bad news
title: bad news | [song]
pairing: wonsik/sanghyuk
rating: pg-13
word count: 2,018
summary: it's been nearly eighteen months since sanghyuk has heard from wonsik, and he didn't expect a call so late at night.
warnings: implied drug/alcohol abuse
a/n: post-rock-band-break-up au thanks to nicole's enabling.
"night after night, bar after club,
dropping like flies, who woke you up?
on the front lawn, sprinklers turned on,
it's not your house, where'd you go wrong?" - Cold War Kids, "First"
[02:13] are you awake?
The contrast between the brightness of the cell phone screen and the darkness of the room caused Sanghyuk to squint his eyes as he read the message after picking up his phone from the bedside table. It took several seconds for his eyes to even focus enough to enable him to read the name at the top of the screen.
Wonsik.
sanghyuk:
[02:16] yeah, but i don’t wanna be
Sanghyuk hadn’t even wanted to respond in the first place. Talking to Wonsik in the middle of the night was akin to getting stuck in quicksand - the more one tried to escape the more they got sucked in - but he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.
wonsik:
[02:17] can i talk to you?
He knew continuing the conversation through text would be painstaking and dialed Wonsik’s number. Despite having been rapid at text responses, Wonsik didn’t pick up the first time, and even the second time it took until the fourth or fifth ring (he didn’t bother counting). There was silence on the line when it finally connected; a silence that made Sanghyuk uneasy.
“Wonsik?” The Wonsik he had known years before was never silent as he was then. He listened intently, but he still had his own comments to add. If nothing else, his laugh was always heard echoing against the walls. “Is everything okay?”
Sanghyuk had opened his mouth to speak again when Wonsik finally said something. “Yeah. I’m fine.” There were long pauses between the breaks of his sentences. “Are you home?”
“Are you stoned?”
The question was ignored. “I want to see you.” He heard Wonsik take in a breath as if he were going to speak again, but then he hesitated. “Are you,” he stopped mid-question and a sigh could be heard over the line, “are you still at the apartment? The one behind the supermarket?”
“Wonsik, you shouldn’t-”
“Still on the second floor, right?”
This time Sanghyuk was the one sighing and he put in an extra effort to make his tone sound as reluctant as possible. “Yeah.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “You shouldn’t come. It’s not the same as when you left.”
He heard Wonsik sniffle over the phone. It wasn’t warm outside, but definitely not cold enough for runny noses. Was he crying? “About that,” his voice was steady and Wonsik had never been good at hiding his feelings, so he wasn’t crying, “can you let me in?”
“You should leave.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Sanghyuk wasn’t sure why he left his bed. Maybe it was because he was never good at saying “no” or maybe it was the way Wonsik’s voice tightened as if he were about to start crying for real - likely a combination of the two - but he was halfway to the door before he realized. He looked back at the figure under the blankets and felt a pang of guilt for what he was about to do, but he knew if the other were in his position he’d do the same.
He closed the bedroom door behind him before entering the main room of the apartment; it was the least he could do. He had to undo the chain at the main door to open it, and on the other side was Wonsik. Sanghyuk looked him up and down, from his unkempt black hair down to his old sneakers that may have been white several months ago but were now stained light brown. Wonsik on the other hand couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
Sanghyuk cleared his throat. “You still have that jacket?” Wonsik’s response was barely audible, but he nodded with it. It was a statement of the obvious, the black leather jacket on his shoulders was the same as the one he’d always worn before. A three-year-old gift from some old ex Sanghyuk couldn’t even remember the name of anymore. It had the same wear on the elbows and creases as before, but more apparent with age. It also had the same smell clinging to it - a musky smell that he assumed was also responsible for his glazed eyes. “You are stoned.”
Wonsik ignored him, likely because his tone of voice was more aggressive than he intended. “Can I…?” He didn’t finish the question, instead making a gesture towards Sanghyuk to indicated he was asking for permission to enter the apartment.
He stood there for a moment before moving out of the doorway. He didn’t want Wonsik to think he was unwelcome, but it was difficult to act otherwise.
