#37. 2PM [Chansung/Junho]
Fandom: 2PM
Title: (Manifest)
Rating: R
Pairing/Focus: Chansung/Junho
Length: 2400 words
Summary: Junho is one of the most frustrating people he's ever met.
Warnings: Some language and sexual situations.
Notes: Took a leaf from walkonpluto's book, and the title is from a song by the weakerthans. Writing this was an interesting experience for me, including a change in form, last minute scrambling and a blackout. Despite all of that, I hope it doesn't disappoint. Thanks to C and B for your support.
Remixee author: walkonpluto
Title of work you remixed: Slips And Tangles
Link to work you remixed: http://walkonpluto.livejournal.com/12477.html
Twelfth Grade. September.
Junho is one of the most frustrating people he's ever met. Chansung can never read him, because Junho doesn't want him to, and Chansung has no idea why.
Maybe if Junho hadn't been so desperate to fit in then he would have realised that he already did, with Chansung. Maybe if he hadn't been so intent on fulfilling his dreams alone he would have seen that he could have done it together, with Chansung.
But that train of thought is redundant too, because then Junho wouldn't be Junho, and Chansung wouldn't be interested.
Afterwards, when he thinks about it, it's really no surprise he gave in, because he's been heading in this direction since he and Junho first met, he just hadn't known it yet.
Doing that with Junho, fucking someone in public, taking control, coming to the vicious words and pleas (how had he just known about those), it shouldn't be such a thrill. He knows it's fucked up, and weird, and terrible. He knows what would happen if anyone found out.
But he knows they're going to do it again. And maybe one day, he might finally get closer to understanding anything about Lee Junho.
-
Twelfth Grade. July.
"This is your fault, Hwang Chansung," Junho hisses at him. Chansung can't even begin to count the number of times Junho has said this to him since he rejoined the team, rejoined and found himself playing under Chansung, but this time it's different, because he's pretty sure Junho just broke one of his toes.
It's quick and savage, like the crack of a whip, but Chansung feels the years of hurt and aggravation that have built up inside him, all the negative emotion that he knows better than to release, finally pour out of him, and he bares his teeth at Junho, launching himself at him and knocking him to the ground in a sick parody of the incident that tore them apart in the first place.
They flail and punch and pummel each other, rolling around on turf baked hard by a stifling summer, still trying to cause damage even when they're dragged apart by their teammates, and then they're sent back inside to be punished.
It doesn't stop them from doing it again a few days later. Or the week after that. Or even the week after that.
-
Twelfth Grade. March.
"Was that Junho?" Chansung asks, mouth full as he cranes his head to see, like that will somehow help him see through the mass of bodies in the cafeteria. Junho had gone from occasionally showing up to school to disappearing completely, and Chansung had just assumed he was in training to be a super-famous idol and the next time he'd see him would be on Inkigayo. The idea that he's back at school is startling enough to make him pause in his eating.
"Who's Junho?" Wooyoung asks absently, twirling his chopsticks around his fingers.
"Yah, Junho, Lee Junho, he got into that entertainment company, remember?" Kwon sighs wistfully. "I've been trying for eight years, and he gets in first time. He must be good."
"Oh, him." Wooyoung nods. "He can't be that good, I heard he got thrown out."
Chansung's eyes widen. "What?" He leans in, staring at Wooyoung, desperate for information, but Wooyoung is characteristically apathetic as he picks through his noodles, looking for chunks of meat. "Why?"
He shrugs. "I don't know, his mother even called the CEO to try and let him stay but he still got…"
But Chansung has stopped listening, because, for a split second, the crowd parts, and there he is-standing taller, hair shorter, shoulders broader, but his eyes are older, tireder. He looks so world-weary, like he's been away for ten years rather than ten months. Chansung wonders what they could possibly be putting trainees through for him to look like that.
And then, just as quickly, a group of tenth graders wander into Chansung's line of vision, and Junho disappears.
Chansung lets him go and frowns, leaning back in his seat.
