vixx: the plunge
Title: the plunge
Pairing: Ravi/Hyuk
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Different is good, and Sanghyuk is different.
“Are you alright?”
Sanghyuk doesn’t know how to answer. Wonsik can tell. He’s sitting forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, and his teeth dug into his bottom lip. The controller in his hand is gripped tight, and he’s not looking at Wonsik even though he paused their game without warning.
There are two options: a yes -- the immediate option, what Sanghyuk will probably say -- but there’s also the underlying one, the one that makes Wonsik worry -- a no. It’s too bad Wonsik’s worrying anyway.
Sanghyuk glances over to Wonsik. “’Course I am.” He’s making a strange face. Pinched. Telling. He doesn’t wear secrets well, Wonsik’s found. He’s not very good at faking anything.
But he’s still not used to all of Sanghyuk’s quirks, and reading him is like reading a book with pages missing. Especially in moments like now. He’s not well-versed on what to do with an upset Han Sanghyuk, and he’s toeing around in unknown territory.
The younger puts his controller between them on the couch. He has a hand squeezed into a fist and he begins to hit it against his knee in a rhythmic pattern. He looks bothered enough that Wonsik feels safe asking, “You wanna talk about it? About what happened last night?”
Sanghyuk’s fist doesn’t stop, and his eyes look strange, but he answers, “Not really. They weren’t even my friends. Doesn’t matter to me.”
Wonsik decides to trust him on that. “So what is bothering you?”
Sanghyuk came over to Wonsik’s apartment in the afternoon, looking damp as he had when he left the previous night. Like his normal radiancy was muted, a wet blanket dousing the storage of happiness and oddities inside him. Wonsik thought games would cheer him up, but they’re halfway through this campaign, and Sanghyuk’s character has bit it four times (Wonsik has to keep reviving him with healing packs.) Wonsik knows something is definitely wrong because Sanghyuk sucking at this game worse than him is an unheard of tragedy.
“It’s dumb.”
Wonsik is trying to find a way to get into Sanghyuk’s problems, but he’s always been relatively bad at this. Emotion makes him itchy. Like he has to do something, react, rather than sit and listen. He rubs his arm. “You sure it wasn’t because of the--”
“No.” Sanghyuk shakes his head. His fist turns flat into a grip on his knee. “Well, maybe because of them I started thinking about it, but….” Sanghyuk is perched on the couch like he’s waiting to run. He’s silent for a long time before a very quiet, “Are you happy? With me?”
Last night Sanghyuk and Wonsik had ventured into the world to find food. Food ended up being a last-minute decision on unhealthiness and standing in line at the closest fast food restaurant. They’d been perfectly fine and minding their own business when the people behind them in line happened to recognize Sanghyuk. His old high school teammates. They had snickered at him and made less than polite comments about his and Wonsik’s hand-holding, and Sanghyuk had made less than polite comments back.
“Look who’s out the closet. The little virgin’s grown up.”
Wonsik wasn’t pleased with standing there and just listening to the commentary behind them, but the squeeze of Sanghyuk’s hand, the slight shake of his head, was the only reason Wonsik stayed quiet. Once out with their food, Sanghyuk laughed it off before Wonsik could even ask.
And here they are almost a full twenty-four hours later.
“Why wouldn’t I be happy with you?”
Sanghyuk shrugs again.
“Sanghyuk,” Wonsik says as gently as he can. He has a bad habit of fumbling with his words too much, letting his own emotions over-ride what he wants to say. Emotion makes him itchy. So, as if he’s coaxing out a frightened animal, Wonsik tells him, “Talk to me. It’s alright.”
Sanghyuk begins to pound his knee again. “I haven’t been in a relationship before.”
And Wonsik knows that. Sanghyuk’s told him before, and it’s a little obvious, but it’s not like Wonsik’s some sort master of relationships either.
“I just,” Sanghyuk licks his lips, “think that I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know. This is stupid. I’m stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.”
Sanghyuk turns his eyes to him. He’s wearing a disdainful look. He’s low in his feelings. Wonsik, fingers slow, reaches out to touch the side of his face. As Sanghyuk glances down at his fingers, the pretty downturn of Sanghyuk’s lashes, pretty crescents, becomes visible. He’s watching those fingers that are creeping to his hair, like they’re a trick, and Wonsik almost feels hurt at that.
Almsot.
Except that he knows what it’s like to be in Sanghyuk’s shoes. He once looked at someone like that. Like this can’t be real -- happening, current. That was ages ago. Teenager days. But Sanghyuk is just on the edge of his teen years, and this is his first real relationship.
And he’s confused right now.
Reaching over, Wonsik takes the jittery fist. He holds it in his. “Are you second-guessing?” Us? This? Me? Antsy -- he’s getting antsy.
“No.” The answer’s immediacy, the forcefulness of it, takes Wonsik by surprise a bit. Reassures him a lot. Sanghyuk has a grip on his hand that doesn’t release pressure. It keeps getting tighter, and there isn’t any indication that Sanghyuk’s aware of it. “I just don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m embarrassing myself.”
