not afraid to fall [chapter 20]
Title: not afraid to fall [chapter 20]
Author: ivoryroyale
Genre: supernatural, drama, friendship, hurt/comfort, romance
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, very brief mentions of bullying and abuse
Summary: in which a group of six aren't afraid to stand tall because they have each other.
Note: 7,626 words. Unbeta-ed.
-----
[ proloque] [ chapter 1] [ chapter 2] [ chapter 3] [ chapter 4] [ chapter 5] [ chapter 6] [ chapter 7] [ chapter 8] [ chapter 9] [ chapter 10] [ chapter 11] [ chapter 12] [ chapter 13] [ chapter 14] [ chapter 15] [ chapter 16] [ chapter 17] [ chapter 18] [ chapter 19] [ chapter 20]
not afraid to fall
chapter twenty
To say that it absolutely kills Yongguk to see Junhong like this would be a complete understatement.
It took him, literally, ten minutes just to force himself through the door-the kimchi semi-warm and his heart already dropping at the sight of Junhong lying there, blank as a sheet, staring down at his bandaged abdomen. "Hey," The oldest says, gripping the two plates tighter in his hands as he forces a smile and steps through the doorway. Closing the door again with his hip, he continues, "I brought kimchi." And then he thinks for a moment and adds as an afterthought, as if Junhong had possibly forgotten, "Your favorite."
A vacant stare along with a more than fake smile is his only reply, and he fights to keep the smile plastered on his face as well, making his way over to the bed and setting the plates on Junhong's nightstand with a little clunk. "Oh, hey, hyung. I wasn't expecting you. I thought Youngjae hyung was going to bring me the food."
"Yeah, well," Yongguk says, sighing silently, taking the empty seat next to Junhong's bed, "you're just going to need to settle with me. Hopefully I didn't wreck your guys' date."
"Date?" Junhong asks, like he doesn't mind one bit if Yongguk mistook his and Youngjae's hanging out as a date. "I don't think Youngjae hyung would appreciate it if you called it a date." He goes on to explain, sounding completely serious, and Yongguk doesn't know whether to feel a little disappointed or a tiny bit amused
"I was just joking, Junhong."
And Junhong doesn't even seem the least bit phased when he says, "Oh," blinking about twenty times a second as if that would be enough to mask the complete hollowness behind his actions. "I didn’t know that." The utter blandness of his voice is almost enough for Yongguk to bolt right out of the room in a mixture of anger and hopelessness, because he can't-physically can't-do this. Not when it's Junhong. Not when it's the boy he's loved and cared for since he was seventeen. Since he first laid eyes on him at age eleven, kicking a soccer ball carelessly in the front yard belonging to one of his endless foster parents at the time--the black and white of the ball a mere blur because of Junhong's super speed. It’s not easy when the person that’s supposed to be your son, who used to practically worship you-love you more than anything in the world-suddenly just stops, and you have to live with the fact that you weren’t there for him. That this-this emptiness in front of you and the utter loneliness that you feel in your stomach whenever you look at it-is all your fault and you can’t. Do. A fucking. Thing. About it.
It’s enough to make Yongguk’s blood boil and his heart to fall down to his knees, and the only thing that’s keeping him sane and giving him solace is the fact that, from the corner of his eye, he sees Junhong’s fist practically clinging to his bedsheets-a silent sign that Junhong is at least trying. (And Yongguk won’t admit it out loud for fear of being wrong, but he also silently fools himself into believing that it’s Junhong’s new way of expressing distress-distress that he can’t feel a fucking thing and he knows that it’s slowly breaking Yongguk’s heart.
“So,” Yongguk starts again, rather awkwardly, desperately trying to find a way to get his head to stop thinking by rambling (because thinking equals thoughts about how much he hates this which equals immense amounts of hurt so therefore, thinking is bad, bad, bad), “you hungry?” He asks, bringing the two plates of food closer to him, balancing one on his knee while simultaneously bringing the other to sit in Junhong’s lap
He silently hopes that the answer isn't a flat no.
"That depends," Junhong says instead, and it catches Yongguk completely by surprise, "are you hungry?"
For a moment, Yongguk’s a little bit confused. “Uh, yeah, I guess I am a little hungry. Why?"
And then Junhong’s hand is suddenly tracing the outline of his knuckles, and there’s a moment where Yongguk feels a little bit panicked before it slowly slips away (like, it legitimately disappears), and he knows it should probably scare him, but the feeling is somewhat addictive in a way. His mind's stopped thinking about Junhong and he feels okay for the first time around Junhong in a while.
Then Junhong says, “Hyung,” in a voice full of hurt and agony, and Yongguk’s shocked and surprised and confused all over again, “you really feel that way around me?"
And Yongguk knows almost instantly that something’s wrong.
So he pulls his hand away, and all the hurt crashes back onto him like a hurricane, like one of his father’s horrible drinking sessions, like a fire surrounding him, and it suddenly feels like he’s a teenager again, standing in front of his dad, yelling curses and slurs of fear. It hurts ten times more than it did before and Yongguk has to physically flinch away, has to actually curl up, because he feels a familiar heat traveling up his spine and toward his fingertips and he does not want to start another house fire again. “What the fuck was that?” Yongguk demands hoarsely and through clouded eyes, he sees Junhong. He sees Junhong, and he looks genuinely scared. He’s not faking it anymore-it’s not some half-assed attempt to get Yongguk to stop worrying-and Yongguk’s almost scared he’s imagining it.
(Please don’t be imagining it.)
“Oh my God,” Junhong says, eyes full of a foreign panic as his eyes glue themselves to Yongguk’s crumpled form, “hyung, are you okay? I’m so sorry!”
“What was that?” He repeats, flames dying at his fingertips, anger and pain cooling in his throat. (Because the thought of Junhong actually feeling something calms him down better than any other tranquilizer or narcotic could.)
But then Yongguk sees the small spark of dread in Junhong’s eyes slowly dimming; he sees Junhong’s mouth, once set into a line of worry, returning back to a blank line, and Yongguk almost wants to plead, no, no, no, don’t do that, please, don’t do that
Don’t disappear on me again.
“I don’t know,” Junhong says in a rush, like he can feel it to, like he knows the feeling is going to slip away again, and he wants to say as much as possible in his voice-his normal voice thriving with emotion-and not the other voice. The other voice laced with ice. And Yongguk thinks Junhong’s super speed activated somewhere along the way without him meaning to, because the words coming out of the younger boy’s mouth are almost incoherent-too fast to understand, “I don’t know-I just-Youngjae figured out that whenever I make skin to skin contact with someone, I can feel again-I can feel whatever the person I’m touching is feeling, and it’s kind of amazing, and it’s kind of not, because the emotions-they’re not mine, and I know they’re not mine, even though it feels like they are.” Junhong takes in another deep breath, and then he says, even faster, except Yongguk hears the emotion visibly slipping right out of every word, out of every little letter, “and lately, hyung… lately, I don’t know.” There’s a moment where Junhong struggles, and Yongguk doesn’t know whether or not it’s because most of the emotion is gone and he only has a minimal amount to go off on or because he’s trying to find the right words to say. “Lately, I’m starting to develop feelings of my own, and it only happens after I nearly completely drain another person’s emotions, but hyung, it feels amazing-it’s amazing to actually feel again-and I really, really don’t want to go back to feeling like that, because it’s horrible, hyung, it’s horrible, and I don’t want to go back to that, please, please don’t make me go back to feeling like that.” Tears well up somewhere under Junhong’s eyes (or maybe somewhere under Yongguk’s, it’s hard to tell anymore), and then it’s gone, the emotion is gone-there it goes, slipping right before Yongguk’s eyes, right out of his burning fingertips, and once again, the leader can’t do anything about it
And it’s fucking unfair.
“Junhong?” Yongguk asks, voice broken, and he knows it’s dumb, he knows it’s completely senseless, but he wants to make sure. He wants to know, without a doubt, that Junhong’s back to being a complete robot, even though he already knows the answer, and that the brunette’s reply will probably break his heart into a million pieces
And even Yongguk sees the effort Junhong puts in his reply, sees how hard he’s trying to make it sound normal, but no matter how much he tries, it always turns out the same, “Yes?"
And there’re a lot of things that Yongguk can say right now-a lot of things about how that was the weirdest thing ever, don’t ever do it again or how I can’t believe how messed up your power is now or even how I really miss the sound of your voice and the way your eyes sparkle whenever you talk, can we please have that back, please? But instead, Yongguk takes into account how hurt Junhong looked before-how utterly dejected he looked when he saw (or felt, or whatever) all that Yongguk thought about him, and says, “Let’s eat.” Like nothing ever happened
The leader leans forward, bringing the sleeve of his shirt over his hand to wipe the fresh tears out from under Junhong’s eyes, and he almost dies a little when Junhong does the same for Yongguk with his blanket, careful not to make any skin to skin contact. “Okay,” The younger boy tells him, hand still hovering in front of Yongguk’s cheek like he’s trying so hard not to break those few inches it would take to let go and steal his emotions again, “that sounds good.”
And the fact that Yongguk still has to talk about trivial things after all this-still has to force himself to question Junhong about Key and what actually happened that day because it’s important; it’s crucial to the safety of his family-
That’s enough to nearly break him altogether
(He’s so damn tired.)
Daehyun isn’t exactly sure what’s wrong.
