Ship/Member: Seungcheol/Wonwoo Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: rock band, emo elder nostalgia, very gentle Pete!Scoups Mikey!Wonu except i’m taking some liberties Permission to remix: Please ask A/N: OKAY BET
Wonwoo is twenty years old when he meets Seungcheol for the first time, though he’s always been in Wonwoo’s periphery. They both play bass. That’s what catches Wonwoo’s attention. He always pays a little more attention to the bass players, the same way Mingyu always knows who is left handed. Seungcheol is like the kid brother playing behind Jeonghan’s smooth, racy vocals. His hair is jet back and wavy, eyeliner smudged under his lashes. He’s dressed in skinny jeans and a checkered long sleeve shirt and Wonwoo can’t take his eyes off the way his hands move over the strings. There is a quiet confidence about him. A steadiness, just like the bass line he lays down. Wonwoo wonders if you can idolize your peers or if that’s just jealousy.
Wonwoo is almost shy on stage, the amped up bass shaking through his skinny frame, the lyrics he pens coming from someone else’s mouth. Joshua only gets what Wonwoo is trying to say about half the time. That’s ok. Wonwoo doesn’t want him to understand everything. He doesn’t want anyone to understand that much about him. It isn’t until Wonwoo meets Seungcheol that lyrics start to mean anything.
They're touring on a summer festival circuit. The usual suspects fill the tents that pass for dressing rooms. Wonwoo is tracing his eyelids with liner when Seungcheol and Jeonghan walk into the tent. Jeonghan and Joshua go way back, friends of friends or something like that. They all sort of exist in the same spheres. Wonwoo knows someone who knows someone who knows the legendary Lee Jihoon. It’s all connected.
Seungcheol spots him through the mirror and grins, walking over to him with a wave.
“Wonwoo, right?” he asks. “I watched your set in Chicago. You guys really get it.”
Wonwoo fights and fails to keep the smirk off his face. “Get what?”
“The scene. You have what the girls want.” Seungcheol’s eyes meet his. “The guys, too.”
Wonwoo has to drop the pencil before he pokes his eye out. It doesn’t clatter as loudly as he wants it to. “Y-yeah? You really think so?”
Seungcheol winks. “I know so. We should hang out after the show. You know, compare notes.”
There are things that Wonwoo has been hiding that no one knows. Bisexuality is one of those things. He’s staring at Seungcheol through a grimy mirror and Seungcheol is breathtaking. He’s hot. He’s implying things that everyone in the scene says but only means for the fans. He’s gotten his hopes up a few too many times to feel this way about Seungcheol. He takes the leap anyway.
“I’d like that,” Wonwoo says.
Jeonghan calls out to Seungcheol. He nods before he walks back to the other two men. It feels like he’s run a marathon, his heart skipping in his chest. Seungcheol wants to see him after the show.
Yeah. Why not?
Here are the things they do together over the course of the summer. Seungcheol takes his jacket even though it shouldn’t be able to fit him. It does. Wonwoo spots him in it during their set and nearly misses his cue. They smoke on the balcony of their hotel and watch the sunrise. Wonwoo plays a song with them, taking over the bass part while Seungcheol wanders closer to the crowd. Something shifts, so small Wonwoo almost doesn’t notice it.
I wish you were my bass, Seungcheol says a few weeks later, typed in black letters on his journal. Not just my friend. In the picture posted above it, Seungcheol is laying on the stage, hips canted up against his instrument.
A few more weeks and Wonwoo presses Seungcheol against the hotel door and kisses him, wet and messy and frantic. It feels like something clawing its way out of him. Something he has to do while there’s still time. Or maybe before it’s too late. Seungcheol fucks him as the rising sun spreads across the bed, blazing orange when he comes, like his entire body is on fire. Seungcheol follows right behind, their foreheads pressed together while he shakes through it. Wonwoo breathes in the air he breathes out. It feels like they are one person. They could be like this forever, Wonwoo thinks dizzily. They could keep doing this as long as they want.
The thing about summer is that it ends. The leaves change, the days shorten, the air grows cold enough to steal your breath. Seungcheol and Wonwoo part ways at the end of the festival. Of course they do. There are albums to write, tours to perform. They have so much to do and how much longer will they really be on top of the scene?
The first time Wonwoo realizes that Seungcheol is writing about him is when he hears a journal entry from that summer put to music.
And I cast a spell over the west to make you think of me The same way I think of you This is a love song in my own way
Wonwoo laughs, a quick, sharp thing. It feels like ripping open a wound. It feels like talking about something that died, something long past. Something that they can never get back. Seungcheol never said it was about him, but Wonwoo was there. Wonwoo knows everything that happened over the summer.
Two can play at this game.
Joshua gives him a strange look when he hands over the lyrics. He sings them like he’s angry, and that’s all Wonwoo wants. Really. If the way Joshua and Jeonghan look at each other is anything to go by, maybe Joshua really does understand what Wonwoo wants to say.