Wonsik knows it’s taking a lot for Sanghyuk to admit this. “How so?”
Sanghyuk’s teeth are in his lip. “I did some Facebook lurking….”
“Oh, god.” Wonsik’s thinking of the half-drunk status updates from college, the embarrassing and improper use of outdated memes. He no longer posts on there, but he still has an account. He never thought of Sanghyuk looking through his profile.
“I- I’m nothing like him.”
Wonsik realizes how hard Sanghyuk’s holding his hand. He knows what he found, the previous two and a half years of his life, and Wonsik says carefully, “Jaehwan is Jaehwan. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore. I don’t want you to be him.”
It’s been awhile since Wonsik’s gone through his own profile, but now that he knows this is what must be bothering Sanghyuk, he tries to imagine what it’d be like to stumble on all that. He and Jaehwan were a force, and unfortunately, they were very into flaunting it online. And Jaehwan isn’t Sanghyuk at all.
Sanghyuk’s gaze is guilty -- shouldn’t have delved, shouldn’t be feeling bad, shouldn’t have brought this up -- but he doesn’t say sorry. Wonsik’s glad; he doesn’t want that either. Sanghyuk’s staring at him like he doesn’t know what to say next, how to forget that he said anything probably, but Wonsik beats him to speaking first.
He adjusts his position so that he’s sitting facing Sanghyuk’s side. He wants to be clear. “You’re Sanghyuk.” And he moves in to press his lips to Sanghyuk’s cheek, where he touched earlier. It’s chaste; it’s feeling; he hopes it communicates all that he wants Sanghyuk to know. The younger’s eyes are intent on him. Looking for the hopeful answer to his fears.
Wonsik grins, hands holding his boyfriend’s. “And you’re the one that makes me happy.”
Wonsik isn’t sure about the blind date Hakyeon’s arranged for him. “It’s been months since Jaehwan’s moved out.” A euphemism for moved on. “But you’re still moping around. Meet new people. Meet Sanghyuk. He’s nice and great.” Wonsik replays his friend’s words in his head the whole time as he’s readying himself.
The breakup was mutual. They’re friends still on every social media site, so Wonsik was quite aware when Jaehwan picked up a new boyfriend to take on his ride to his new university transfer, great things ahead of him. And Wonsik isn’t bitter. He can’t deny that it’s probably better this way. Being friends is their best option. They were friends before, and they can be friends again.
But the romantic in him is wounded.
(Unfortunately (or fortunately), Hakyeon neglected to tell Wonsik that Sanghyuk was new to dating, new to being out, and “forgot” to let Sanghyuk know that he was walking into a date with a human shape of a recovering broken heart.)
Wonsik takes in Sanghyuk across the table. He’s young. Going into his second year of university in the fall. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, and his haircut is nice -- blond on top and dark undercut. His eyes are pretty. Earnest looks to be part of his outfit; it’s all over his face.
Wonsik wonders if Sanghyuk sees in Wonsik all that he sees in him. College drop-out. That he ran out of the house in this outfit as a last-minute decision. That he’s dated before but it’s been awhile since he then. That he’s not sure about Sanghyuk at all.
But Sanghyuk is charming. Nervous but funny. Entertaining with just enough weird to keep Wonsik guessing. “Hakyeon told me to ask you about your taste in music if I wanted this to be successful.” Sanghyuk smiles at him. He’s cute. “So. Top ten songs on your phone or iPod. We gotta compare.”
And for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s having fun.
They’ve eaten together five total times before Wonsik asks Sanghyuk to be his boyfriend. He’s waiting on pins and needles for a response when Sanghyuk tells him, “I don’t know if this will change anything, but I’ve never dated before.” He’s licking his ice cream cone. It’s running down his hand.
They’re standing outside in the park -- well, Wonsik is standing and Sanghyuk’s sitting on the back of a bench, feet where his butt should be. Wonsik, surprised at his words, feels his cone start to drip onto his hand as well. He hastily licks it up. “Really?”
Sanghyuk nods. A little flushed maybe but that could be the orange evening glow of the sun on his face.
Wonsik’s surprised but it makes sense. Sanghyuk seems a little innocent in some ways. Not humor-wise, but not knowing protocol for their dinner dates. If they can hand-hold. If they both pay or if Sanghyuk pays or who pays. His eyes absorb everything, like he’s learning the whole time. But Sanghyuk’s the type of person Wonsik expected to already have a little history -- he’s attractive and charming -- and chalked all the rest up to him being awkward.
“I,” Sanghyuk says, “am actually just on my way out of the closet.” He grimaces a little. “I- I know how some people feel about dating someone like me. Experimentation and all.” Sanghyuk wipes his mouth with his second hand. He’s getting ice cream everywhere. He’s jiggling his knee. “But this isn’t that. I really like you, which is why I’ve been putting off telling you.”