He’s sure that he didn’t really do anything to offend Youngjae, (At least he hopes he didn’t-does Youngjae find talking with your mouth full offending?) and he’s sure he didn’t insult him in any way before. He’s sure Youngjae isn’t really the type of person to get irrationally angry like Himchan is, and Daehyun hopes he didn’t do something absolutely horrible without knowing it.
Maybe he’s mad, because he got caught by Himchan, and I didn’t, Daehyun thinks naïvely, maybe he’s mad because he told me to be careful and he was so caught up on that that he wasn’t careful about himself, so he got caught, and it’s all my fault. And almost as if it were a true fact and not something that Daehyun completely made up in his head, Daehyun says, straight to Youngjae, all the way across the other side of the table (of course, not before making sure there was no food in his mouth, just in case that was the thing that was making Youngjae so irritated), “I’m sorry!”
Youngjae looks at him with shocked eyes and a set mouth, clamped tight over his chopsticks. “Excuse me?” He asks carefully over the utensil in his mouth, and Daehyun’s pretty sure now that the talking-with-food-in-your-mouth thing isn’t what’s making Youngjae angry.
The atmosphere around them just feels awkward now instead of serious. Daehyun tries his best to ignore it. “Err, um… sorry?” He repeats, although it sounds more like a question now instead of an actual apology.
He should really be using his post-its.
“For what?” Youngjae asks now, and his voice sounds quiet, like he’s trying really hard to sound as okay as possible, and okay, Daehyun might be dense but he’s not that dense. He knows Youngjae’s just faking, and he’s just dying to blow up.
Or something.
Daehyun brings out his post-its, nearly wiping his hands on his sweats before realizing that they aren’t his sweats-they're Jongup’s, and he probably should try to keep them as clean as possible for the time Jongup asks for them back. (Even though Daehyun kind of doesn’t want to give them back, because they’re actually really comfortable clothes and they smell a little bit like Jongup when he brings the sleeve of the hoodie close enough to his nose.) (Daehyun doesn’t want to think about how totally creepy that thought was.) I don’t know. He writes before peeling the post-it off the stack and stamping it on the table, as close to Youngjae as he can reach. For… for whatever reason that your mad.
The look on Youngjae’s face drops even more, and it kind of reminds Daehyun of the face Jongup made when he told him that the almost-kiss was an accident. And the blonde thinks, just for a moment, what the hell do I keep saying that’s making everyone around me so depressed? Youngjae sets his fork down on his plate, apparently done with eating for now. (Which was crazy because this food was absolutely delicious-how can someone stop eating it just like that?) “Look,” The genius says, sounding extremely tired, like Daehyun’s the last person on the earth he wants to have this conversation with, and Daehyun thinks about stopping him, about telling him it’s okay if he doesn’t tell him, but he doesn’t really want to. Youngjae’s like his best friend (one of his only friends), and he wants the younger boy to be able to tell him everything and anything, “it’s not... it's not that I’m angry. I’m just-just a little bit… preoccupied right now.”
“Preoccupied?” Daehyun questions, taking another bite of food, trying to act as casual as possible. Trying to act like he isn’t worried as fuck about Youngjae. “Preoccupied about what?”
“About… things,” Youngjae explains vaguely, looking entirely conflicted, like he wants to tell Daehyun, but he can’t, and Daehyun has to stop himself-has to tell himself that it would be wrong-to use his powers and manipulate Youngjae into telling him what the hell’s the matter, “Uh, look, Daehyun hyung, I don’t really want to talk about this right now…”
And Daehyun has to tell himself, no, don’t do it, he will hate you forever, don’t you dare do it. “Youngjae, tell me what’s wrong."
And it’s too late.
Youngjae’s eyes shoot up at Daehyun so fast that the blonde is a little amazed he isn't dizzy. He sees betrayal heavy in the rings of his pupils as he scoots his chair back and clamps his hand over his mouth to keep from saying anything, and Daehyun really wants to take it back, but he also really doesn’t want to see another one of his friends so sad. “Daehyun hyung, I-” He hears, and the thing Youngjae does next breaks his heart, “I hate you, w-why, why would you do something like that?” He’s banging his hands against his head, like he’s trying to keep from saying anything else, and his face is pale, like it’s taking him all he has to do it. “Are you trying to ruin everything?”
“Youngjae, no, I’m sorry, I just-you, you’re my best friend, and I need to know what’s wrong.” Daehyun silently prays Youngjae understands-that he will understand, sooner or later
“You don’t want to know, okay?” He screams, and Daehyun feels panicked, he hasn’t been yelled at, not in a long time, and it’s like he’s at the base for a second, for just a split second when Youngjae takes a step forward like he’s about to lash out at the blonde. Daehyun drops his fork onto his plate and nearly falls out of his chair trying to get away. “You don’t, so hurry up and take it back,” Desperation laces the timbre of his shaking voice, and Daehyun shakes his head, caught between his curiosity and the complete wrath of Youngjae’s words, “hurry up and take it back before I say something that we’ll both regret!”
Daehyun stammers, spewing in a rush, “I can’t do that, Youngjae.” I can’t, even if it means I’ll lose you forever. Because I know. I know whatever this is-it’s eating you up inside, and I’m not going to let that happen.
“God,” Youngjae says, and his voice breaks, his lip quivers, and he’s crying. Tears are falling down his cheeks and sobs are ripping out of his teeth, and Daehyun immediately stands up, forgetting whatever fear he had before, whatever fear of being hit and abused, because Youngjae’s crying, and he did that, and it just kills him, “you and Jongup are so stupid, you know that? Really, really dumb, and that-that’s what’s bothering me. You two don’t know how good-how absolutely great you have it. You two can have something totally amazing, and you aren’t doing anything about it when I-I’m-” A hiccup interrupts whatever Youngjae has to say next, or maybe he just doesn’t want to say whatever he has to say next-maybe the reason why Youngjae has his teeth clamped over his bottom lip is because he’s about to say whatever thing he’s been trying to hide from Daehyun, and Daehyun waits in anticipation for whatever he has to say next. He waits for it as he takes three giant steps toward Youngjae in an attempt to envelop the younger boy into a hug. “Daehyun hyung, I-l…"
And before Daehyun can reach him, before Youngjae even has a chance to finish his sentence, the genius has this look of pure terror on his face with another quiet sob trailing off his tongue. He flinches away from Daehyun’s fingertips and bolts right up the stairs, faster than Daehyun even has time to react.
So fast that Daehyun can’t even hear him whimper the rest of the sentence underneath his breath.
Jongup's not exactly sure what to feel at the moment.
He's narrowed it down to feeling absolutely guilty, somewhat ecstatic, and just plain shocked, and there are about a million and one reasons why he should be feeling all three, but it's still confusing, and all he can think right now is what in the world.
What in the fucking world.
And it's not exactly the most intricate thing in the world-it isn't even grammarly correct-but it's the best thing that summarizes everything that he's feeling.
And Jongup asks himself, 'Is grammarly even word?' like that's the most important thing in the world to figure out right now.
Like he doesn't have to figure out what the hell he's going to do about Daehyun and how the hell he's supposed to do it when he knows Youngjae's going to be there too, hurting every step of the way. Like he doesn't have to find a way to actually tell the blonde without simultaneously ruining his friendship with Youngjae.
And Jongup feels like his world is crumbling right beneath his feet and being put back together again all at the same time, because the mere thought of saying the word I love you at the expense of one of the best friendships he's ever had is enough to make him sick and it's enough to make him incredibly happy. (Because Daehyun loves him. He loves him, and it's not fair, because Youngjae loves him too.)
He wishes there could be a way for things to be different-a way to let the three of them live happily ever after instead of the other around, but there isn't and he's stuck with this giant hole in the pit of his stomach and a little tremor in his heart.
There's a knock on his door, and Jongup's still stuck standing in the bathroom where Youngjae left him, and Himchan's voice is ringing through his door, "Hey! Open up! My hands are full, so I can't open the door!"
And the only productive thought in Jongup's head is, 'Ohh, it' grammatically not grammarly.'
(He is so totally and thoroughly screwed.)
"Jongup!" He hears again-shouted loud even through the hollow wood of his door-and this time, the sound is enough to shock Jongup out of whatever epiphany or pointless thought babble he was having. "Jongup, seriously, open the door! I have food that I worked very hard to cook and it is getting cold."
"Sorry, Himchannie hyung," Jongup shouts, almost on instinct, before running over to his door as fast as he can and yanking it open.
The hinges follow close behind, and Jongup's left standing there, door in the air, hand curled tight against the doorknob with Himchan standing in front of him, hands occupied by two plates of kimchi, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. And Jongup's about to apologize as fast as he can-is about to throw the door straight to the ground and bow and spew apologies, because wow, he is such klutz and oh my God, Himchan is going to b s mad. But then something totally unexpected happens and Himchan just steps into his room-all calm and collected-and sets the plates down on his bed just a few inches away. And it's completely crazy and illogical, because Jongup's about to go insane-is about to babble and throw a fit just at the mere sight of the door in his hands, and Himchan-Himchan who's supposed to be totally freaking out right now is telling him to, "Calm down." and how can he say something like that? How can he say something like that when he doesn't know what the heck just happened and how much pain-how much gut twisting and heart wrenching pain he's caused-and-and how horrible it is, because Jongup's actually happy about it, he's fucking overjoyed-stomach flipping in the best way possible and heart skyrocketing-when Youngjae-Youngjae's dying inside And he knows-he felt it for fuck's sake and what the hell is he gonna do-
The room's starting to get dizzy and Jongup's breathing is doing this weird wheezing thing and he's getting rightfully scared because he can't breathe, oh my God, why can't he breathe, what the hell is happening? His chest feels like it's collapsing in on itself and his eyes are getting fuzzy, vision blocked by tears, and the only thing he sees is Himchan, a spark of fear in his brown eyes as he steps closer to him, looking just as scared as the younger feels. And his head hurts and he can't even think and he's scared-so horribly scared-
Until suddenly, he feels arms wrapping around the back of his neck, and he's being pulled into one of the biggest bear hugs in the world. Himchan's smoothing a hand through his hair and making little shushing noises, and that's nearly enough to make Jongup instantly feel better, because his breathing is starting to come back to him and his chest isn't doing that weird crushing thing and he doesn't feel like crying anymore even though his head still hurts. "Shhh, you're alright. Just calm down Jonguppie. Calm down and take deep, slow breaths." the older man instructs, and Jongup listens, manipulating his breaths to match a slow and steady pace. It's getting better-the breathing-and Jongup's amazed Himchan knew exactly what to do and say.