Wonsik kicked off his shoes by the door without untying them, but didn’t remove the leather jacket. “Do you have anything to drink?”
The uneasiness he had felt when he first called Wonsik returned. “You really shouldn’t…”
He was waved off. “I know my limits.”
“Yeah,” Sanghyuk scoffed, “and you ignore them.”
“Please.”
“You look pathetic when you whine,” is what he wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned to go check the refrigerator and said, “I don’t know if we have anything. I haven’t had reason to buy any and Hakyeon doesn’t drink anymore.”
Wonsik doesn’t respond immediately and his brow furrowed as he processed the words. “Hakyeon’s here?” There was something behind his voice and Sanghyuk couldn’t tell if it was excitement or apprehension.
Sanghyuk nodded. “He’s in the bedroom. It looked like he was asleep when I left to let you in, but I think he was faking.”
A look crossed Wonsik’s face that made Sanghyuk realize he should have left out the last part. “Should I say ‘hello’?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think if he wanted to he would have gotten up. He’s having a tough time.” He found a bottle of beer in the very back of the fridge and grabbed it by the neck. “I think this is the last one,” he added as he searched for the bottle opener in the drawer next to the sink.
When he opened the bottle and gave it to Wonsik he noticed him chewing on his lip. He didn’t drink from the bottle immediately, contrary to what Sanghyuk expected. “Are you…? Is he…?”
Sanghyuk couldn’t help but smirk at the question. “No,” he answered, even though he had been tempted to lie.
“Then where is Jaehwan?”
He sighed. He had been hoping the question wouldn’t be asked. “I don’t really know. I just know he’s really hurt - he always gets too worked up to talk about it every time he tries.”
“Why’s he in the bedroom?”
A shrug. “It’s been almost two weeks. I felt bad about making him stay on the couch the whole time.”
Wonsik finally took a swig from the bottle in his hand and made a face. “This tastes like water,” he said under his breath. He wasn’t usually one to complain about something like that unless it was a joke, but it was apparent to Sanghyuk long before that his brain-to-mouth filter was out of commission.
“I work at a grocery store, Wonsik.”
The bottle made a quiet “clink” sound as he placed it back down on the counter, his eyes were wide with shock. “What?”
Sanghyuk barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I dropped out of high school so we could tour, remember?”
“Oh.” There was a long silence after that, in the middle of which Wonsik drank more than just a swig of the beer.
“What about you?” he asked. Wonsik gave him a confused look. “Where are Hongbin and Taekwoon? Why did you text me after so long? I thought they still talked to you.”
“You must not talk to them much yourself,” Wonsik remarked between drinks. Sanghyuk didn’t say anything, simply waiting for him to continue. “Hongbin got into gambling after a few months. Things have gone from bad to worse, so Taekwoon fled the country with him.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m worried.” Sanghyuk couldn’t blame him for that. “Besides, I don’t know how well running away will help them. The guys Hongbin pissed off are scary, and it’s not like they could afford to get much farther than China.”
Sanghyuk started tapping one of his index fingers on the counter. “I’m sorry.”
Wonsik shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
He didn’t respond to that. He still remembered the day almost eighteen months before when Wonsik had confessed to him. It had been raining, just like any bad romance cliché, and they had been standing underneath the awning of a small shop next to the apartment building while Wonsik smoked. It had taken a lot of time for him to come up with the words, and Sanghyuk remembered feeling pity.
“I’m sorry,” he had said. He remembered how Wonsik had instantly deflated, looking like a kicked puppy and the fact that he was partially wet from the rain did nothing but exaggerate it. He had spent several minutes dancing around the topic jumping between bullshit excuses before finally admitting that he simply wasn’t willing. Wonsik clearly had some issues of his own he needed to sort out (issues that Sanghyuk could see were still not sorted), and Sanghyuk himself was so much younger and uncertain than the rest of them that he found the concept hard to grasp.
