craving
rating: pg-13
pairings: leo/hyuk
wc: 2172
it starts and ends with tteokbokki (pseudo-sequel to bleach).
They all have their weird habits, even when it comes to sleeping -- Hakyeon likes to cuddle, Hongbin drools, Jaehwan talks (and laughs and occasionally sings) in his sleep, and Wonshik snores so damn loud that despite being exiled to the closet long ago, they can still hear him faintly through the walls on most nights. Taekwoon, for the most part, is the same: quiet and occasionally absent, although when a nosy maknae line plus Jaehwan had once asked where he disappears to -- practice room? gym? secret girlfriend's house?? -- Hakyeon had waved them off, answering for Taekwoon as he so often did that their shy main vocal just needed his "me time," now everybody shush and get in the van, we're going to be late.
Sanghyuk, with his still-growing body that doesn't seem to care what the clock says, gets food cravings, so it's not entirely surprising when he wakes up one night intending to use the bathroom and somehow ends up in the kitchen instead. He's not sure how long he's been standing there, staring at the inside of the fridge, but apparently the fridge is as unimpressed with him as he is with it, as it has yet to reveal unto him anything desirable. There's milk and eggs and leftover stewed danhobak and not much else, because even though Rock Ur Body promotions ended earlier in the week and they're technically off their diet (for now), manager-hyung hasn't gone grocery shopping yet.
Sanghyuk doesn't want milk or eggs or mushy danhobak. Sanghyuk wants microwave tteokbokki.
He closes the fridge and wobbles back to the bedroom, doing his best not to step on anything human as he wades across the row of snuffling lumps in search of his striped hoodie. He finds it half-underneath Hongbin with a sizable wet patch on the sleeve, and it takes him a few attempts to get his head through the right hole.
"'M going to the store," he announces between yawns, on the off chance that anyone is conscious enough to hear and wants to accompany him on his snack run. He gets a few grunts and one soft, mildly alarmed-sounding ottokaji?? in reply; Hakyeon mumbles something into his pillow about the power of youth as Sanghyuk steps back over him. Bypassing the snores coming from Wonshik's room completely, he shoves his bare feet into the first pair of sneakers he finds by the front door that may or may not be his.
He time travels a little again during the elevator ride between the dorm and the ground floor lobby, caught off guard when he abruptly finds himself cold and outside. He gets a lungful of brisk, end-of-winter air makes it all the way down to his toes and comes back out in white clouds. Shivering, he pulls the strings of his hoodie tighter before shoving his hands in his pockets and trotting down the steps.
The convenience store is only about four blocks away, but somehow the walk seems always seems longer at night. Whatever moonlight there might have been is obscured by a promise of morning rain, and Sanghyuk's eyes are slow to adjust to the dark. It's exactly the kind of night that Hakyeon hates being out in, Sanghyuk thinks, and he amuses himself by imagining phantom whispers and movements in the corners of his vision, evil things he can tell the scaredy-cat leader about later that would make him dread walking back from the dance studio after those 3 AM practices even more.
He rounds the corner towards the small playground where he and Jaehwan and Hongbin pretend to be ninjas sometimes. Well, he and Hongbin are ninjas; Jaehwan is always Luffy or Zoro, and the three of them chase each other backwards up the slide and across the top of the monkey bars, until Hakyeon inevitably scolds them to get down before someone falls and breaks something and they have to put promotions on hold, aigo. If it were less cold, Sanghyuk would practice his hand signs, because you never know -- maybe that mysterious figure there on the swings is an actual ghost.
(It's not a ghost, which is good because Sanghyuk somehow doubts ghosts are susceptible to Katon no jutsu. It does occurs to him, however, that there was an empty futon besides his own when he left the dorm.)
The figure on the swings is facing away and his hood is up, but Sanghyuk has spent so many hours staring at the back of Taekwoon's broad shoulders in the van that he'd recognize them anywhere, even in the dark. That Taekwoon is smoking should probably come as more of a surprise to Sanghyuk than it does. Then again, he knows it's not the first time.
And he doesn't mean to spy, he really doesn't, but Sanghyuk has a crush and his brain is still tired and that makes him even more stupidly fearless than usual. By the time it dawns on him that sneaking up on Taekwoon might not be the best idea ever, he's already inching towards him, not quite tip-toeing but careful to keep his weight off his heels when he steps onto the gravel that defines the play area, attracted by the smell that's the same now as it was back then -- back when Taekwoon was just Taekwoon and not yet Leo, and Sanghyuk was so scared of being hated by that silent hyung that he almost gave up on becoming an idol.
