ROUND 13: Equilibrium (Team Future)
Title: Equilibrium
Team: Future
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,578
Fandom: 2PM
Pairing: Wooyoung/Nichkhun ninja!Taecyeon/Jaebum and Chansung/Junho
Author's Note: Thank you to my beta's on my team, I am sorry it is so slow moving at times.
Nichkhun's alarm clock went off every morning at the same time, 5:15 a.m., for as long as he could remember. It's not like he had to continue to get up at a preposterously, absurd time, he could have probably squeaked in an extra hour or two, but he does, because that is what he's used to. It's a comfortable time for him, his body after the years of struggle has finally adjusted to this time slot.
He rolls out of bed, quite unceremoniously and trudges, sleep still stuck to the corner of his eyes down the hall to the bathroom, where he will proceed to wash his face before working out.
It isn't until he sits down for his morning coffee, in an empty apartment, whiter than the hospital he passes on his way to work that he feels it. That feeling of loneliness that cages down on him and leaves his heart aching.
Sighing Nichkhun pushes his chair out away from the table, stretches and sets his cup in the sink, only after rinsing it out of course.
His life is monotonous, a cycle he cannot break out of, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he would add that he didn't want to mix up his routine because he was scared to.
This was now comfortable, this mundane routine at 5:15 in the morning was somewhat of a relief; after years of dress rehearsals, dance practices and vocal lessons. His fingers fumble with his silk tie, a bright velvet red, that sticks out compared to his tan khaki's and white button up shirt.
Nichkhun pushes the thoughts away, that life was years ago, he is a different person now, he isn't the same Nichkhun Horvejukal that stood on the stage. No, now he is just a common man, his face barely standing out against the throng of blank, lifeless faces that commute with him to work.
Nichkhun has a steady nine to five job in an office over looking the city. The calendar says April 25th 2025, and for once in his life it is empty. Instead of relief however he feels bored. His assistant a pretty little thing who flirts with him like the world depends on it. Maybe she thinks that she will get a raise. Maybe she thinks he will provide her with the white picket fence, big suburban and two kids she's always dreamed of. Nichkhun never paid attention though, she just wasn't his type, even though she was gorgeous.
Nichkhun rubbed his temples and sighed his breath fogging up the cherry oak desk, where he was currently resting his heavy head. His eyes scanned over to the digital clock on the wall, the numbers stuck at a staggering 4:50 p.m. A groan slipped through his parted lips, the puff of cloud expanded as his breath came out across the desk.
His days no longer consisted of morning practices and trips to the gym. At points it was refreshing and others it drove him closer to his breaking point. Most of the time he didn't like to think about the past. It was too painful, he preferred to stay numb.
His assistant knocked and Nichkhun shot up, fixing his mussed and tousled locks of hair before calling her in. She smiled, her lips a soft cherry red just like his. He shook his head, stopping his thoughts before they ran away with him.
She set down the stack of papers, organized and color coordinated just like how she thought he would like them. Truthfully he missed the unorganized chaos that being in an idol group used to bring him.
She left, an unpleasant sigh falling from her lips and Nichkhun followed her out, not stopping to apologize. Normally he would have, because typically he was very polite, but he was on a mission. It was raining when he left the office and as fate would have it he had left his umbrella in the top left side drawer of his desk.
Nichkhun walked in long strides, the bottom of his pants soaking up the water on the ground. His fingers jerked in an awkward motion as he tried to jut his silver key into the lock to his apartment. His hair was plastered to his face, small rivulets of water following the curve of his jaw.
He slid out of his shoes, peeled his socks off, his feet hit the cold hardwood floors and made a soft padded sound with every hurried step. In his haste he forgot to close his front door, he veered right into his bedroom and blinked.
Everything was white in his apartment, spotless, tidy, organized to perfection. He wanted to scream, to tug at his tousled strands of auburn hair until they fell out in clumps. What had become of his less than perfect and ordinary life? When did he turn into the very thing he had once looked upon with disdain?
Falling to his knees beside his white carpet and lifting up the even whiter comforter, he looked frantically for the one thing he desperately needed. His hand hit the cold metal of the box and he yanked it out, pulling it to him and fumbling with the locked clip on the side.
Once it was open he paused. His fingers skimmed over the inside tender, as if the things inside would fall apart.
He pulled them out one at a time, a couple of their albums, some of those stupid headbands from the Without You Days. He smiled as he found an empty mango bag, that damn chain in the back of their van and his hat. He inhaled, it still smelt like him, even after five years.
2pm had disbanded seven years ago, for awhile they continued to live together, but then slowly things began to change. People had to move towards the jobs and they eventually trickled out of the dorm and into the real world. It had been five long years since Nichkhun had seen or talked to his fellow members, but not a day went by where he didn't think about them. Although sometimes he wished he didn't cause it fucking hurt.
His fingers skimmed over the clear plastic on the photo album and he flicked it open casually. The first picture was them sprawled in the studio, in various places. Nichkhun remembered that day, they had been happy there.
He remembered the way Taecyeon had been laying on the bench working out, adrenaline pumping through his veins and a vision of Jaebum in his head. He remembered himself leaning against the steamed mirror, legs stretched out taking it all in. The way Junho practiced harder and harder, wanting to be perfect so the fans might notice him, even though he was dripping with talent. Raw talent that Nichkhun had envied sometimes. Junsu was laying on the couch his head on Chansung's lap as he tapped his foot against the armrest. Chansung was playing with the strands of Junsu's hair, a serene expression was on Junsu's face as Chansung stuffed his face with Mangos, with his free one of course.