He had gone inside after that and Wonsik had called after him saying that he would follow. Except he didn’t. The next time Sanghyuk would see him would be in a hospital in the middle of the night after a bad trip had driven him to walk into traffic. That was when it ended, when the six of them decided their hopes and dreams weren’t worth that price and attempted to go their separate ways.
There was nothing Sanghyuk regretted more than going inside that day.
Wonsik had finished the bottle by the time Sanghyuk returned to the present and was looking for the trash bin before giving up and placing it in the sink. He accidentally bumped his hip into Sanghyuk’s as he tried to navigate the slightly cramped space.
“Why don’t you take your jacket off?” Sanghyuk suggested. Wonsik froze in his movements, seeming apprehensive. “You can sleep on the couch.”
He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders and handed it to Sanghyuk so it could be hung up. He was reluctant to put it in the closet with everything else due to the smell that clung to it, but he didn’t have any other options. There was a blanket in the bottom corner that he pulled out while he was in there and returned to Wonsik who was getting himself settled onto the worn-out couch. It was a dark blue patterned with swirls of a lighter shade. He placed it over Wonsik and then for a reason he could not name started to tuck him in with it.
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"
The question was rhetorical, but Wonsik being himself didn’t take it that way. “I’m better now,” he insisted, “I don’t do any of the hard stuff anymore.”
Sanghyuk didn’t want to fight him, and decided not to respond. With a yawn, he left Wonsik on the couch with only a whispered “goodnight” that he wasn’t even sure could be heard. He paused at the kitchen before turning off the light to turn around and look at Wonsik. He felt a pang of sadness in seeing him toss and turn only moments after Sanghyuk had walked away.
It was hard to look at him, but Wonsik was still in his thoughts as he returned to the bedroom to settle himself down. Was everything all right? Wonsik had said it was, but how could Sanghyuk trust he wasn’t hiding something? He didn’t know how long he would stay (he didn’t even know why he showed up in the first place), but he hoped it wouldn’t be too long. For Sanghyuk, he represented a part of the past that he had wanted to leave behind and had no interest dragging into the future.
pairing: wonsik/sanghyuk
rating: pg-13
word count: 2,018
summary: it's been nearly eighteen months since sanghyuk has heard from wonsik, and he didn't expect a call so late at night.
warnings: implied drug/alcohol abuse
a/n: post-rock-band-break-up au thanks to nicole's enabling.
"night after night, bar after club,
dropping like flies, who woke you up?
on the front lawn, sprinklers turned on,
it's not your house, where'd you go wrong?" - Cold War Kids, "First"
[02:13] are you awake?
The contrast between the brightness of the cell phone screen and the darkness of the room caused Sanghyuk to squint his eyes as he read the message after picking up his phone from the bedside table. It took several seconds for his eyes to even focus enough to enable him to read the name at the top of the screen.
Wonsik.
sanghyuk:
[02:16] yeah, but i don’t wanna be
Sanghyuk hadn’t even wanted to respond in the first place. Talking to Wonsik in the middle of the night was akin to getting stuck in quicksand - the more one tried to escape the more they got sucked in - but he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.
wonsik:
[02:17] can i talk to you?
He knew continuing the conversation through text would be painstaking and dialed Wonsik’s number. Despite having been rapid at text responses, Wonsik didn’t pick up the first time, and even the second time it took until the fourth or fifth ring (he didn’t bother counting). There was silence on the line when it finally connected; a silence that made Sanghyuk uneasy.
“Wonsik?” The Wonsik he had known years before was never silent as he was then. He listened intently, but he still had his own comments to add. If nothing else, his laugh was always heard echoing against the walls. “Is everything okay?”
Sanghyuk had opened his mouth to speak again when Wonsik finally said something. “Yeah. I’m fine.” There were long pauses between the breaks of his sentences. “Are you home?”
“Are you stoned?”
The question was ignored. “I want to see you.” He heard Wonsik take in a breath as if he were going to speak again, but then he hesitated. “Are you,” he stopped mid-question and a sigh could be heard over the line, “are you still at the apartment? The one behind the supermarket?”