Sanghyuk’s right. If Wonsik knew beforehand, he probably would’ve bypassed his blind date with Sanghyuk. Not because he wouldn’t want to give Sanghyuk the benefit of the doubt, but because Wonsik would do it out of self-preservation. He’s still sore even if his time with Sanghyuk has greatly taken the edge off.
But he appreciates honesty more than his fear of heartbreak.
Sanghyuk’s face is expectant (of the worst?), and he has a ring of melted ice cream around the lips. He looks sticky. Wonsik looks at him in a new light, decides that the kiss he wants to plant on Sanghyuk’s lips should be dialed back to something gentler. He asks, “Sanghyuk?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Sanghyuk nods profusely and lets Wonsik touch his lips to his. It’s brief and short, but Sanghyuk’s cheeks are now definitely pink, and he’s grinning when they break apart. He grins up at Wonsik. “Does this mean I get to hold your hand?”
In the coming months, Wonsik is made aware just how different Sanghyuk is from Jaehwan, however, different isn’t a synonym for bad. Wonsik, where he used to cling to his old boyfriend, was the more physical one. Jaehwan was coy and alluring. Wanting and subtle.
Sanghyuk might as well be the opposite.
Wonsik, slung over Sanghyuk’s shoulder, has never experienced something that is quite like the whirlwind that is Sanghyuk. He’s decided that Sanghyuk’s emptying out all his eagerness into their relationship. He’s just come through Wonsik’s door and swept Wonsik up in this Neanderthal-esque style. Wonsik, seeing only where they’ve been and not where they’re going, kicks his feet when he realizes where they’re headed. Far too late to be effective.
Sanghyuk slams him down onto his bed. “And he scores!”
Wonsik’s sure he doesn’t mean for this to be a sexual allusion so he rolls over with a wheeze and ignores him. This is the end of their third month together, and Wonsik’s not looking to sex Sanghyuk up. Sanghyuk hasn’t broached the subject, and they’ve only really made out a few times here and there. Sanghyuk’s still working on kissing while breathing.
“You need to be gentle with me,” Wonsik bemoans. “I’m an old man.”
“No you’re not.” Sanghyuk has the…most adorable eye-smile with rounded cheeks and a dorky grin; it’s an expression that gets Wonsik to smile with him every time. Wonsik ducks his face into the comforter.
Sanghyuk is fit with strong arms and back. Wonsik’s felt the muscles shift under his skin in the times that they end up cuddling on his couch during a movie or watching TV. A lot of times they situate themselves so Wonsik’s in the circle of Sanghyuk’s legs. He’s the slighter one, and it’s more comfortable for Sanghyuk this way. Wonsik isn’t used to being the smaller spoon on such a regular basis. It’s different.
And Wonsik is becoming more and more sure that this different isn’t bad.
Sanghyuk takes the initiative to kiss him -- really kiss him -- one night after a party at Hakyeon’s. They’re in Hakyeon’s backyard behind the shadow of a tree, and Sanghyuk has Wonsik backed up into this tree, bark digging into his back and shoes slipping on the roots. Sanghyuk’s hips are pressed into his, and Wonsik knows his shirt is riding up. He tries to tug it down when Sanghyuk offers a hand to the skin, stroking it lightly.
This is their fifth month together, and this is the first time Wonsik’s blood has pounded through him with his much intensity, this heated. Because of Sanghyuk’s kisses.
Sanghyuk has him pressed in a way that makes him feel small. There’s a thrill in him that he’s receiving this much affection in such a receptive way. That it’s him pressed against this tree. That these are Sanghyuk’s hands on him, exploring, finding out what he wants to know.
Touch him here, and he shudders like this.
Kiss him here, and he gasps like that.
Sanghyuk’s looking at him like he’s interesting, like he’s plunging into something unknown. Diving off a cliff. His lips are on Wonsik’s, moving and working in such a way that indicates there’s no rush here. They’re not at Hakyeon’s. They’re in a world of their own. And Wonsik feels like that as he’s encased in the bracket of Sanghyuk’s arms.
Sanghyuk’s wet lips travel. They’re on Wonsik’s neck, mouthing at the skin, and time has certainly had him forget this sensation. Wonsik has goosebumps on his arms as he’s starting to sweat. His hands, once on Sanghyuk’s shoulders, are on his hips to keep them tight against him. Sanghyuk only seems spurred by this reciprocation.
Sanghyuk asks, “Is this…okay?”
“More than okay.”
Wonsik can hear himself, and it sounds needier when he’s gasping out the sweat-chilled words. But Sanghyuk doesn’t say anything about it. He’s not looking to tease, not meanly at least. Because the kisses he’s putting on Wonsik, deep and coursing with fire, never linger in a spot for too long and Wonsik is growing more and more desperate. He can feel his body pressing harder, rolling a little into Sanghyuk’s.