That was less than a year ago, yet somehow it feels like something from an entirely different lifetime. He remembers how Taekwoon and Byungjun would quietly step out during those precious free moments between practice and sleep. Even before ten was whittled down to six, Sanghyuk was still the maknae and therefore last in line for the shower; by the time the two hyungs got back to the dorm, he and Hakyeon were usually the only ones still awake to catch the lingering scent of burnt paper and carcinogens, before Taekwoon would disappear into the bathroom and Byungjun would bury his hoodie at the bottom of the laundry basket. It wasn't like others didn't know, but the company obviously frowned on the habit, and whether out of solidarity between trainees or apathy towards the competition, it was just one of those things none of them ever talked about. Or at least, no one talked about it to Sanghyuk.
Debut came and Taekwoon had (supposedly) quit, and Sanghyuk remembers feeling a kind of weird, second-hand guilt, because even though he knows it's bad for you, the image of chic, intimidating Taekwoon smoking had actually seemed pretty cool. Like T.O.P-sunbaenim's character in IRIS.
Seeing him now, Sanghyuk still thinks it's cool, although Taekwoon looks less like a super assassin and more like a delinquent in pajamas. Despite the chill, he's wearing flip flops and basketball shorts, the same ones he usually sleeps in, and Sanghyuk can see the wires of his earbuds running from his pocket of his sweatshirt -- if he listens hard, Sanghyuk can just make out the faint rapping of Verbal Jint. He holds the smoldering cigarette loosely in his left hand, elbow balanced on his knee. From behind, Sanghyuk watches the contours of his chest expand as he takes a long, slow drag.
"Hyung."
Taekwoon coughs and whips around, eyes wide, and Sanghyuk stands very, very still because even though he's gotten a lot better, he hasn't learned to read Taekwoon quite as well as Hakyeon or even Jaehwan -- if Taekwoon is alarmed or angry, or if he even recognizes Sanghyuk at that instant, because it feels a lot like Taekwoon is looking through him rather than at him.
But then Taekwoon blinks and relaxes his shoulders.
"Oh, aegi," he says, removing one of his earbuds, and Sanghyuk doesn't know whether to pout or feel relieved. He settles on a mix of the two when Taekwoon beckons him closer with a small wave, reaching up to push his hood back so he can pet the maknae's hair with his free hand. Sanghyuk is due for an appointment at the salon soon -- his perm is has settled into soft, barely-there waves and his roots are showing badly, but Taekwoon runs his fingers through it all the same; the smell of smoke is heavy on his fingertips.
(Sanghyuk has always thought that Taekwoon being ambidextrous is pretty cool, too).
They stay just like that, and Taekwoon pets and pets until he suddenly seems to remember the cigarette that's still burning away in his other hand. Or rather, was burning -- he regards the dying stub with something like annoyance, reaching down to grind it out before producing a lighter and the rest of the pack from his hoodie pocket. Sanghyuk watches with fascination as he places a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with quick, practiced movements and a shallow inhale.
"Wow," he says. Taekwoon breathes out and gives him a concerned look, followed by a different one that Sanghyuk can read well enough to understand -- you can stay as long as you're quiet. He pockets the pack, reinserts his earbuds and starts scrolling through his playlist, and Sanghyuk eagerly plops himself down in next swing over. The metal is cold enough that he hisses at the shock of it, scooting forward to the edge of the seat. He toes the gravel, lazily swinging as much as his long legs will allow without tucking them up.
"Cute," Taekwoon murmurs. Sanghyuk perks up, but the older boy falls silent again.
Sanghyuk's eyes are fully adjusted to the dark now, and he watches Taekwoon smoke -- the slow, crackling flare, the way he licks his bottom lip between drags. There are more crumpled filters in the gravel at his feet and he wonders how many are from tonight. He wonders a lot of things, actually -- if he does this every time he disappears, or just once in a while, if it's something Taekwoon does because he wants to or because it's something he needs -- but he doesn't ask, because even though Sanghyuk is greedy and wants to know everything about Taekwoon, he can be patient too. It's enough, for now, that Taekwoon let's him stay, hasn't felt the need to tell Sanghyuk to keep his secret. Not that he would tell anyway; if Hakyeon knows and hasn't made him stop (and Sanghyuk is sure he does, because Cha Hakyeon does know everything about Taekwoon and Taekwoon listens to Hakyeon), then it's not his place to say anything.
(And it's selfish, but if Taekwoon did stop, then Sanghyuk won't be able to try and sneak out to sit with him next time.)
(Maybe, though, if...)
"Hyung."