He remembered scanning the room, his eyes landing on Wooyoung's outline as he stood next to the stereo, thumbing through the limited selection they had. Nichkhun's heart fluttered and he wanted to get up, wanted to so bad, but he didn't. He stayed where he was.
Nichkhun snapped out of it as the photo album hit the carpet with a muffled thud. His hands were trembling. Only Wooyoung had that effect on him, even after five years without hearing so much as a shakily scrawled hello on the back of some cheesy postcard. At least then Nichkhun would fucking know he was alive. At the same time Nichkhun couldn't blame him, because if he was being honest with himself, he could have done the same thing. He could have scrawled a shaky hello and I fucking miss you on the back of a postcard, just as easy as Wooyoung.
After cramming all his memories in a cold metallic box, stuffing them way down and shoving them under his bed he felt a little bitter. He was sure there was probably some psychologist out there who would love to tell him how this was a big red flag, but he didn't care. Instead he walked himself out of his apartment, not forgetting to lock up, down the steps, out the door and to the bar two blocks over.
--
Nichkhun sometimes frequented this club called La Belle Dame, usually for a quick drink to help him cool down after an excruciating trip down memory lane. He would tell himself while he sipped away at the bitter tasting alcohol, that he just needed to get over it. The past was the past and there was no sense living in it.
He told himself this time and time again and yet he always failed. He always felt like he was surrounded the glass walls closing in around him. The harder he pushed the smaller the walls got. He was drowning in this lifestyle, drowning and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
--
It was late when he arrived, the business men who stopped by for a quick drink and a lap dance before going home to their wives were gone. All that was left was the sketchy looking regulars and himself.
One of the waitresses in shorts that revealed miles of legs and a shirt that showed off just as much cleavage took his order.
She flirted nonstop and Nichkhun wasn't sure what possessed him to ask her to go home with him, but he did.
--
He slept with her that night, kissed her and touched her in intimate places before falling asleep next to her. There was no cuddling or small talk after, just an awkward silence that he wasn't willing to fill.
He woke up to her next to him, the sunlight streaming through his white cotton curtains and making her skin glow. It didn't turn him on though and he felt his heart drop down into the pit of his stomach. She was stirring, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
She smiled gently as she leaned over him, ran her finger down his chest, he stopped it before it went any further and she frowned.
She didn't stay long, but dressed soon after her failed attempts with a fake plastered smile on her pretty face.
He hadn't meant to hurt her. He had thought it would be easy, but when he woke up next to the smell of cheap perfume, flowery shampoo and slender legs and curves it hurt.
He wanted Wooyoung who smelled of vanilla sugar cookies and rubbed his eyes cuter than any other person Nichkhun had ever known. He wanted eyes the color of a rare amethyst to look into his.
--
He eventually got over the loneliness he was feeling, although he had learned after five years that no one was going to fill the hole Wooyoung left, so there was no point in trying. Deep down he knew in two weeks he would be right back where he was just the other night. Hopefully this time though he could keep the desires at bay.
Life went on, much like it had, dark, dreary and mundane. Nichkhun felt disgusted with himself for losing touch with everything he had once stood. Sometimes he had the desire to pull his wavy brown locks out in fistfuls.
His suffocating life wouldn't change unless he himself physically changed it.
--
It took him four weeks to muster up the courage to change the route he walked on. Instead of taking his normal way home he went the long way, first which took him an extra twenty minutes, but slowly it was the more favorable route.
The scenery was different, a nice change of pace and it gave him a new found sense of confidence. So much so that he dared go to a new coffee shop. It was dimly lit with a cafe feel.
There coffee although less pricey, was just as good as the ridiculously overpriced stuff he bought at the boring star bucks right on the corner of the street his office was in.
There was something different about this cafe like coffee shop, it was homey. Maybe it was the warm colors, the oranges and yellows that invited him and lured him into the shop. Maybe it was how tastefully it was decorated or the small tables next to the windows or maybe it was the way the whole place smelled of freshly brewed coffee, unlike anything else he had ever smelled.
Nichkhun found himself leaving earlier in the morning in order to get a coffee in the morning and then a second at night. Sometimes the waitress gave him one on the house for being so loyal. He felt alive again, or well, as alive as he was going to get.
He had been frequenting for a few months, the leaves had turned into crispy reds, browns and yellows instead of the green they had once been.
He walked in flipping down his hood that had gotten slightly wet from the light drizzle falling from the sky.
His breath caught in his throat, because there in front of him, standing in all his glory was Chansung, two coffees in either hand. He was taller, more manly, but than again, he had always grown like a weed when they were in 2pm, so why would it be any different now.
Chansung slinked over to a table in the corner and the corners of Nichkhun's mouth turned up in a slight smile as he saw Junho. He looked happy as a Chansung slid in across from him and slid the cup of steaming coffee across to him.
Junho looked up caught his eyes, a look of pure astonishment crossing his face as he waved him over.
Nichkhun's stomach flipped in knots and he cringed lightly as he ordered his own Chai tea. Junho and Chansung's eyes were on him and he felt nervous, apprehensive at first. He slid into the booth next to Junho, fingers fumbling with the button on his jacket.
