i was going to give this a deep name but lol
happy um rushed birthday(??) to nsfw rhea pls ♥ i love you man why aren't we talking as much as we used to omfg
marry me please i wrote you like way more than 1k
((fail try at punk rock!au that ended up being pointless angst))
((a neo is under the works too and raken too son. maybE))
((bYE))
It’s a late cold winter night, and the red haired male had run out of cigarettes, a fact that made him, with a tight leather jacket on and smudged eyeliner-he was actually too lazy to clean off the remains of his make up for once, not even bothering to take off his boots before he plopped down on the small balcony that belonged to the (destroyed and messy) apartment he rented, lighter in his left hand and a package of cigarettes in his right one-, run to the small convenience store a couple of blocks away from his so-called home; mind blank and quick steps, not really interested in something else that getting two packages of Menthol Malboro, and possibly a new lighter- just in case, he didn’t exactly desired to make two trips out of his comfort zone in the same night.
He is quick to arrive, and quick to surprise the one person in line before him. Hakyeon’s lips curve up into a tiny, almost invisible smirk- was it is hair, a mixture of cheap hair dye and brown? The scar on his left eye? The two piercings on his brow, and the lip ring he was currently wearing? Perhaps his make up, or the cheek piercings. That might be it, he thinks, shrugging it off before those thoughts join the back of his mind. Work had been a pain that day and even though he was lucky that the small music store he worked for allowed him to keep his regular choice of clothes and makeup on, he wasn’t exactly grateful to the annoying kids that came in, babbling about things that he honestly didn’t want to listen- who the fuck cared if that idol had dyed his hair pink, and why did everyone seemed to want to comment that kind of things with him?
At least the regular stop by from Taekwoon makes his days more bearable. Somehow. The younger male wasn’t the one to make conversation, but Hakyeon was grateful to have someone with his same music tastes and life choices to care about him.
The person had finally moved from the line, and the red haired took a step forward, his neatly painted black nails digging in the counter as he raised his eyes from them, breath stuck at his throat. The male in front of him was stunning- dirty blonde hair and perfectly applied eyeliner, a piercing on his nose and an apathetic look in his eyes yet a somehow friendly grin in his lips.
---------
Hakyeon wasn’t one to believe
in meetings deemed as a work of fate...or whatever bullshit that was,
but the way that those dark eyes seemed to glisten
with something strange once
he stated the things he had come to buy-
something threw him off right there.
He was sealed. And there was a rather big chance
that there was no turning back.
He learned the blonde haired’s name two trips to that
store and a shared bottle of beer later.
---------
It was surely strange- how someone whom he had never spoken to besides hellos and his usual request for cigarettes could hold such an effect on him. Such a permanent image in the back of his mind, clouding over the bad work days and hushed whispers of the people around him. Hakyeon was now buying a couple of beers to celebrate his precious weekend, therefore he was in that market a couple of hours earlier than usual, not exactly expecting for the other male to be there. He found him, though- this time, he was outside of his working clothes, with a quite tight pair of leather pants on and an equally tight-fitting leather jacket. His breath got stuck once again as he glanced sideways to where the blonde haired was, a refrigerator far away from him.
Looking to the front once again, the red haired shook his head and picked up four bottles of beer now, directing himself to pay.
He found the taller one there, too, and his left eye twitched slightly. Whatever that was happening, made him want to rip his hair off. He was confused, amused. and slightly irritated at that fact. All the red haired wished for was for some quiet nights, filled with heavy melodies and cigarette smoke- What he seemed to get was strange dreams filled with deep brown eyes.
---------
“Is there something wrong with my face?”
“...Why would there be?”
“You keep staring at it. I notice.”
“Of course I don’t.”
“Please. Care to share? I promise I’ll give a decent company.”
“No.”
“Staring isn’t free. Please?”
“Fine.”