“Wonsik, you shouldn’t-”
“Still on the second floor, right?”
This time Sanghyuk was the one sighing and he put in an extra effort to make his tone sound as reluctant as possible. “Yeah.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “You shouldn’t come. It’s not the same as when you left.”
He heard Wonsik sniffle over the phone. It wasn’t warm outside, but definitely not cold enough for runny noses. Was he crying? “About that,” his voice was steady and Wonsik had never been good at hiding his feelings, so he wasn’t crying, “can you let me in?”
“You should leave.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Sanghyuk wasn’t sure why he left his bed. Maybe it was because he was never good at saying “no” or maybe it was the way Wonsik’s voice tightened as if he were about to start crying for real - likely a combination of the two - but he was halfway to the door before he realized. He looked back at the figure under the blankets and felt a pang of guilt for what he was about to do, but he knew if the other were in his position he’d do the same.
He closed the bedroom door behind him before entering the main room of the apartment; it was the least he could do. He had to undo the chain at the main door to open it, and on the other side was Wonsik. Sanghyuk looked him up and down, from his unkempt black hair down to his old sneakers that may have been white several months ago but were now stained light brown. Wonsik on the other hand couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
Sanghyuk cleared his throat. “You still have that jacket?” Wonsik’s response was barely audible, but he nodded with it. It was a statement of the obvious, the black leather jacket on his shoulders was the same as the one he’d always worn before. A three-year-old gift from some old ex Sanghyuk couldn’t even remember the name of anymore. It had the same wear on the elbows and creases as before, but more apparent with age. It also had the same smell clinging to it - a musky smell that he assumed was also responsible for his glazed eyes. “You are stoned.”
Wonsik ignored him, likely because his tone of voice was more aggressive than he intended. “Can I…?” He didn’t finish the question, instead making a gesture towards Sanghyuk to indicated he was asking for permission to enter the apartment.
He stood there for a moment before moving out of the doorway. He didn’t want Wonsik to think he was unwelcome, but it was difficult to act otherwise.
Wonsik kicked off his shoes by the door without untying them, but didn’t remove the leather jacket. “Do you have anything to drink?”
The uneasiness he had felt when he first called Wonsik returned. “You really shouldn’t…”
He was waved off. “I know my limits.”
“Yeah,” Sanghyuk scoffed, “and you ignore them.”
“Please.”
“You look pathetic when you whine,” is what he wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned to go check the refrigerator and said, “I don’t know if we have anything. I haven’t had reason to buy any and Hakyeon doesn’t drink anymore.”
Wonsik doesn’t respond immediately and his brow furrowed as he processed the words. “Hakyeon’s here?” There was something behind his voice and Sanghyuk couldn’t tell if it was excitement or apprehension.
Sanghyuk nodded. “He’s in the bedroom. It looked like he was asleep when I left to let you in, but I think he was faking.”
A look crossed Wonsik’s face that made Sanghyuk realize he should have left out the last part. “Should I say ‘hello’?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think if he wanted to he would have gotten up. He’s having a tough time.” He found a bottle of beer in the very back of the fridge and grabbed it by the neck. “I think this is the last one,” he added as he searched for the bottle opener in the drawer next to the sink.
When he opened the bottle and gave it to Wonsik he noticed him chewing on his lip. He didn’t drink from the bottle immediately, contrary to what Sanghyuk expected. “Are you…? Is he…?”
Sanghyuk couldn’t help but smirk at the question. “No,” he answered, even though he had been tempted to lie.
“Then where is Jaehwan?”
He sighed. He had been hoping the question wouldn’t be asked. “I don’t really know. I just know he’s really hurt - he always gets too worked up to talk about it every time he tries.”
“Why’s he in the bedroom?”
A shrug. “It’s been almost two weeks. I felt bad about making him stay on the couch the whole time.”
Wonsik finally took a swig from the bottle in his hand and made a face. “This tastes like water,” he said under his breath. He wasn’t usually one to complain about something like that unless it was a joke, but it was apparent to Sanghyuk long before that his brain-to-mouth filter was out of commission.