It was awkward at first until Chansung stupidly decided to try and drink his steaming hot cup of coffee and succeeded in burning his tongue.
"Ouch," Junho laughed at him and soon Nichkhun found himself laughing along too. The sound was foreign to his dry lips and it bubbled forth and into the air.
"What compelled you to drink something that had a mountain of steam coming out of it?" Junho questioned.
"I couldn't help it, it smelled so good." Chansung whined much like a child. Junho and Nichkhun collapsed in a fit of giggles much like they had five years ago. Really even though they had been disconnected for years, nothing could ever break their bond. He felt like he fit with them and always would. After that conversation was smooth, like they hadn't just randomly ran into each other in the dimly lit cafe.
"It's nice to see you," Junho smiled, it reached his eyes again like it had on stage when they stood tall and proud the seven of them, before Jaebum left. Back before the chaos had ensued.
He smiled albeit a little shy and dipped his head, hands holding his warm mug.
Chansung grinned that idiotic grin watching him. "Taecyeon will be happy we found you, man we thought you just disappeared off the face of the earth." The whiny tone in his voice made Junho snort. Even though Chansung had aged five years, mentally he was still the magnae.
"You guys kept in contact?" Nichkhun asked, feeling guilty as Junho and Chansung shared a knowing look.
"We were all close, we tried to keep in contact." Nichkhun shook his head, of course, why wouldn't they stay in touch.
He listened to stories of Taecyeon and how depressed he had been, he just hadn't been the same after Jaebum's unplanned departure. How could anyone get over something like that.
Chansung told him that it took him a whole year of moping before he set off Seattle, a look of pure concentration on his face. They lost touch with him for awhile, but eventually found him hand in hand with Jaebum in a convenience store they had all frequented for dried mangos.
Nichkhun watched, smiled as Chansung reached across the table and slid his fingers into the spaces between Junho's. He squeezed lightly and Junho squirmed. Nichkhun raised his eyebrow, Chansung never had known what an appropriate amount of public display of affection was. Nichkhun refused to look under the table as Chansung's lanky leg was probably brushing Junho in inappropriate places. He sighed and stared out the dimly lit cafe's window.
"He misses you, you know." Junho whispered between squirming, face completely serious. Nichkhun swallowed the thick bile in his throat that threatened to come back up. He hadn't thought about Wooyoung missing him, only how much he missed the other.
" A lot," Chansung added, smirking as Junho bit his lip and squeezed the other males hand. Nichkhun watched them interact, the passion in their eyes. He envied it and he couldn't help but wonder that if he hadn't messed it up, he could have still had that.
Junho and Chansung exchanged knowing looks, swapped numbers with him and invited him to dinner the next night with Taecyeon and Jaebum. Nichkhun grinned and contemplated declining, but the hope in their eyes wasn't something he could have crushed.
---
He woke up disoriented, body covered in a light sheen of sweat and the white sheets clenched tightly between his fingers. He had had that dream again, it had been recurring for quite sometime. He hated feeling as if he was drowning, even though he quite clearly was. He was lost, drowning in the monotony of his so called life. He needed to break free from the confinements that he had put around himself. Only one thing would set him free. The only problem was that one thing was something he didn't think he deserved.
--
Despite the fact that Nichkhun thought it would be a bad idea, he showed up for the dinner. Junho beamed waving him over as Chansung looked up from where he had been successfully turning some of Junho's skin on his neck purple and grinned. Yep, they most definitely hadn't changed. Maybe he was the only one who had changed.
He settled down Taecyeon yelling his name as he walked in his hand in Jaebum's back pocket lightly, following him.
He was still just as whipped. It was sweet to see them together, they had been through a lot as a couple. They slid into the booth, trapping him. It was sad really how awkward he felt. Was he really the only one who had been miserable in five years. Taecyeon's eyes made that impish grin as he teased Jaebum, who in retaliation smacked him in the bicep and called him ass.
"Yo Khun where the hell have you been man." Jaebum replied after successfully "taking care" of Taecyeon's odd behavior, which involved a squeezing hand.
"Working," he replied shrugging and Jaebum gave him a concerned look. Even though he hadn't been the leader for quite sometime, he still gave off that impression of authority. He cared for him.
"Man you could have called, had me worried." Jaebum smiled, he knew Nichkhun more than Nichkhun knew himself sometimes and it scared him. Jaebum secretly knew that Nichkhun would have called if he had needed anything. The only thing he had needed was Wooyoung, but he wasn't here.
The bell on the door rang and he looked up a man decked in a scarf and a scrawnier boy walked in and his breath hitched cause there in front of him, quite clearly was Junsu. He wasn't interested in him though but the boy beside him. Dark eyes the color of coal with dark tresses of hair that matched stood there, grinding his toe nervously into the carpet. Jaebum sent him a mischievous smile as he moved and pushed Wooyoung into the booth next to him.
Nichkhun's breath hitched in his throat as he inhaled and suddenly the world didn't feel like it was pressing down onto him. The walls seemed to be relaxing around him. Where had this boy been hiding? How had he lived without him? His mind was going a million miles an hour. Wooyoung was quiet, shy, as if he didn't know what to say.