He’s doing his best to control himself. He and Sanghyuk have never talked about boundaries -- if there are any or if this is just a path they’re traveling. If this is a path, then they’ve been walking this whole time. Wonsik’s not sure what pace this is, but when he grinds into Sanghyuk, and Sanghyuk feels him like that, he realizes that it’s too much.
Sanghyuk freezes.
“S- Sorry.” Wonsik can’t see Sanghyuk’s expression as his face is hovering by his ear, but soon Sanghyuk pulls back a little. It’s like all his confidence has been stunted back into fumbling inexperience. Which. It probably has. Wonsik grimaces. Sanghyuk seemed ready for more, to do more, but that doesn’t mean he is. Fearing he’s messed it up, Wonsik amends, “I should’ve asked--”
“It’s alright.” Sanghyuk leans his face onto Wonsik’s shoulder. He lets out sigh full of shudders. “I just don’t think…. Not tonight.”
“That’s fine.”
Voice small: “We should’ve talked about this before now.”
Wonsik reaches up to put his hands on Sanghyuk’s back rather than the hips. He holds him close. “Yeah.” He breathes him in. Sanghyuk’s after-shave is familiar at this point, a comfort. On this night, while holding him so close, Wonsik fully realizes how his heart is stitching itself to Sanghyuk’s. The part of him that was hurt before has latched on. Sanghyuk isn’t a replacement, a stand-in, but rather an addition, an improvement to his life that was looking bleak on his own.
He’s attracted to Sanghyuk, but what he feels now…this is different.
And different isn’t bad. Not at all.
Two weeks later, and they were standing in the fast-food line. Two weeks later, and Wonsik is coming to find out that Sanghyuk’s been questioning himself this whole time. Two weeks later and they are on Wonsik’s couch, and Wonsik is determined to reassure this bright boy.
Sanghyuk blinks at him. “I make you happy?”
Wonsik smiles. “If you made me sad, I think we’d be having a different conversation.” He pauses. “Do I make you happy?”
The younger’s nod is a beautiful thing. He sighs in relief. But there’s something Sanghyuk feels like he has to say, Wonsik thinks he can gather that much from the way he keeps biting at his lips. Wonsik encourages, “You can tell me. Tell me, Sanghyuk.”
“It doesn’t bother me that you’re still friends; that’s not it. It’s just that…what if you get tired of me? I really like you, and I’m just…s- scared that one day he’ll come back, and I won’t be able to be--” his voice fades, and he mouths the word yours. Like he can’t say it out loud.
Wonsik, more sure than he’s ever been, shares eye contact to deliver these words with importance. “Jaehwan and I are much better as friends. The more that time passes, and I’m not,” Wonsik’s talking slow to pick what he says, “with him like that, I remember the reasons why we’re not together anymore. I like him a lot, but it’s not the same. It’s different from the way that I like you.”
“Different?”
“It’s a good thing.”
Sanghyuk finally looks a little less droopy, but he inappropriately celebrates this with smashing his palms into his eyes. “God, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Pulling his hands from his eyes, Wonsik chuckles. “That’s alright.”
“I feel like I should be doing more.”
“More, what?”
Sanghyuk throws his large frame against the couch with a shockwave that could have knocked Wonsik off if he hadn’t been holding onto him. “I don’t know.” He won’t look at Wonsik. “You have more experience anyway.”
They aren’t talking about dating anymore. Rather one of the fine points, the fine point that they didn’t get into two weeks ago at Hakyeon’s party. Wonsik’s quick to say, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not doing anything you’re not ready for.” You’re setting this pace.
“I always think I am, but….” Sanghyuk’s gaze is focused on the ceiling. “I don’t know.”
Wonsik scoots forward to wrap an arm around Sanghyuk’s shoulders and have his second hand curl into Sanghyuk’s hair. He looks better than he did a few minutes ago. Looks much more comfortable and eager for this closeness. “Don’t stress about it,” Wonsik tells him, wanting him to believe him. He leans his head on his shoulder. Breathes in Sanghyuk’s scent. “I like just being with you.”
Sanghyuk pushes at Wonsik’s chest. These are half-hearted as he could fling Wonsik across the room if he wanted. “Ugh, don’t be cheesy.”
But they’re both laughing, and Wonsik feels like he’s done a good job. His beating heart resembles something of a timpani drum, quick thumps trapped in the cage of his ribs. Almost six months going, and he feels like love again.
Their game is waiting, so they untangle themselves to pick up their controllers and get back to their on-screen infiltration. Sanghyuk’s performance is much better, and he even manages to start taking care of Wonsik’s dying character with teasing quips. “Is that the best you can do?” He’s laughing a little, and Wonsik doesn’t even care about the circumstances. Sanghyuk seems to be feeling better.
They sit shoulder-to-shoulder, Sanghyuk occasionally reaching over to peck his cheek each time he has to revive him, and Wonsik tells himself that this is love; he’s in love.
a/n: [disclaimer] jhwn wasn't a bad boyf they just didn't work out haaaa… sorry jhwn.
