits on the ground and looks at Jeonghan, like he’s searching for something. Something he won’t find, probably. Jeonghan sinks down next to him and listens to his own pounding heart.
“Do you ever think, if we weren’t idols—” Seungcheol starts. Jeonghan makes a soft noise and stops him in his tracks.
“I don’t like hypotheticals,” Jeonghan says, stopping him. He looks at Seungcheol, now, finally, dares him to talk with his eyes.
“I do,” Seungcheol says, looking right back. Fiery, like he can be sometimes. “Do you think in a parallel universe we could be together?”
“I don’t believe in parallel universes,” Jeonghan tells him. He stretches his hands out behind him. They dig into the concrete.
“Stop lying,” Seungcheol says. Gentle, voice reigned back in, despite it all. Despite Jeonghan.
Jeonghan sits in silence. He looks up at the sky. It’s clear, but he can only make out one star. Maybe that star is Seungcheol, in a parallel universe. Maybe Jeonghan would be pulled, irresistibly, into his orbit. Maybe that other Jeonghan wouldn’t try so hard to break out.
“I would like that universe,” Jeonghan says, finally. His hands are left with the indent of the concrete and his heart is left with the indent of Seungcheol. He stands and walks away from Seungcheol, firmly not looking back. He opens the door and steps inside. The cold blast of the air conditioning makes him shiver. He tries not to expect Seungcheol to run after him.
Seungcheol has given him far too many chances. Jeonghan has left him, hand outstretched, heart outstretched, each time.
The door falls shut behind Jeonghan and he’s left in the eerie cold darkness. August 1. It’s five minutes past midnight. Jeonghan is left with a broken heart.
[FILL] darkness again
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: vaguely idolverse, breaking up, is it breaking up if you were never really together?
Permission to remix: Yes
***
July 31. Twenty minutes to midnight. Jeonghan stands on the roof of a building and waits.
July 31. Fifteen minutes to midnight. Seungcheol appears like a ghost, haunting him. Drifting towards him, pulling him close. Unlike a ghost, his hands are searingly hot around Jeonghan’s waist. An anchor to this world. Maybe Jeonghan is the ghost.
Despite the summer heat, Jeonghan shivers. Seungcheol reels him in and kisses him full, kisses him breathless. Jeonghan indulges for five minutes. Ten minutes. Like he’s done so many times before, too many times before.
July 31. Five minutes until midnight. Jeonghan almost can’t muster up the strength. He thinks about the headlines (SEVENTEEN S.Coups and Jeonghan photographed kissing on a roof, SEVENTEEN S.Coups and Jeonghan embroiled in dating scandal, SEVENTEEN Jeonghan kicked out of group) and pushes Seungcheol away from him with a hand on his chest. Manages to say, “We can’t keep doing this.”
Seungcheol, never one to listen to reason, tries to crowd closer. “Why not?” he asks. There’s a grin on his face. Jeonghan tries not to look at his smile. If he does, he might lose track of the impulse control hanging by a thread.
“Coups-ah,” Jeonghan says, looking at the lifeless street down below instead of at Seungcheol. “You know why.”
Seungcheol sighs, full and deep bodied. Jeonghan feels it reverberate through his bones. He untwines from Jeonghan, slow, achingly regretful. It feels like pulling away from sunlight, retreating into the darkness. Withering. Seungcheol stands there and waits. Looks at Jeonghan like he’s expecting him to bare his soul. Like he’d bare his own in return.
Jeonghan doesn’t know what to do with that kind of thoughtless devotion. Doesn’t know how to handle another heart next to his, another pair of hands in his.
Seungcheol sits on the ground and looks at Jeonghan, like he’s searching for something. Something he won’t find, probably. Jeonghan sinks down next to him and listens to his own pounding heart.
“Do you ever think, if we weren’t idols—” Seungcheol starts. Jeonghan makes a soft noise and stops him in his tracks.
“I don’t like hypotheticals,” Jeonghan says, stopping him. He looks at Seungcheol, now, finally, dares him to talk with his eyes.
“I do,” Seungcheol says, looking right back. Fiery, like he can be sometimes. “Do you think in a parallel universe we could be together?”
“I don’t believe in parallel universes,” Jeonghan tells him. He stretches his hands out behind him. They dig into the concrete.
“Stop lying,” Seungcheol says. Gentle, voice reigned back in, despite it all. Despite Jeonghan.
Jeonghan sits in silence. He looks up at the sky. It’s clear, but he can only make out one star. Maybe that star is Seungcheol, in a parallel universe. Maybe Jeonghan would be pulled, irresistibly, into his orbit. Maybe that other Jeonghan wouldn’t try so hard to break out.
“I would like that universe,” Jeonghan says, finally. His hands are left with the indent of the concrete and his heart is left with the indent of Seungcheol. He stands and walks away from Seungcheol, firmly not looking back. He opens the door and steps inside. The cold blast of the air conditioning makes him shiver. He tries not to expect Seungcheol to run after him.
Seungcheol has given him far too many chances. Jeonghan has left him, hand outstretched, heart outstretched, each time.
The door falls shut behind Jeonghan and he’s left in the eerie cold darkness. August 1. It’s five minutes past midnight. Jeonghan is left with a broken heart.