---------
They did end up drinking that bottle. And the other three that the male had brought, sitting against one lonely tree in the park near where Wonshik worked. Hakyeon’s left hand had one cigarette loosely held, and Wonshik was playing with the rings on his hands- a casual chit chat flowed between them with ease, and Hakyeon thought that his heart would start to fail if the younger kept on staring at him with such an intense gaze everytime he turned around to steal the bottle that was between them, against the tree.
Somehow, when they parted ways and he was laying on the futon of his house, a quiet song of Sleeping with Sirens playing in the background, Hakyeon found the corner of his shiny lips curving up.
---------
Maybe it wasn’t enough
maybe he wasn’t enough
but Hakyeon still found himself
thinking, whispering, talking-
about him.
Every single day since
that chilly night when his need for nicotine
and fire
made it all happen.
---------
It seemed like cold nights always held a meaning for Hakyeon. The first time he sneaked out of his old house, the time he run out of that place that seemed to held him down, at the lowest point of his life, the time he met Taekwoon-the night he met Wonshik, too.
Trips to that convenience store were regular, now. He always had an excuse, and lately he had finally pestered the person whom he considered to be his best friend, Taekwoon, to spend more time at his house, singing and doing whatever they felt like doing. It ended up being the same routine- Taekwoon would cook, Hakyeon would bother him, they would fight - a couple of punches and kicks included- and find peace after an angry meal. Afterwards, they would settle into a rather nice silence until Hakyeon started babbling, sometimes slipping Wonshik’s name into the conversation- a fact that made the younger smile one of his tiny, almost invisible grins. Seeing Hakyeon like that made his mouth taste slightly bitter sweet for a couple of moments, but he would never admit it out loud.
That particularly cold saturday, Hakyeon arrived to the store in a rush, his hair (that was now of a decent length, since he hadn’t cut it since some time) covering his vision and curses mumbled under his breath (Taekwoon was going to get mad at him for forgetting that tonight was his turn to buy sweet treats for their movie night- two nights in a row), he didn’t notice the body right in front of his until they collided.
Bowing his head curtly, he didn’t spare a glance at the person (better said, back) he bumped into. People weren’t exactly something he liked, sometimes.
---------
It was during October when Hakyeon admitted
that something in his heart seemed to burn when he was with Wonshik.
Or near him.
It was also during October when he found out that he could never dream of them being together.
---------
Red had started to be a color Hakyeon loathed. Red was the color of anger, red was the color of blood- red was the color of Wonshik’s eyes when he came to his house, one late and harsh night. Red was the color of the traces Wonshik left in his skin. Red was the color in his head when he first saw Wonshik.
Red was Wonshik’s color. And he didn’t like Wonshik anymore.
The younger male had a strange hold over him- Wonshik made him feel like the world was swept off from his feet. Like the world suddenly turned into the blonde haired only.
But Hakyeon wasn’t Wonshik’s world.
It took him two nights and a couple of drinks to realize that.
Because Wonshik’s eyes were never focused on Hakyeon- Wonshik’s eyes were focused on himself. And as much as Hakyeon wanted to, he couldn’t change a mind based only on his attempts at affection, based only on whimpers and moans, on breathed sweet words pressed against flesh.
No, he didn’t like Wonshik anymore.
He loved him.
And it was as painful as breathing under water. But he couldn’t get up, couldn’t dig his neatly painted black nails into a rock to gain force- all he could do was watch. Stare, ignoring a pair of deep dark eyes placed upon him.
Hakyeon was blinded, and there was nothing to be done over it.
---------
Let it pool
in the sheets
and stain the oh-so-white
pure canvas bed-
with messy kisses
and whimpers
with my love filled eyes,
your lustful pair
and no holding back.
---------
Packing up was hard. It was January and the winter season made it even more harder to move. Hakyeon had truly tried to push it all away- it wasn’t enough. Not with Wonshik around. Not anymore. His hair was now black, reaching his shoulders. His nails weren’t neatly painted as they were at the start. Hakyeon wasn’t Hakyeon anymore.