Junho's back.
It shouldn't mean anything-it doesn't, not really. Chansung's the captain of the soccer team now, he's got friends, good friends, proper friends, and he's happy. He's never needed Junho. It doesn't matter what's happened to Junho, or what he does from now on.
Chansung doesn't care about him at all.
-
Eleventh Grade. November.
Chansung doesn't remember his dreams very often, but when he does, they're always strange, fragments of stupid things that make less sense the more he thinks about them, but occasionally he'll-well.
There are sex dreams.
Those don't stay with him either, mostly he just knows he has them by the cleaning up he has to do in the morning, but this time, as soon as he wakes up, he has a perfect memory of everything that happened.
In his sex dream.
His gay sex dream.
His gay sex dream with Lee Junho.
Chansung doesn't even know where that came from. He hasn't thought about Lee Junho in months, not since he dropped out of the soccer team and started coming to school for mandatory classes only. He's seen glimpses of him in the halls, heard people talk about him, but it's like he's a ghost.
He had felt shockingly corporeal last night.
Chansung lets out a shaky breath, kicking off his sweaty covers, and the cold air is jarring but that's okay, that's good because everything about Dream Junho was just so. Hot. Burning. His breath, his skin, his dick, his come. He was kinky, too, the way he'd talked dirty, the way he'd begged, the way he'd opened himself up for Chansung, the way he'd licked at Chansung's balls, and Chansung-
Chansung fully intends on blaming this on Junho, but he thinks he understands, now, why it never worked with Jia.
-
Eleventh Grade. May.
Junho is accepted.
Chansung isn't.
Chansung congratulates him.
Junho ignores him and then insults him.
Chansung finally decides to stop trying.
-
Eleventh Grade. April.
Chansung expects to see Junho at the auditions.
Junho hasn't been involved with soccer much lately-he keeps skipping practice and Chansung has to sub in for him, which Coach isn't too happy about-but Chansung has seen him in different places around the school, watching music videos on his phone, practicing recent popular idol choreography, humming tunes under his breath. He heard him sing once too, something in English that even Chansung, with his less than impressive English skills, could tell was terribly pronounced, but it didn't matter, because Chansung is pretty sure Junho was gifted with the voice of an angel.
He wonders how Junho compares to all these other contestants, all these hopeful kids with beautiful dreams and stars in their eyes. Chansung himself knows he's an underdog, since he has no idea how to dance, he's tone deaf, and he has no idea how to model, but he picked one of his more interesting sword routines to perform, and he figures that if it's meant to happen, then it will.
He sees a few people he knows as he looks for a bathroom, even Jia, who he stops to exchange pleasantries with, and then he turns a corner and there Junho is, nervously working through a few dance steps before reaching up to pat down his hair.
It takes only a second of quiet contemplation before he approaches him.
"Yah, Junho-yah," Chansung says softly, and Junho half-turns towards him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pinched. "Fighting!"
Junho snorts. "I don't need your encouragement. You should save your energy." And he walks away.
Chansung wonders why he even bothers.
-
Tenth Grade. October.
Everyone else is doing it.
Chansung usually doesn't care about that sort of thing, he does what he needs to do in his own time, but he wasn't really offered a choice when he was shoved under the bleachers after practice by some of the older members of the team, Jia following quickly behind him and flashing him a cute little smirk before dropping to her knees and attacking his fly.
His dick had been her mouth before he'd even been able to process what was happening.
This has happened a few other times to the other tenth graders, but Chansung has always made himself scarce when it has. It's a stupid initiation, one he's not comfortable with, and while he could bring himself to enjoy the attention he's not going to do it just to live up to some stupid, gross tradition.
"Um," he croaks out, trying to stop his hips from bucking, "wait-can you-"
Jia makes a humming noise, leaning back and touching her hand to her mouth. She raises an eyebrow.
Chansung cringes. He tries to tell her she's doing great, she feels really good, but instead he says, "You don't have to do that."