No answer, but Taekwoon does hit pause. Sanghyuk wets his lips.
"Can I try?" He asks, unsure why his voice sounds so horribly shy in his own ears, or why his palms are suddenly moist. He watches as Taekwoon hesitates mid-drag, like he's contemplating the request, and for a second Sanghyuk is hopeful... but then Taekwoon's shoulders drop, trembling with breathy, barely-there laughter, and he shakes his head.
Sanghyuk stops swinging and frowns. "Why not?"
Taekwoon looks at him with eyes like crescent moons. "Babies shouldn't smoke," he says. He takes another drag, letting the smoke curl off his tongue playfully, and Sanghyuk feels his heart drop. It's obvious he's being teased, but he can't help but feel kind of insulted anyway, even if it's true -- Sanghyuk's not an adult by law and he definitely isn't to Taekwoon, and he feels stupid for having expected anything different. Of course Taekwoon would say no. He just wishes it didn't feel quite so much like a rejection.
He kicks at the gravel, fully aware that it probably makes him seem even more childish.
"Sanghyuk-ah."
He looks up to find Taekwoon leaning over him, watches as he kills the cigarette with one quick breath before dropping the spent filter and cupping Sanghyuk's face with both hands, tilting his head up so their lips are aligned. Even compared to the night air, Taekwoon's fingertips are cool, and Sanghyuk's pulse spikes when strong thumbs smooth over his jawline.
"Breathe in," Taekwoon murmurs, syllables brushing Sanghyuk's lips, before blowing in a steady stream. Sanghyuk does, and he's glad he's sitting down because his chest and groin are both painfully tight and his head swimming long before the smoke ever hits his lungs. It's warm and slightly harsh in a way that tickles his throat, but he manages not to cough too badly, closing his eyes as a small high washes over him and keeping them closed when Taekwoon's lips graze the corner of Sanghyuk's mouth.
When he opens them, Taekwoon is running his fingers through his hair again and Sanghyuk's own hands are shaking, even though he's no longer cold. He flips his hood up with a huff and tries to look indignant. Taekwoon just smiles.
"Are you hungry?"
He's not, but Taekwoon is already walking in the direction of the convenience store and Sanghyuk has no intention of going back to sleep tonight.
(The tteokbokki is good, even if Sanghyuk has a craving for something entirely different now.)
pairings: leo/hyuk
wc: 2172
it starts and ends with tteokbokki (pseudo-sequel to bleach).
They all have their weird habits, even when it comes to sleeping -- Hakyeon likes to cuddle, Hongbin drools, Jaehwan talks (and laughs and occasionally sings) in his sleep, and Wonshik snores so damn loud that despite being exiled to the closet long ago, they can still hear him faintly through the walls on most nights. Taekwoon, for the most part, is the same: quiet and occasionally absent, although when a nosy maknae line plus Jaehwan had once asked where he disappears to -- practice room? gym? secret girlfriend's house?? -- Hakyeon had waved them off, answering for Taekwoon as he so often did that their shy main vocal just needed his "me time," now everybody shush and get in the van, we're going to be late.
Sanghyuk, with his still-growing body that doesn't seem to care what the clock says, gets food cravings, so it's not entirely surprising when he wakes up one night intending to use the bathroom and somehow ends up in the kitchen instead. He's not sure how long he's been standing there, staring at the inside of the fridge, but apparently the fridge is as unimpressed with him as he is with it, as it has yet to reveal unto him anything desirable. There's milk and eggs and leftover stewed danhobak and not much else, because even though Rock Ur Body promotions ended earlier in the week and they're technically off their diet (for now), manager-hyung hasn't gone grocery shopping yet.
Sanghyuk doesn't want milk or eggs or mushy danhobak. Sanghyuk wants microwave tteokbokki.
He closes the fridge and wobbles back to the bedroom, doing his best not to step on anything human as he wades across the row of snuffling lumps in search of his striped hoodie. He finds it half-underneath Hongbin with a sizable wet patch on the sleeve, and it takes him a few attempts to get his head through the right hole.
"'M going to the store," he announces between yawns, on the off chance that anyone is conscious enough to hear and wants to accompany him on his snack run. He gets a few grunts and one soft, mildly alarmed-sounding ottokaji?? in reply; Hakyeon mumbles something into his pillow about the power of youth as Sanghyuk steps back over him. Bypassing the snores coming from Wonshik's room completely, he shoves his bare feet into the first pair of sneakers he finds by the front door that may or may not be his.