“I work at a grocery store, Wonsik.”
The bottle made a quiet “clink” sound as he placed it back down on the counter, his eyes were wide with shock. “What?”
Sanghyuk barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I dropped out of high school so we could tour, remember?”
“Oh.” There was a long silence after that, in the middle of which Wonsik drank more than just a swig of the beer.
“What about you?” he asked. Wonsik gave him a confused look. “Where are Hongbin and Taekwoon? Why did you text me after so long? I thought they still talked to you.”
“You must not talk to them much yourself,” Wonsik remarked between drinks. Sanghyuk didn’t say anything, simply waiting for him to continue. “Hongbin got into gambling after a few months. Things have gone from bad to worse, so Taekwoon fled the country with him.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m worried.” Sanghyuk couldn’t blame him for that. “Besides, I don’t know how well running away will help them. The guys Hongbin pissed off are scary, and it’s not like they could afford to get much farther than China.”
Sanghyuk started tapping one of his index fingers on the counter. “I’m sorry.”
Wonsik shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
He didn’t respond to that. He still remembered the day almost eighteen months before when Wonsik had confessed to him. It had been raining, just like any bad romance cliché, and they had been standing underneath the awning of a small shop next to the apartment building while Wonsik smoked. It had taken a lot of time for him to come up with the words, and Sanghyuk remembered feeling pity.
“I’m sorry,” he had said. He remembered how Wonsik had instantly deflated, looking like a kicked puppy and the fact that he was partially wet from the rain did nothing but exaggerate it. He had spent several minutes dancing around the topic jumping between bullshit excuses before finally admitting that he simply wasn’t willing. Wonsik clearly had some issues of his own he needed to sort out (issues that Sanghyuk could see were still not sorted), and Sanghyuk himself was so much younger and uncertain than the rest of them that he found the concept hard to grasp.
He had gone inside after that and Wonsik had called after him saying that he would follow. Except he didn’t. The next time Sanghyuk would see him would be in a hospital in the middle of the night after a bad trip had driven him to walk into traffic. That was when it ended, when the six of them decided their hopes and dreams weren’t worth that price and attempted to go their separate ways.
There was nothing Sanghyuk regretted more than going inside that day.
Wonsik had finished the bottle by the time Sanghyuk returned to the present and was looking for the trash bin before giving up and placing it in the sink. He accidentally bumped his hip into Sanghyuk’s as he tried to navigate the slightly cramped space.
“Why don’t you take your jacket off?” Sanghyuk suggested. Wonsik froze in his movements, seeming apprehensive. “You can sleep on the couch.”
He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders and handed it to Sanghyuk so it could be hung up. He was reluctant to put it in the closet with everything else due to the smell that clung to it, but he didn’t have any other options. There was a blanket in the bottom corner that he pulled out while he was in there and returned to Wonsik who was getting himself settled onto the worn-out couch. It was a dark blue patterned with swirls of a lighter shade. He placed it over Wonsik and then for a reason he could not name started to tuck him in with it.
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"
The question was rhetorical, but Wonsik being himself didn’t take it that way. “I’m better now,” he insisted, “I don’t do any of the hard stuff anymore.”
Sanghyuk didn’t want to fight him, and decided not to respond. With a yawn, he left Wonsik on the couch with only a whispered “goodnight” that he wasn’t even sure could be heard. He paused at the kitchen before turning off the light to turn around and look at Wonsik. He felt a pang of sadness in seeing him toss and turn only moments after Sanghyuk had walked away.
It was hard to look at him, but Wonsik was still in his thoughts as he returned to the bedroom to settle himself down. Was everything all right? Wonsik had said it was, but how could Sanghyuk trust he wasn’t hiding something? He didn’t know how long he would stay (he didn’t even know why he showed up in the first place), but he hoped it wouldn’t be too long. For Sanghyuk, he represented a part of the past that he had wanted to leave behind and had no interest dragging into the future.