She shifts back further, away from his crotch, and removes her hand from the base of his dick.
He likes Jia. Jia is a friend of Sunye's, but Sunye is everyone's friend so he supposes that doesn't really count. Still, he likes Jia's accent, likes the way she wears her uniform, just enough to individualise her but not enough to get in trouble. He likes how soft her hands are, how even though she was being rough with him she was careful with her nails and teeth.
"Unless… do you want to do it?" he asks.
She shrugs. "It's not a big deal. I like it."
"You do?"
"You don't?"
"I do," he says quickly. "You're great. But. We're friends, aren't we?"
Jia tilts her head, holding his gaze for a few moments before she smiles and pats his knee. "Put yourself away. Let's just say we did, right?"
As he zips up, he wonders if this has happened to Junho yet, but then Jia smiles and ducks out, and Chansung emerges after her to a chorus of cheers and some over-enthusiastic slaps on the back.
-
Tenth Grade. April.
It ends up being the most short-lived friendship he's ever had.
He may not be book-smart, but Chansung understands people. He knows about human relationships, the way they're always in flux, how they can alter and adapt, not to mention how easily they can shatter if you don't treat them like the precious gift they are, but even he doesn't expect his friendship with Junho to last less than a month.
Junho has perhaps mentioned the soccer team tryouts, and his desire to be on the team, once or twice (or fifty times) in the past few weeks, and Chansung thinks-why not? He likes Junho, likes spending time with him, so trying out as well is a great idea.
Junho doesn't think so. Chansung laughs and they show up together, where a twelfth grader named Seulong sorts them into makeshift teams. They're not grouped together, Chansung given a blue shirt and Junho a white, but that's okay, and he waves excitedly at Junho from across the field.
"Yah, you punks, listen up! We're only accepting five new players this year," Seulong announces. "So you better prove your worth! Start!"
Most of the tryout passes in a blur and Chansung relishes the burn of oxygen in his lungs, the sweat trickling down his temples to warm his frozen cheeks, the freedom he feels as he ducks and darts over the field.
He's playing at his best, too, he can feel it. Soccer isn't his specialty but he loves all sports, and he's a fast learner so it doesn't take him long to push past the basics already stored in his brain. Unfortunately, from the few times he's risked glancing Junho's way, Junho doesn't seem to be as lucky. He knows what he's doing, Chansung knows he does, he's done nothing but spout soccer theory since they met, but he's uncoordinated and clumsy, and at one point, while he's at goal, he trips over and falls directly on his ass.
Chansung tries to help him even though they're on opposite teams, tries to give him a few easy passes, but Junho is just getting worse, until finally-
They're completing one of the last exercises of the day. Chansung is on goal this time, Junho approaching him with the ball, and Chansung is just wondering whether he should let Junho get a goal when suddenly Junho is on top of him, knocking him to the ground, twisting their bodies up and holding Chansung there for a split second and rolling away, letting out a scream.
Chansung rolls himself into a sitting position. "Junho?" He tries to move towards him, to see if he's okay, but strong arms hold him back. "What-"
"Yah, what happened?" Seulong calls, jogging over.
"He just came at me!" Junho accuses, pointing wildly at Chansung with the hand not clutching his-perfectly fine-ankle.
Seulong frowns at him. "You need to calm down. You can't just start attacking everyone on the field."
Chansung blinks and gapes. Seulong turns away. Junho looks relieved.
Junho gets on the team. Chansung does too, but he's benched until he proves he's worthy, and he spends his first few practices shivering in the cold, watching Junho on the field and wondering how a stranger's approval could ever mean more to him than a friend.
-
Tenth Grade. March.
They become friends pretty quickly. Junho has newly moved to Seoul from Ilsan, Chansung's best friend moved to America at the end of last year, and they're just happy to find someone new, someone who understands. They're not in the same class but that's okay too, because now they have someone to talk to at lunch time, and there's always next year.
Chansung goes home on the first day of tenth grade with a smile on his face and a new phone number programmed into his phone.