He looked exactly the same as he had all those years ago. Suddenly the past, the one that Nichkhun had buried away, hoping that maybe his soul would kidnap and hide the horrible memories for him came rushing back.
Wooyoung with bed head in his pajamas in the practice room dancing until Nichkhun waltzed over and kissed him hard.
Or all the mornings that he had watched Wooyoung's even breathing as he slept soundly in his arms. Nichkhun had really missed having the whole world at his fingertips, the band, the fame, the fans, the clothes, but more importantly having his whole world in his arms.
He watched him out of the corner of his eye, the conversation around the table seemed dull and hazy as if he were under water. He slid his hand under the table, searched for Wooyoung's hand and held it.
It was cold, just like he remembered, Wooyoung's toes and fingers and his nose were always cold. He remembered when the boy buried it in the side of his neck and they were always frigid. He squeezed and Wooyoung looked up at him with such an intense gaze that it stole his breath away.
That one look said it all. Every hurt emotion that he had housed. Nichkhun stroked his thumb over the smooth flesh gently, smiled as Wooyoung's hand clenched tightly around his and a visible shiver ran through him, but it was the way his breath hitched.
--
edited until here
--
The night flew by in a blur of colors, laughter, retold memories. Nichkhun laughed until he cried. He hadn't had a night out like this since the last time they had all gotten together and had a good time. He missed it more than he thought.
He stood up his hand still locked with Wooyoung's. He chuckled as he pulled Wooyoung out behind him, his cheeks were flushed, rosy red, it looked good on him.
"Come home with me," Nichkhun whispered in his ear. Wooyoung nodded and they parted with a wave of their hands out into the open night air.
The walk home was long and as soon as they closed the door Wooyoung's back was pushed against it with Nichkhun's wandering hands.
The sparks between them ignited, just like they had all those years ago, they were rekindling the fire, so to speak.
Wooyoung's mouth met his, his lips soft and plush pressed eagerly, hands winding up around his neck and clasping.
Nichkhun lifted Wooyoung's leg, the right one and wound it around his waist, grinding into him. Wooyoung threw his head back, hair flying wildly into his eyes as he closed his eyes, mouth parting lightly in a small moan.
" I missed you," Nichkhun whispered as he pressed frantic kisses to the strong jawline. This was home right here, this is what he had desperately been craving every night.
"Prove it," IT was hot, sultry as it fanned across Nichkhun's now bare shoulders and he smirked. It was such a Wooyoung thing to do. Suddenly they were five years younger in Nichkhun's single bedroom, making out hot and heavy.
He carried him, pants falling around his ankles as he tried not to trip back toward his bedroom. The white, now satin sheets were cool under their perspiring skin.
Nichkhun took his time, making sure that every stroke of his hand, that every fleeting kiss and lingering look tried to show half of what he was feeling inside. He wasn't sure he had accomplished it, but then Wooyoung said his name, let it roll off his tongue, like the light refreshing breeze on a hot and muggy day.
He laid there after staring at him, stroking the strands of dark, black, fluffy strands. His arm was haphazardly thrown across his waist, their legs tangled in a mess of sheets. He wouldn't have it any other way.
All was quiet, Wooyoung's even breathing was a lulling calm, his eyes drooped with sleepiness. His house finally felt like a home.
He was just about to go to sleep when Wooyoung's voice rang out in the stillness.
"Do you miss it?"
"Huh?" Nichkhun forced out of his sleep laden throat, eyebrow furrowing underneath his own hairline.
"Miss us, miss 2pm, miss how it used to be?" Wooyoung wasn't facing him as he spoke, as if he was afraid of the answer.
Nichkhun pulled him closer, tightened his arm and hooked his chin over the bare shoulder in front of him.
"Always," he insisted.
It was the truth. He missed Chansung screaming about food one minute only to completely calm down when one thrusted a banana at his face. He missed how he stumbled out of his own bedroom only to see Wooyoung laying on the floor, but sticking out, on the nights when he wasn't sleeping with him. He even missed tripping over Chansung as he stared and the jokes that came along with being caught gawking at him.
He missed how Junho always hogged the hot water, because his showers lasted forever, when you threw in Chansung it never helped. The showers only got longer and longer.
He missed how Junsu ate threw cellphone minutes because his dog might decided to speak back one day and he might miss it.
He had longed to watch Jaebum call Taecyeon stupid, for Taecyeon to get upset and hit him lightly only for the shorter of the two to retaliate until they were rolling on the floor, pinning each other. He shuddered as he remembered how they would kiss angrily, teeth clashing, lip biting and a hate so deep in their eyes it could only be called love.
He wanted it all back, but if he could only choose one thing it would be Wooyoung. There was something about the way his name sounded rolling off his lips at two in the morning when Wooyoung had, had a bad dream and needed a cuddle buddy.
Wooyoung seemed to sense this though as he snuggled back into his chest and sighed content for the moment.
So many things had changed and sometimes Nichkhun hated them all, sometimes he hated how boy bands were just a fad and pretty soon you were too old and newer, better boy bands came around.
If he could he would turn back time and start it all over, even the hard trainee days, just to be able to have it all again. To have Wooyoung again, to himself, all the time.
His phone vibrated and he picked it up off the floor.
You better have used fucking protection Khun or I'll come over there and open a can of whoop ass on you .... have fun ; )
Jaebum
Nichkhun snorted, maybe things hadn't changed that much after all.
