내 가슴에 불을 지펴봐
내 가슴에 불을 지펴봐 (start a fire in my heart)
jihyuk-centric, jihyuk/byunghee, pg-13, general
warning: spoilers up till ep 16
he didn't just up and leave, but this is what he cannot tell hyunsoo.
again for voorpret because i think she'll want this ♥
No, Jihyuk thinks.
“I - still,” his mother tells him, and it scares Jihyuk that he can’t tell what sort of emotion she’s trying to convey, “look, come with me. Please. Just try it out. You don’t have to stay, but at least give it a shot. For me.”
Of course I don’t have to stay, Jihyuk thinks, but he takes a deep breath.
He moves in with his mom, the bastard and his two sons, and it’s hell even with the leather sofas and the firm, soundless double bed in his room.
---
Two weeks, he’d promised.
Thirteen more days of listening to the bastard’s sons snide comments outside his door, and then he’s out. Jihyuk’s really only staying because of his promise, but it’s a challenge, especially when his mother pretends as though she hasn’t heard. A part of himself doesn’t understand why he’s holding on to a promise when he’s the only one. Hajin and Kyungjong ask as much, and Hyunsoo too, when he follows Jihyuk back to his new house. Jihyuk doesn’t have an answer to that, so he just jams a lollipop into his mouth and says it’s only for a short while.
He’s a lot less in the mood to play soccer after school now, and Hyunsoo picks up on it. Jihyuk shrugs it off - Hyunsoo couldn’t help, anyway, and telling him would just worry everyone. Jihyuk still slips on his cleats after school and still kicks ass with Hyunsoo, but his heart’s just not in it anymore, and it’s even slightly frightening, he thinks, that even soccer’s starting to stop fueling him inside anymore. He doesn’t tell Hyunsoo about the crap he gets with the bastard’s sons, because Hyunsoo wouldn’t understand, anyway. Hyunsoo’s got a happy family to go back to; he’ll never understand.
It’s a Wednesday when the new transfer student to his class, a strange tall, lanky guy with an almost frightening penchant for eyeliner decides to take the seat next to Jihyuk’s for the day.
“Hey,” Byunghee says as he drags the chair out under the desk next to Jihyuk’s with his foot, and stares at Jihyuk with the tiniest smile hung on the corner of his lips. Jihyuk feels his eyes bore into Jihyuk’s for a second, before he breaks the eye contact, tosses out a curt “hi,” and turns away. He feels defensive all of a sudden, like Byunghee knows about his situation, knows about how his mother threw him away. He’s being ridiculous, Jihyuk knows, but he’s not in the most rational states of mind.
Byunghee scoots closer, dragging his chair and desk to bump lightly against Jihyuk’s. He just stares at Jihyuk, coming a tad too close into Jihyuk’s personal space, and Jihyuk jerks back reflexively. Then Byunghee breaks out into a teeth-baring smile and sits back, and slings his arm around Jihyuk’s shoulders.
“Hey, friend,” Byunghee says cheerfully, and Jihyuk’s taken aback by the presumptuousness of it all so he doesn’t reply, but there’s something oddly comforting about Byunghee’s arm around his shoulders, so he doesn’t move away.
---
Jihyuk later suspects it’s familiarity, the unexplainable something between kindred spirits, that settled around his shoulders. Ten hours into their friendship, over ramyun at the convenience store round the corner Byunghee’d asked if there was anything wrong. Somehow Jihyuk manages, just at the tone of Byunghee’s voice, to tell him everything about his mother, all that he hadn’t managed to tell the rest for fear of burdening them. Perhaps it’s Byunghee’s unfettered nature - Jihyuk gets the feeling that it buoys everything. Worries don’t stand a chance next to the Goliath of Byunghee’s smile.
When Jihyuk ends his story he looks down for a moment, embarrassed, but Byunghee just gives a soft, comforting laugh, neither mocking nor derisive, and pats Jihyuk on the shoulder.
“That’s okay, my mom’s dead, and my father’s an alcoholic. I live with my grandma. But you know, it’s fine, because I got music. And you, now!” There is not a hint of sarcasm in Byunghee’s voice, and it slows Jihyuk’s heart, just like that.
---
There’s something about Byunghee, and something else about the way he empathizes because he’s been through the similar grind, that makes good friends out of the two of them. Slowly Jihyuk's cleats find their way further hidden behind the crap pile barricade near the door of his room, and the old stereo he’d nicked from his classroom finds its way nearer to Jihyuk’s bed, playing ripped CDs from Byunghee’s collection of the Beatles and Oasis - bands Jihyuk hadn’t even heard of before.
It’s somehow comforting, Jihyuk thinks, the twangy sounds of a guitar coming through earphones. It’s almost enough to get him through the thirteen days.
Byunghee fills the rest right up.
---
“I’m leaving,” Jihyuk tells his mother. He thinks she’s probably expecting it, and is unsurprised when her expression doesn’t change.
“You’re not coming,” Jihyuk asks, but it turns out more of a statement because both of them know the answer.