Pairing: Ravi/Hyuk
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Different is good, and Sanghyuk is different.
“Are you alright?”
Sanghyuk doesn’t know how to answer. Wonsik can tell. He’s sitting forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, and his teeth dug into his bottom lip. The controller in his hand is gripped tight, and he’s not looking at Wonsik even though he paused their game without warning.
There are two options: a yes -- the immediate option, what Sanghyuk will probably say -- but there’s also the underlying one, the one that makes Wonsik worry -- a no. It’s too bad Wonsik’s worrying anyway.
Sanghyuk glances over to Wonsik. “’Course I am.” He’s making a strange face. Pinched. Telling. He doesn’t wear secrets well, Wonsik’s found. He’s not very good at faking anything.
But he’s still not used to all of Sanghyuk’s quirks, and reading him is like reading a book with pages missing. Especially in moments like now. He’s not well-versed on what to do with an upset Han Sanghyuk, and he’s toeing around in unknown territory.
The younger puts his controller between them on the couch. He has a hand squeezed into a fist and he begins to hit it against his knee in a rhythmic pattern. He looks bothered enough that Wonsik feels safe asking, “You wanna talk about it? About what happened last night?”
Sanghyuk’s fist doesn’t stop, and his eyes look strange, but he answers, “Not really. They weren’t even my friends. Doesn’t matter to me.”
Wonsik decides to trust him on that. “So what is bothering you?”
Sanghyuk came over to Wonsik’s apartment in the afternoon, looking damp as he had when he left the previous night. Like his normal radiancy was muted, a wet blanket dousing the storage of happiness and oddities inside him. Wonsik thought games would cheer him up, but they’re halfway through this campaign, and Sanghyuk’s character has bit it four times (Wonsik has to keep reviving him with healing packs.) Wonsik knows something is definitely wrong because Sanghyuk sucking at this game worse than him is an unheard of tragedy.
“It’s dumb.”
Wonsik is trying to find a way to get into Sanghyuk’s problems, but he’s always been relatively bad at this. Emotion makes him itchy. Like he has to do something, react, rather than sit and listen. He rubs his arm. “You sure it wasn’t because of the--”
“No.” Sanghyuk shakes his head. His fist turns flat into a grip on his knee. “Well, maybe because of them I started thinking about it, but….” Sanghyuk is perched on the couch like he’s waiting to run. He’s silent for a long time before a very quiet, “Are you happy? With me?”
Last night Sanghyuk and Wonsik had ventured into the world to find food. Food ended up being a last-minute decision on unhealthiness and standing in line at the closest fast food restaurant. They’d been perfectly fine and minding their own business when the people behind them in line happened to recognize Sanghyuk. His old high school teammates. They had snickered at him and made less than polite comments about his and Wonsik’s hand-holding, and Sanghyuk had made less than polite comments back.
“Look who’s out the closet. The little virgin’s grown up.”
Wonsik wasn’t pleased with standing there and just listening to the commentary behind them, but the squeeze of Sanghyuk’s hand, the slight shake of his head, was the only reason Wonsik stayed quiet. Once out with their food, Sanghyuk laughed it off before Wonsik could even ask.
And here they are almost a full twenty-four hours later.
“Why wouldn’t I be happy with you?”
Sanghyuk shrugs again.
“Sanghyuk,” Wonsik says as gently as he can. He has a bad habit of fumbling with his words too much, letting his own emotions over-ride what he wants to say. Emotion makes him itchy. So, as if he’s coaxing out a frightened animal, Wonsik tells him, “Talk to me. It’s alright.”
Sanghyuk begins to pound his knee again. “I haven’t been in a relationship before.”
And Wonsik knows that. Sanghyuk’s told him before, and it’s a little obvious, but it’s not like Wonsik’s some sort master of relationships either.
“I just,” Sanghyuk licks his lips, “think that I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know. This is stupid. I’m stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.”
Sanghyuk turns his eyes to him. He’s wearing a disdainful look. He’s low in his feelings. Wonsik, fingers slow, reaches out to touch the side of his face. As Sanghyuk glances down at his fingers, the pretty downturn of Sanghyuk’s lashes, pretty crescents, becomes visible. He’s watching those fingers that are creeping to his hair, like they’re a trick, and Wonsik almost feels hurt at that.
Almsot.
Except that he knows what it’s like to be in Sanghyuk’s shoes. He once looked at someone like that. Like this can’t be real -- happening, current. That was ages ago. Teenager days. But Sanghyuk is just on the edge of his teen years, and this is his first real relationship.
And he’s confused right now.
Reaching over, Wonsik takes the jittery fist. He holds it in his. “Are you second-guessing?” Us? This? Me? Antsy -- he’s getting antsy.
“No.” The answer’s immediacy, the forcefulness of it, takes Wonsik by surprise a bit. Reassures him a lot. Sanghyuk has a grip on his hand that doesn’t release pressure. It keeps getting tighter, and there isn’t any indication that Sanghyuk’s aware of it. “I just don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m embarrassing myself.”