Put another X on the calendar, summer's on its deathbed There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends And I meant everything I said that night I will come back to life But only for you
Wonwoo wants Seungcheol to message him. Summer exists in this liminal space. Like that episode of The Twilight Zone where the man falls asleep on a train and finds the perfect town. Like no matter how hard Wonwoo tries, he will never be able to get back to that summer. He thinks about the way Seungcheol looked at him, the sun casting warm light over his profile. Wonwoo should have told him he was beautiful. He should have told him that he wanted to try to make this work.
Seungcheol had the same chance. He wonders why neither of them took it.
The years pass. Wonwoo stops making music, but Seungcheol continues on. Pain turns to fondness. It’s almost a fun game now, finding the things Seungcheol is saying to him.
If you were church, I'd get on my knees Confess my love, I'd know where to be My sanctuary, you're holy to me
Seungcheol sends him a birthday message on Twitter. Wonwoo retweets it, ignores the way his heart flips and plummets into his stomach. It’s strange. They were never together, so they never broke up. In fact, they never stopped being friends. Wonwoo waits for the day Seungcheol finally pens what Wonwoo wishes he could say.
And then it happens. The song hits Wonwoo like a physical blow. He doesn’t even know what time it is. He picks up his phone and presses Seungcheol’s name and he holds his breath long enough that he wonders what the hell he’s doing.
“Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asks, voice bleary and rough.
What if he’s halfway across the world? What is he thinking? “Maybe this is all my fault,” Wonwoo says.
“What are you—”
“Maybe you really don’t know what that summer meant to me,” Wonwoo says, cutting him off. “I’ve never stopped thinking about it. Being your friend, being…whatever we were that summer, is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I’m definitely not awake enough for this,” Seungcheol says, half a laugh escaping him. “Do you really think I’m some secret romantic? That I’ve been writing songs about you since that summer?”
Wonwoo has known Seungcheol since he was twenty years old. Decades. They’ve been friends for decades. He grins even though Seungcheol can’t see him.
“You already said you were sorry every song is about me.”
Seungcheol groans. Wonwoo starts the song again, lets the soft sound of Jeonghan’s voice carry Seungcheol’s heart straight to him.
I'll be as honest as you'll let me I miss your early morning company If you get me You are my favorite what if You are my best I'll never know And I'm starting to forget Just what summer ever meant to you What did it ever mean to you?
Maybe there’s a way to get back to that summer. If they both want it.
[Fill] This Whole Damn City Thinks It Needs You(but not as much as I do)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: rock band, emo elder nostalgia, very gentle Pete!Scoups Mikey!Wonu except i’m taking some liberties
Permission to remix: Please ask
A/N: OKAY BET
Wonwoo is twenty years old when he meets Seungcheol for the first time, though he’s always been in Wonwoo’s periphery. They both play bass. That’s what catches Wonwoo’s attention. He always pays a little more attention to the bass players, the same way Mingyu always knows who is left handed. Seungcheol is like the kid brother playing behind Jeonghan’s smooth, racy vocals. His hair is jet back and wavy, eyeliner smudged under his lashes. He’s dressed in skinny jeans and a checkered long sleeve shirt and Wonwoo can’t take his eyes off the way his hands move over the strings. There is a quiet confidence about him. A steadiness, just like the bass line he lays down. Wonwoo wonders if you can idolize your peers or if that’s just jealousy.
Wonwoo is almost shy on stage, the amped up bass shaking through his skinny frame, the lyrics he pens coming from someone else’s mouth. Joshua only gets what Wonwoo is trying to say about half the time. That’s ok. Wonwoo doesn’t want him to understand everything. He doesn’t want anyone to understand that much about him.
It isn’t until Wonwoo meets Seungcheol that lyrics start to mean anything.
They're touring on a summer festival circuit. The usual suspects fill the tents that pass for dressing rooms. Wonwoo is tracing his eyelids with liner when Seungcheol and Jeonghan walk into the tent. Jeonghan and Joshua go way back, friends of friends or something like that. They all sort of exist in the same spheres. Wonwoo knows someone who knows someone who knows the legendary Lee Jihoon. It’s all connected.
Seungcheol spots him through the mirror and grins, walking over to him with a wave.
“Wonwoo, right?” he asks. “I watched your set in Chicago. You guys really get it.”
Wonwoo fights and fails to keep the smirk off his face. “Get what?”
“The scene. You have what the girls want.” Seungcheol’s eyes meet his. “The guys, too.”
Wonwoo has to drop the pencil before he pokes his eye out. It doesn’t clatter as loudly as he wants it to. “Y-yeah? You really think so?”
Seungcheol winks. “I know so. We should hang out after the show. You know, compare notes.”
There are things that Wonwoo has been hiding that no one knows. Bisexuality is one of those things. He’s staring at Seungcheol through a grimy mirror and Seungcheol is breathtaking. He’s hot. He’s implying things that everyone in the scene says but only means for the fans. He’s gotten his hopes up a few too many times to feel this way about Seungcheol. He takes the leap anyway.