"How-" Jongup tries, but his voice is still a little weak and he can't seem to form a proper sentence.
"How did I know what to do?" Himchan finishes for him, and all Jongup can do his nod faintly, burrowing his head into the older man's neck. "Normally I would probably say that it's because I'm so amazing and all knowing," A breathy chuckle somehow snakes its way through Jongup's mouth and into the crook of Himchan's shoulder, and the younger can imagine the little grin on Himchan's face at being able to make him laugh, "but honestly, I knew you were having a panic attack, and I just did what Yongguk used to do for me whenever I had them as a kid."
Jongup looks at Himchan the best he can with his face glued to the shoulder of his shirt. "You had panic attacks?"
Himchan shifts his head so that he can look down at Jongup, and he smiles-smiles something absolutely gentle and understanding, and Jongup thinks, even if the world were to end, Himchan would still be there, smiling and reassuring him that everything was going to be alright. "Oh, yeah," He admits, "all the time. I don't know if you knew this before, but back then, in elementary school, I used to be blamed a lot for a bunch of different stuff."
"You did?" Jongup asks with his eyes wide like he can't find a single reason why anyone would do that
A tiny chuckle leaves Himchan's mouth. "Yeah, weird, right? They just couldn't appreciate my awesomeness back then," Jongup cracks a small smile, and he can tell Himchan's trying his best not to laugh, "so they just... I don’t know. They kind of just took it out on me the only way they knew how. They told me that I ruined everything for everybody all the time. They pushed and prodded at me about it all the time, and after a while, I actually started believing them. I thought I actually had to do something to fix it-fix me. And-and when I couldn't find a way to do that, it just set an alarm off in my head and I started having them." The air around Himchan suddenly turns serious and Jongup has no idea what he’s supposed to do about it, because Himchan’s looking at him now, and he’s not smiling, and he knows he’s going to say something incredibly important and the only thing Jongup can do is listen, even though the only thing he he wants to do is make it all better. “Is that how you feel?”
And Jongup doesn’t really know what to say, because yes, it is how he feels. It’s exactly how he feels-he feels like he’s wrecking everything and no matter what he’s going to do he’s just going to end up breaking everything he touches. Just like his door, ripping at the hinges right under his fingertips. He tries to answer, tries to tell Himchan what’s been wrong, but Himchan looks like he already knows and he just smiles and hugs Jongup tighter, like he’s the most important thing in the world right now. Jongup has to stop himself from pulling him closer, because in the state he’s in he would probably just end up shattering the older man’s shoulder blades. “Hyung,” Jongup says, and it hurts. It hurts and he doesn’t know how to make it stop, “hyung, I’m such a horrible person.”
“Don’t say that.” Himchan mumbles and Jongup scoots himself back, looking straight up into Himchan’s eyes.
“But I am.” Jongup insists, feeling desperate, because Himchan’s comforting him when he really should be comforting Youngjae. Jongup has nothing to be sad about while Youngjae has all the reason in the world, but Jongup’s the one who’s getting all of the comfort and it’s awful. “I am the worst friend on the planet, hyung-I’m so clueless-” and he’s about to tell him about Youngjae and his crush. He’s about to tell Himchan absolutely everything, but then he realizes that would probably make everything ten times worse and he doesn’t have the right to go around telling everyone about it, even though Youngjae might’ve told him. “Did you know that Daehyun hyung likes me back?” Himchan looks shocked but at the same time he really doesn’t, and Jongup feels a little offended. “Wait, you knew, didn’t you?”
Himchan tries to look like he doesn’t know what the heck Jongup’s talking about but then the younger shoots him a look and he gives up, saying, “Well, of course I knew,” with a hint of indignance in his words. “He made it obvious-I mean, come on, he tried to kiss you, Jongup. Friends don’t try to kiss other friends unless it means something.” And Jongup feels a little bit betrayed and kind of stupid because wow, that totally makes a lot of sense, what the fuck was he thinking before.
“See?!” Jongup says, voice rising a little bit higher in octave. “This is exactly why I’m such a horrible person! I didn’t see it at all, and I had the nerve to blame Youngjae, because I thought Daehyun liked him and not me!” He feels downright ridiculous and Himchan’s looking at him like he’s some kind of innocent and lost little kid, and it’s kind of annoying even though Jongup knows it’s probably really, really true. “Please don’t look at me like that, hyung, I’m honestly freaking out right now!” And then Himchan laughs and Jongup has to keep himself from stomping a foot right through the wood of his floor. “This isn’t funny, hyung!”
Through little fits of laughter, Himchan says, “I know,” but he doesn’t really sound like he means it, “sorry, sorry, I just-you really are too cute, you know that?” Jongup clenches his jaw and takes a step back from the older man. “You know the only thing you have to do is tell him, right? Why are you making things so difficult? You already know he likes you back!”
And Jongup kind of wants to shout that it isn’t that simple, because he has Youngjae to worry about and he really doesn’t want to ruin things any more than he already has. “Yeah, but what if I ruin everything-”
Himchan snorts. “Look, you like him, right?”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“And he likes you too?”
Jongup flushes, “Y-yeah…”
“Then you have nothing to worry about!”
“But-but what about Youngjae hyung!” And Jongup doesn’t even care if Himchan understands that reference or not; he just needs advice.
And like Jongup expects, Himchan gives him this look like he’s crazy. “What does Youngjae have to do with this?” When Jongup doesn’t answer him, he just rolls his eyes. “No, you know what? Don’t make up excuses just because you’re scared.” And Jongup resents that, because he is not scared. This isn’t some excuse… Right? “Youngjae brought you up here to tell you to go after Daehyun, right?”
“How’d you know that?”
Himchan just shakes his head. “You suddenly find out that Daehyun likes you right after Youngjae brings you upstairs to talk? Yeah, don’t think so. He told you.” Jongup doesn’t even have time to feel insulted. “Anyways, he basically told you, straight to your face, that you should jus tell him, right?”
Jongup hesitates before nodding.
“Then why in the world would he be opposed to you two?”
Jongup’s starting to get a little confused himself, and almost as if Himchan sees that, he sighs, and just walks over to Jongup’s bed, bringing a plate of kimchi over his lap. Jongup follows him, like a puppy.
As they eat, Himchan says, voice laced with reassurance. “Don’t worry about anything anymore, alright? Hyung will handle it.” And the discussion ends there.
Jongup doesn’t know whether to feel safe or not with Himchan involved
Youngjae honestly doesn’t even think when he runs upstairs. There’s a hole in his heart and tears in his eyes, and he doesn’t even think-not even when his feet hit the floor and he runs down the hallway, straight to a familiar gray-green wood. It’s basically just his brain, screaming at him to run, run, and run. Run before Daehyun figures it out.
Run before you open your stupid mouth again and make things ten times more difficult.
(And Youngjae doesn’t even argue that it was basically Daehyun’s fault, not his, because his head just tells him that it’ always his fault, and he can’t do anything to change that.)
Panic is tied tight to the front of Youngjae’s mind, and he still doesn’t think-refuses to. He just lets his ability control him now, because he’s doesn’t feel like fighting it-he doesn’t feel like fighting that little voice in the back of his head telling him what to do. That little voice that wanted him to wreck his entire relationship with both Daehyun and Jongup because they were useless to you anyway-they don’t matter one little bit-
And Youngjae doesn’t think-not even when he barges into Junhong’s room without so much as a knock and sees the familiar boy, lying there, not an ounce of shock hidden in his eyes when he sees Youngjae standing there, tears in his eyes and breath heavy.
The only time the genius thinks is when Junhong calls his name, and snaps him out of whatever trance his ability sucked him into.
“Youngjae hyung, come here,” Junhong’s commanding-voice much too quiet (Youngjae can barely hear him), and Youngjae’s a little confused, but he’s too weak to argue, so he just listens and speed walks to the side of Junhong’s bed. When he makes it there, Junhong’s pulling him in so fast Youngjae can’t even yelp, and he has no idea what the fuck Junhong’s doing, but he just goes with it, falling headfirst into his shoulder. That familiar feeling of getting his emotions sucked right out of him hits him like a pillow-soft and almost comfortable, and Junhong’s saying again, in a voice laced with a small sort of panic, “stay under the blanket until I tell you it’s okay to come out, alright?” And before Youngjae can argue, the blanket’s being pulled right over his head and Junhong’s arranging his body so that Youngjae’s lying directly on top of the his legs and they almost look like one person beneath the youngest’s bedsheets. Youngjae feels a pillow along with Junhong’s long arms being thrown over his head, and he supposes this situation is supposed to be comical, but at the moment, face pressed somewhere into Junhong’s stomach, Youngjae doesn’t find it very funny.