Wonsik knows it’s taking a lot for Sanghyuk to admit this. “How so?”
Sanghyuk’s teeth are in his lip. “I did some Facebook lurking….”
“Oh, god.” Wonsik’s thinking of the half-drunk status updates from college, the embarrassing and improper use of outdated memes. He no longer posts on there, but he still has an account. He never thought of Sanghyuk looking through his profile.
“I- I’m nothing like him.”
Wonsik realizes how hard Sanghyuk’s holding his hand. He knows what he found, the previous two and a half years of his life, and Wonsik says carefully, “Jaehwan is Jaehwan. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore. I don’t want you to be him.”
It’s been awhile since Wonsik’s gone through his own profile, but now that he knows this is what must be bothering Sanghyuk, he tries to imagine what it’d be like to stumble on all that. He and Jaehwan were a force, and unfortunately, they were very into flaunting it online. And Jaehwan isn’t Sanghyuk at all.
Sanghyuk’s gaze is guilty -- shouldn’t have delved, shouldn’t be feeling bad, shouldn’t have brought this up -- but he doesn’t say sorry. Wonsik’s glad; he doesn’t want that either. Sanghyuk’s staring at him like he doesn’t know what to say next, how to forget that he said anything probably, but Wonsik beats him to speaking first.
He adjusts his position so that he’s sitting facing Sanghyuk’s side. He wants to be clear. “You’re Sanghyuk.” And he moves in to press his lips to Sanghyuk’s cheek, where he touched earlier. It’s chaste; it’s feeling; he hopes it communicates all that he wants Sanghyuk to know. The younger’s eyes are intent on him. Looking for the hopeful answer to his fears.
Wonsik grins, hands holding his boyfriend’s. “And you’re the one that makes me happy.”
Wonsik isn’t sure about the blind date Hakyeon’s arranged for him. “It’s been months since Jaehwan’s moved out.” A euphemism for moved on. “But you’re still moping around. Meet new people. Meet Sanghyuk. He’s nice and great.” Wonsik replays his friend’s words in his head the whole time as he’s readying himself.
The breakup was mutual. They’re friends still on every social media site, so Wonsik was quite aware when Jaehwan picked up a new boyfriend to take on his ride to his new university transfer, great things ahead of him. And Wonsik isn’t bitter. He can’t deny that it’s probably better this way. Being friends is their best option. They were friends before, and they can be friends again.
But the romantic in him is wounded.
(Unfortunately (or fortunately), Hakyeon neglected to tell Wonsik that Sanghyuk was new to dating, new to being out, and “forgot” to let Sanghyuk know that he was walking into a date with a human shape of a recovering broken heart.)
Wonsik takes in Sanghyuk across the table. He’s young. Going into his second year of university in the fall. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, and his haircut is nice -- blond on top and dark undercut. His eyes are pretty. Earnest looks to be part of his outfit; it’s all over his face.
Wonsik wonders if Sanghyuk sees in Wonsik all that he sees in him. College drop-out. That he ran out of the house in this outfit as a last-minute decision. That he’s dated before but it’s been awhile since he then. That he’s not sure about Sanghyuk at all.
But Sanghyuk is charming. Nervous but funny. Entertaining with just enough weird to keep Wonsik guessing. “Hakyeon told me to ask you about your taste in music if I wanted this to be successful.” Sanghyuk smiles at him. He’s cute. “So. Top ten songs on your phone or iPod. We gotta compare.”
And for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s having fun.
They’ve eaten together five total times before Wonsik asks Sanghyuk to be his boyfriend. He’s waiting on pins and needles for a response when Sanghyuk tells him, “I don’t know if this will change anything, but I’ve never dated before.” He’s licking his ice cream cone. It’s running down his hand.
They’re standing outside in the park -- well, Wonsik is standing and Sanghyuk’s sitting on the back of a bench, feet where his butt should be. Wonsik, surprised at his words, feels his cone start to drip onto his hand as well. He hastily licks it up. “Really?”
Sanghyuk nods. A little flushed maybe but that could be the orange evening glow of the sun on his face.
Wonsik’s surprised but it makes sense. Sanghyuk seems a little innocent in some ways. Not humor-wise, but not knowing protocol for their dinner dates. If they can hand-hold. If they both pay or if Sanghyuk pays or who pays. His eyes absorb everything, like he’s learning the whole time. But Sanghyuk’s the type of person Wonsik expected to already have a little history -- he’s attractive and charming -- and chalked all the rest up to him being awkward.
“I,” Sanghyuk says, “am actually just on my way out of the closet.” He grimaces a little. “I- I know how some people feel about dating someone like me. Experimentation and all.” Sanghyuk wipes his mouth with his second hand. He’s getting ice cream everywhere. He’s jiggling his knee. “But this isn’t that. I really like you, which is why I’ve been putting off telling you.”