“I’d like that,” Wonwoo says.
Jeonghan calls out to Seungcheol. He nods before he walks back to the other two men. It feels like he’s run a marathon, his heart skipping in his chest. Seungcheol wants to see him after the show.
Yeah. Why not?
Here are the things they do together over the course of the summer. Seungcheol takes his jacket even though it shouldn’t be able to fit him. It does. Wonwoo spots him in it during their set and nearly misses his cue. They smoke on the balcony of their hotel and watch the sunrise. Wonwoo plays a song with them, taking over the bass part while Seungcheol wanders closer to the crowd. Something shifts, so small Wonwoo almost doesn’t notice it.
I wish you were my bass, Seungcheol says a few weeks later, typed in black letters on his journal. Not just my friend. In the picture posted above it, Seungcheol is laying on the stage, hips canted up against his instrument.
A few more weeks and Wonwoo presses Seungcheol against the hotel door and kisses him, wet and messy and frantic. It feels like something clawing its way out of him. Something he has to do while there’s still time. Or maybe before it’s too late.
Seungcheol fucks him as the rising sun spreads across the bed, blazing orange when he comes, like his entire body is on fire. Seungcheol follows right behind, their foreheads pressed together while he shakes through it. Wonwoo breathes in the air he breathes out. It feels like they are one person. They could be like this forever, Wonwoo thinks dizzily. They could keep doing this as long as they want.
The thing about summer is that it ends. The leaves change, the days shorten, the air grows cold enough to steal your breath. Seungcheol and Wonwoo part ways at the end of the festival. Of course they do. There are albums to write, tours to perform. They have so much to do and how much longer will they really be on top of the scene?
The first time Wonwoo realizes that Seungcheol is writing about him is when he hears a journal entry from that summer put to music.
And I cast a spell over the west to make you think of me
The same way I think of you
This is a love song in my own way
Wonwoo laughs, a quick, sharp thing. It feels like ripping open a wound. It feels like talking about something that died, something long past. Something that they can never get back. Seungcheol never said it was about him, but Wonwoo was there. Wonwoo knows everything that happened over the summer.
Two can play at this game.
Joshua gives him a strange look when he hands over the lyrics. He sings them like he’s angry, and that’s all Wonwoo wants. Really. If the way Joshua and Jeonghan look at each other is anything to go by, maybe Joshua really does understand what Wonwoo wants to say.
Put another X on the calendar, summer's on its deathbed
There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends
And I meant everything I said that night
I will come back to life
But only for you
Wonwoo wants Seungcheol to message him. Summer exists in this liminal space. Like that episode of The Twilight Zone where the man falls asleep on a train and finds the perfect town. Like no matter how hard Wonwoo tries, he will never be able to get back to that summer. He thinks about the way Seungcheol looked at him, the sun casting warm light over his profile. Wonwoo should have told him he was beautiful. He should have told him that he wanted to try to make this work.
Seungcheol had the same chance. He wonders why neither of them took it.
The years pass. Wonwoo stops making music, but Seungcheol continues on. Pain turns to fondness. It’s almost a fun game now, finding the things Seungcheol is saying to him.
If you were church, I'd get on my knees
Confess my love, I'd know where to be
My sanctuary, you're holy to me
Seungcheol sends him a birthday message on Twitter. Wonwoo retweets it, ignores the way his heart flips and plummets into his stomach. It’s strange. They were never together, so they never broke up. In fact, they never stopped being friends. Wonwoo waits for the day Seungcheol finally pens what Wonwoo wishes he could say.
And then it happens. The song hits Wonwoo like a physical blow. He doesn’t even know what time it is. He picks up his phone and presses Seungcheol’s name and he holds his breath long enough that he wonders what the hell he’s doing.
“Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asks, voice bleary and rough.
What if he’s halfway across the world? What is he thinking?
“Maybe this is all my fault,” Wonwoo says.
“What are you—”
“Maybe you really don’t know what that summer meant to me,” Wonwoo says, cutting him off. “I’ve never stopped thinking about it. Being your friend, being…whatever we were that summer, is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I’m definitely not awake enough for this,” Seungcheol says, half a laugh escaping him. “Do you really think I’m some secret romantic? That I’ve been writing songs about you since that summer?”
Wonwoo has known Seungcheol since he was twenty years old. Decades. They’ve been friends for decades. He grins even though Seungcheol can’t see him.
“You already said you were sorry every song is about me.”
Seungcheol groans. Wonwoo starts the song again, lets the soft sound of Jeonghan’s voice carry Seungcheol’s heart straight to him.
I'll be as honest as you'll let me
I miss your early morning company
If you get me
You are my favorite what if
You are my best I'll never know
And I'm starting to forget
Just what summer ever meant to you
What did it ever mean to you?
Maybe there’s a way to get back to that summer. If they both want it.