Somewhere in the background, beneath Junhong’s breathing and his steady heartbeat, Youngjae hears a toilet flushing.
“Hey, Yongguk hyung,” Youngjae hears Junhong say, and he silently presses himself further into the boy’s stomach, attempting to disappear but failing miserably, “do you have any more questions or…?”
The leader’s gruff voice answers and Youngjae detects a little hint of reluctance in his voice. “Uh, sort of.” Youngjae feels a little bit claustrophobic at the thought of having to stay under here for that long before Junhong’s new ability’s making it all vanish again. “But, you know what? We’ve made a lot of progress today, and it’s probably been a really long day for the both of us; let’s just save the rest of the questions for another day.” Junhong’s stomach contracts beneath Youngjae’s head and the genius figures out he’s sighing (although it’s too quiet for them to hear), relief evident in the way he moves his hands and discreetly pokes the older boy in the side. Youngjae has to fight a sudden urge to smile, and he doesn’t really know why. “Is that alright with you?”
“Yeah.” Junhong says, voice unusually low, and Youngjae realizes, a hint of amusement in the back of his head, that he’s trying to imitate his robot voice. It’s never occurred to him that something like that-something like Junhong’s voice, cold as concrete and icy as rain-can be so funny. “Bye, hyung.” Junhong says, and Youngjae can feel the suspicion dripping off of every pore in Yongguk’s body, but he supposes the older man plays it off as another unusual part of Junhong’s condition, because he hears the sudden sound of Junhong’s door closing shut along with Yongguk’s reply just a moment later.
“Bye, Junhong, see you tomorrow.”
And then Youngjae’s throwing the pillow off his head with a huff and he sees Junhong looking down at him with a spark in his eyes, and Youngjae kind of wants to stay like this forever, because everything seems right here. Daehyun and Jongup won’t be dating by the morning and Junhong can actually feel (even though Youngjae knows it’s at the expense of his own emotions) and everything is fine and Youngjae wasn’t just crying a moment before. “Sorry,” Junhong’s saying, and Youngjae sees a hint of a smile on his face even though it’s getting just a little bit harder for him to feel relieved by it, “Yongguk hyung was in the bathroom and I didn’t think you would want him to see you crying.” A hand-Junhong’s-finds its way toward Youngjae’s cheek and with a feather light touch, Junhong is tracing the tip of his finger along the edges of Youngjae’s dark brown eyes, wiping away tears along his way. “What happened?” And Youngjae suddenly forgets why he was crying in the first place.
“I-I don’t really… know anymore-” Youngjae says and that’s definitely not his voice. He sounds like Junhong-like robot Junhong, and it should be scary, but it’s really not and he still wants to stay like this even though he’s pretty sure that they should stop.
Junhong feels it too, somehow, because he’s shifting on the bed, hands finding their way to Youngjae’s sides to gently move him off to the side of the bed, away from him. Before he can, Youngjae finds himself hooking his hands around the back of Junhong’s waist. A nervous chuckle snakes its way up Junhong’s throat and Youngjae can feel it in his stomach, and it’s a pretty amazing feeling, but Junhong’s still trying (although rather feebly) to get Youngjae to let go, at least for a second. “Come on, hyung, what are you doing? You’re not going to have any emotions left if you keep this up-” And Youngjae’s not sure if that’s true or not-isn’t sure if that can actually happen, but he kind of wants to find out if it can.
“Don’t care,” He mumbles into the younger boy’s stomach and Youngjae swears he can hear a flip somewhere there, and he feels one too, in his own stomach, before Junhong’s hands are lacing with his around his back and he’s prying Youngjae’s hands off as gently as possible.
“Yes, you do, hyung.” Junhong says, matter-o-factly, gracing Youngjae with a sloppy smirk as he carefully moves the genius to the left side of the bed, scooting himself a safe distance away. Youngjae groans, a sudden bout of joy and despair hitting him all at the same time for no apparent reason until he remembers that those were his emotions-emotions he felt before Junhong took them away.
The words travel out of Youngjae's mouth before he even knows they’re leaving it. “You suck.”
Youngjae swears he hears a little eyeroll in Junhong’s voice when he replies, “Whatever. You’ll thank me later.”
“No, I won’t. I will hate you. Forever.” Youngjae retorts, eyelashes fluttering open to see Junhong smiling down at him. His eyebrows furrow together. “Hey, when did that happen?”
Junhong looks a little bit confused and Youngjae’s pretty sure he feels a little bit puzzled himself. “When did what happen?”
(And, okay, Youngjae might be feeling a lot confused, because how is Junhong doing that?)
“You’re being all confused and happy and I’m not even touching you.” Youngjae says and he even goes as far as to look down at himself and as sure as he is that Daehyun loves Jongup, he is definitely not making any contact whatsoever with Junhong. (And yeah, that probably wasn’t the best comparison, because Youngjae’s feeling a little sad again and he’s starting to remember why he was crying, and ouch, he just made himself depressed.)
Almost as if Junhong senses that, he takes Youngjae’s hands, almost experimentally, and the pain dies down some. “It confused me a little too. But hey-I think I’m getting better.” Junhong exclaims, giving him a toothy smile and Youngjae smile-snorts, scooting a little bit closer. “You, on the other hand, are not. I can feel it.” As if to emphasize his point, he traces a long finger down the older man’s wrist, and Youngjae tries really hard not to smile. “So spill.”
And Youngjae kind of doesn’t want to talk about it right now, but he can practically feel the persistence radiating off of Junhong’s body, and he knows the younger’s not going to let him avoid this. “Two conditions,” Youngjae states, sighing, looking up at Junhong through long eyelashes. The younger looks ready to do just about anything. “One, you tell me what you and Yongguk talked about.” He’s not entirely too curious about it, but Youngjae needs to make sure the situation is even between them, so if Youngjae gets to rant, Junhong has to rant too.
“Done.” Junhong says confidently. “And the other condition?”
“I get cuddles.” And Youngjae doesn’t even feel embarrassed when he admits that he wants them, because he fucking deserves them right now after all that he’s done. “Lots of cuddles.”
And Junhong only laughs at him, shaking his head even as he says, “Whatever you want, hyung.”
Junhong doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this relaxed.
It’s a great change of pace from what he’s been feeling (which has been nothing at all, but that’s beside the point), and Junhong kind of really wants to thank Youngjae, because without him, all of this would probably be impossible, but with all of the talking they’ve been doing, there’s been no room for thank you’s, and Junhong has to push it further back, behind all the then-what-happened-nexts and the and-then-this-happeneds and the oh-my-goodness-that-sounds-awfuls, because right now, nothing’s more important than Youngjae.
And it feels absolutely right to Junhong with Youngjae curled up to his side, remembering every once in a while to pull away for just a second or two. “And then Daehyun hyung commanded me to tell him what was wrong with me, and I couldn’t tell him I loved him-not after all that I did for Jongup-so I just sort of ran upstairs to your room.” Youngjae pauses for a second and Junhong can feel he’s holding something back, so he kind of prods him in the cheek, enough to make him laugh, roll his eyes, and continue. “Okay, well, I might’ve… sort of… yelled at him a little before that.” He feels a little ashamed at that, but Junhong feels nothing but pride, and he’s not afraid to show Youngjae that he is, giving him a little squeeze to the shoulder and a little whoop of approval.
Youngjae smacks him lightly on the abdomen and Junhong actually feels it (and the cuts on his stomach practically scream because of it) but it still feels sort of amazing despite the pain. “I didn’t know you had it in you, hyung.” Junhong teases and Youngjae gives him a sour look that Junhong returns not a second later.
“Whatever,” Youngjae huffs, but Junhong can feel that he wants to say more-wants to say more about how you’ve known me long enough; don’t act like you’re surprised and Junhong smiles and sort of doesn’t want to all at the same time, because he knows he has to let go again, just for a few minutes, even though he really doesn’t want to. Youngjae does it for him, slipping out of his hands to lie down on the pillow instead of on Junhong’s arm. “Your turn.” Youngjae states, as if Junhong didn’t remember, suppressing a tiny yawn.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Junhong says and continues before Youngjae has enough time to argue. “I know you’re tired, so you’ll just end up falling asleep on me if I did tell you.”
And he knows he makes a very valid argument that Youngjae can’t argue with, but instead of saying something like, ‘fine’ and crawling out of bed, Youngjae still manages to surprise him, pulling the blankets over the both of them and resolutely shutting his eyes. “Fine. Second condition changes now, since you absolutely failed to fulfill my previous one.”
Junhong laughs, but he can feel the sudden pull yanking at his emotions, stripping him of them way too fast for his liking. “What do you want now?” He asks, trying to sound annoyed, but all he can feel is joy.
Joy and fear.
“I want to sleep in here tonight.” Youngjae states, resolutely curling himself into a small ball next to Junhong’s side, close enough for Junhong to reach over and hold.
And Junhong can’t exactly argue with Youngjae already half-asleep, so he just smiles, saying in a hushed whisper, “As you wish, your highness.” Sort of joking and sort of not.
And for just a minute, looking at Youngjae-at his brunette hair falling right over shut shiny, sad, and tired brown eyes, at his fingers curled right up to his chest in one of the most adorable ways possible, and at the slow expansions and retractions of his chest-Junhong thinks that he might be falling.
He thinks that he might be falling so hard and so high from the top of the tallest building, and he thinks that he might be okay with that.
