[Fic] Flight Log: Departure (Autopilot, Collision) [Chapter 4]
Title: Flight Log: Departure (Autopilot, Collision)
Pairing(S): Youngjae/Yugyeom
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: Cadet!AU as Youngjae and Yugyeom enter the program and meet one another.
A/N: Sooo basically I had promised a Yugjae fic and never delivered and when Fly came out I started this but left it alone until the sudden pressure from the announcement of Flight Log: Turbulence reminded me that this fic still lived in my hard drive....
The more that Youngjae dwells upon his thoughts, the more he finds himself lost--as if his mind was quicksand and sooner or later he’ll sink below and suffocate to his death. He’s lost within the labyrinth of his own contemplations, holding out his heart as he walks down the path. It palpitates in his hold, warm blood staining his palm and dripping to the grounds below. He looks at the vermillion organ, expression contorting in perplexion. “What do you desire?” He asks. His heart simply beats again, muscle constricting as electric signals run through the chamber walls. There’s a sound behind him and he turns around abruptly to see the walls of the maze meld into a dead end. The weight in his hand seems to increase, becoming a burden in his grasp as he makes his way through the maze. Behind him are trails of crimson, marking his journey. He wonders if he should let go, place the organ on the ground while he continues walking--chest empty and hands free.
Youngjae looks to his right, catching sight of Yugyeom’s side profile. He settles the textbook on the table, shaking the weight of it off as he props his elbows on the surface of his desk. “Yugyeom-ah,” he calls out.
“Hmm?” The younger male hums halfheartedly in reply.
“I have something to ask you.”
“Okay,” Yugyeom says, marking the points on his graph.
“Say...you wanted something for a very long time,” Youngjae rests his head on one hand, vaguely gesturing with the other, “but you then realize that what you wanted doesn’t turn out to be what you wanted. What do you then?”
“Are you saying you don’t want it anymore? Or just that it wasn’t what you wanted?”
“A bit of both.” He says, “Or maybe just that what you wanted for all this time wasn’t what you actually wanted.”
“Hyung,” Yugyeom puts down his pencil with a thud, “You’re turning philosophical on me.”
“Am I?” He asks idly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind the other’s ear.
“Mmh,” Yugyeom responds, shifting his chair closer to the older male. “The heart desires what the heart desires--but maybe what it desires isn’t what is best.”
Youngjae laughs bitterly, turning away from Yugyeom’s gaze. He feels as if he’s underestimated the other’s ability to read between the lines--being attacked when he’s the most vulnerable. “Maybe,” he responds, ending the conversation as he returns to the black and white text of his course book. Yugyeom’s gaze stays on him, bright eyes following his movements before dimming into an amorphous kohl. Youngjae wonders if the other boy could hear the thundering of his heartbeat--can see the red seeping through the white of his shirt.
Red, the colour of desire--of love, of passion, of anger.
The lights blink red as the warning signal goes off, alarm sounding in the small space. Youngjae wipes his hands on the side of his pants, looking sheepishly at their instructor. The simulation application blinks in error in front of him, plane moving through thunder clouds. He grimaces as he watches the older male mark off points on the report. Repositioning his grip on the yoke, he takes a deep breath before trying to steer off on the correct road.
“If this wasn’t a simulation, do you know what you would’ve gotten yourself into?”
“Yes,” He mutters with a dejected sigh. He knows well enough.
By the time he leaves the simpit, the sky outside has already darkened. He looks at the small drops of rain on the window, the wind swaying the trees outside. The roaring of the wind only reminds him too much of the airplane engine. The rain, simply reminds him of what happened just moments before. Prodding down the stairs, he leaves the practice room dragging his feet on the ground.
He thinks about what their instructor has asked him. If it hadn’t been just a simulation test, what would have happened. He doesn’t want to fathom the thought, shaking the what-ifs and could-have’s out of his mind. Mark gives him a curious look as he enters the room with his consciousness hanging in mid-air. He only shakes his head and plops down on his bed, pulling his blankets around him.
“Tired?” Mark asks. He hums softly, nodding his head in reply. The older male leaves his desk, turning off the light and opening the lamp instead. “Go to bed and rest well then.” Youngjae watches with wide eyes as Mark walks back to his desk, flipping through pages of notes. The warm glow of the table lamp seems to burn his eyes--reminding him too much of Icarus and the sun. Where everything in a single moment melted and let him fall to the crashing waves below.
He wonders, if he really falls, who would be there to catch him.
Would it be the asphalt of paved grounds, the roaring waves of the sea, or would it be the flesh and bones of a human. He closes his eyes, orange light burning behind his eyelids as he slowly falls into the world of slumber. The rain continues outside, thunder rolling and lightning flashing. He dreams of someone that night, though he can’t see clearly who--but he wakes up the next day remembering doe-like eyes and a tightening grip around his wrist.
“What are you afraid of?” The boy asks. Youngjae doesn’t answer, looking off into the horizon. “I’m happy, are you?” The boy asks again, voice vaguely reminding Youngjae of someone but he doesn’t recall.
