Ship/Member: Seungkwan/Chan Major Tags: hunger games AU Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, the calm before the storm, proust’s madeleine but bread, seungkwan!katniss, chan!peeta, general hunger games themes (like death and famine) Permission to remix: Yes
word count: 898 a/n: i haven’t thought of hunger games in years but that quote changed something in me on the molecular level. this might contain many inaccuracies because i do not remember hunger games very well
***
Seungkwan wakes up to a soft knock on the door. He grunts and rolls under his covers, back hurting a little bit from the mattress.
“Seungkwan?” With the gentle and familiar voice comes the scent of freshly baked bread, and the combination of both is enough to convince Seungkwan to sit up. The bedsheet pools around his waist and the soft breeze coming through the open window tickles his stomach, the part that his shirt isn’t covering anymore.
With puffy eyes, he turns to Chan. “You brought breakfast?”
Chan takes a second to answer. Seungkwan sees where he’s looking and he turns red under the attention. This isn’t new, but he has yet to get used to it.
Too many changes in his life won’t allow his brain to keep up with everything that’s going on. He worries about so much, all the time, about things that are bigger than he’s ever known, about things he shouldn’t even be qualified to worry about. The one thing that’s changing that doesn’t frighten him to his core is Chan.
Chan will always let him take the time to catch up.
“Yeah,” he responds, holding up the basket covered by a cloth Seungkwan’s mother gifted Chan for his birthday a few years ago. “Made your favorite.”
Seungkwan smiles. “This morning?” Chan nods. “What time is it?”
“7. We better get going if we want to catch the sunrise.”
That was Chan’s idea. Yesterday, after Seungkwan paced the living room for hours trying to come up with a plan that will get everyone out of this alive, Chan took his hand and begged him to rest tomorrow. Seungkwan wasn’t easy to convince, but Chan looked like he was about to cry and Seungkwan just felt infinitely worse.
Chan is smiling this morning. Seungkwan realizes that he would do everything in his power to never see it drop.
By the time they get to the edge of the forest, where the ground abruptly turns into a cliff, the sunrise is over. This place is nice though. Seungkwan found it while he was hunting one day. The only place around town that isn’t cut off by the barbed wire fence. If anyone were to step off the cliff or try to climb down, they would fall to their death. Many probably have.
Chan sits down on the fresh and green grass. Seungkwan feels bitter at how healthy it looks. When Chan uncovers his basket, the smell of warm bread fills up the air. It’s almost enough to cover up the constant lingering smell of ashes.
Chan cuts the bread in half, and gives Seungkwan the bigger piece.
“Did you think about what I suggested yesterday?” Seungkwan asks after the first bite.
Chan smiles at him and it doesn’t reach his eyes. He pats Seungkwan’s thigh, knocking their knees together. “Today is a day of rest. Don’t frown at me like that… Just this morning then. But I’m serious.” His fingers dig into the meat of Seungkwan’s shoulder - and find bone right away. “Relax for now, you need it.”
Seungkwan doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Of course he needs to relax. But he also needs to keep his mother and sister and Chan alive, so excuse him if letting his toes free in the morning grass isn’t high on his list of priorities!
He doesn’t say any of that, of course. Instead he indulges Chan. This is just another way of taking care of him.
The bread is good, possibly the best Chan has ever made. He’s been making that recipe since he was a child, and he’s learned to perfect it. In the back of his head, Seungkwan considers the reality that Chan didn’t perfect the recipe - he just made it to Seungkwan’s taste.
The sun is warmer now, kissing their cheeks like a blessing. Has it been particularly cloudy lately, or has Seungkwan’s world just turned gray? He can’t remember the last time he’s seen such a bright blue sky.
Chan cards his fingers through Seungkwan’s hair, gently bringing his head to rest on his thigh. The sun is directly in Seungkwan’s eyes now, and he forces himself to close them. He doesn’t like having his eyes closed, especially if they’re outside, and especially if he’s with Chan. Because then he can’t look at him - he can’t look after him.
Chan clears his throat. “While I was baking this morning, I zoned out. When I came back to myself I was kneading the dough perfectly. It made me realize how many times I’ve made that bread, and how much it’s a part of me now.”
Seungkwan doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what he could say to that.
“There’s nothing I wish more than to wake up everyday to bake your favorite bread.” His voice feels tight, like he’s struggling to get the words out.
It would be nice, Seungkwan distantly thinks.
“Would you really allow me to waste so much flour on you?” Chan asks, more surprised than he should be.
Seungkwan tries to open his eyes and fails. Chan moves a hand above his face, casting a shadow over it. Seungkwan relaxes, keeps his eyes shut.
“Yeah,” he lets himself say. “Yeah, I would.” He feels Chan relax under him. He resumes carding his fingers through Seungkwan’s knotted hair.
This is for him, he tells himself. Everything is for him.