Jihyuk stares at her, and takes a bit of pleasure in the way his mother’s eyes, those piercing eyes she uses when she needs to get her way, waver a bit.
He packs up, stuffs a handful of shirts in a duffel, grabs his stereo, soccer ball and cleats, and leaves. He doesn’t swipe his key from his desk, and when he leaves his pocket feels empty without the weight of metal, yet strangely relieving.
---
Jihyuk wanders around the neighbourhood, cleats over his shoulder, completely unsure of what to do next. He declines every call from his mother, turning off the phone eventually. The first night out is on a bench in an underground walkway.
---
Jihyuk’s squatting outside a convenience store, counting the cash in his wallet and trying not to give into the temptation of a cup of ramyun, when Byunghee comes along.
“Dog-Jihyuk?”
Jihyuk looks up just in time to see Byunghee’s eyes dart to his duffel bag, his cleats. He looks down, jamming his lips together. Shit.
Byunghee asks all the questions, which is why Jihyuk winds up sleeping in Byunghee’s house that night. Hyunsoo would take him in without hesitation, too, but Hyunsoo’s family isn’t in any position to feed another mouth with his sister’s illness right now, and Hyunsoo’s mother would never let Jihyuk eat separately. Do-il would take him in, too, and he could probably sleep on the floor of Hajin’s or Kyungjong’s room, but he doesn’t really feel like repelling warmth in someone else’s home, too. Byunghee’s house is as cold as the leather sofas in the bastard’s house, and it’s at least familiar, if nothing else. Sometimes the thing Jihyuk hates worst is change.
Jihyuk’s mother sends a text message.
You can stay in our old house. Be safe
He tells himself he won’t go back - he’d sooner eat glass than depend on her.
---
Jihyuk feels bad and uncomfortable for two days in Byunghee’s house before it surpasses his pride, and he moves back to their old rooftop room. Jihyuk smiles when it feels a million times better to ram his foot on the edge of the table when he rolls out of bed in the morning than to sit on the cold, cold leather sofa in the bastard’s house, or to shower with a just a tub of water because he’s costing money that belongs in the fund for a new heater.
The room, his old home is even a bit large now - empty and cold, but Byunghee comes over and fills it up with guitar and his laugh and dreams of playing at the Glastonbury, and when Jihyuk first tries his hand on guitar and is a natural (Byunghee cheers so loud Jihyuk has to clamp his hand on Byunghee’s mouth so his ears don’t explode), he feels there for the first time in a month.
a/n: title from b.a.p.'s warrior~ this is strange but it's something i've wanted to get out since ep 2 so ;;;; p.s. this show is glorious.
jihyuk-centric, jihyuk/byunghee, pg-13, general
warning: spoilers up till ep 16
he didn't just up and leave, but this is what he cannot tell hyunsoo.
again for voorpret because i think she'll want this ♥
No, Jihyuk thinks.
“I - still,” his mother tells him, and it scares Jihyuk that he can’t tell what sort of emotion she’s trying to convey, “look, come with me. Please. Just try it out. You don’t have to stay, but at least give it a shot. For me.”
Of course I don’t have to stay, Jihyuk thinks, but he takes a deep breath.
He moves in with his mom, the bastard and his two sons, and it’s hell even with the leather sofas and the firm, soundless double bed in his room.
---
Two weeks, he’d promised.
Thirteen more days of listening to the bastard’s sons snide comments outside his door, and then he’s out. Jihyuk’s really only staying because of his promise, but it’s a challenge, especially when his mother pretends as though she hasn’t heard. A part of himself doesn’t understand why he’s holding on to a promise when he’s the only one. Hajin and Kyungjong ask as much, and Hyunsoo too, when he follows Jihyuk back to his new house. Jihyuk doesn’t have an answer to that, so he just jams a lollipop into his mouth and says it’s only for a short while.
He’s a lot less in the mood to play soccer after school now, and Hyunsoo picks up on it. Jihyuk shrugs it off - Hyunsoo couldn’t help, anyway, and telling him would just worry everyone. Jihyuk still slips on his cleats after school and still kicks ass with Hyunsoo, but his heart’s just not in it anymore, and it’s even slightly frightening, he thinks, that even soccer’s starting to stop fueling him inside anymore. He doesn’t tell Hyunsoo about the crap he gets with the bastard’s sons, because Hyunsoo wouldn’t understand, anyway. Hyunsoo’s got a happy family to go back to; he’ll never understand.
It’s a Wednesday when the new transfer student to his class, a strange tall, lanky guy with an almost frightening penchant for eyeliner decides to take the seat next to Jihyuk’s for the day.
“Hey,” Byunghee says as he drags the chair out under the desk next to Jihyuk’s with his foot, and stares at Jihyuk with the tiniest smile hung on the corner of his lips. Jihyuk feels his eyes bore into Jihyuk’s for a second, before he breaks the eye contact, tosses out a curt “hi,” and turns away. He feels defensive all of a sudden, like Byunghee knows about his situation, knows about how his mother threw him away. He’s being ridiculous, Jihyuk knows, but he’s not in the most rational states of mind.