He time travels a little again during the elevator ride between the dorm and the ground floor lobby, caught off guard when he abruptly finds himself cold and outside. He gets a lungful of brisk, end-of-winter air makes it all the way down to his toes and comes back out in white clouds. Shivering, he pulls the strings of his hoodie tighter before shoving his hands in his pockets and trotting down the steps.
The convenience store is only about four blocks away, but somehow the walk seems always seems longer at night. Whatever moonlight there might have been is obscured by a promise of morning rain, and Sanghyuk's eyes are slow to adjust to the dark. It's exactly the kind of night that Hakyeon hates being out in, Sanghyuk thinks, and he amuses himself by imagining phantom whispers and movements in the corners of his vision, evil things he can tell the scaredy-cat leader about later that would make him dread walking back from the dance studio after those 3 AM practices even more.
He rounds the corner towards the small playground where he and Jaehwan and Hongbin pretend to be ninjas sometimes. Well, he and Hongbin are ninjas; Jaehwan is always Luffy or Zoro, and the three of them chase each other backwards up the slide and across the top of the monkey bars, until Hakyeon inevitably scolds them to get down before someone falls and breaks something and they have to put promotions on hold, aigo. If it were less cold, Sanghyuk would practice his hand signs, because you never know -- maybe that mysterious figure there on the swings is an actual ghost.
(It's not a ghost, which is good because Sanghyuk somehow doubts ghosts are susceptible to Katon no jutsu. It does occurs to him, however, that there was an empty futon besides his own when he left the dorm.)
The figure on the swings is facing away and his hood is up, but Sanghyuk has spent so many hours staring at the back of Taekwoon's broad shoulders in the van that he'd recognize them anywhere, even in the dark. That Taekwoon is smoking should probably come as more of a surprise to Sanghyuk than it does. Then again, he knows it's not the first time.
And he doesn't mean to spy, he really doesn't, but Sanghyuk has a crush and his brain is still tired and that makes him even more stupidly fearless than usual. By the time it dawns on him that sneaking up on Taekwoon might not be the best idea ever, he's already inching towards him, not quite tip-toeing but careful to keep his weight off his heels when he steps onto the gravel that defines the play area, attracted by the smell that's the same now as it was back then -- back when Taekwoon was just Taekwoon and not yet Leo, and Sanghyuk was so scared of being hated by that silent hyung that he almost gave up on becoming an idol.
That was less than a year ago, yet somehow it feels like something from an entirely different lifetime. He remembers how Taekwoon and Byungjun would quietly step out during those precious free moments between practice and sleep. Even before ten was whittled down to six, Sanghyuk was still the maknae and therefore last in line for the shower; by the time the two hyungs got back to the dorm, he and Hakyeon were usually the only ones still awake to catch the lingering scent of burnt paper and carcinogens, before Taekwoon would disappear into the bathroom and Byungjun would bury his hoodie at the bottom of the laundry basket. It wasn't like others didn't know, but the company obviously frowned on the habit, and whether out of solidarity between trainees or apathy towards the competition, it was just one of those things none of them ever talked about. Or at least, no one talked about it to Sanghyuk.
Debut came and Taekwoon had (supposedly) quit, and Sanghyuk remembers feeling a kind of weird, second-hand guilt, because even though he knows it's bad for you, the image of chic, intimidating Taekwoon smoking had actually seemed pretty cool. Like T.O.P-sunbaenim's character in IRIS.
Seeing him now, Sanghyuk still thinks it's cool, although Taekwoon looks less like a super assassin and more like a delinquent in pajamas. Despite the chill, he's wearing flip flops and basketball shorts, the same ones he usually sleeps in, and Sanghyuk can see the wires of his earbuds running from his pocket of his sweatshirt -- if he listens hard, Sanghyuk can just make out the faint rapping of Verbal Jint. He holds the smoldering cigarette loosely in his left hand, elbow balanced on his knee. From behind, Sanghyuk watches the contours of his chest expand as he takes a long, slow drag.
"Hyung."
Taekwoon coughs and whips around, eyes wide, and Sanghyuk stands very, very still because even though he's gotten a lot better, he hasn't learned to read Taekwoon quite as well as Hakyeon or even Jaehwan -- if Taekwoon is alarmed or angry, or if he even recognizes Sanghyuk at that instant, because it feels a lot like Taekwoon is looking through him rather than at him.
But then Taekwoon blinks and relaxes his shoulders.
"Oh, aegi," he says, removing one of his earbuds, and Sanghyuk doesn't know whether to pout or feel relieved. He settles on a mix of the two when Taekwoon beckons him closer with a small wave, reaching up to push his hood back so he can pet the maknae's hair with his free hand. Sanghyuk is due for an appointment at the salon soon -- his perm is has settled into soft, barely-there waves and his roots are showing badly, but Taekwoon runs his fingers through it all the same; the smell of smoke is heavy on his fingertips.