“I don’t know.” He responds nonchalantly. “I don’t know.”
Pairing(S): Youngjae/Yugyeom
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: Cadet!AU as Youngjae and Yugyeom enter the program and meet one another.
A/N: Sooo basically I had promised a Yugjae fic and never delivered and when Fly came out I started this but left it alone until the sudden pressure from the announcement of Flight Log: Turbulence reminded me that this fic still lived in my hard drive....
The more that Youngjae dwells upon his thoughts, the more he finds himself lost--as if his mind was quicksand and sooner or later he’ll sink below and suffocate to his death. He’s lost within the labyrinth of his own contemplations, holding out his heart as he walks down the path. It palpitates in his hold, warm blood staining his palm and dripping to the grounds below. He looks at the vermillion organ, expression contorting in perplexion. “What do you desire?” He asks. His heart simply beats again, muscle constricting as electric signals run through the chamber walls. There’s a sound behind him and he turns around abruptly to see the walls of the maze meld into a dead end. The weight in his hand seems to increase, becoming a burden in his grasp as he makes his way through the maze. Behind him are trails of crimson, marking his journey. He wonders if he should let go, place the organ on the ground while he continues walking--chest empty and hands free.
Youngjae looks to his right, catching sight of Yugyeom’s side profile. He settles the textbook on the table, shaking the weight of it off as he props his elbows on the surface of his desk. “Yugyeom-ah,” he calls out.
“Hmm?” The younger male hums halfheartedly in reply.
“I have something to ask you.”
“Okay,” Yugyeom says, marking the points on his graph.
“Say...you wanted something for a very long time,” Youngjae rests his head on one hand, vaguely gesturing with the other, “but you then realize that what you wanted doesn’t turn out to be what you wanted. What do you then?”
“Are you saying you don’t want it anymore? Or just that it wasn’t what you wanted?”
“A bit of both.” He says, “Or maybe just that what you wanted for all this time wasn’t what you actually wanted.”
“Hyung,” Yugyeom puts down his pencil with a thud, “You’re turning philosophical on me.”
“Am I?” He asks idly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind the other’s ear.
“Mmh,” Yugyeom responds, shifting his chair closer to the older male. “The heart desires what the heart desires--but maybe what it desires isn’t what is best.”
Youngjae laughs bitterly, turning away from Yugyeom’s gaze. He feels as if he’s underestimated the other’s ability to read between the lines--being attacked when he’s the most vulnerable. “Maybe,” he responds, ending the conversation as he returns to the black and white text of his course book. Yugyeom’s gaze stays on him, bright eyes following his movements before dimming into an amorphous kohl. Youngjae wonders if the other boy could hear the thundering of his heartbeat--can see the red seeping through the white of his shirt.
Red, the colour of desire--of love, of passion, of anger.
The lights blink red as the warning signal goes off, alarm sounding in the small space. Youngjae wipes his hands on the side of his pants, looking sheepishly at their instructor. The simulation application blinks in error in front of him, plane moving through thunder clouds. He grimaces as he watches the older male mark off points on the report. Repositioning his grip on the yoke, he takes a deep breath before trying to steer off on the correct road.
“If this wasn’t a simulation, do you know what you would’ve gotten yourself into?”
“Yes,” He mutters with a dejected sigh. He knows well enough.
By the time he leaves the simpit, the sky outside has already darkened. He looks at the small drops of rain on the window, the wind swaying the trees outside. The roaring of the wind only reminds him too much of the airplane engine. The rain, simply reminds him of what happened just moments before. Prodding down the stairs, he leaves the practice room dragging his feet on the ground.
He thinks about what their instructor has asked him. If it hadn’t been just a simulation test, what would have happened. He doesn’t want to fathom the thought, shaking the what-ifs and could-have’s out of his mind. Mark gives him a curious look as he enters the room with his consciousness hanging in mid-air. He only shakes his head and plops down on his bed, pulling his blankets around him.
“Tired?” Mark asks. He hums softly, nodding his head in reply. The older male leaves his desk, turning off the light and opening the lamp instead. “Go to bed and rest well then.” Youngjae watches with wide eyes as Mark walks back to his desk, flipping through pages of notes. The warm glow of the table lamp seems to burn his eyes--reminding him too much of Icarus and the sun. Where everything in a single moment melted and let him fall to the crashing waves below.
He wonders, if he really falls, who would be there to catch him.
Would it be the asphalt of paved grounds, the roaring waves of the sea, or would it be the flesh and bones of a human. He closes his eyes, orange light burning behind his eyelids as he slowly falls into the world of slumber. The rain continues outside, thunder rolling and lightning flashing. He dreams of someone that night, though he can’t see clearly who--but he wakes up the next day remembering doe-like eyes and a tightening grip around his wrist.
“What are you afraid of?” The boy asks. Youngjae doesn’t answer, looking off into the horizon. “I’m happy, are you?” The boy asks again, voice vaguely reminding Youngjae of someone but he doesn’t recall.
“I don’t know.” He responds nonchalantly. “I don’t know.”