Byunghee scoots closer, dragging his chair and desk to bump lightly against Jihyuk’s. He just stares at Jihyuk, coming a tad too close into Jihyuk’s personal space, and Jihyuk jerks back reflexively. Then Byunghee breaks out into a teeth-baring smile and sits back, and slings his arm around Jihyuk’s shoulders.
“Hey, friend,” Byunghee says cheerfully, and Jihyuk’s taken aback by the presumptuousness of it all so he doesn’t reply, but there’s something oddly comforting about Byunghee’s arm around his shoulders, so he doesn’t move away.
---
Jihyuk later suspects it’s familiarity, the unexplainable something between kindred spirits, that settled around his shoulders. Ten hours into their friendship, over ramyun at the convenience store round the corner Byunghee’d asked if there was anything wrong. Somehow Jihyuk manages, just at the tone of Byunghee’s voice, to tell him everything about his mother, all that he hadn’t managed to tell the rest for fear of burdening them. Perhaps it’s Byunghee’s unfettered nature - Jihyuk gets the feeling that it buoys everything. Worries don’t stand a chance next to the Goliath of Byunghee’s smile.
When Jihyuk ends his story he looks down for a moment, embarrassed, but Byunghee just gives a soft, comforting laugh, neither mocking nor derisive, and pats Jihyuk on the shoulder.
“That’s okay, my mom’s dead, and my father’s an alcoholic. I live with my grandma. But you know, it’s fine, because I got music. And you, now!” There is not a hint of sarcasm in Byunghee’s voice, and it slows Jihyuk’s heart, just like that.
---
There’s something about Byunghee, and something else about the way he empathizes because he’s been through the similar grind, that makes good friends out of the two of them. Slowly Jihyuk's cleats find their way further hidden behind the crap pile barricade near the door of his room, and the old stereo he’d nicked from his classroom finds its way nearer to Jihyuk’s bed, playing ripped CDs from Byunghee’s collection of the Beatles and Oasis - bands Jihyuk hadn’t even heard of before.
It’s somehow comforting, Jihyuk thinks, the twangy sounds of a guitar coming through earphones. It’s almost enough to get him through the thirteen days.
Byunghee fills the rest right up.
---
“I’m leaving,” Jihyuk tells his mother. He thinks she’s probably expecting it, and is unsurprised when her expression doesn’t change.
“You’re not coming,” Jihyuk asks, but it turns out more of a statement because both of them know the answer.
Jihyuk stares at her, and takes a bit of pleasure in the way his mother’s eyes, those piercing eyes she uses when she needs to get her way, waver a bit.
He packs up, stuffs a handful of shirts in a duffel, grabs his stereo, soccer ball and cleats, and leaves. He doesn’t swipe his key from his desk, and when he leaves his pocket feels empty without the weight of metal, yet strangely relieving.
---
Jihyuk wanders around the neighbourhood, cleats over his shoulder, completely unsure of what to do next. He declines every call from his mother, turning off the phone eventually. The first night out is on a bench in an underground walkway.
---
Jihyuk’s squatting outside a convenience store, counting the cash in his wallet and trying not to give into the temptation of a cup of ramyun, when Byunghee comes along.
“Dog-Jihyuk?”
Jihyuk looks up just in time to see Byunghee’s eyes dart to his duffel bag, his cleats. He looks down, jamming his lips together. Shit.
Byunghee asks all the questions, which is why Jihyuk winds up sleeping in Byunghee’s house that night. Hyunsoo would take him in without hesitation, too, but Hyunsoo’s family isn’t in any position to feed another mouth with his sister’s illness right now, and Hyunsoo’s mother would never let Jihyuk eat separately. Do-il would take him in, too, and he could probably sleep on the floor of Hajin’s or Kyungjong’s room, but he doesn’t really feel like repelling warmth in someone else’s home, too. Byunghee’s house is as cold as the leather sofas in the bastard’s house, and it’s at least familiar, if nothing else. Sometimes the thing Jihyuk hates worst is change.
Jihyuk’s mother sends a text message.
You can stay in our old house. Be safe
He tells himself he won’t go back - he’d sooner eat glass than depend on her.
---
Jihyuk feels bad and uncomfortable for two days in Byunghee’s house before it surpasses his pride, and he moves back to their old rooftop room. Jihyuk smiles when it feels a million times better to ram his foot on the edge of the table when he rolls out of bed in the morning than to sit on the cold, cold leather sofa in the bastard’s house, or to shower with a just a tub of water because he’s costing money that belongs in the fund for a new heater.
The room, his old home is even a bit large now - empty and cold, but Byunghee comes over and fills it up with guitar and his laugh and dreams of playing at the Glastonbury, and when Jihyuk first tries his hand on guitar and is a natural (Byunghee cheers so loud Jihyuk has to clamp his hand on Byunghee’s mouth so his ears don’t explode), he feels there for the first time in a month.
a/n: title from b.a.p.'s warrior~ this is strange but it's something i've wanted to get out since ep 2 so ;;;; p.s. this show is glorious.