The Last Stop
Title: The Last Stop
Pairing: CNU/Gongchan
Rating: PG-13
Lenght: Oneshot, 1,228
Summary: Chansik always gets off at the last stop...
A/N: Beta-ed by the great kiccy
The Last Stop
Chansik thinks this is just going to be another ordinary day.
The stations are slowly passing, and soon most of the passengers have emptied the wagon that was crowded just minutes ago. The young boy stares at the map he’s already seen millions of times- he’s just 5 stops away from home.
Even though there are plenty of open seats he still prefers standing as his gaze shifts across see-through glass, and he notes the lights which are passing by so quickly that they are nothing but a blur of color.
Sometimes Chansik likes dreaming- about far-away places, and princesses that need to be rescued, and of course about magic subways. And usually by the end of his journey they have mixed with reality.
Sometimes he likes observing.
Tidy businessmen- always with the newest newspaper- looking all stern and serious- though behind their frowns Chansik finds hidden smiles and obvious affections, and it’s all most probably in the way their eyes shine whenever they receive a call- a call from home.
High school boys and girls- just like him- with skirts an inch too shorts, shirts a button too open, and smiles a mile too broad. He doesn’t like comparing, so he doesn’t look (at his own uniform that’s perfectly ironed and tucked in, and his face that mirrors their blank stares) that much.
Mothers and grandmothers- with bags full of groceries, and eyes full of concern. With dresses sometimes flowery and sometimes plain, but with hands calloused from cooking and cleaning and raising. With wrinkles left from laughs and worries and just life overall.
His favorite passengers are the kids. With small, lithe bodies tired from never-ending games, with eyes full of wonder, and smiles full of envy when they understand Chansik’s getting off at the last stop.
Because there’s just something so magical about that.
“Hey, aren’t you going to sit down?”
His voice is warm, friendly with just the tiniest hint of concern and curiosity. Chansik’s two stops away from home, and there’s nobody else in the wagon.
He doesn’t realize when he starts dreaming of knights in shining armors with calm voices and round spectacles.
††††††††††
“Hey kid now aren’t you a handsome one?”
“Oh, what’s wrong? Did mommy’s boy get scared?”
Their voices easily get lost in the noise of the crowd. He tries handling them the usual way. He ignores and endures and waits for them to get off. Somewhere between stop number 5 and stop number 10 he’s already been elbowed, bruised, and his shirt hangs lowered and messy.
He’s still noiseless, and the people around them just play the same game of ignorance. But as the wagon gets emptier and emptier Chansik realizes they probably wouldn’t hesitate to follow him even after he gets off the subway.
A sudden surge of fear makes its way to the surface of his face, but before they can notice it, Chansik finds out that sometimes dreams can mirror reality.
“It’s already time for both of you to leave him alone.”
“And what’s it in for you?”
Their tone is challenging, but now when it’s two against two, he sees the slight doubt hidden away at the corner of their eyes. The monotone sound of the next stop being announced cuts through the tense atmosphere, and the bullies suddenly decide that this is where they get off. Then Chansik finally shifts his gaze back on his savior (his knight).
God he swears he can’t concentrate with all of those nagging voices at the back of his mind.
“Are you alright?”
“His voice is still the same”- Chansik thinks offhandedly, but on the outside he’s only nodding.
The boy who’s standing just a few steps away sends him a skeptical smile and he moves.
Chansik just might check his stomach, because he has the nagging feelings that there are flowers growing in it. Because as long as it concerns him, flowers and butterflies go together.
Long fingers are tucking his shirt back in and touching his injuries gingerly. Chansik swears he’s hearing giggles and laughs, and feeling prying eyes on him. Except he’s two stops away from home, and they’re the only people in the wagon.
“I’m Dongwoo by the way”
††††††††††
Chansik quickly learns that Dongwoo hyung’s a naturally kind, yet a little bit clumsy person. But it’s in moments like these when the last stop seems so far away- with the millions of people all around him, and his hyung’s body heat enveloping him from all sides- that he doesn’t mind even if Dongwoo half-trips and lands on him.
Chansik no longer dreams- because this reality is better than any kind of delusion.
He thinks happiness is everywhere, and he can’t help but scold himself for being such a girl. The nagging voices are still there too.
