PUZZLE (Sequel to "2AM AND US: Tired of Waiting")
So, let me explain this sudden sequel to an old fic. The lovely suparashi commented and asked for a, guess what, sequel. And I have exams to pass. So, being not only the Pinkcess of Denmark but also the Queen of Procrastination, well, let's just say I jumped on the opportunity. Geez I'm so gonna fail those terms...
But it's cool. It's been quite a time since I wrote in English, and I had gorged on fic before, so I could try out new style devices and...
RANT, OVER.
Title: Puzzle
Rating: PG
Pairing: WooHo!
PUZZLE
Wooyoung wakes up and Junho is curled up next to him, warm at his side.
“Hi,” Chansung says. “Slept well?”
He nods, more of a habit than anything else, really - these few days, he *hasn’t* slept well - too many things on his mind.
His gaze falls on Junho, sleeping with his mouth slightly open, and he’s got small twitches shaking his features now and then. With the tip of his fingers, Wooyoung traces the imaginary line of his jaw, thinks of how it would feel under his hand, soothing the furrowed brow and letting that soft-looking strand of hair brush out of his grasp.
Instead he gets up, pulls lightly on Junho’s cover - he’ll wake up, eventually, and goes to have breakfast with everyone.
When he announces, a bit out of the blue: “I’ve got a day of vacation”, no-one says anything - they must be pleased, they all worry about him - he knows.
“That’s good,” Junho says, later, when they’re alone in the living room - Chansung must be off somewhere else.
And something in Wooyoung (the something that bounces and knocks in his ribcage) flutters, and he closes his eyes because he doesn’t want to listen to the fluttering.
It flutters even more when Junho leans carefully, cups his face lightly, and his lips touch Wooyoung’s - it’s startling, the contact of his tongue that pushes in between - weirdly soft, sweet-tasting - deeply upsetting.
Wooyoung feels himself shaking, and he hopes it’s not what, deep down, he knows it is. He wants it to be-
He doesn’t know.
He wants it to be casual, no strings - even if it’s gonna hurt.
But he already feels some kind of attachment (more than just a friend, a bandmate, a brother - and that’s what scares him so *fucking much*).
He would talk to Nichkhun, if he was here, but he’s not. Coming back soon.
Wooyoung clutches to that idea desperately, waits for him to come back so he can finally say what’s on his mind. The past days have been- terrible. He doesn’t sleep because he’s trying to get to Nichkhun through livechat, and he spends all his time ranting, when he should sleep.
Junho understands this, and Wooyoung can’t tell if he’s grateful, or even more afraid, because whenever he wants to step back and take some time alone, Junho walks to him, and- just rests his head on his shoulder or wraps an arm around him or says: “Are you okay?”, like he means it.
So Wooyoung doesn’t know.
What he does know, though, is that the something in him bounces and flails madly when Junho does these things, and that somehow he comes to expect them - hope they’ll come eventually.
He wants to get away, just for a while.
He does.
Home feels like home, and even the new couch or the different toilet paper can’t mask this feeling of safety, of deep familiarity. It’s good. It’s quiet, gives him some sense of peace, at last.
He spends a day like it’s a life - and it is, in the way that he gets to enjoy everything so slowly, and it’s like a concentrated blur of emotions - his parents are kind and parent-like, and Nichkhun calls him (“Are you okay?” “’m taking a break.” “Me too.” “I know.”), it’s good even if it’s not much.
And he misses the others, too.
And he misses Junho.
He didn’t know he would end up listening for his voice when it’s not here, or wanting to feel him close, but he does. He misses him.
He texts:
“How are you?”
Plain, no cute emoticons, he’s not that type.
Junho is.
He replies with a heart and a smiley and an umbrella (?), all sparkly, glittery.
Wooyoung tries not to feel fond, and fails.
He comes back to the dorm in the evening, and his mom cries.
“Hey,” he says when he steps in the common kitchen. They greet him, cheerfully, even when they’re so tired.
His eyes meet Junho’s.
They ask silently: “…?”, and Junho, silently, answers: “…”
Then, normal voice: “I’m gonna help you unpack”.
Wooyoung only has a backpack with a tee-shirt and a pair of briefs, but no-one questions anything. It seems normal. Taec even waves a bit.
Then, alone face-to-face in the dark living-room, shadows playing on Junho’s face and the lights from the kitchen stretching at their feet.
Junho pulls him to his chest, like it’s natural, and Wooyoung listens to his own heartbeat finally slowing, evening, it seems like the first time during years.
“I missed you,” he tells Junho - in the crease of his neck, and it makes Junho laugh. It makes Wooyoung happy that he’s said it.
***
Nichkhun comes back a week later, tanned and smiling, happy. He’s the breath of calm air Wooyoung needed.
“So,” he says. “What’s up that you didn’t tell me on the phone?”
And Wooyoung tells him - not everything, just the essentials, and Nichkhun laughs his quiet laugh, and says: “Good”, and Wooyoung smacks him with the pillow, because, hey, “that’s it”, when he spent so much time angsting over that business? Seriously?
(Junho joins them with Chansung in Nichkhun’s room and they all sit on the same bed and push each other over, and Junho falls - Wooyoung’s hand is there to hoist him back up.)