Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
About
"Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time."
"How inconvenient to be made of desire."
"It's me, hi, I'm the problem its me."
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy WeVerse drama.
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[FILL] the two of us are just young gods
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, complicated relationships, unrequited-ish love
Permission to remix: Yes
***
Jeonghanâs midway through a long-winded story that Seungcheol hasnât actually been paying close attention to when Jeonghan pauses, tilts his beer toward Mingyu and Minghao, and says, âSometimes I wonder if they can tell when itâs fake.â
Seungcheol isnât drunk but he doesnât know what Jeonghan is talking about, so he stares at the shape of Jeonghanâs hand clenched around the bottle, bony and pale. The ring on his pinky clanks against the glass in a nervous rhythm. Seungcheol can almost feel nervous energy radiating off of Jeonghan, even with Seokmin sitting between them. He imagines his palm pressed against Jeonghanâs chest, cupping the staccato flight of his heart.
âWhen what is?â asks Chan, leaning into Seungcheolâs space as he reaches for more food.
âEverything,â Jeonghan says, with a razor-sharp laugh. âAll the bullshit we say on stage.â
Seungcheol speaks without thinking. âI never lie on stage.â
He watches Jeonghanâs face come into view as he leans around Seokmin. His eyes, dark and unreadable, meet Seungcheolâs. âDonât you?â he asks.
Seungcheol opens his mouth to protestâjust because Jeonghan lies with every breath doesnât mean the rest of them do, doesnât mean Seungcheol doesâbut Minghao speaks before he gets the chance to argue his point.
âI think itâs a matter of perspective,â Minghao says. âItâs not so much about whether or not itâs true but whether or not you believe it.â
Jeonghan holds Seungcheolâs gaze for a moment longer and then his eyes flicker towards Minghao, plunging Seungcheol into cold water. The lamp over their table refracts into a pattern of light and shadows. Seungcheolâs mind numbs, as though he isnât really here.
âItâs not,â Jeonghan argues. âYouâd have to be delusional to really believe everything you say on stageâI mean really believe it.â
âMaybe I do,â Seungcheol interjects, if only to drag Jeonghanâs gaze back to him.
A pause. Jeonghan looks at him, assessing. Seungcheolâs mouth flattens into a hard line.
âYou care about the fans,â Seungcheol protests, the edges of his words curling in the heat of his anger. What heâs angry about, he isnât even quite sure. âTheyâre real. They spend their time and money on us. They love us. And youâre going to sit here and tell me everything you say to them is bullshit?â
Jeonghan smiles, barely. âAh, Seungcheol,â he says in a drawl that always precedes his sharpest words. âWeâre not really gods.â
--
But regardless of what Jeonghan thinks: Seungcheol is always truthful on stage.
âI love you,â he says into his microphone. His words reverberate through the stadium and his eyes slide over to Jeonghan.
Jeonghan looks back at him, aglow in stage lights. To Seungcheol he seems like a star fallen to earthâradiant, celestial, ephemeral. The crowd roars with devotion, every scream a sacrifice at the altar of the stage. Seungcheol, watching Jeonghan, feels the same roar rip through his chest.
Carried on a wave of adoration, he wanders the stage and spots a fan holding a sign in the crowd. Jeongcheol forever, it reads, alongside a picture of them when they were younger, less aware, more desperate to be loved. He turns and catches Jeonghanâs eye just after he spots it.
He tilts a smile in Seungcheolâs direction and then fades away, too distant and cold to touch. For once, Seungcheol does not try to reach out a hand to catch him before he disappears into the night.
--
How can it be a lie, just because it happens on stage, if everyone watching believes it to be true?
--
âSo you just think of it as lying,â Seungcheol says, later, only the green glow of the alarm clock on his nightstand piercing through the dark. âEverything you say in front of a camera?â
Jeonghan groans and shifts away from Seungcheol, a gap of cold air rushing into the space he left. âAre you really still thinking about that?â
He is thinking about how Jeonghanâs mouth, velvet and warm when they kiss, must be the truth. It canât really matter what words he says as long as the physical weight of the truth shoves its way into the foreground, undeniable.
âI mean it,â Seungcheol says. âI mean all of it.â
Jeonghan remains quiet. Seungcheol listens to the sound of his breathing and shifts toward him, but stops himself from chasing after the thin warmth heâd left.
âThen I mean it too,â Jeonghan says, his words a mirage of comfort. âGo to sleep.â
--
It didnât start like this. At the beginning it was blurry but absolute, and Seungcheol plunged headfirst. Only later did he realize his lungs had filled with water.
But at firstâstage blended into home, on camera meant as much as off, and they were tired and desperate andâ
I need you, is what heâd said, his voice small but clear.
At least back then, they were the same.
--
The orange glow of the setting sun casts warm stripes across the cavity of the plane. Jeonghan, looking out the window, burns bright.
âItâs not the same for me as it is for you,â he says so quietly Seungcheol almost misses it. His head swivels back around, and now he is outlined in a halo of dying sunlight. âI didnât know what I was getting into.â
Seungcheolâs stomach swoops like theyâre experiencing turbulence, but the plane remains steady, filled with an endless whir of noise as they speed across the sky.
âWhat do you mean?â he asks carefully.
âYou can mean what you say,â Jeonghan answers. âBut I just have to get by.â
Thereâs something hidden underneath his words, endless double meanings Seungcheol doesnât really want to dig up. He reaches for Jeonghanâs hand instead.
