round 03, challenge eight: drabble one
Title: should've given you a reason to stay
Fandom and Pairing: yg ent; jinusean
Rating: pg
Word Count: 100 x 2
Summary: on your machine i slur a plea for you to come home.
Warnings: none
the subway station smells like old french fries and cheap perfume is the first sentence out of jinu's mouth, and he's surprised sean doesn't hang up on him immediately.
say something, he pleads, i can hear you breathing. sean doesn't reply, but he's still listening, so jinu keeps murmuring vague nothings; things like fuck-fuck-fuck and you should come out with us more often and god, you're such a self-righteous bitch.
things like i love you, i miss you, and he's sobbing into the receiver now, wet heaves erratic like the fluttering of his pulse. come get me. let's go home.
- - -
jinu's drunken voice crescendos over the line, and before he realizes it, sean's already halfway out the door in just a pair of pajama pants, car keys in hand.
he has to force himself back inside, and he leans his feverish forehead against the cool cement wall. he isn't young or naive like he was before; he won't be fooled by pretty words. he can't just drop everything for jinu anymore. he has his own obligations and responsibilities.
in the end, (as usual), he hangs up and climbs back into bed, tossing and turning every time the phone rings again.
Fandom and Pairing: yg ent; jinusean
Rating: pg
Word Count: 100 x 2
Summary: on your machine i slur a plea for you to come home.
Warnings: none
the subway station smells like old french fries and cheap perfume is the first sentence out of jinu's mouth, and he's surprised sean doesn't hang up on him immediately.
say something, he pleads, i can hear you breathing. sean doesn't reply, but he's still listening, so jinu keeps murmuring vague nothings; things like fuck-fuck-fuck and you should come out with us more often and god, you're such a self-righteous bitch.
things like i love you, i miss you, and he's sobbing into the receiver now, wet heaves erratic like the fluttering of his pulse. come get me. let's go home.
- - -
jinu's drunken voice crescendos over the line, and before he realizes it, sean's already halfway out the door in just a pair of pajama pants, car keys in hand.
he has to force himself back inside, and he leans his feverish forehead against the cool cement wall. he isn't young or naive like he was before; he won't be fooled by pretty words. he can't just drop everything for jinu anymore. he has his own obligations and responsibilities.
in the end, (as usual), he hangs up and climbs back into bed, tossing and turning every time the phone rings again.