california nights (minseok/luhan)
title: california nights
pairing: broken!minseok/luhan
rating: pg
warnings: implied drug use, sans beta
summary: luhan leaves and minseok thinks he can run after him, wherever he is.
a/n: some scenes allude to the effects of smoking weed. (for unactivist.)
this was literally a word vomit caused by my repressed xiuhan feelings.
Minseok’s nights were meant for speeding down empty highways, feeling the cold desert wind on his hair. In here, he can be who he wants to be - he’s free.
Until he meets Luhan and Minseok finds his world has shattered, but just a little bit.
---
Luhan’s fingers are warm against Minseok’s cold cheeks, the latter shivering visibly from his touch. It’s three in the morning and Luhan can’t seem to explain why he can’t sleep. Minseok curls into a fetal position, facing away from Luhan, groaning softly as if to ward away what’s keeping him awake.
Without warning, Luhan takes the chance to move closer to Minseok. Draping one arm over Minseok’s waist, Luhan leans his forehead on his nape.
“Do you have to leave?” The way Minseok’s voice grows soft while they’re in such a spacious room gets Luhan sighing in remorse.
“I’m sorry.”
Whenever Minseok would ask Luhan why he has to leave, or where he needs to go, just to see if he has any chance of accompanying him, the other would pull back. He’d always pull back, afraid to answer any of Minseok’s seemingly intrusive queries. It’s not that Luhan insists on hiding the truth from Minseok, but there must be an underlying sense of fear that overwhelms Luhan, that which keeps him from revealing anything.
Minseok’s breathing remains deep, almost as if he’s gone back to sleep without letting Luhan know. After all, he’ll be gone by the break of dawn - why should he prolong the pain?
What Luhan doesn’t know, however, is that Minseok is still awake. Their fingers interlaced so slightly it almost felt like a brush during a rash movement.
The bed dips, and Luhan is gone.
---
Minseok finds himself on the helm of his Ford convertible, running at almost 140km/h in the middle of a desert road. It’s late at night and Minseok isn’t too sure where he’s headed. The radio’s left unused from the lack of a decent signal in the area. All Minseok can think of however, is the sound of Luhan’s voice. It rings in his ears almost too distinctively, begging to be noticed.
“You’re mine.”
It’s been a good two months since Luhan walked away from him that evening. That was the last time they shared a bed together and Luhan whispered his goodbyes before setting off somewhere, alone.
“You’re mine.”
It seemed like a promise that was too good to be true. Minseok blindly held on to that claim until it slipped away from his grasp without him even realizing it.
“You’re mine.”
It felt like the rug he was standing on had been pulled from underneath him. The pain that comes upon him is only a physical representation of the pain he feels in his chest right at this moment.
Hearing it the third time wasn’t any different from the first. Was it to affirm the truth in the statement, Minseok isn’t too sure. At this point, he has no way of asking Luhan that very question; he doubts the other might be able to give him a definite answer, either.
How long does he have to withstand this pain? Two months doesn’t cut it; the wounds are still as fresh as the first day he felt them on his skin. For a while his mind drifts from focusing on the empty road before him and thinks about just how much pain one person can handle before they lose it.
How many times can I break ‘til I shatter?
The train of thought ends and everything is static. Nothing has changed except for him.
pairing: broken!minseok/luhan
rating: pg
warnings: implied drug use, sans beta
summary: luhan leaves and minseok thinks he can run after him, wherever he is.
a/n: some scenes allude to the effects of smoking weed. (for unactivist.)
this was literally a word vomit caused by my repressed xiuhan feelings.
Minseok’s nights were meant for speeding down empty highways, feeling the cold desert wind on his hair. In here, he can be who he wants to be - he’s free.
Until he meets Luhan and Minseok finds his world has shattered, but just a little bit.
---
Luhan’s fingers are warm against Minseok’s cold cheeks, the latter shivering visibly from his touch. It’s three in the morning and Luhan can’t seem to explain why he can’t sleep. Minseok curls into a fetal position, facing away from Luhan, groaning softly as if to ward away what’s keeping him awake.
Without warning, Luhan takes the chance to move closer to Minseok. Draping one arm over Minseok’s waist, Luhan leans his forehead on his nape.
“Do you have to leave?” The way Minseok’s voice grows soft while they’re in such a spacious room gets Luhan sighing in remorse.
“I’m sorry.”
Whenever Minseok would ask Luhan why he has to leave, or where he needs to go, just to see if he has any chance of accompanying him, the other would pull back. He’d always pull back, afraid to answer any of Minseok’s seemingly intrusive queries. It’s not that Luhan insists on hiding the truth from Minseok, but there must be an underlying sense of fear that overwhelms Luhan, that which keeps him from revealing anything.
Minseok’s breathing remains deep, almost as if he’s gone back to sleep without letting Luhan know. After all, he’ll be gone by the break of dawn - why should he prolong the pain?
What Luhan doesn’t know, however, is that Minseok is still awake. Their fingers interlaced so slightly it almost felt like a brush during a rash movement.
The bed dips, and Luhan is gone.
---
Minseok finds himself on the helm of his Ford convertible, running at almost 140km/h in the middle of a desert road. It’s late at night and Minseok isn’t too sure where he’s headed. The radio’s left unused from the lack of a decent signal in the area. All Minseok can think of however, is the sound of Luhan’s voice. It rings in his ears almost too distinctively, begging to be noticed.
“You’re mine.”
It’s been a good two months since Luhan walked away from him that evening. That was the last time they shared a bed together and Luhan whispered his goodbyes before setting off somewhere, alone.
“You’re mine.”
It seemed like a promise that was too good to be true. Minseok blindly held on to that claim until it slipped away from his grasp without him even realizing it.
“You’re mine.”
It felt like the rug he was standing on had been pulled from underneath him. The pain that comes upon him is only a physical representation of the pain he feels in his chest right at this moment.
Hearing it the third time wasn’t any different from the first. Was it to affirm the truth in the statement, Minseok isn’t too sure. At this point, he has no way of asking Luhan that very question; he doubts the other might be able to give him a definite answer, either.
How long does he have to withstand this pain? Two months doesn’t cut it; the wounds are still as fresh as the first day he felt them on his skin. For a while his mind drifts from focusing on the empty road before him and thinks about just how much pain one person can handle before they lose it.
How many times can I break ‘til I shatter?
The train of thought ends and everything is static. Nothing has changed except for him.