Team: Future
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,578
Fandom: 2PM
Pairing: Wooyoung/Nichkhun ninja!Taecyeon/Jaebum and Chansung/Junho
Author's Note: Thank you to my beta's on my team, I am sorry it is so slow moving at times.
Nichkhun's alarm clock went off every morning at the same time, 5:15 a.m., for as long as he could remember. It's not like he had to continue to get up at a preposterously, absurd time, he could have probably squeaked in an extra hour or two, but he does, because that is what he's used to. It's a comfortable time for him, his body after the years of struggle has finally adjusted to this time slot.
He rolls out of bed, quite unceremoniously and trudges, sleep still stuck to the corner of his eyes down the hall to the bathroom, where he will proceed to wash his face before working out.
It isn't until he sits down for his morning coffee, in an empty apartment, whiter than the hospital he passes on his way to work that he feels it. That feeling of loneliness that cages down on him and leaves his heart aching.
Sighing Nichkhun pushes his chair out away from the table, stretches and sets his cup in the sink, only after rinsing it out of course.
His life is monotonous, a cycle he cannot break out of, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he would add that he didn't want to mix up his routine because he was scared to.
This was now comfortable, this mundane routine at 5:15 in the morning was somewhat of a relief; after years of dress rehearsals, dance practices and vocal lessons. His fingers fumble with his silk tie, a bright velvet red, that sticks out compared to his tan khaki's and white button up shirt.
Nichkhun pushes the thoughts away, that life was years ago, he is a different person now, he isn't the same Nichkhun Horvejukal that stood on the stage. No, now he is just a common man, his face barely standing out against the throng of blank, lifeless faces that commute with him to work.
Nichkhun has a steady nine to five job in an office over looking the city. The calendar says April 25th 2025, and for once in his life it is empty. Instead of relief however he feels bored. His assistant a pretty little thing who flirts with him like the world depends on it. Maybe she thinks that she will get a raise. Maybe she thinks he will provide her with the white picket fence, big suburban and two kids she's always dreamed of. Nichkhun never paid attention though, she just wasn't his type, even though she was gorgeous.
Nichkhun rubbed his temples and sighed his breath fogging up the cherry oak desk, where he was currently resting his heavy head. His eyes scanned over to the digital clock on the wall, the numbers stuck at a staggering 4:50 p.m. A groan slipped through his parted lips, the puff of cloud expanded as his breath came out across the desk.
His days no longer consisted of morning practices and trips to the gym. At points it was refreshing and others it drove him closer to his breaking point. Most of the time he didn't like to think about the past. It was too painful, he preferred to stay numb.
His assistant knocked and Nichkhun shot up, fixing his mussed and tousled locks of hair before calling her in. She smiled, her lips a soft cherry red just like his. He shook his head, stopping his thoughts before they ran away with him.
She set down the stack of papers, organized and color coordinated just like how she thought he would like them. Truthfully he missed the unorganized chaos that being in an idol group used to bring him.
She left, an unpleasant sigh falling from her lips and Nichkhun followed her out, not stopping to apologize. Normally he would have, because typically he was very polite, but he was on a mission. It was raining when he left the office and as fate would have it he had left his umbrella in the top left side drawer of his desk.
Nichkhun walked in long strides, the bottom of his pants soaking up the water on the ground. His fingers jerked in an awkward motion as he tried to jut his silver key into the lock to his apartment. His hair was plastered to his face, small rivulets of water following the curve of his jaw.
He slid out of his shoes, peeled his socks off, his feet hit the cold hardwood floors and made a soft padded sound with every hurried step. In his haste he forgot to close his front door, he veered right into his bedroom and blinked.
Everything was white in his apartment, spotless, tidy, organized to perfection. He wanted to scream, to tug at his tousled strands of auburn hair until they fell out in clumps. What had become of his less than perfect and ordinary life? When did he turn into the very thing he had once looked upon with disdain?
Falling to his knees beside his white carpet and lifting up the even whiter comforter, he looked frantically for the one thing he desperately needed. His hand hit the cold metal of the box and he yanked it out, pulling it to him and fumbling with the locked clip on the side.
Once it was open he paused. His fingers skimmed over the inside tender, as if the things inside would fall apart.
He pulled them out one at a time, a couple of their albums, some of those stupid headbands from the Without You Days. He smiled as he found an empty mango bag, that damn chain in the back of their van and his hat. He inhaled, it still smelt like him, even after five years.
2pm had disbanded seven years ago, for awhile they continued to live together, but then slowly things began to change. People had to move towards the jobs and they eventually trickled out of the dorm and into the real world. It had been five long years since Nichkhun had seen or talked to his fellow members, but not a day went by where he didn't think about them. Although sometimes he wished he didn't cause it fucking hurt.
His fingers skimmed over the clear plastic on the photo album and he flicked it open casually. The first picture was them sprawled in the studio, in various places. Nichkhun remembered that day, they had been happy there.
He remembered the way Taecyeon had been laying on the bench working out, adrenaline pumping through his veins and a vision of Jaebum in his head. He remembered himself leaning against the steamed mirror, legs stretched out taking it all in. The way Junho practiced harder and harder, wanting to be perfect so the fans might notice him, even though he was dripping with talent. Raw talent that Nichkhun had envied sometimes. Junsu was laying on the couch his head on Chansung's lap as he tapped his foot against the armrest. Chansung was playing with the strands of Junsu's hair, a serene expression was on Junsu's face as Chansung stuffed his face with Mangos, with his free one of course.