Hakyeon was Wonshik’s. But Wonshik wasn't Hakyeon's.
marry me please i wrote you like way more than 1k
((fail try at punk rock!au that ended up being pointless angst))
((a neo is under the works too and raken too son. maybE))
((bYE))
It’s a late cold winter night, and the red haired male had run out of cigarettes, a fact that made him, with a tight leather jacket on and smudged eyeliner-he was actually too lazy to clean off the remains of his make up for once, not even bothering to take off his boots before he plopped down on the small balcony that belonged to the (destroyed and messy) apartment he rented, lighter in his left hand and a package of cigarettes in his right one-, run to the small convenience store a couple of blocks away from his so-called home; mind blank and quick steps, not really interested in something else that getting two packages of Menthol Malboro, and possibly a new lighter- just in case, he didn’t exactly desired to make two trips out of his comfort zone in the same night.
He is quick to arrive, and quick to surprise the one person in line before him. Hakyeon’s lips curve up into a tiny, almost invisible smirk- was it is hair, a mixture of cheap hair dye and brown? The scar on his left eye? The two piercings on his brow, and the lip ring he was currently wearing? Perhaps his make up, or the cheek piercings. That might be it, he thinks, shrugging it off before those thoughts join the back of his mind. Work had been a pain that day and even though he was lucky that the small music store he worked for allowed him to keep his regular choice of clothes and makeup on, he wasn’t exactly grateful to the annoying kids that came in, babbling about things that he honestly didn’t want to listen- who the fuck cared if that idol had dyed his hair pink, and why did everyone seemed to want to comment that kind of things with him?
At least the regular stop by from Taekwoon makes his days more bearable. Somehow. The younger male wasn’t the one to make conversation, but Hakyeon was grateful to have someone with his same music tastes and life choices to care about him.
The person had finally moved from the line, and the red haired took a step forward, his neatly painted black nails digging in the counter as he raised his eyes from them, breath stuck at his throat. The male in front of him was stunning- dirty blonde hair and perfectly applied eyeliner, a piercing on his nose and an apathetic look in his eyes yet a somehow friendly grin in his lips.
---------
Hakyeon wasn’t one to believe
in meetings deemed as a work of fate...or whatever bullshit that was,
but the way that those dark eyes seemed to glisten
with something strange once
he stated the things he had come to buy-
something threw him off right there.
He was sealed. And there was a rather big chance
that there was no turning back.
He learned the blonde haired’s name two trips to that
store and a shared bottle of beer later.
---------
It was surely strange- how someone whom he had never spoken to besides hellos and his usual request for cigarettes could hold such an effect on him. Such a permanent image in the back of his mind, clouding over the bad work days and hushed whispers of the people around him. Hakyeon was now buying a couple of beers to celebrate his precious weekend, therefore he was in that market a couple of hours earlier than usual, not exactly expecting for the other male to be there. He found him, though- this time, he was outside of his working clothes, with a quite tight pair of leather pants on and an equally tight-fitting leather jacket. His breath got stuck once again as he glanced sideways to where the blonde haired was, a refrigerator far away from him.
Looking to the front once again, the red haired shook his head and picked up four bottles of beer now, directing himself to pay.
He found the taller one there, too, and his left eye twitched slightly. Whatever that was happening, made him want to rip his hair off. He was confused, amused. and slightly irritated at that fact. All the red haired wished for was for some quiet nights, filled with heavy melodies and cigarette smoke- What he seemed to get was strange dreams filled with deep brown eyes.
---------
“Is there something wrong with my face?”
“...Why would there be?”
“You keep staring at it. I notice.”
“Of course I don’t.”
“Please. Care to share? I promise I’ll give a decent company.”
“No.”
“Staring isn’t free. Please?”
“Fine.”