It shouldnât mean something when Jeonghan doesnât pull away.
--
âYou should date,â Jeonghan says when theyâre back in Seoul, milling around during a lull on set. Seungcheol searches his face for a hint of sarcasm or cruelty, but finds only sincerity where he expects poison.
âThereâs no time,â Seungcheol mumbles. He canât hold Jeonghanâs gaze and his eyes drop to his shoes, an embarrassing sign of defeat.
âYouâre in the prime of life, hot, rich, and famous,â Jeonghan continues. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his linen pants, selected for him by a team who all cooed over how good they looked as soon as he stepped out of the dressing room. âItâs a shame not to use all of that.â
Seungcheol looks up at him again. Jeonghan meets him with the same cool, impenetrable stare as before.
âWhat about you?â Seungcheol says lightlyâteasing, maybe. Trying.
Jeonghan, for once, is the first to look away. âWho said I wasnât?â he retorts airily. âThis is about you.â
He hesitates for a split second too long before he walks away. In that split second the knife twists deeper into Seungcheolâs gut, blunt and predictable but excruciating all the same.
--
Another country, another hotel. Seungcheol goes to the swimming pool at dusk, distantly worried about someone photographing him but not enough to stay entombed in his room. He slides into the water, sinking down until he hits the concrete bottom. The quiet thrums in his ears. He wants to let go, leave his feelings floating in this pool like debris.
When he reemerges, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, leaving Seungcheol in the afterlight of its death. Until the next day, when it will rise again, and again, and again.
--
The yellow haze of a sky before a thunderstorm draws Seungcheol to the window of his hotel room. He looks out at an indiscernible mass of concrete, his reflection a faint shadow within the glass. Carats, be safe coming to the concert! He composes in his head. It smells like itâs going to storm.
A beep signals him to turn around before the door to his room opens and Jeonghan appears in its gap, slight as a shadow. His eyes are as dark and heavy as a rain cloud, falling on Seungcheol with the intent of thunder. An ache pools low in Seungcheolâs stomach, familiar and unwanted.
âWhat are you doing here?â he asks.
If Jeonghan is surprised, he doesnât show it, crossing the distance between them but stopping just short of an armâs length away.
âI got lonely,â he says, joking, but Seungcheol hears the honesty laced through his words.
A clap of thunder startles them both. Seungcheol turns back toward the window, searching the sky for rain. There is no sign of the incoming storm.
âI thought you were seeing someone,â Seungcheol says.
He looks at Jeonghan. Neither of them moves.
âI never said that,â Jeonghan answers. âYou inferred.â
âOkay,â Seungcheol agrees. He hesitates, fighting against the way the room shifts and tilts towards Jeonghan. Gravitational pull. Heâs always losing his footing. âI think you should go, anyway.â
The slightest flash of anger crosses Jeonghanâs face, but then itâs gone, smoothed out and undetectable.
âIf you really loved me like you say you do, you wouldnât do this,â Jeonghan spits out.
Itâs such an obvious manipulation that even Seungcheol can see it. He wants to argue, but he canât seem to think of anything to say.
A few raindrops splatter against the window. Jeonghan takes a step closer.
âDo you love me?â Seungcheol asks, voice hollow with fear.
Jeonghanâs steps falter. âOf course,â he says, cool as water. Seungcheol slips beneath the surface, his want rendering him immobile, likely to drown.
Jeonghan reaches for him with cold hands and cups his cheeks. âI need you,â he says softly.
Seungcheol takes a deep breath and lets the water flood his lungs.
Re: [FILL] the two of us are just young gods
you're also so so so good at writing about idolverse, I've said this a thousand times before but the motif of lying/telling the truth is so good and so clever as a way to parallel the idolsona with the... emotional distance between jeongcheol?? like how much has jeonghan internalised the need to maintain the idolsona and projected that onto his approach to all of his relationships? or did the detachment come first and that end up getting turned into his approach to fame?? god it's so good
âYou can mean what you say,â Jeonghan answers. âBut I just have to get by.â
THIS LINE MAKES ME FEEL INSANE
When he reemerges, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, leaving Seungcheol in the afterlight of its death. Until the next day, when it will rise again, and again, and again.
BOY THESE ARE CERTAINLY SOME WORDS!!!!
I can't keep quoting bits at you or this comment will be too long but know that every single word had be screaming
Re: [FILL] the two of us are just young gods
Re: [FILL] the two of us are just young gods
Re: [FILL] the two of us are just young gods
Re: [FILL] the two of us are just young gods
âAh, Seungcheol,â he says in a drawl that always precedes his sharpest words. âWeâre not really gods.â and It didnât start like this. At the beginning it was blurry but absolute, and Seungcheol plunged headfirst. Only later did he realize his lungs had filled with water. and When he reemerges, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, leaving Seungcheol in the afterlight of its death. Until the next day, when it will rise again, and again, and again. and more.
i love how this is all about how imperfect they are and yet how unequal the dynamic is between seungcheol and jeonghan and how that's inherent because of the types of people they are, the one that openly needs support and touch, and the one that hides his true desires behind facades, that it's not something that will change so easily. and this seungcheol will still be drawn to this jeonghan in that cyclical, self-sabotaging way.
At least back then, they were the same. and how when you're young you don't know anything and you haven't figured out boundaries and you just satisfy your needs as best you can and how the effects of that continue to impact your relationships moving forward
Re: [FILL] the two of us are just young gods