He remembered scanning the room, his eyes landing on Wooyoung's outline as he stood next to the stereo, thumbing through the limited selection they had. Nichkhun's heart fluttered and he wanted to get up, wanted to so bad, but he didn't. He stayed where he was.
Nichkhun snapped out of it as the photo album hit the carpet with a muffled thud. His hands were trembling. Only Wooyoung had that effect on him, even after five years without hearing so much as a shakily scrawled hello on the back of some cheesy postcard. At least then Nichkhun would fucking know he was alive. At the same time Nichkhun couldn't blame him, because if he was being honest with himself, he could have done the same thing. He could have scrawled a shaky hello and I fucking miss you on the back of a postcard, just as easy as Wooyoung.
After cramming all his memories in a cold metallic box, stuffing them way down and shoving them under his bed he felt a little bitter. He was sure there was probably some psychologist out there who would love to tell him how this was a big red flag, but he didn't care. Instead he walked himself out of his apartment, not forgetting to lock up, down the steps, out the door and to the bar two blocks over.
--
Nichkhun sometimes frequented this club called La Belle Dame, usually for a quick drink to help him cool down after an excruciating trip down memory lane. He would tell himself while he sipped away at the bitter tasting alcohol, that he just needed to get over it. The past was the past and there was no sense living in it.
He told himself this time and time again and yet he always failed. He always felt like he was surrounded the glass walls closing in around him. The harder he pushed the smaller the walls got. He was drowning in this lifestyle, drowning and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
--
It was late when he arrived, the business men who stopped by for a quick drink and a lap dance before going home to their wives were gone. All that was left was the sketchy looking regulars and himself.
One of the waitresses in shorts that revealed miles of legs and a shirt that showed off just as much cleavage took his order.
She flirted nonstop and Nichkhun wasn't sure what possessed him to ask her to go home with him, but he did.
--
He slept with her that night, kissed her and touched her in intimate places before falling asleep next to her. There was no cuddling or small talk after, just an awkward silence that he wasn't willing to fill.
He woke up to her next to him, the sunlight streaming through his white cotton curtains and making her skin glow. It didn't turn him on though and he felt his heart drop down into the pit of his stomach. She was stirring, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
She smiled gently as she leaned over him, ran her finger down his chest, he stopped it before it went any further and she frowned.
She didn't stay long, but dressed soon after her failed attempts with a fake plastered smile on her pretty face.
He hadn't meant to hurt her. He had thought it would be easy, but when he woke up next to the smell of cheap perfume, flowery shampoo and slender legs and curves it hurt.
He wanted Wooyoung who smelled of vanilla sugar cookies and rubbed his eyes cuter than any other person Nichkhun had ever known. He wanted eyes the color of a rare amethyst to look into his.
--
He eventually got over the loneliness he was feeling, although he had learned after five years that no one was going to fill the hole Wooyoung left, so there was no point in trying. Deep down he knew in two weeks he would be right back where he was just the other night. Hopefully this time though he could keep the desires at bay.
Life went on, much like it had, dark, dreary and mundane. Nichkhun felt disgusted with himself for losing touch with everything he had once stood. Sometimes he had the desire to pull his wavy brown locks out in fistfuls.
His suffocating life wouldn't change unless he himself physically changed it.
--
It took him four weeks to muster up the courage to change the route he walked on. Instead of taking his normal way home he went the long way, first which took him an extra twenty minutes, but slowly it was the more favorable route.
The scenery was different, a nice change of pace and it gave him a new found sense of confidence. So much so that he dared go to a new coffee shop. It was dimly lit with a cafe feel.
There coffee although less pricey, was just as good as the ridiculously overpriced stuff he bought at the boring star bucks right on the corner of the street his office was in.
There was something different about this cafe like coffee shop, it was homey. Maybe it was the warm colors, the oranges and yellows that invited him and lured him into the shop. Maybe it was how tastefully it was decorated or the small tables next to the windows or maybe it was the way the whole place smelled of freshly brewed coffee, unlike anything else he had ever smelled.
Nichkhun found himself leaving earlier in the morning in order to get a coffee in the morning and then a second at night. Sometimes the waitress gave him one on the house for being so loyal. He felt alive again, or well, as alive as he was going to get.
He had been frequenting for a few months, the leaves had turned into crispy reds, browns and yellows instead of the green they had once been.
He walked in flipping down his hood that had gotten slightly wet from the light drizzle falling from the sky.
His breath caught in his throat, because there in front of him, standing in all his glory was Chansung, two coffees in either hand. He was taller, more manly, but than again, he had always grown like a weed when they were in 2pm, so why would it be any different now.
Chansung slinked over to a table in the corner and the corners of Nichkhun's mouth turned up in a slight smile as he saw Junho. He looked happy as a Chansung slid in across from him and slid the cup of steaming coffee across to him.
Junho looked up caught his eyes, a look of pure astonishment crossing his face as he waved him over.
Nichkhun's stomach flipped in knots and he cringed lightly as he ordered his own Chai tea. Junho and Chansung's eyes were on him and he felt nervous, apprehensive at first. He slid into the booth next to Junho, fingers fumbling with the button on his jacket.