Because a second later, he doesn’t feel anything at all again
-----
Previous | Next
Author: ivoryroyale
Genre: supernatural, drama, friendship, hurt/comfort, romance
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, very brief mentions of bullying and abuse
Summary: in which a group of six aren't afraid to stand tall because they have each other.
Note: 7,626 words. Unbeta-ed.
-----
[ proloque] [ chapter 1] [ chapter 2] [ chapter 3] [ chapter 4] [ chapter 5] [ chapter 6] [ chapter 7] [ chapter 8] [ chapter 9] [ chapter 10] [ chapter 11] [ chapter 12] [ chapter 13] [ chapter 14] [ chapter 15] [ chapter 16] [ chapter 17] [ chapter 18] [ chapter 19] [ chapter 20]
not afraid to fall
chapter twenty
To say that it absolutely kills Yongguk to see Junhong like this would be a complete understatement.
It took him, literally, ten minutes just to force himself through the door-the kimchi semi-warm and his heart already dropping at the sight of Junhong lying there, blank as a sheet, staring down at his bandaged abdomen. "Hey," The oldest says, gripping the two plates tighter in his hands as he forces a smile and steps through the doorway. Closing the door again with his hip, he continues, "I brought kimchi." And then he thinks for a moment and adds as an afterthought, as if Junhong had possibly forgotten, "Your favorite."
A vacant stare along with a more than fake smile is his only reply, and he fights to keep the smile plastered on his face as well, making his way over to the bed and setting the plates on Junhong's nightstand with a little clunk. "Oh, hey, hyung. I wasn't expecting you. I thought Youngjae hyung was going to bring me the food."
"Yeah, well," Yongguk says, sighing silently, taking the empty seat next to Junhong's bed, "you're just going to need to settle with me. Hopefully I didn't wreck your guys' date."
"Date?" Junhong asks, like he doesn't mind one bit if Yongguk mistook his and Youngjae's hanging out as a date. "I don't think Youngjae hyung would appreciate it if you called it a date." He goes on to explain, sounding completely serious, and Yongguk doesn't know whether to feel a little disappointed or a tiny bit amused
"I was just joking, Junhong."
And Junhong doesn't even seem the least bit phased when he says, "Oh," blinking about twenty times a second as if that would be enough to mask the complete hollowness behind his actions. "I didn’t know that." The utter blandness of his voice is almost enough for Yongguk to bolt right out of the room in a mixture of anger and hopelessness, because he can't-physically can't-do this. Not when it's Junhong. Not when it's the boy he's loved and cared for since he was seventeen. Since he first laid eyes on him at age eleven, kicking a soccer ball carelessly in the front yard belonging to one of his endless foster parents at the time--the black and white of the ball a mere blur because of Junhong's super speed. It’s not easy when the person that’s supposed to be your son, who used to practically worship you-love you more than anything in the world-suddenly just stops, and you have to live with the fact that you weren’t there for him. That this-this emptiness in front of you and the utter loneliness that you feel in your stomach whenever you look at it-is all your fault and you can’t. Do. A fucking. Thing. About it.
It’s enough to make Yongguk’s blood boil and his heart to fall down to his knees, and the only thing that’s keeping him sane and giving him solace is the fact that, from the corner of his eye, he sees Junhong’s fist practically clinging to his bedsheets-a silent sign that Junhong is at least trying. (And Yongguk won’t admit it out loud for fear of being wrong, but he also silently fools himself into believing that it’s Junhong’s new way of expressing distress-distress that he can’t feel a fucking thing and he knows that it’s slowly breaking Yongguk’s heart.
“So,” Yongguk starts again, rather awkwardly, desperately trying to find a way to get his head to stop thinking by rambling (because thinking equals thoughts about how much he hates this which equals immense amounts of hurt so therefore, thinking is bad, bad, bad), “you hungry?” He asks, bringing the two plates of food closer to him, balancing one on his knee while simultaneously bringing the other to sit in Junhong’s lap
He silently hopes that the answer isn't a flat no.
"That depends," Junhong says instead, and it catches Yongguk completely by surprise, "are you hungry?"
For a moment, Yongguk’s a little bit confused. “Uh, yeah, I guess I am a little hungry. Why?"
And then Junhong’s hand is suddenly tracing the outline of his knuckles, and there’s a moment where Yongguk feels a little bit panicked before it slowly slips away (like, it legitimately disappears), and he knows it should probably scare him, but the feeling is somewhat addictive in a way. His mind's stopped thinking about Junhong and he feels okay for the first time around Junhong in a while.
Then Junhong says, “Hyung,” in a voice full of hurt and agony, and Yongguk’s shocked and surprised and confused all over again, “you really feel that way around me?"
And Yongguk knows almost instantly that something’s wrong.
So he pulls his hand away, and all the hurt crashes back onto him like a hurricane, like one of his father’s horrible drinking sessions, like a fire surrounding him, and it suddenly feels like he’s a teenager again, standing in front of his dad, yelling curses and slurs of fear. It hurts ten times more than it did before and Yongguk has to physically flinch away, has to actually curl up, because he feels a familiar heat traveling up his spine and toward his fingertips and he does not want to start another house fire again. “What the fuck was that?” Yongguk demands hoarsely and through clouded eyes, he sees Junhong. He sees Junhong, and he looks genuinely scared. He’s not faking it anymore-it’s not some half-assed attempt to get Yongguk to stop worrying-and Yongguk’s almost scared he’s imagining it.
(Please don’t be imagining it.)
“Oh my God,” Junhong says, eyes full of a foreign panic as his eyes glue themselves to Yongguk’s crumpled form, “hyung, are you okay? I’m so sorry!”
“What was that?” He repeats, flames dying at his fingertips, anger and pain cooling in his throat. (Because the thought of Junhong actually feeling something calms him down better than any other tranquilizer or narcotic could.)
But then Yongguk sees the small spark of dread in Junhong’s eyes slowly dimming; he sees Junhong’s mouth, once set into a line of worry, returning back to a blank line, and Yongguk almost wants to plead, no, no, no, don’t do that, please, don’t do that
Don’t disappear on me again.
“I don’t know,” Junhong says in a rush, like he can feel it to, like he knows the feeling is going to slip away again, and he wants to say as much as possible in his voice-his normal voice thriving with emotion-and not the other voice. The other voice laced with ice. And Yongguk thinks Junhong’s super speed activated somewhere along the way without him meaning to, because the words coming out of the younger boy’s mouth are almost incoherent-too fast to understand, “I don’t know-I just-Youngjae figured out that whenever I make skin to skin contact with someone, I can feel again-I can feel whatever the person I’m touching is feeling, and it’s kind of amazing, and it’s kind of not, because the emotions-they’re not mine, and I know they’re not mine, even though it feels like they are.” Junhong takes in another deep breath, and then he says, even faster, except Yongguk hears the emotion visibly slipping right out of every word, out of every little letter, “and lately, hyung… lately, I don’t know.” There’s a moment where Junhong struggles, and Yongguk doesn’t know whether or not it’s because most of the emotion is gone and he only has a minimal amount to go off on or because he’s trying to find the right words to say. “Lately, I’m starting to develop feelings of my own, and it only happens after I nearly completely drain another person’s emotions, but hyung, it feels amazing-it’s amazing to actually feel again-and I really, really don’t want to go back to feeling like that, because it’s horrible, hyung, it’s horrible, and I don’t want to go back to that, please, please don’t make me go back to feeling like that.” Tears well up somewhere under Junhong’s eyes (or maybe somewhere under Yongguk’s, it’s hard to tell anymore), and then it’s gone, the emotion is gone-there it goes, slipping right before Yongguk’s eyes, right out of his burning fingertips, and once again, the leader can’t do anything about it
And it’s fucking unfair.
“Junhong?” Yongguk asks, voice broken, and he knows it’s dumb, he knows it’s completely senseless, but he wants to make sure. He wants to know, without a doubt, that Junhong’s back to being a complete robot, even though he already knows the answer, and that the brunette’s reply will probably break his heart into a million pieces
And even Yongguk sees the effort Junhong puts in his reply, sees how hard he’s trying to make it sound normal, but no matter how much he tries, it always turns out the same, “Yes?"
And there’re a lot of things that Yongguk can say right now-a lot of things about how that was the weirdest thing ever, don’t ever do it again or how I can’t believe how messed up your power is now or even how I really miss the sound of your voice and the way your eyes sparkle whenever you talk, can we please have that back, please? But instead, Yongguk takes into account how hurt Junhong looked before-how utterly dejected he looked when he saw (or felt, or whatever) all that Yongguk thought about him, and says, “Let’s eat.” Like nothing ever happened
The leader leans forward, bringing the sleeve of his shirt over his hand to wipe the fresh tears out from under Junhong’s eyes, and he almost dies a little when Junhong does the same for Yongguk with his blanket, careful not to make any skin to skin contact. “Okay,” The younger boy tells him, hand still hovering in front of Yongguk’s cheek like he’s trying so hard not to break those few inches it would take to let go and steal his emotions again, “that sounds good.”
And the fact that Yongguk still has to talk about trivial things after all this-still has to force himself to question Junhong about Key and what actually happened that day because it’s important; it’s crucial to the safety of his family-
That’s enough to nearly break him altogether
(He’s so damn tired.)
Daehyun isn’t exactly sure what’s wrong.
He’s sure that he didn’t really do anything to offend Youngjae, (At least he hopes he didn’t-does Youngjae find talking with your mouth full offending?) and he’s sure he didn’t insult him in any way before. He’s sure Youngjae isn’t really the type of person to get irrationally angry like Himchan is, and Daehyun hopes he didn’t do something absolutely horrible without knowing it.