-
Title: (Manifest)
Rating: R
Pairing/Focus: Chansung/Junho
Length: 2400 words
Summary: Junho is one of the most frustrating people he's ever met.
Warnings: Some language and sexual situations.
Notes: Took a leaf from walkonpluto's book, and the title is from a song by the weakerthans. Writing this was an interesting experience for me, including a change in form, last minute scrambling and a blackout. Despite all of that, I hope it doesn't disappoint. Thanks to C and B for your support.
Remixee author: walkonpluto
Title of work you remixed: Slips And Tangles
Link to work you remixed: http://walkonpluto.livejournal.com/12477.html
Twelfth Grade. September.
Junho is one of the most frustrating people he's ever met. Chansung can never read him, because Junho doesn't want him to, and Chansung has no idea why.
Maybe if Junho hadn't been so desperate to fit in then he would have realised that he already did, with Chansung. Maybe if he hadn't been so intent on fulfilling his dreams alone he would have seen that he could have done it together, with Chansung.
But that train of thought is redundant too, because then Junho wouldn't be Junho, and Chansung wouldn't be interested.
Afterwards, when he thinks about it, it's really no surprise he gave in, because he's been heading in this direction since he and Junho first met, he just hadn't known it yet.
Doing that with Junho, fucking someone in public, taking control, coming to the vicious words and pleas (how had he just known about those), it shouldn't be such a thrill. He knows it's fucked up, and weird, and terrible. He knows what would happen if anyone found out.
But he knows they're going to do it again. And maybe one day, he might finally get closer to understanding anything about Lee Junho.
-
Twelfth Grade. July.
"This is your fault, Hwang Chansung," Junho hisses at him. Chansung can't even begin to count the number of times Junho has said this to him since he rejoined the team, rejoined and found himself playing under Chansung, but this time it's different, because he's pretty sure Junho just broke one of his toes.
It's quick and savage, like the crack of a whip, but Chansung feels the years of hurt and aggravation that have built up inside him, all the negative emotion that he knows better than to release, finally pour out of him, and he bares his teeth at Junho, launching himself at him and knocking him to the ground in a sick parody of the incident that tore them apart in the first place.
They flail and punch and pummel each other, rolling around on turf baked hard by a stifling summer, still trying to cause damage even when they're dragged apart by their teammates, and then they're sent back inside to be punished.
It doesn't stop them from doing it again a few days later. Or the week after that. Or even the week after that.
-
Twelfth Grade. March.
"Was that Junho?" Chansung asks, mouth full as he cranes his head to see, like that will somehow help him see through the mass of bodies in the cafeteria. Junho had gone from occasionally showing up to school to disappearing completely, and Chansung had just assumed he was in training to be a super-famous idol and the next time he'd see him would be on Inkigayo. The idea that he's back at school is startling enough to make him pause in his eating.
"Who's Junho?" Wooyoung asks absently, twirling his chopsticks around his fingers.
"Yah, Junho, Lee Junho, he got into that entertainment company, remember?" Kwon sighs wistfully. "I've been trying for eight years, and he gets in first time. He must be good."
"Oh, him." Wooyoung nods. "He can't be that good, I heard he got thrown out."
Chansung's eyes widen. "What?" He leans in, staring at Wooyoung, desperate for information, but Wooyoung is characteristically apathetic as he picks through his noodles, looking for chunks of meat. "Why?"
He shrugs. "I don't know, his mother even called the CEO to try and let him stay but he still got…"
But Chansung has stopped listening, because, for a split second, the crowd parts, and there he is-standing taller, hair shorter, shoulders broader, but his eyes are older, tireder. He looks so world-weary, like he's been away for ten years rather than ten months. Chansung wonders what they could possibly be putting trainees through for him to look like that.
And then, just as quickly, a group of tenth graders wander into Chansung's line of vision, and Junho disappears.
Chansung lets him go and frowns, leaning back in his seat.
Junho's back.
