A/N: i'm sorry for going in a completely different direction with this but your fill just wouldn't leave my head, risa, hope you don't mind.
***
“What the fuck are you doing? Hyung.” Jihoon starts without preface the second Seungcheol steps into the studio. “You can’t possibly be trying to pretend that you’re so dumb you don’t see what’s happening—what’s being done to you.”
Seungcheol isn’t that dumb, nor is he a good enough liar to act like he doesn’t know what Jihoon is talking about. Even if Jihoon has given him zero context to work with.
“—he knows.” There’s only one person who from whom Soonyoung could’ve heard and both of them know there wasn’t any room for doubt in his knowing.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Jihoon’s looks like a part of the torn leather chair he’s sitting on, pen marks on his fingers and the hollow under his eyes amplifying his unimpressed stare at Seungcheol, which is to say, Seungcheol excuses not just the swiftness with which he drops his honorifics, but also the onslaught of questions he’d rather not have to answer because Jihoon is tired—must have spent at least the last two nights in this same room.
Jihoon waits on an answer because he knows Seungcheol like a limb, still, and at the end of the day, someone has to.
“Do I really have to tell you how I feel, Jihoon-ah?” Seungcheol finally sinks into the spare plastic chair, pressing it back against the wall with every long breath he takes.
Jihoon sighs. “No, it was really clear that you were in over your head. Probably still are. Why did you say yes to her?”
“Because she asked.”
“Fuck,” Jihoon curses. “Please, tell me that was a bad joke and you’re not really trying to play martyr for someone else’s future relationship—for your ex’s, no less. Hyung.”
Jihoon knows him better than anyone else and Seungcheol would give him all his truths but how can he hope to ever share this shameful need inside him to be wanted, to be at the centre of something—even if it is a story designed to ruin him?
Seungcheol laughs, a hoarse, bitter thing turning his throat dry.
“Jihoon-ah,” He says, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. “Is it really so hard to believe that I’m hoping this hurts him, too?”
[REMIX] drop a heart, break a name
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, Yoon Jeonghan (tired sigh)
Permission to remix: Yes
wc: 402 (hwa, pay up)
3/5 remixes
A/N: i'm sorry for going in a completely different direction with this but your fill just wouldn't leave my head, risa, hope you don't mind.
***
“What the fuck are you doing? Hyung.” Jihoon starts without preface the second Seungcheol steps into the studio. “You can’t possibly be trying to pretend that you’re so dumb you don’t see what’s happening—what’s being done to you.”
Seungcheol isn’t that dumb, nor is he a good enough liar to act like he doesn’t know what Jihoon is talking about. Even if Jihoon has given him zero context to work with.
“Who told you?” He finally asks.
Jihoon scoffs. “Does it matter?”
Seungcheol doesn’t have to say anything.
“Soonyoung.” Jihoon finally sighs. “Soonyoung, insinuated something well, I’m pretty sure—”
“—he knows.” There’s only one person who from whom Soonyoung could’ve heard and both of them know there wasn’t any room for doubt in his knowing.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Jihoon’s looks like a part of the torn leather chair he’s sitting on, pen marks on his fingers and the hollow under his eyes amplifying his unimpressed stare at Seungcheol, which is to say, Seungcheol excuses not just the swiftness with which he drops his honorifics, but also the onslaught of questions he’d rather not have to answer because Jihoon is tired—must have spent at least the last two nights in this same room.
Jihoon waits on an answer because he knows Seungcheol like a limb, still, and at the end of the day, someone has to.
“Do I really have to tell you how I feel, Jihoon-ah?” Seungcheol finally sinks into the spare plastic chair, pressing it back against the wall with every long breath he takes.
Jihoon sighs. “No, it was really clear that you were in over your head. Probably still are. Why did you say yes to her?”
“Because she asked.”
“Fuck,” Jihoon curses. “Please, tell me that was a bad joke and you’re not really trying to play martyr for someone else’s future relationship—for your ex’s, no less. Hyung.”
Jihoon knows him better than anyone else and Seungcheol would give him all his truths but how can he hope to ever share this shameful need inside him to be wanted, to be at the centre of something—even if it is a story designed to ruin him?
Seungcheol laughs, a hoarse, bitter thing turning his throat dry.
“Jihoon-ah,” He says, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. “Is it really so hard to believe that I’m hoping this hurts him, too?”