Maybe he’s mad, because he got caught by Himchan, and I didn’t, Daehyun thinks naïvely, maybe he’s mad because he told me to be careful and he was so caught up on that that he wasn’t careful about himself, so he got caught, and it’s all my fault. And almost as if it were a true fact and not something that Daehyun completely made up in his head, Daehyun says, straight to Youngjae, all the way across the other side of the table (of course, not before making sure there was no food in his mouth, just in case that was the thing that was making Youngjae so irritated), “I’m sorry!”
Youngjae looks at him with shocked eyes and a set mouth, clamped tight over his chopsticks. “Excuse me?” He asks carefully over the utensil in his mouth, and Daehyun’s pretty sure now that the talking-with-food-in-your-mouth thing isn’t what’s making Youngjae angry.
The atmosphere around them just feels awkward now instead of serious. Daehyun tries his best to ignore it. “Err, um… sorry?” He repeats, although it sounds more like a question now instead of an actual apology.
He should really be using his post-its.
“For what?” Youngjae asks now, and his voice sounds quiet, like he’s trying really hard to sound as okay as possible, and okay, Daehyun might be dense but he’s not that dense. He knows Youngjae’s just faking, and he’s just dying to blow up.
Or something.
Daehyun brings out his post-its, nearly wiping his hands on his sweats before realizing that they aren’t his sweats-they're Jongup’s, and he probably should try to keep them as clean as possible for the time Jongup asks for them back. (Even though Daehyun kind of doesn’t want to give them back, because they’re actually really comfortable clothes and they smell a little bit like Jongup when he brings the sleeve of the hoodie close enough to his nose.) (Daehyun doesn’t want to think about how totally creepy that thought was.) I don’t know. He writes before peeling the post-it off the stack and stamping it on the table, as close to Youngjae as he can reach. For… for whatever reason that your mad.
The look on Youngjae’s face drops even more, and it kind of reminds Daehyun of the face Jongup made when he told him that the almost-kiss was an accident. And the blonde thinks, just for a moment, what the hell do I keep saying that’s making everyone around me so depressed? Youngjae sets his fork down on his plate, apparently done with eating for now. (Which was crazy because this food was absolutely delicious-how can someone stop eating it just like that?) “Look,” The genius says, sounding extremely tired, like Daehyun’s the last person on the earth he wants to have this conversation with, and Daehyun thinks about stopping him, about telling him it’s okay if he doesn’t tell him, but he doesn’t really want to. Youngjae’s like his best friend (one of his only friends), and he wants the younger boy to be able to tell him everything and anything, “it’s not... it's not that I’m angry. I’m just-just a little bit… preoccupied right now.”
“Preoccupied?” Daehyun questions, taking another bite of food, trying to act as casual as possible. Trying to act like he isn’t worried as fuck about Youngjae. “Preoccupied about what?”
“About… things,” Youngjae explains vaguely, looking entirely conflicted, like he wants to tell Daehyun, but he can’t, and Daehyun has to stop himself-has to tell himself that it would be wrong-to use his powers and manipulate Youngjae into telling him what the hell’s the matter, “Uh, look, Daehyun hyung, I don’t really want to talk about this right now…”
And Daehyun has to tell himself, no, don’t do it, he will hate you forever, don’t you dare do it. “Youngjae, tell me what’s wrong."
And it’s too late.
Youngjae’s eyes shoot up at Daehyun so fast that the blonde is a little amazed he isn't dizzy. He sees betrayal heavy in the rings of his pupils as he scoots his chair back and clamps his hand over his mouth to keep from saying anything, and Daehyun really wants to take it back, but he also really doesn’t want to see another one of his friends so sad. “Daehyun hyung, I-” He hears, and the thing Youngjae does next breaks his heart, “I hate you, w-why, why would you do something like that?” He’s banging his hands against his head, like he’s trying to keep from saying anything else, and his face is pale, like it’s taking him all he has to do it. “Are you trying to ruin everything?”
“Youngjae, no, I’m sorry, I just-you, you’re my best friend, and I need to know what’s wrong.” Daehyun silently prays Youngjae understands-that he will understand, sooner or later
“You don’t want to know, okay?” He screams, and Daehyun feels panicked, he hasn’t been yelled at, not in a long time, and it’s like he’s at the base for a second, for just a split second when Youngjae takes a step forward like he’s about to lash out at the blonde. Daehyun drops his fork onto his plate and nearly falls out of his chair trying to get away. “You don’t, so hurry up and take it back,” Desperation laces the timbre of his shaking voice, and Daehyun shakes his head, caught between his curiosity and the complete wrath of Youngjae’s words, “hurry up and take it back before I say something that we’ll both regret!”
Daehyun stammers, spewing in a rush, “I can’t do that, Youngjae.” I can’t, even if it means I’ll lose you forever. Because I know. I know whatever this is-it’s eating you up inside, and I’m not going to let that happen.
“God,” Youngjae says, and his voice breaks, his lip quivers, and he’s crying. Tears are falling down his cheeks and sobs are ripping out of his teeth, and Daehyun immediately stands up, forgetting whatever fear he had before, whatever fear of being hit and abused, because Youngjae’s crying, and he did that, and it just kills him, “you and Jongup are so stupid, you know that? Really, really dumb, and that-that’s what’s bothering me. You two don’t know how good-how absolutely great you have it. You two can have something totally amazing, and you aren’t doing anything about it when I-I’m-” A hiccup interrupts whatever Youngjae has to say next, or maybe he just doesn’t want to say whatever he has to say next-maybe the reason why Youngjae has his teeth clamped over his bottom lip is because he’s about to say whatever thing he’s been trying to hide from Daehyun, and Daehyun waits in anticipation for whatever he has to say next. He waits for it as he takes three giant steps toward Youngjae in an attempt to envelop the younger boy into a hug. “Daehyun hyung, I-l…"
And before Daehyun can reach him, before Youngjae even has a chance to finish his sentence, the genius has this look of pure terror on his face with another quiet sob trailing off his tongue. He flinches away from Daehyun’s fingertips and bolts right up the stairs, faster than Daehyun even has time to react.
So fast that Daehyun can’t even hear him whimper the rest of the sentence underneath his breath.
Jongup's not exactly sure what to feel at the moment.
He's narrowed it down to feeling absolutely guilty, somewhat ecstatic, and just plain shocked, and there are about a million and one reasons why he should be feeling all three, but it's still confusing, and all he can think right now is what in the world.
What in the fucking world.
And it's not exactly the most intricate thing in the world-it isn't even grammarly correct-but it's the best thing that summarizes everything that he's feeling.
And Jongup asks himself, 'Is grammarly even word?' like that's the most important thing in the world to figure out right now.
Like he doesn't have to figure out what the hell he's going to do about Daehyun and how the hell he's supposed to do it when he knows Youngjae's going to be there too, hurting every step of the way. Like he doesn't have to find a way to actually tell the blonde without simultaneously ruining his friendship with Youngjae.
And Jongup feels like his world is crumbling right beneath his feet and being put back together again all at the same time, because the mere thought of saying the word I love you at the expense of one of the best friendships he's ever had is enough to make him sick and it's enough to make him incredibly happy. (Because Daehyun loves him. He loves him, and it's not fair, because Youngjae loves him too.)
He wishes there could be a way for things to be different-a way to let the three of them live happily ever after instead of the other around, but there isn't and he's stuck with this giant hole in the pit of his stomach and a little tremor in his heart.
There's a knock on his door, and Jongup's still stuck standing in the bathroom where Youngjae left him, and Himchan's voice is ringing through his door, "Hey! Open up! My hands are full, so I can't open the door!"
And the only productive thought in Jongup's head is, 'Ohh, it' grammatically not grammarly.'
(He is so totally and thoroughly screwed.)
"Jongup!" He hears again-shouted loud even through the hollow wood of his door-and this time, the sound is enough to shock Jongup out of whatever epiphany or pointless thought babble he was having. "Jongup, seriously, open the door! I have food that I worked very hard to cook and it is getting cold."
"Sorry, Himchannie hyung," Jongup shouts, almost on instinct, before running over to his door as fast as he can and yanking it open.
The hinges follow close behind, and Jongup's left standing there, door in the air, hand curled tight against the doorknob with Himchan standing in front of him, hands occupied by two plates of kimchi, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. And Jongup's about to apologize as fast as he can-is about to throw the door straight to the ground and bow and spew apologies, because wow, he is such klutz and oh my God, Himchan is going to b s mad. But then something totally unexpected happens and Himchan just steps into his room-all calm and collected-and sets the plates down on his bed just a few inches away. And it's completely crazy and illogical, because Jongup's about to go insane-is about to babble and throw a fit just at the mere sight of the door in his hands, and Himchan-Himchan who's supposed to be totally freaking out right now is telling him to, "Calm down." and how can he say something like that? How can he say something like that when he doesn't know what the heck just happened and how much pain-how much gut twisting and heart wrenching pain he's caused-and-and how horrible it is, because Jongup's actually happy about it, he's fucking overjoyed-stomach flipping in the best way possible and heart skyrocketing-when Youngjae-Youngjae's dying inside And he knows-he felt it for fuck's sake and what the hell is he gonna do-
The room's starting to get dizzy and Jongup's breathing is doing this weird wheezing thing and he's getting rightfully scared because he can't breathe, oh my God, why can't he breathe, what the hell is happening? His chest feels like it's collapsing in on itself and his eyes are getting fuzzy, vision blocked by tears, and the only thing he sees is Himchan, a spark of fear in his brown eyes as he steps closer to him, looking just as scared as the younger feels. And his head hurts and he can't even think and he's scared-so horribly scared-
Until suddenly, he feels arms wrapping around the back of his neck, and he's being pulled into one of the biggest bear hugs in the world. Himchan's smoothing a hand through his hair and making little shushing noises, and that's nearly enough to make Jongup instantly feel better, because his breathing is starting to come back to him and his chest isn't doing that weird crushing thing and he doesn't feel like crying anymore even though his head still hurts. "Shhh, you're alright. Just calm down Jonguppie. Calm down and take deep, slow breaths." the older man instructs, and Jongup listens, manipulating his breaths to match a slow and steady pace. It's getting better-the breathing-and Jongup's amazed Himchan knew exactly what to do and say.