Sanghyuk’s right. If Wonsik knew beforehand, he probably would’ve bypassed his blind date with Sanghyuk. Not because he wouldn’t want to give Sanghyuk the benefit of the doubt, but because Wonsik would do it out of self-preservation. He’s still sore even if his time with Sanghyuk has greatly taken the edge off.
But he appreciates honesty more than his fear of heartbreak.
Sanghyuk’s face is expectant (of the worst?), and he has a ring of melted ice cream around the lips. He looks sticky. Wonsik looks at him in a new light, decides that the kiss he wants to plant on Sanghyuk’s lips should be dialed back to something gentler. He asks, “Sanghyuk?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Sanghyuk nods profusely and lets Wonsik touch his lips to his. It’s brief and short, but Sanghyuk’s cheeks are now definitely pink, and he’s grinning when they break apart. He grins up at Wonsik. “Does this mean I get to hold your hand?”
In the coming months, Wonsik is made aware just how different Sanghyuk is from Jaehwan, however, different isn’t a synonym for bad. Wonsik, where he used to cling to his old boyfriend, was the more physical one. Jaehwan was coy and alluring. Wanting and subtle.
Sanghyuk might as well be the opposite.
Wonsik, slung over Sanghyuk’s shoulder, has never experienced something that is quite like the whirlwind that is Sanghyuk. He’s decided that Sanghyuk’s emptying out all his eagerness into their relationship. He’s just come through Wonsik’s door and swept Wonsik up in this Neanderthal-esque style. Wonsik, seeing only where they’ve been and not where they’re going, kicks his feet when he realizes where they’re headed. Far too late to be effective.
Sanghyuk slams him down onto his bed. “And he scores!”
Wonsik’s sure he doesn’t mean for this to be a sexual allusion so he rolls over with a wheeze and ignores him. This is the end of their third month together, and Wonsik’s not looking to sex Sanghyuk up. Sanghyuk hasn’t broached the subject, and they’ve only really made out a few times here and there. Sanghyuk’s still working on kissing while breathing.
“You need to be gentle with me,” Wonsik bemoans. “I’m an old man.”
“No you’re not.” Sanghyuk has the…most adorable eye-smile with rounded cheeks and a dorky grin; it’s an expression that gets Wonsik to smile with him every time. Wonsik ducks his face into the comforter.
Sanghyuk is fit with strong arms and back. Wonsik’s felt the muscles shift under his skin in the times that they end up cuddling on his couch during a movie or watching TV. A lot of times they situate themselves so Wonsik’s in the circle of Sanghyuk’s legs. He’s the slighter one, and it’s more comfortable for Sanghyuk this way. Wonsik isn’t used to being the smaller spoon on such a regular basis. It’s different.
And Wonsik is becoming more and more sure that this different isn’t bad.
Sanghyuk takes the initiative to kiss him -- really kiss him -- one night after a party at Hakyeon’s. They’re in Hakyeon’s backyard behind the shadow of a tree, and Sanghyuk has Wonsik backed up into this tree, bark digging into his back and shoes slipping on the roots. Sanghyuk’s hips are pressed into his, and Wonsik knows his shirt is riding up. He tries to tug it down when Sanghyuk offers a hand to the skin, stroking it lightly.
This is their fifth month together, and this is the first time Wonsik’s blood has pounded through him with his much intensity, this heated. Because of Sanghyuk’s kisses.
Sanghyuk has him pressed in a way that makes him feel small. There’s a thrill in him that he’s receiving this much affection in such a receptive way. That it’s him pressed against this tree. That these are Sanghyuk’s hands on him, exploring, finding out what he wants to know.
Touch him here, and he shudders like this.
Kiss him here, and he gasps like that.
Sanghyuk’s looking at him like he’s interesting, like he’s plunging into something unknown. Diving off a cliff. His lips are on Wonsik’s, moving and working in such a way that indicates there’s no rush here. They’re not at Hakyeon’s. They’re in a world of their own. And Wonsik feels like that as he’s encased in the bracket of Sanghyuk’s arms.
Sanghyuk’s wet lips travel. They’re on Wonsik’s neck, mouthing at the skin, and time has certainly had him forget this sensation. Wonsik has goosebumps on his arms as he’s starting to sweat. His hands, once on Sanghyuk’s shoulders, are on his hips to keep them tight against him. Sanghyuk only seems spurred by this reciprocation.
Sanghyuk asks, “Is this…okay?”
“More than okay.”
Wonsik can hear himself, and it sounds needier when he’s gasping out the sweat-chilled words. But Sanghyuk doesn’t say anything about it. He’s not looking to tease, not meanly at least. Because the kisses he’s putting on Wonsik, deep and coursing with fire, never linger in a spot for too long and Wonsik is growing more and more desperate. He can feel his body pressing harder, rolling a little into Sanghyuk’s.