It shouldn't mean anything-it doesn't, not really. Chansung's the captain of the soccer team now, he's got friends, good friends, proper friends, and he's happy. He's never needed Junho. It doesn't matter what's happened to Junho, or what he does from now on.
Chansung doesn't care about him at all.
-
Eleventh Grade. November.
Chansung doesn't remember his dreams very often, but when he does, they're always strange, fragments of stupid things that make less sense the more he thinks about them, but occasionally he'll-well.
There are sex dreams.
Those don't stay with him either, mostly he just knows he has them by the cleaning up he has to do in the morning, but this time, as soon as he wakes up, he has a perfect memory of everything that happened.
In his sex dream.
His gay sex dream.
His gay sex dream with Lee Junho.
Chansung doesn't even know where that came from. He hasn't thought about Lee Junho in months, not since he dropped out of the soccer team and started coming to school for mandatory classes only. He's seen glimpses of him in the halls, heard people talk about him, but it's like he's a ghost.
He had felt shockingly corporeal last night.
Chansung lets out a shaky breath, kicking off his sweaty covers, and the cold air is jarring but that's okay, that's good because everything about Dream Junho was just so. Hot. Burning. His breath, his skin, his dick, his come. He was kinky, too, the way he'd talked dirty, the way he'd begged, the way he'd opened himself up for Chansung, the way he'd licked at Chansung's balls, and Chansung-
Chansung fully intends on blaming this on Junho, but he thinks he understands, now, why it never worked with Jia.
-
Eleventh Grade. May.
Junho is accepted.
Chansung isn't.
Chansung congratulates him.
Junho ignores him and then insults him.
Chansung finally decides to stop trying.
-
Eleventh Grade. April.
Chansung expects to see Junho at the auditions.
Junho hasn't been involved with soccer much lately-he keeps skipping practice and Chansung has to sub in for him, which Coach isn't too happy about-but Chansung has seen him in different places around the school, watching music videos on his phone, practicing recent popular idol choreography, humming tunes under his breath. He heard him sing once too, something in English that even Chansung, with his less than impressive English skills, could tell was terribly pronounced, but it didn't matter, because Chansung is pretty sure Junho was gifted with the voice of an angel.
He wonders how Junho compares to all these other contestants, all these hopeful kids with beautiful dreams and stars in their eyes. Chansung himself knows he's an underdog, since he has no idea how to dance, he's tone deaf, and he has no idea how to model, but he picked one of his more interesting sword routines to perform, and he figures that if it's meant to happen, then it will.
He sees a few people he knows as he looks for a bathroom, even Jia, who he stops to exchange pleasantries with, and then he turns a corner and there Junho is, nervously working through a few dance steps before reaching up to pat down his hair.
It takes only a second of quiet contemplation before he approaches him.
"Yah, Junho-yah," Chansung says softly, and Junho half-turns towards him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pinched. "Fighting!"
Junho snorts. "I don't need your encouragement. You should save your energy." And he walks away.
Chansung wonders why he even bothers.
-
Tenth Grade. October.
Everyone else is doing it.
Chansung usually doesn't care about that sort of thing, he does what he needs to do in his own time, but he wasn't really offered a choice when he was shoved under the bleachers after practice by some of the older members of the team, Jia following quickly behind him and flashing him a cute little smirk before dropping to her knees and attacking his fly.
His dick had been her mouth before he'd even been able to process what was happening.
This has happened a few other times to the other tenth graders, but Chansung has always made himself scarce when it has. It's a stupid initiation, one he's not comfortable with, and while he could bring himself to enjoy the attention he's not going to do it just to live up to some stupid, gross tradition.
"Um," he croaks out, trying to stop his hips from bucking, "wait-can you-"
Jia makes a humming noise, leaning back and touching her hand to her mouth. She raises an eyebrow.
Chansung cringes. He tries to tell her she's doing great, she feels really good, but instead he says, "You don't have to do that."
She shifts back further, away from his crotch, and removes her hand from the base of his dick.