It was awkward at first until Chansung stupidly decided to try and drink his steaming hot cup of coffee and succeeded in burning his tongue.
"Ouch," Junho laughed at him and soon Nichkhun found himself laughing along too. The sound was foreign to his dry lips and it bubbled forth and into the air.
"What compelled you to drink something that had a mountain of steam coming out of it?" Junho questioned.
"I couldn't help it, it smelled so good." Chansung whined much like a child. Junho and Nichkhun collapsed in a fit of giggles much like they had five years ago. Really even though they had been disconnected for years, nothing could ever break their bond. He felt like he fit with them and always would. After that conversation was smooth, like they hadn't just randomly ran into each other in the dimly lit cafe.
"It's nice to see you," Junho smiled, it reached his eyes again like it had on stage when they stood tall and proud the seven of them, before Jaebum left. Back before the chaos had ensued.
He smiled albeit a little shy and dipped his head, hands holding his warm mug.
Chansung grinned that idiotic grin watching him. "Taecyeon will be happy we found you, man we thought you just disappeared off the face of the earth." The whiny tone in his voice made Junho snort. Even though Chansung had aged five years, mentally he was still the magnae.
"You guys kept in contact?" Nichkhun asked, feeling guilty as Junho and Chansung shared a knowing look.
"We were all close, we tried to keep in contact." Nichkhun shook his head, of course, why wouldn't they stay in touch.
He listened to stories of Taecyeon and how depressed he had been, he just hadn't been the same after Jaebum's unplanned departure. How could anyone get over something like that.
Chansung told him that it took him a whole year of moping before he set off Seattle, a look of pure concentration on his face. They lost touch with him for awhile, but eventually found him hand in hand with Jaebum in a convenience store they had all frequented for dried mangos.
Nichkhun watched, smiled as Chansung reached across the table and slid his fingers into the spaces between Junho's. He squeezed lightly and Junho squirmed. Nichkhun raised his eyebrow, Chansung never had known what an appropriate amount of public display of affection was. Nichkhun refused to look under the table as Chansung's lanky leg was probably brushing Junho in inappropriate places. He sighed and stared out the dimly lit cafe's window.
"He misses you, you know." Junho whispered between squirming, face completely serious. Nichkhun swallowed the thick bile in his throat that threatened to come back up. He hadn't thought about Wooyoung missing him, only how much he missed the other.
" A lot," Chansung added, smirking as Junho bit his lip and squeezed the other males hand. Nichkhun watched them interact, the passion in their eyes. He envied it and he couldn't help but wonder that if he hadn't messed it up, he could have still had that.
Junho and Chansung exchanged knowing looks, swapped numbers with him and invited him to dinner the next night with Taecyeon and Jaebum. Nichkhun grinned and contemplated declining, but the hope in their eyes wasn't something he could have crushed.
---
He woke up disoriented, body covered in a light sheen of sweat and the white sheets clenched tightly between his fingers. He had had that dream again, it had been recurring for quite sometime. He hated feeling as if he was drowning, even though he quite clearly was. He was lost, drowning in the monotony of his so called life. He needed to break free from the confinements that he had put around himself. Only one thing would set him free. The only problem was that one thing was something he didn't think he deserved.
--
Despite the fact that Nichkhun thought it would be a bad idea, he showed up for the dinner. Junho beamed waving him over as Chansung looked up from where he had been successfully turning some of Junho's skin on his neck purple and grinned. Yep, they most definitely hadn't changed. Maybe he was the only one who had changed.
He settled down Taecyeon yelling his name as he walked in his hand in Jaebum's back pocket lightly, following him.
He was still just as whipped. It was sweet to see them together, they had been through a lot as a couple. They slid into the booth, trapping him. It was sad really how awkward he felt. Was he really the only one who had been miserable in five years. Taecyeon's eyes made that impish grin as he teased Jaebum, who in retaliation smacked him in the bicep and called him ass.
"Yo Khun where the hell have you been man." Jaebum replied after successfully "taking care" of Taecyeon's odd behavior, which involved a squeezing hand.
"Working," he replied shrugging and Jaebum gave him a concerned look. Even though he hadn't been the leader for quite sometime, he still gave off that impression of authority. He cared for him.
"Man you could have called, had me worried." Jaebum smiled, he knew Nichkhun more than Nichkhun knew himself sometimes and it scared him. Jaebum secretly knew that Nichkhun would have called if he had needed anything. The only thing he had needed was Wooyoung, but he wasn't here.
The bell on the door rang and he looked up a man decked in a scarf and a scrawnier boy walked in and his breath hitched cause there in front of him, quite clearly was Junsu. He wasn't interested in him though but the boy beside him. Dark eyes the color of coal with dark tresses of hair that matched stood there, grinding his toe nervously into the carpet. Jaebum sent him a mischievous smile as he moved and pushed Wooyoung into the booth next to him.
Nichkhun's breath hitched in his throat as he inhaled and suddenly the world didn't feel like it was pressing down onto him. The walls seemed to be relaxing around him. Where had this boy been hiding? How had he lived without him? His mind was going a million miles an hour. Wooyoung was quiet, shy, as if he didn't know what to say.
He looked exactly the same as he had all those years ago. Suddenly the past, the one that Nichkhun had buried away, hoping that maybe his soul would kidnap and hide the horrible memories for him came rushing back.