(Sanghyuk has always thought that Taekwoon being ambidextrous is pretty cool, too).
They stay just like that, and Taekwoon pets and pets until he suddenly seems to remember the cigarette that's still burning away in his other hand. Or rather, was burning -- he regards the dying stub with something like annoyance, reaching down to grind it out before producing a lighter and the rest of the pack from his hoodie pocket. Sanghyuk watches with fascination as he places a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with quick, practiced movements and a shallow inhale.
"Wow," he says. Taekwoon breathes out and gives him a concerned look, followed by a different one that Sanghyuk can read well enough to understand -- you can stay as long as you're quiet. He pockets the pack, reinserts his earbuds and starts scrolling through his playlist, and Sanghyuk eagerly plops himself down in next swing over. The metal is cold enough that he hisses at the shock of it, scooting forward to the edge of the seat. He toes the gravel, lazily swinging as much as his long legs will allow without tucking them up.
"Cute," Taekwoon murmurs. Sanghyuk perks up, but the older boy falls silent again.
Sanghyuk's eyes are fully adjusted to the dark now, and he watches Taekwoon smoke -- the slow, crackling flare, the way he licks his bottom lip between drags. There are more crumpled filters in the gravel at his feet and he wonders how many are from tonight. He wonders a lot of things, actually -- if he does this every time he disappears, or just once in a while, if it's something Taekwoon does because he wants to or because it's something he needs -- but he doesn't ask, because even though Sanghyuk is greedy and wants to know everything about Taekwoon, he can be patient too. It's enough, for now, that Taekwoon let's him stay, hasn't felt the need to tell Sanghyuk to keep his secret. Not that he would tell anyway; if Hakyeon knows and hasn't made him stop (and Sanghyuk is sure he does, because Cha Hakyeon does know everything about Taekwoon and Taekwoon listens to Hakyeon), then it's not his place to say anything.
(And it's selfish, but if Taekwoon did stop, then Sanghyuk won't be able to try and sneak out to sit with him next time.)
(Maybe, though, if...)
"Hyung."
No answer, but Taekwoon does hit pause. Sanghyuk wets his lips.
"Can I try?" He asks, unsure why his voice sounds so horribly shy in his own ears, or why his palms are suddenly moist. He watches as Taekwoon hesitates mid-drag, like he's contemplating the request, and for a second Sanghyuk is hopeful... but then Taekwoon's shoulders drop, trembling with breathy, barely-there laughter, and he shakes his head.
Sanghyuk stops swinging and frowns. "Why not?"
Taekwoon looks at him with eyes like crescent moons. "Babies shouldn't smoke," he says. He takes another drag, letting the smoke curl off his tongue playfully, and Sanghyuk feels his heart drop. It's obvious he's being teased, but he can't help but feel kind of insulted anyway, even if it's true -- Sanghyuk's not an adult by law and he definitely isn't to Taekwoon, and he feels stupid for having expected anything different. Of course Taekwoon would say no. He just wishes it didn't feel quite so much like a rejection.
He kicks at the gravel, fully aware that it probably makes him seem even more childish.
"Sanghyuk-ah."
He looks up to find Taekwoon leaning over him, watches as he kills the cigarette with one quick breath before dropping the spent filter and cupping Sanghyuk's face with both hands, tilting his head up so their lips are aligned. Even compared to the night air, Taekwoon's fingertips are cool, and Sanghyuk's pulse spikes when strong thumbs smooth over his jawline.
"Breathe in," Taekwoon murmurs, syllables brushing Sanghyuk's lips, before blowing in a steady stream. Sanghyuk does, and he's glad he's sitting down because his chest and groin are both painfully tight and his head swimming long before the smoke ever hits his lungs. It's warm and slightly harsh in a way that tickles his throat, but he manages not to cough too badly, closing his eyes as a small high washes over him and keeping them closed when Taekwoon's lips graze the corner of Sanghyuk's mouth.
When he opens them, Taekwoon is running his fingers through his hair again and Sanghyuk's own hands are shaking, even though he's no longer cold. He flips his hood up with a huff and tries to look indignant. Taekwoon just smiles.
"Are you hungry?"
He's not, but Taekwoon is already walking in the direction of the convenience store and Sanghyuk has no intention of going back to sleep tonight.
(The tteokbokki is good, even if Sanghyuk has a craving for something entirely different now.)