Because he doesn’t mind being a princess as long as Dongwoo can be his prince.
Their hands brush and their feet are all tangled up from the constants sharp breaks. Chansik swears at (thanks a million times) the driver.
Chansik loves the rush hours for more than one reason he couldn’t, shouldn’t admit. But he loves times like these more. When he’s two stops away from home (and two steps away from him) and it’s only the both of them in the wagon. And Dongwoo hyung is subtle, oh so subtle, about the accidental touches, but it’s the way his closed eyes scrunch up behind round frames, and the way his voice wavers when he says he’s tired.
Chansik thinks there’s a whole botanic garden growing in his stomach. And every smile, every brush, every word- they plant a new seed within him. He doesn’t know what he’s afraid of more.
Slow withering or unstoppable overgrowing.
He’s confused and afraid, and he can’t help but look around. Because Chansik has never thought that something like this could happen. And it’s the eyes that are always expectant, and the smiles that hide disgust that make his mind scream:
“No, I can’t”
But the voices- those voices- have been getting a lot more powerful, and they reassure him:
“It’s no big deal”
He doesn’t know which to believe, and seconds later Dongwoo hyung is once again crashing against him. People are complaining everywhere and are looking around for lost bags, kids, glasses, hats. Nobody really notices his smirk and the way Chansik flares up. And then he leans in and whispers, and he doesn’t stop until they reach his stop. Chansik (Channie) continues hearing those sweet nothings for long after.
But Dongwoo hyung doesn’t show up for long after either, so it’s alright.
Withering it is (painfully slow).
But it’s almost two months later, two stops before home, and there’s just the two of them in the wagon. And one rose.
Chansik doesn’t mind being the princess after all.
†††††††††
The girls are giggling, and there’s just that sparkle in their eyes.
“Oppas, when are you getting off?”
“At the last stop.”
And it’s the way their lips meet for the briefest of kisses. The kids are still there, and they blush and smile and shoot them small toothless grins. There are frowns, and whispers of “disgusting”, but there are wistful sighs, and words that sound like flowers and butterflies and unspoken promises.
“Young love.”
And in the end there’s just something so magical about getting off at the last stop.
Well, as long as you’re not alone.
Pairing: CNU/Gongchan
Rating: PG-13
Lenght: Oneshot, 1,228
Summary: Chansik always gets off at the last stop...
A/N: Beta-ed by the great kiccy
The Last Stop
Chansik thinks this is just going to be another ordinary day.
The stations are slowly passing, and soon most of the passengers have emptied the wagon that was crowded just minutes ago. The young boy stares at the map he’s already seen millions of times- he’s just 5 stops away from home.
Even though there are plenty of open seats he still prefers standing as his gaze shifts across see-through glass, and he notes the lights which are passing by so quickly that they are nothing but a blur of color.
Sometimes Chansik likes dreaming- about far-away places, and princesses that need to be rescued, and of course about magic subways. And usually by the end of his journey they have mixed with reality.
Sometimes he likes observing.
Tidy businessmen- always with the newest newspaper- looking all stern and serious- though behind their frowns Chansik finds hidden smiles and obvious affections, and it’s all most probably in the way their eyes shine whenever they receive a call- a call from home.
High school boys and girls- just like him- with skirts an inch too shorts, shirts a button too open, and smiles a mile too broad. He doesn’t like comparing, so he doesn’t look (at his own uniform that’s perfectly ironed and tucked in, and his face that mirrors their blank stares) that much.
Mothers and grandmothers- with bags full of groceries, and eyes full of concern. With dresses sometimes flowery and sometimes plain, but with hands calloused from cooking and cleaning and raising. With wrinkles left from laughs and worries and just life overall.
His favorite passengers are the kids. With small, lithe bodies tired from never-ending games, with eyes full of wonder, and smiles full of envy when they understand Chansik’s getting off at the last stop.
Because there’s just something so magical about that.
“Hey, aren’t you going to sit down?”
His voice is warm, friendly with just the tiniest hint of concern and curiosity. Chansik’s two stops away from home, and there’s nobody else in the wagon.
He doesn’t realize when he starts dreaming of knights in shining armors with calm voices and round spectacles.
††††††††††
“Hey kid now aren’t you a handsome one?”
“Oh, what’s wrong? Did mommy’s boy get scared?”