He’s doing his best to control himself. He and Sanghyuk have never talked about boundaries -- if there are any or if this is just a path they’re traveling. If this is a path, then they’ve been walking this whole time. Wonsik’s not sure what pace this is, but when he grinds into Sanghyuk, and Sanghyuk feels him like that, he realizes that it’s too much.
Sanghyuk freezes.
“S- Sorry.” Wonsik can’t see Sanghyuk’s expression as his face is hovering by his ear, but soon Sanghyuk pulls back a little. It’s like all his confidence has been stunted back into fumbling inexperience. Which. It probably has. Wonsik grimaces. Sanghyuk seemed ready for more, to do more, but that doesn’t mean he is. Fearing he’s messed it up, Wonsik amends, “I should’ve asked--”
“It’s alright.” Sanghyuk leans his face onto Wonsik’s shoulder. He lets out sigh full of shudders. “I just don’t think…. Not tonight.”
“That’s fine.”
Voice small: “We should’ve talked about this before now.”
Wonsik reaches up to put his hands on Sanghyuk’s back rather than the hips. He holds him close. “Yeah.” He breathes him in. Sanghyuk’s after-shave is familiar at this point, a comfort. On this night, while holding him so close, Wonsik fully realizes how his heart is stitching itself to Sanghyuk’s. The part of him that was hurt before has latched on. Sanghyuk isn’t a replacement, a stand-in, but rather an addition, an improvement to his life that was looking bleak on his own.
He’s attracted to Sanghyuk, but what he feels now…this is different.
And different isn’t bad. Not at all.
Two weeks later, and they were standing in the fast-food line. Two weeks later, and Wonsik is coming to find out that Sanghyuk’s been questioning himself this whole time. Two weeks later and they are on Wonsik’s couch, and Wonsik is determined to reassure this bright boy.
Sanghyuk blinks at him. “I make you happy?”
Wonsik smiles. “If you made me sad, I think we’d be having a different conversation.” He pauses. “Do I make you happy?”
The younger’s nod is a beautiful thing. He sighs in relief. But there’s something Sanghyuk feels like he has to say, Wonsik thinks he can gather that much from the way he keeps biting at his lips. Wonsik encourages, “You can tell me. Tell me, Sanghyuk.”
“It doesn’t bother me that you’re still friends; that’s not it. It’s just that…what if you get tired of me? I really like you, and I’m just…s- scared that one day he’ll come back, and I won’t be able to be--” his voice fades, and he mouths the word yours. Like he can’t say it out loud.
Wonsik, more sure than he’s ever been, shares eye contact to deliver these words with importance. “Jaehwan and I are much better as friends. The more that time passes, and I’m not,” Wonsik’s talking slow to pick what he says, “with him like that, I remember the reasons why we’re not together anymore. I like him a lot, but it’s not the same. It’s different from the way that I like you.”
“Different?”
“It’s a good thing.”
Sanghyuk finally looks a little less droopy, but he inappropriately celebrates this with smashing his palms into his eyes. “God, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Pulling his hands from his eyes, Wonsik chuckles. “That’s alright.”
“I feel like I should be doing more.”
“More, what?”
Sanghyuk throws his large frame against the couch with a shockwave that could have knocked Wonsik off if he hadn’t been holding onto him. “I don’t know.” He won’t look at Wonsik. “You have more experience anyway.”
They aren’t talking about dating anymore. Rather one of the fine points, the fine point that they didn’t get into two weeks ago at Hakyeon’s party. Wonsik’s quick to say, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not doing anything you’re not ready for.” You’re setting this pace.
“I always think I am, but….” Sanghyuk’s gaze is focused on the ceiling. “I don’t know.”
Wonsik scoots forward to wrap an arm around Sanghyuk’s shoulders and have his second hand curl into Sanghyuk’s hair. He looks better than he did a few minutes ago. Looks much more comfortable and eager for this closeness. “Don’t stress about it,” Wonsik tells him, wanting him to believe him. He leans his head on his shoulder. Breathes in Sanghyuk’s scent. “I like just being with you.”
Sanghyuk pushes at Wonsik’s chest. These are half-hearted as he could fling Wonsik across the room if he wanted. “Ugh, don’t be cheesy.”
But they’re both laughing, and Wonsik feels like he’s done a good job. His beating heart resembles something of a timpani drum, quick thumps trapped in the cage of his ribs. Almost six months going, and he feels like love again.
Their game is waiting, so they untangle themselves to pick up their controllers and get back to their on-screen infiltration. Sanghyuk’s performance is much better, and he even manages to start taking care of Wonsik’s dying character with teasing quips. “Is that the best you can do?” He’s laughing a little, and Wonsik doesn’t even care about the circumstances. Sanghyuk seems to be feeling better.
They sit shoulder-to-shoulder, Sanghyuk occasionally reaching over to peck his cheek each time he has to revive him, and Wonsik tells himself that this is love; he’s in love.
a/n: [disclaimer] jhwn wasn't a bad boyf they just didn't work out haaaa… sorry jhwn.