Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Seungcheol Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: fwb, feelings realization, one-sided(?) love Permission to remix: ask!
***
Jeonghan wakes to the sound of a door closing in the distance, an echo of a click that quickly brings him to consciousness. He squints at the wall, slowly rolls over to face the other half of the bed, and doesn’t think about how disappointed he is to see it unoccupied.
He sighs, dragging his aching body into a sitting position. His phone sits on the nightstand, propped on the wireless charger because Seungcheol had insisted he use it since your phone is on 23%, I can charge mine at work and Jeonghan hadn’t had the energy to argue. Jeonghan glares at the device like it personally offended him, reaching for it to thumb it awake. Several notifications meet him beneath the bold 10:47am at the top, but only one stack stands out to him like a beacon in the dark.
cheol: work called cheol: they needed me a couple hours early cheol: u were sleeping so peacefully i didnt wanna wake u :’( cheol: feel free to raid my fridge
This isn’t new. Jeonghan’s been in this apartment countless times, the first few as a fellow classmate looking to study, the following tens — no, hundreds, surely Jeonghan’s stepped over that threshold enough to hit the triple digits by now, of times being as friends, then friends who fuck, then post-grad friends who fuck, then coworkers who fuck because they couldn’t stand the idea of being apart (and shouldn’t that have been a red flag?), then back to friends who fuck because Jeonghan got fired. He likes to think at least one of them has learned not to be so codependent over the years, and it’s definitely not him.
Jeonghan waking up in Seungcheol’s bed alone isn’t a new development, no — no, no, not at all, but what’s a new development is he feels lonely. He’s used to being alone, when Seungcheol works late hours and doesn’t have the energy for even a drink or two, but being alone and feeling lonely are two different things. Jeonghan’s used to the former, and he’s come to find out recently that the latter fucking sucks.
Some would say they’re too old to be doing this — they’re in their thirties, they should be looking to settle down, et cetera. Jeonghan can’t find it in himself to disagree. And yet — here he is. Rolling around in the sheets with his friend for some relief, waking up alone most mornings with regret thick in his throat. Alone.
Feeling lonely.
Clearing his throat, Jeonghan drags himself out of bed to rummage for food in Seungcheol’s pantry, plopping down on the couch while he eats dry cereal straight from the box. The cornflakes stick uncomfortably to his dry throat, so Jeonghan chases it down with the leftover wine abandoned on the coffee table.
Jeonghan briefly entertains the thought of putting an end to this, for his own sake and sanity. He thinks about telling Seungcheol why, that he can’t keep fucking him because he’s greedy, because he wants more. The thought of Seungcheol — sweet, kind, caring Seungcheol — rejecting him with sad, pitying eyes makes Jeonghan physically ache.
His phone dings from the bedroom, letting him know someone’s trying to get his attention, and Jeonghan wouldn’t think twice about ignoring it if it wasn’t for the one-two chimes that follow. Jeonghan groans, setting the box of generic brand cereal on the table and hefting his body up from where he’d been sinking into the couch cushions. His phone goes off again in the short trek to Seungcheol’s bedroom, punctually reminding him of the text awaiting him.
[FILL] but i'm drinkin' out his hand like a vodka cran
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: fwb, feelings realization, one-sided(?) love
Permission to remix: ask!
***
Jeonghan wakes to the sound of a door closing in the distance, an echo of a click that quickly brings him to consciousness. He squints at the wall, slowly rolls over to face the other half of the bed, and doesn’t think about how disappointed he is to see it unoccupied.
He sighs, dragging his aching body into a sitting position. His phone sits on the nightstand, propped on the wireless charger because Seungcheol had insisted he use it since your phone is on 23%, I can charge mine at work and Jeonghan hadn’t had the energy to argue. Jeonghan glares at the device like it personally offended him, reaching for it to thumb it awake. Several notifications meet him beneath the bold 10:47am at the top, but only one stack stands out to him like a beacon in the dark.
cheol: work called
cheol: they needed me a couple hours early
cheol: u were sleeping so peacefully i didnt wanna wake u :’(
cheol: feel free to raid my fridge
This isn’t new. Jeonghan’s been in this apartment countless times, the first few as a fellow classmate looking to study, the following tens — no, hundreds, surely Jeonghan’s stepped over that threshold enough to hit the triple digits by now, of times being as friends, then friends who fuck, then post-grad friends who fuck, then coworkers who fuck because they couldn’t stand the idea of being apart (and shouldn’t that have been a red flag?), then back to friends who fuck because Jeonghan got fired. He likes to think at least one of them has learned not to be so codependent over the years, and it’s definitely not him.
Jeonghan waking up in Seungcheol’s bed alone isn’t a new development, no — no, no, not at all, but what’s a new development is he feels lonely. He’s used to being alone, when Seungcheol works late hours and doesn’t have the energy for even a drink or two, but being alone and feeling lonely are two different things. Jeonghan’s used to the former, and he’s come to find out recently that the latter fucking sucks.
Some would say they’re too old to be doing this — they’re in their thirties, they should be looking to settle down, et cetera. Jeonghan can’t find it in himself to disagree. And yet — here he is. Rolling around in the sheets with his friend for some relief, waking up alone most mornings with regret thick in his throat. Alone.
Feeling lonely.
Clearing his throat, Jeonghan drags himself out of bed to rummage for food in Seungcheol’s pantry, plopping down on the couch while he eats dry cereal straight from the box. The cornflakes stick uncomfortably to his dry throat, so Jeonghan chases it down with the leftover wine abandoned on the coffee table.
Jeonghan briefly entertains the thought of putting an end to this, for his own sake and sanity. He thinks about telling Seungcheol why, that he can’t keep fucking him because he’s greedy, because he wants more. The thought of Seungcheol — sweet, kind, caring Seungcheol — rejecting him with sad, pitying eyes makes Jeonghan physically ache.
His phone dings from the bedroom, letting him know someone’s trying to get his attention, and Jeonghan wouldn’t think twice about ignoring it if it wasn’t for the one-two chimes that follow. Jeonghan groans, setting the box of generic brand cereal on the table and hefting his body up from where he’d been sinking into the couch cushions. His phone goes off again in the short trek to Seungcheol’s bedroom, punctually reminding him of the text awaiting him.
Those thoughts will have to wait for another day.