Their voices easily get lost in the noise of the crowd. He tries handling them the usual way. He ignores and endures and waits for them to get off. Somewhere between stop number 5 and stop number 10 he’s already been elbowed, bruised, and his shirt hangs lowered and messy.
He’s still noiseless, and the people around them just play the same game of ignorance. But as the wagon gets emptier and emptier Chansik realizes they probably wouldn’t hesitate to follow him even after he gets off the subway.
A sudden surge of fear makes its way to the surface of his face, but before they can notice it, Chansik finds out that sometimes dreams can mirror reality.
“It’s already time for both of you to leave him alone.”
“And what’s it in for you?”
Their tone is challenging, but now when it’s two against two, he sees the slight doubt hidden away at the corner of their eyes. The monotone sound of the next stop being announced cuts through the tense atmosphere, and the bullies suddenly decide that this is where they get off. Then Chansik finally shifts his gaze back on his savior (his knight).
God he swears he can’t concentrate with all of those nagging voices at the back of his mind.
“Are you alright?”
“His voice is still the same”- Chansik thinks offhandedly, but on the outside he’s only nodding.
The boy who’s standing just a few steps away sends him a skeptical smile and he moves.
Chansik just might check his stomach, because he has the nagging feelings that there are flowers growing in it. Because as long as it concerns him, flowers and butterflies go together.
Long fingers are tucking his shirt back in and touching his injuries gingerly. Chansik swears he’s hearing giggles and laughs, and feeling prying eyes on him. Except he’s two stops away from home, and they’re the only people in the wagon.
“I’m Dongwoo by the way”
††††††††††
Chansik quickly learns that Dongwoo hyung’s a naturally kind, yet a little bit clumsy person. But it’s in moments like these when the last stop seems so far away- with the millions of people all around him, and his hyung’s body heat enveloping him from all sides- that he doesn’t mind even if Dongwoo half-trips and lands on him.
Chansik no longer dreams- because this reality is better than any kind of delusion.
He thinks happiness is everywhere, and he can’t help but scold himself for being such a girl. The nagging voices are still there too.
Because he doesn’t mind being a princess as long as Dongwoo can be his prince.
Their hands brush and their feet are all tangled up from the constants sharp breaks. Chansik swears at (thanks a million times) the driver.
Chansik loves the rush hours for more than one reason he couldn’t, shouldn’t admit. But he loves times like these more. When he’s two stops away from home (and two steps away from him) and it’s only the both of them in the wagon. And Dongwoo hyung is subtle, oh so subtle, about the accidental touches, but it’s the way his closed eyes scrunch up behind round frames, and the way his voice wavers when he says he’s tired.
Chansik thinks there’s a whole botanic garden growing in his stomach. And every smile, every brush, every word- they plant a new seed within him. He doesn’t know what he’s afraid of more.
Slow withering or unstoppable overgrowing.
He’s confused and afraid, and he can’t help but look around. Because Chansik has never thought that something like this could happen. And it’s the eyes that are always expectant, and the smiles that hide disgust that make his mind scream:
“No, I can’t”
But the voices- those voices- have been getting a lot more powerful, and they reassure him:
“It’s no big deal”
He doesn’t know which to believe, and seconds later Dongwoo hyung is once again crashing against him. People are complaining everywhere and are looking around for lost bags, kids, glasses, hats. Nobody really notices his smirk and the way Chansik flares up. And then he leans in and whispers, and he doesn’t stop until they reach his stop. Chansik (Channie) continues hearing those sweet nothings for long after.
But Dongwoo hyung doesn’t show up for long after either, so it’s alright.
Withering it is (painfully slow).
But it’s almost two months later, two stops before home, and there’s just the two of them in the wagon. And one rose.
Chansik doesn’t mind being the princess after all.
†††††††††
The girls are giggling, and there’s just that sparkle in their eyes.
“Oppas, when are you getting off?”
“At the last stop.”
And it’s the way their lips meet for the briefest of kisses. The kids are still there, and they blush and smile and shoot them small toothless grins. There are frowns, and whispers of “disgusting”, but there are wistful sighs, and words that sound like flowers and butterflies and unspoken promises.
“Young love.”
And in the end there’s just something so magical about getting off at the last stop.
Well, as long as you’re not alone.