Wooyoung with bed head in his pajamas in the practice room dancing until Nichkhun waltzed over and kissed him hard.
Or all the mornings that he had watched Wooyoung's even breathing as he slept soundly in his arms. Nichkhun had really missed having the whole world at his fingertips, the band, the fame, the fans, the clothes, but more importantly having his whole world in his arms.
He watched him out of the corner of his eye, the conversation around the table seemed dull and hazy as if he were under water. He slid his hand under the table, searched for Wooyoung's hand and held it.
It was cold, just like he remembered, Wooyoung's toes and fingers and his nose were always cold. He remembered when the boy buried it in the side of his neck and they were always frigid. He squeezed and Wooyoung looked up at him with such an intense gaze that it stole his breath away.
That one look said it all. Every hurt emotion that he had housed. Nichkhun stroked his thumb over the smooth flesh gently, smiled as Wooyoung's hand clenched tightly around his and a visible shiver ran through him, but it was the way his breath hitched.
--
edited until here
--
The night flew by in a blur of colors, laughter, retold memories. Nichkhun laughed until he cried. He hadn't had a night out like this since the last time they had all gotten together and had a good time. He missed it more than he thought.
He stood up his hand still locked with Wooyoung's. He chuckled as he pulled Wooyoung out behind him, his cheeks were flushed, rosy red, it looked good on him.
"Come home with me," Nichkhun whispered in his ear. Wooyoung nodded and they parted with a wave of their hands out into the open night air.
The walk home was long and as soon as they closed the door Wooyoung's back was pushed against it with Nichkhun's wandering hands.
The sparks between them ignited, just like they had all those years ago, they were rekindling the fire, so to speak.
Wooyoung's mouth met his, his lips soft and plush pressed eagerly, hands winding up around his neck and clasping.
Nichkhun lifted Wooyoung's leg, the right one and wound it around his waist, grinding into him. Wooyoung threw his head back, hair flying wildly into his eyes as he closed his eyes, mouth parting lightly in a small moan.
" I missed you," Nichkhun whispered as he pressed frantic kisses to the strong jawline. This was home right here, this is what he had desperately been craving every night.
"Prove it," IT was hot, sultry as it fanned across Nichkhun's now bare shoulders and he smirked. It was such a Wooyoung thing to do. Suddenly they were five years younger in Nichkhun's single bedroom, making out hot and heavy.
He carried him, pants falling around his ankles as he tried not to trip back toward his bedroom. The white, now satin sheets were cool under their perspiring skin.
Nichkhun took his time, making sure that every stroke of his hand, that every fleeting kiss and lingering look tried to show half of what he was feeling inside. He wasn't sure he had accomplished it, but then Wooyoung said his name, let it roll off his tongue, like the light refreshing breeze on a hot and muggy day.
He laid there after staring at him, stroking the strands of dark, black, fluffy strands. His arm was haphazardly thrown across his waist, their legs tangled in a mess of sheets. He wouldn't have it any other way.
All was quiet, Wooyoung's even breathing was a lulling calm, his eyes drooped with sleepiness. His house finally felt like a home.
He was just about to go to sleep when Wooyoung's voice rang out in the stillness.
"Do you miss it?"
"Huh?" Nichkhun forced out of his sleep laden throat, eyebrow furrowing underneath his own hairline.
"Miss us, miss 2pm, miss how it used to be?" Wooyoung wasn't facing him as he spoke, as if he was afraid of the answer.
Nichkhun pulled him closer, tightened his arm and hooked his chin over the bare shoulder in front of him.
"Always," he insisted.
It was the truth. He missed Chansung screaming about food one minute only to completely calm down when one thrusted a banana at his face. He missed how he stumbled out of his own bedroom only to see Wooyoung laying on the floor, but sticking out, on the nights when he wasn't sleeping with him. He even missed tripping over Chansung as he stared and the jokes that came along with being caught gawking at him.
He missed how Junho always hogged the hot water, because his showers lasted forever, when you threw in Chansung it never helped. The showers only got longer and longer.
He missed how Junsu ate threw cellphone minutes because his dog might decided to speak back one day and he might miss it.
He had longed to watch Jaebum call Taecyeon stupid, for Taecyeon to get upset and hit him lightly only for the shorter of the two to retaliate until they were rolling on the floor, pinning each other. He shuddered as he remembered how they would kiss angrily, teeth clashing, lip biting and a hate so deep in their eyes it could only be called love.
He wanted it all back, but if he could only choose one thing it would be Wooyoung. There was something about the way his name sounded rolling off his lips at two in the morning when Wooyoung had, had a bad dream and needed a cuddle buddy.
Wooyoung seemed to sense this though as he snuggled back into his chest and sighed content for the moment.
So many things had changed and sometimes Nichkhun hated them all, sometimes he hated how boy bands were just a fad and pretty soon you were too old and newer, better boy bands came around.
If he could he would turn back time and start it all over, even the hard trainee days, just to be able to have it all again. To have Wooyoung again, to himself, all the time.
His phone vibrated and he picked it up off the floor.
You better have used fucking protection Khun or I'll come over there and open a can of whoop ass on you .... have fun ; )
Jaebum
Nichkhun snorted, maybe things hadn't changed that much after all.