He likes Jia. Jia is a friend of Sunye's, but Sunye is everyone's friend so he supposes that doesn't really count. Still, he likes Jia's accent, likes the way she wears her uniform, just enough to individualise her but not enough to get in trouble. He likes how soft her hands are, how even though she was being rough with him she was careful with her nails and teeth.
"Unless… do you want to do it?" he asks.
She shrugs. "It's not a big deal. I like it."
"You do?"
"You don't?"
"I do," he says quickly. "You're great. But. We're friends, aren't we?"
Jia tilts her head, holding his gaze for a few moments before she smiles and pats his knee. "Put yourself away. Let's just say we did, right?"
As he zips up, he wonders if this has happened to Junho yet, but then Jia smiles and ducks out, and Chansung emerges after her to a chorus of cheers and some over-enthusiastic slaps on the back.
-
Tenth Grade. April.
It ends up being the most short-lived friendship he's ever had.
He may not be book-smart, but Chansung understands people. He knows about human relationships, the way they're always in flux, how they can alter and adapt, not to mention how easily they can shatter if you don't treat them like the precious gift they are, but even he doesn't expect his friendship with Junho to last less than a month.
Junho has perhaps mentioned the soccer team tryouts, and his desire to be on the team, once or twice (or fifty times) in the past few weeks, and Chansung thinks-why not? He likes Junho, likes spending time with him, so trying out as well is a great idea.
Junho doesn't think so. Chansung laughs and they show up together, where a twelfth grader named Seulong sorts them into makeshift teams. They're not grouped together, Chansung given a blue shirt and Junho a white, but that's okay, and he waves excitedly at Junho from across the field.
"Yah, you punks, listen up! We're only accepting five new players this year," Seulong announces. "So you better prove your worth! Start!"
Most of the tryout passes in a blur and Chansung relishes the burn of oxygen in his lungs, the sweat trickling down his temples to warm his frozen cheeks, the freedom he feels as he ducks and darts over the field.
He's playing at his best, too, he can feel it. Soccer isn't his specialty but he loves all sports, and he's a fast learner so it doesn't take him long to push past the basics already stored in his brain. Unfortunately, from the few times he's risked glancing Junho's way, Junho doesn't seem to be as lucky. He knows what he's doing, Chansung knows he does, he's done nothing but spout soccer theory since they met, but he's uncoordinated and clumsy, and at one point, while he's at goal, he trips over and falls directly on his ass.
Chansung tries to help him even though they're on opposite teams, tries to give him a few easy passes, but Junho is just getting worse, until finally-
They're completing one of the last exercises of the day. Chansung is on goal this time, Junho approaching him with the ball, and Chansung is just wondering whether he should let Junho get a goal when suddenly Junho is on top of him, knocking him to the ground, twisting their bodies up and holding Chansung there for a split second and rolling away, letting out a scream.
Chansung rolls himself into a sitting position. "Junho?" He tries to move towards him, to see if he's okay, but strong arms hold him back. "What-"
"Yah, what happened?" Seulong calls, jogging over.
"He just came at me!" Junho accuses, pointing wildly at Chansung with the hand not clutching his-perfectly fine-ankle.
Seulong frowns at him. "You need to calm down. You can't just start attacking everyone on the field."
Chansung blinks and gapes. Seulong turns away. Junho looks relieved.
Junho gets on the team. Chansung does too, but he's benched until he proves he's worthy, and he spends his first few practices shivering in the cold, watching Junho on the field and wondering how a stranger's approval could ever mean more to him than a friend.
-
Tenth Grade. March.
They become friends pretty quickly. Junho has newly moved to Seoul from Ilsan, Chansung's best friend moved to America at the end of last year, and they're just happy to find someone new, someone who understands. They're not in the same class but that's okay too, because now they have someone to talk to at lunch time, and there's always next year.
Chansung goes home on the first day of tenth grade with a smile on his face and a new phone number programmed into his phone.
-