"How-" Jongup tries, but his voice is still a little weak and he can't seem to form a proper sentence.
"How did I know what to do?" Himchan finishes for him, and all Jongup can do his nod faintly, burrowing his head into the older man's neck. "Normally I would probably say that it's because I'm so amazing and all knowing," A breathy chuckle somehow snakes its way through Jongup's mouth and into the crook of Himchan's shoulder, and the younger can imagine the little grin on Himchan's face at being able to make him laugh, "but honestly, I knew you were having a panic attack, and I just did what Yongguk used to do for me whenever I had them as a kid."
Jongup looks at Himchan the best he can with his face glued to the shoulder of his shirt. "You had panic attacks?"
Himchan shifts his head so that he can look down at Jongup, and he smiles-smiles something absolutely gentle and understanding, and Jongup thinks, even if the world were to end, Himchan would still be there, smiling and reassuring him that everything was going to be alright. "Oh, yeah," He admits, "all the time. I don't know if you knew this before, but back then, in elementary school, I used to be blamed a lot for a bunch of different stuff."
"You did?" Jongup asks with his eyes wide like he can't find a single reason why anyone would do that
A tiny chuckle leaves Himchan's mouth. "Yeah, weird, right? They just couldn't appreciate my awesomeness back then," Jongup cracks a small smile, and he can tell Himchan's trying his best not to laugh, "so they just... I don’t know. They kind of just took it out on me the only way they knew how. They told me that I ruined everything for everybody all the time. They pushed and prodded at me about it all the time, and after a while, I actually started believing them. I thought I actually had to do something to fix it-fix me. And-and when I couldn't find a way to do that, it just set an alarm off in my head and I started having them." The air around Himchan suddenly turns serious and Jongup has no idea what he’s supposed to do about it, because Himchan’s looking at him now, and he’s not smiling, and he knows he’s going to say something incredibly important and the only thing Jongup can do is listen, even though the only thing he he wants to do is make it all better. “Is that how you feel?”
And Jongup doesn’t really know what to say, because yes, it is how he feels. It’s exactly how he feels-he feels like he’s wrecking everything and no matter what he’s going to do he’s just going to end up breaking everything he touches. Just like his door, ripping at the hinges right under his fingertips. He tries to answer, tries to tell Himchan what’s been wrong, but Himchan looks like he already knows and he just smiles and hugs Jongup tighter, like he’s the most important thing in the world right now. Jongup has to stop himself from pulling him closer, because in the state he’s in he would probably just end up shattering the older man’s shoulder blades. “Hyung,” Jongup says, and it hurts. It hurts and he doesn’t know how to make it stop, “hyung, I’m such a horrible person.”
“Don’t say that.” Himchan mumbles and Jongup scoots himself back, looking straight up into Himchan’s eyes.
“But I am.” Jongup insists, feeling desperate, because Himchan’s comforting him when he really should be comforting Youngjae. Jongup has nothing to be sad about while Youngjae has all the reason in the world, but Jongup’s the one who’s getting all of the comfort and it’s awful. “I am the worst friend on the planet, hyung-I’m so clueless-” and he’s about to tell him about Youngjae and his crush. He’s about to tell Himchan absolutely everything, but then he realizes that would probably make everything ten times worse and he doesn’t have the right to go around telling everyone about it, even though Youngjae might’ve told him. “Did you know that Daehyun hyung likes me back?” Himchan looks shocked but at the same time he really doesn’t, and Jongup feels a little offended. “Wait, you knew, didn’t you?”
Himchan tries to look like he doesn’t know what the heck Jongup’s talking about but then the younger shoots him a look and he gives up, saying, “Well, of course I knew,” with a hint of indignance in his words. “He made it obvious-I mean, come on, he tried to kiss you, Jongup. Friends don’t try to kiss other friends unless it means something.” And Jongup feels a little bit betrayed and kind of stupid because wow, that totally makes a lot of sense, what the fuck was he thinking before.
“See?!” Jongup says, voice rising a little bit higher in octave. “This is exactly why I’m such a horrible person! I didn’t see it at all, and I had the nerve to blame Youngjae, because I thought Daehyun liked him and not me!” He feels downright ridiculous and Himchan’s looking at him like he’s some kind of innocent and lost little kid, and it’s kind of annoying even though Jongup knows it’s probably really, really true. “Please don’t look at me like that, hyung, I’m honestly freaking out right now!” And then Himchan laughs and Jongup has to keep himself from stomping a foot right through the wood of his floor. “This isn’t funny, hyung!”
Through little fits of laughter, Himchan says, “I know,” but he doesn’t really sound like he means it, “sorry, sorry, I just-you really are too cute, you know that?” Jongup clenches his jaw and takes a step back from the older man. “You know the only thing you have to do is tell him, right? Why are you making things so difficult? You already know he likes you back!”
And Jongup kind of wants to shout that it isn’t that simple, because he has Youngjae to worry about and he really doesn’t want to ruin things any more than he already has. “Yeah, but what if I ruin everything-”
Himchan snorts. “Look, you like him, right?”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“And he likes you too?”
Jongup flushes, “Y-yeah…”
“Then you have nothing to worry about!”
“But-but what about Youngjae hyung!” And Jongup doesn’t even care if Himchan understands that reference or not; he just needs advice.
And like Jongup expects, Himchan gives him this look like he’s crazy. “What does Youngjae have to do with this?” When Jongup doesn’t answer him, he just rolls his eyes. “No, you know what? Don’t make up excuses just because you’re scared.” And Jongup resents that, because he is not scared. This isn’t some excuse… Right? “Youngjae brought you up here to tell you to go after Daehyun, right?”
“How’d you know that?”
Himchan just shakes his head. “You suddenly find out that Daehyun likes you right after Youngjae brings you upstairs to talk? Yeah, don’t think so. He told you.” Jongup doesn’t even have time to feel insulted. “Anyways, he basically told you, straight to your face, that you should jus tell him, right?”
Jongup hesitates before nodding.
“Then why in the world would he be opposed to you two?”
Jongup’s starting to get a little confused himself, and almost as if Himchan sees that, he sighs, and just walks over to Jongup’s bed, bringing a plate of kimchi over his lap. Jongup follows him, like a puppy.
As they eat, Himchan says, voice laced with reassurance. “Don’t worry about anything anymore, alright? Hyung will handle it.” And the discussion ends there.
Jongup doesn’t know whether to feel safe or not with Himchan involved
Youngjae honestly doesn’t even think when he runs upstairs. There’s a hole in his heart and tears in his eyes, and he doesn’t even think-not even when his feet hit the floor and he runs down the hallway, straight to a familiar gray-green wood. It’s basically just his brain, screaming at him to run, run, and run. Run before Daehyun figures it out.
Run before you open your stupid mouth again and make things ten times more difficult.
(And Youngjae doesn’t even argue that it was basically Daehyun’s fault, not his, because his head just tells him that it’ always his fault, and he can’t do anything to change that.)
Panic is tied tight to the front of Youngjae’s mind, and he still doesn’t think-refuses to. He just lets his ability control him now, because he’s doesn’t feel like fighting it-he doesn’t feel like fighting that little voice in the back of his head telling him what to do. That little voice that wanted him to wreck his entire relationship with both Daehyun and Jongup because they were useless to you anyway-they don’t matter one little bit-
And Youngjae doesn’t think-not even when he barges into Junhong’s room without so much as a knock and sees the familiar boy, lying there, not an ounce of shock hidden in his eyes when he sees Youngjae standing there, tears in his eyes and breath heavy.
The only time the genius thinks is when Junhong calls his name, and snaps him out of whatever trance his ability sucked him into.
“Youngjae hyung, come here,” Junhong’s commanding-voice much too quiet (Youngjae can barely hear him), and Youngjae’s a little confused, but he’s too weak to argue, so he just listens and speed walks to the side of Junhong’s bed. When he makes it there, Junhong’s pulling him in so fast Youngjae can’t even yelp, and he has no idea what the fuck Junhong’s doing, but he just goes with it, falling headfirst into his shoulder. That familiar feeling of getting his emotions sucked right out of him hits him like a pillow-soft and almost comfortable, and Junhong’s saying again, in a voice laced with a small sort of panic, “stay under the blanket until I tell you it’s okay to come out, alright?” And before Youngjae can argue, the blanket’s being pulled right over his head and Junhong’s arranging his body so that Youngjae’s lying directly on top of the his legs and they almost look like one person beneath the youngest’s bedsheets. Youngjae feels a pillow along with Junhong’s long arms being thrown over his head, and he supposes this situation is supposed to be comical, but at the moment, face pressed somewhere into Junhong’s stomach, Youngjae doesn’t find it very funny.