[FILL] you'll allow it?
Major Tags: hunger games AU
Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, the calm before the storm, proust’s madeleine but bread, seungkwan!katniss, chan!peeta, general hunger games themes (like death and famine)
Permission to remix: Yes
word count: 898
a/n: i haven’t thought of hunger games in years but that quote changed something in me on the molecular level. this might contain many inaccuracies because i do not remember hunger games very well
***
Seungkwan wakes up to a soft knock on the door. He grunts and rolls under his covers, back hurting a little bit from the mattress.
“Seungkwan?” With the gentle and familiar voice comes the scent of freshly baked bread, and the combination of both is enough to convince Seungkwan to sit up. The bedsheet pools around his waist and the soft breeze coming through the open window tickles his stomach, the part that his shirt isn’t covering anymore.
With puffy eyes, he turns to Chan. “You brought breakfast?”
Chan takes a second to answer. Seungkwan sees where he’s looking and he turns red under the attention. This isn’t new, but he has yet to get used to it.
Too many changes in his life won’t allow his brain to keep up with everything that’s going on. He worries about so much, all the time, about things that are bigger than he’s ever known, about things he shouldn’t even be qualified to worry about. The one thing that’s changing that doesn’t frighten him to his core is Chan.
Chan will always let him take the time to catch up.
“Yeah,” he responds, holding up the basket covered by a cloth Seungkwan’s mother gifted Chan for his birthday a few years ago. “Made your favorite.”
Seungkwan smiles. “This morning?” Chan nods. “What time is it?”
“7. We better get going if we want to catch the sunrise.”
That was Chan’s idea. Yesterday, after Seungkwan paced the living room for hours trying to come up with a plan that will get everyone out of this alive, Chan took his hand and begged him to rest tomorrow. Seungkwan wasn’t easy to convince, but Chan looked like he was about to cry and Seungkwan just felt infinitely worse.
Chan is smiling this morning. Seungkwan realizes that he would do everything in his power to never see it drop.
By the time they get to the edge of the forest, where the ground abruptly turns into a cliff, the sunrise is over. This place is nice though. Seungkwan found it while he was hunting one day. The only place around town that isn’t cut off by the barbed wire fence. If anyone were to step off the cliff or try to climb down, they would fall to their death. Many probably have.
Chan sits down on the fresh and green grass. Seungkwan feels bitter at how healthy it looks. When Chan uncovers his basket, the smell of warm bread fills up the air. It’s almost enough to cover up the constant lingering smell of ashes.
Chan cuts the bread in half, and gives Seungkwan the bigger piece.
“Did you think about what I suggested yesterday?” Seungkwan asks after the first bite.
Chan smiles at him and it doesn’t reach his eyes. He pats Seungkwan’s thigh, knocking their knees together. “Today is a day of rest. Don’t frown at me like that… Just this morning then. But I’m serious.” His fingers dig into the meat of Seungkwan’s shoulder - and find bone right away. “Relax for now, you need it.”
Seungkwan doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Of course he needs to relax. But he also needs to keep his mother and sister and Chan alive, so excuse him if letting his toes free in the morning grass isn’t high on his list of priorities!
He doesn’t say any of that, of course. Instead he indulges Chan. This is just another way of taking care of him.
The bread is good, possibly the best Chan has ever made. He’s been making that recipe since he was a child, and he’s learned to perfect it. In the back of his head, Seungkwan considers the reality that Chan didn’t perfect the recipe - he just made it to Seungkwan’s taste.
The sun is warmer now, kissing their cheeks like a blessing. Has it been particularly cloudy lately, or has Seungkwan’s world just turned gray? He can’t remember the last time he’s seen such a bright blue sky.
Chan cards his fingers through Seungkwan’s hair, gently bringing his head to rest on his thigh. The sun is directly in Seungkwan’s eyes now, and he forces himself to close them. He doesn’t like having his eyes closed, especially if they’re outside, and especially if he’s with Chan. Because then he can’t look at him - he can’t look after him.
Chan clears his throat. “While I was baking this morning, I zoned out. When I came back to myself I was kneading the dough perfectly. It made me realize how many times I’ve made that bread, and how much it’s a part of me now.”
Seungkwan doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what he could say to that.
“There’s nothing I wish more than to wake up everyday to bake your favorite bread.” His voice feels tight, like he’s struggling to get the words out.
It would be nice, Seungkwan distantly thinks.
“Would you really allow me to waste so much flour on you?” Chan asks, more surprised than he should be.
Seungkwan tries to open his eyes and fails. Chan moves a hand above his face, casting a shadow over it. Seungkwan relaxes, keeps his eyes shut.
“Yeah,” he lets himself say. “Yeah, I would.” He feels Chan relax under him. He resumes carding his fingers through Seungkwan’s knotted hair.
This is for him, he tells himself. Everything is for him.