---------
They did end up drinking that bottle. And the other three that the male had brought, sitting against one lonely tree in the park near where Wonshik worked. Hakyeon’s left hand had one cigarette loosely held, and Wonshik was playing with the rings on his hands- a casual chit chat flowed between them with ease, and Hakyeon thought that his heart would start to fail if the younger kept on staring at him with such an intense gaze everytime he turned around to steal the bottle that was between them, against the tree.
Somehow, when they parted ways and he was laying on the futon of his house, a quiet song of Sleeping with Sirens playing in the background, Hakyeon found the corner of his shiny lips curving up.
---------
Maybe it wasn’t enough
maybe he wasn’t enough
but Hakyeon still found himself
thinking, whispering, talking-
about him.
Every single day since
that chilly night when his need for nicotine
and fire
made it all happen.
---------
It seemed like cold nights always held a meaning for Hakyeon. The first time he sneaked out of his old house, the time he run out of that place that seemed to held him down, at the lowest point of his life, the time he met Taekwoon-the night he met Wonshik, too.
Trips to that convenience store were regular, now. He always had an excuse, and lately he had finally pestered the person whom he considered to be his best friend, Taekwoon, to spend more time at his house, singing and doing whatever they felt like doing. It ended up being the same routine- Taekwoon would cook, Hakyeon would bother him, they would fight - a couple of punches and kicks included- and find peace after an angry meal. Afterwards, they would settle into a rather nice silence until Hakyeon started babbling, sometimes slipping Wonshik’s name into the conversation- a fact that made the younger smile one of his tiny, almost invisible grins. Seeing Hakyeon like that made his mouth taste slightly bitter sweet for a couple of moments, but he would never admit it out loud.
That particularly cold saturday, Hakyeon arrived to the store in a rush, his hair (that was now of a decent length, since he hadn’t cut it since some time) covering his vision and curses mumbled under his breath (Taekwoon was going to get mad at him for forgetting that tonight was his turn to buy sweet treats for their movie night- two nights in a row), he didn’t notice the body right in front of his until they collided.
Bowing his head curtly, he didn’t spare a glance at the person (better said, back) he bumped into. People weren’t exactly something he liked, sometimes.
---------
It was during October when Hakyeon admitted
that something in his heart seemed to burn when he was with Wonshik.
Or near him.
It was also during October when he found out that he could never dream of them being together.
---------
Red had started to be a color Hakyeon loathed. Red was the color of anger, red was the color of blood- red was the color of Wonshik’s eyes when he came to his house, one late and harsh night. Red was the color of the traces Wonshik left in his skin. Red was the color in his head when he first saw Wonshik.
Red was Wonshik’s color. And he didn’t like Wonshik anymore.
The younger male had a strange hold over him- Wonshik made him feel like the world was swept off from his feet. Like the world suddenly turned into the blonde haired only.
But Hakyeon wasn’t Wonshik’s world.
It took him two nights and a couple of drinks to realize that.
Because Wonshik’s eyes were never focused on Hakyeon- Wonshik’s eyes were focused on himself. And as much as Hakyeon wanted to, he couldn’t change a mind based only on his attempts at affection, based only on whimpers and moans, on breathed sweet words pressed against flesh.
No, he didn’t like Wonshik anymore.
He loved him.
And it was as painful as breathing under water. But he couldn’t get up, couldn’t dig his neatly painted black nails into a rock to gain force- all he could do was watch. Stare, ignoring a pair of deep dark eyes placed upon him.
Hakyeon was blinded, and there was nothing to be done over it.
---------
Let it pool
in the sheets
and stain the oh-so-white
pure canvas bed-
with messy kisses
and whimpers
with my love filled eyes,
your lustful pair
and no holding back.
---------
Packing up was hard. It was January and the winter season made it even more harder to move. Hakyeon had truly tried to push it all away- it wasn’t enough. Not with Wonshik around. Not anymore. His hair was now black, reaching his shoulders. His nails weren’t neatly painted as they were at the start. Hakyeon wasn’t Hakyeon anymore.
Hakyeon was Wonshik’s. But Wonshik wasn't Hakyeon's.