Somewhere in the background, beneath Junhong’s breathing and his steady heartbeat, Youngjae hears a toilet flushing.
“Hey, Yongguk hyung,” Youngjae hears Junhong say, and he silently presses himself further into the boy’s stomach, attempting to disappear but failing miserably, “do you have any more questions or…?”
The leader’s gruff voice answers and Youngjae detects a little hint of reluctance in his voice. “Uh, sort of.” Youngjae feels a little bit claustrophobic at the thought of having to stay under here for that long before Junhong’s new ability’s making it all vanish again. “But, you know what? We’ve made a lot of progress today, and it’s probably been a really long day for the both of us; let’s just save the rest of the questions for another day.” Junhong’s stomach contracts beneath Youngjae’s head and the genius figures out he’s sighing (although it’s too quiet for them to hear), relief evident in the way he moves his hands and discreetly pokes the older boy in the side. Youngjae has to fight a sudden urge to smile, and he doesn’t really know why. “Is that alright with you?”
“Yeah.” Junhong says, voice unusually low, and Youngjae realizes, a hint of amusement in the back of his head, that he’s trying to imitate his robot voice. It’s never occurred to him that something like that-something like Junhong’s voice, cold as concrete and icy as rain-can be so funny. “Bye, hyung.” Junhong says, and Youngjae can feel the suspicion dripping off of every pore in Yongguk’s body, but he supposes the older man plays it off as another unusual part of Junhong’s condition, because he hears the sudden sound of Junhong’s door closing shut along with Yongguk’s reply just a moment later.
“Bye, Junhong, see you tomorrow.”
And then Youngjae’s throwing the pillow off his head with a huff and he sees Junhong looking down at him with a spark in his eyes, and Youngjae kind of wants to stay like this forever, because everything seems right here. Daehyun and Jongup won’t be dating by the morning and Junhong can actually feel (even though Youngjae knows it’s at the expense of his own emotions) and everything is fine and Youngjae wasn’t just crying a moment before. “Sorry,” Junhong’s saying, and Youngjae sees a hint of a smile on his face even though it’s getting just a little bit harder for him to feel relieved by it, “Yongguk hyung was in the bathroom and I didn’t think you would want him to see you crying.” A hand-Junhong’s-finds its way toward Youngjae’s cheek and with a feather light touch, Junhong is tracing the tip of his finger along the edges of Youngjae’s dark brown eyes, wiping away tears along his way. “What happened?” And Youngjae suddenly forgets why he was crying in the first place.
“I-I don’t really… know anymore-” Youngjae says and that’s definitely not his voice. He sounds like Junhong-like robot Junhong, and it should be scary, but it’s really not and he still wants to stay like this even though he’s pretty sure that they should stop.
Junhong feels it too, somehow, because he’s shifting on the bed, hands finding their way to Youngjae’s sides to gently move him off to the side of the bed, away from him. Before he can, Youngjae finds himself hooking his hands around the back of Junhong’s waist. A nervous chuckle snakes its way up Junhong’s throat and Youngjae can feel it in his stomach, and it’s a pretty amazing feeling, but Junhong’s still trying (although rather feebly) to get Youngjae to let go, at least for a second. “Come on, hyung, what are you doing? You’re not going to have any emotions left if you keep this up-” And Youngjae’s not sure if that’s true or not-isn’t sure if that can actually happen, but he kind of wants to find out if it can.
“Don’t care,” He mumbles into the younger boy’s stomach and Youngjae swears he can hear a flip somewhere there, and he feels one too, in his own stomach, before Junhong’s hands are lacing with his around his back and he’s prying Youngjae’s hands off as gently as possible.
“Yes, you do, hyung.” Junhong says, matter-o-factly, gracing Youngjae with a sloppy smirk as he carefully moves the genius to the left side of the bed, scooting himself a safe distance away. Youngjae groans, a sudden bout of joy and despair hitting him all at the same time for no apparent reason until he remembers that those were his emotions-emotions he felt before Junhong took them away.
The words travel out of Youngjae's mouth before he even knows they’re leaving it. “You suck.”
Youngjae swears he hears a little eyeroll in Junhong’s voice when he replies, “Whatever. You’ll thank me later.”
“No, I won’t. I will hate you. Forever.” Youngjae retorts, eyelashes fluttering open to see Junhong smiling down at him. His eyebrows furrow together. “Hey, when did that happen?”
Junhong looks a little bit confused and Youngjae’s pretty sure he feels a little bit puzzled himself. “When did what happen?”
(And, okay, Youngjae might be feeling a lot confused, because how is Junhong doing that?)
“You’re being all confused and happy and I’m not even touching you.” Youngjae says and he even goes as far as to look down at himself and as sure as he is that Daehyun loves Jongup, he is definitely not making any contact whatsoever with Junhong. (And yeah, that probably wasn’t the best comparison, because Youngjae’s feeling a little sad again and he’s starting to remember why he was crying, and ouch, he just made himself depressed.)
Almost as if Junhong senses that, he takes Youngjae’s hands, almost experimentally, and the pain dies down some. “It confused me a little too. But hey-I think I’m getting better.” Junhong exclaims, giving him a toothy smile and Youngjae smile-snorts, scooting a little bit closer. “You, on the other hand, are not. I can feel it.” As if to emphasize his point, he traces a long finger down the older man’s wrist, and Youngjae tries really hard not to smile. “So spill.”
And Youngjae kind of doesn’t want to talk about it right now, but he can practically feel the persistence radiating off of Junhong’s body, and he knows the younger’s not going to let him avoid this. “Two conditions,” Youngjae states, sighing, looking up at Junhong through long eyelashes. The younger looks ready to do just about anything. “One, you tell me what you and Yongguk talked about.” He’s not entirely too curious about it, but Youngjae needs to make sure the situation is even between them, so if Youngjae gets to rant, Junhong has to rant too.
“Done.” Junhong says confidently. “And the other condition?”
“I get cuddles.” And Youngjae doesn’t even feel embarrassed when he admits that he wants them, because he fucking deserves them right now after all that he’s done. “Lots of cuddles.”
And Junhong only laughs at him, shaking his head even as he says, “Whatever you want, hyung.”
Junhong doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this relaxed.
It’s a great change of pace from what he’s been feeling (which has been nothing at all, but that’s beside the point), and Junhong kind of really wants to thank Youngjae, because without him, all of this would probably be impossible, but with all of the talking they’ve been doing, there’s been no room for thank you’s, and Junhong has to push it further back, behind all the then-what-happened-nexts and the and-then-this-happeneds and the oh-my-goodness-that-sounds-awfuls, because right now, nothing’s more important than Youngjae.
And it feels absolutely right to Junhong with Youngjae curled up to his side, remembering every once in a while to pull away for just a second or two. “And then Daehyun hyung commanded me to tell him what was wrong with me, and I couldn’t tell him I loved him-not after all that I did for Jongup-so I just sort of ran upstairs to your room.” Youngjae pauses for a second and Junhong can feel he’s holding something back, so he kind of prods him in the cheek, enough to make him laugh, roll his eyes, and continue. “Okay, well, I might’ve… sort of… yelled at him a little before that.” He feels a little ashamed at that, but Junhong feels nothing but pride, and he’s not afraid to show Youngjae that he is, giving him a little squeeze to the shoulder and a little whoop of approval.
Youngjae smacks him lightly on the abdomen and Junhong actually feels it (and the cuts on his stomach practically scream because of it) but it still feels sort of amazing despite the pain. “I didn’t know you had it in you, hyung.” Junhong teases and Youngjae gives him a sour look that Junhong returns not a second later.
“Whatever,” Youngjae huffs, but Junhong can feel that he wants to say more-wants to say more about how you’ve known me long enough; don’t act like you’re surprised and Junhong smiles and sort of doesn’t want to all at the same time, because he knows he has to let go again, just for a few minutes, even though he really doesn’t want to. Youngjae does it for him, slipping out of his hands to lie down on the pillow instead of on Junhong’s arm. “Your turn.” Youngjae states, as if Junhong didn’t remember, suppressing a tiny yawn.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Junhong says and continues before Youngjae has enough time to argue. “I know you’re tired, so you’ll just end up falling asleep on me if I did tell you.”
And he knows he makes a very valid argument that Youngjae can’t argue with, but instead of saying something like, ‘fine’ and crawling out of bed, Youngjae still manages to surprise him, pulling the blankets over the both of them and resolutely shutting his eyes. “Fine. Second condition changes now, since you absolutely failed to fulfill my previous one.”
Junhong laughs, but he can feel the sudden pull yanking at his emotions, stripping him of them way too fast for his liking. “What do you want now?” He asks, trying to sound annoyed, but all he can feel is joy.
Joy and fear.
“I want to sleep in here tonight.” Youngjae states, resolutely curling himself into a small ball next to Junhong’s side, close enough for Junhong to reach over and hold.
And Junhong can’t exactly argue with Youngjae already half-asleep, so he just smiles, saying in a hushed whisper, “As you wish, your highness.” Sort of joking and sort of not.
And for just a minute, looking at Youngjae-at his brunette hair falling right over shut shiny, sad, and tired brown eyes, at his fingers curled right up to his chest in one of the most adorable ways possible, and at the slow expansions and retractions of his chest-Junhong thinks that he might be falling.
He thinks that he might be falling so hard and so high from the top of the tallest building, and he thinks that he might be okay with that.
Because a second later, he doesn’t feel anything at all again
-----
Previous | Next