traces of snow, woohyun/sungjong
anonymous
August 14 2012, 04:30:06 UTC
it's during their sixth promotion in japan when sungjong tells them he's not going back to seoul.
"the managers already know," he says calmly. woohyun is still paying too much attention to sungjong's socks: they don't match and when it finally hits him, everyone else is already on their feet, nodding their understanding.
infinite is bound for a hiatus anyway, with sunggyu and dongwoo's enlistment to the army as soon as they return to korea but sungjong isn't supposed to stay here. no. "sungjong," woohyn says, pushing himself to his feet. it probably comes out harsher than he intends it to, because sungjong turns to him.
"you can come with me to the train station. i'm leaving for hiroshima tomorrow. my parents have a friend there," he explains, as if woohyun actually cares. and perhaps woohyun actually does care; maybe he's been caring far more than he should have been for sungjong, in between their rehearsals and before bedtime, when they're both alone together doing mundane things he can't even recall. perhaps sungjong is a lot more perceptive than woohyun has given him credit for.
woohyun opens his mouth. "your socks don't match."
sungjong smiles sadly and leaves woohyun with that before following the sound of dongwoo's voice, because he's promising them all daifukus from the store down the road from their hotel.
but hiroshima isn't a safe place, woohyun thinks quickly, the thoughts tripping over themselves in his head. there was a nuclear bombing. and then: your socks don't match. who is going to tell you when your socks don't match, in hiroshima, in tokyo, in anywhere that is not seoul?
||
it is snowing when they arrive at the train station. sungjong has mufflers over his ears, and woohyun wonders if it's a sign telling him that whatever he wants to tell sungjong, it is a little too late for him to hear.
"it's a cold day," sungjong says, breaking the silence that clouds the both of them.
"you're going to leave for hiroshima and all you can talk about is the weather?"
sungjong turns to face him, before woohyun can rearrange his face into something less betrayed and irrationally hurt. "why don't you talk now, hyung."
that is the problem. he doesn't know what to tell sungjong, what to say or how he even feels about them - whether there really is a 'them'.
"hiroshima isn't a safe place," woohyun says, because it's the truth and because it's the closest thing he can get to asking sungjong to stay.
"the nuclear bombing happened decades ago, hyung." sungjong's tone is pointed but patient, and woohyn notes how much more matured he sounds compared to the loud, excitable boy who had debuted years and years ago. woohyun has been in love with the same person across different a range of different fronts and it's pretty amazing, when he really thinks about it. "ah, the train is here."
woohyun looks up and there it is, sleek and silver. he stands and stuffs his hands into his pockets and sungjong gathers up his belongings.
"your socks," he says, as they both make their way to the train, "they match today." woohyun's voice sounds rough now. you'll do fine without me, woohyun thinks and it hurts.
sungjong nods. the train departs. the snow melts. woohyun decides he will wait: for sungjong, and for the words.
Re: traces of snow, woohyun/sungjong
anonymous
August 14 2012, 06:29:33 UTC
oh, this is so sweet and poignant. <3 i love how hopeful this is: while sad, obviously, the reluctant acceptance, assurance and maturity in woohyun's pov paints a far more meaningful picture than something wholly more angsty.
you've definitely opened my eyes to a pairing i previously haven't taken notice of.
(and thanks for the brutal realisation none of the group have enlisted for their compulsory military duty yet. D:)
oh!! i certainly wasn't expecting this pairing but wow, it works really well -- very appropriate. you captured the spirit of the song so nicely. ♥ ♥ ♥ thank you so much!! ; 3;
Re: traces of snow, woohyun/sungjong
anonymous
October 7 2012, 23:12:16 UTC
oh anon, this was so pretty. the muted feeling of it all, the sheen of woohyun's feelings, and i love your sungjong, he's just how i imagine him. i hope you write more :)
"the managers already know," he says calmly. woohyun is still paying too much attention to sungjong's socks: they don't match and when it finally hits him, everyone else is already on their feet, nodding their understanding.
infinite is bound for a hiatus anyway, with sunggyu and dongwoo's enlistment to the army as soon as they return to korea but sungjong isn't supposed to stay here. no. "sungjong," woohyn says, pushing himself to his feet. it probably comes out harsher than he intends it to, because sungjong turns to him.
"you can come with me to the train station. i'm leaving for hiroshima tomorrow. my parents have a friend there," he explains, as if woohyun actually cares. and perhaps woohyun actually does care; maybe he's been caring far more than he should have been for sungjong, in between their rehearsals and before bedtime, when they're both alone together doing mundane things he can't even recall. perhaps sungjong is a lot more perceptive than woohyun has given him credit for.
woohyun opens his mouth. "your socks don't match."
sungjong smiles sadly and leaves woohyun with that before following the sound of dongwoo's voice, because he's promising them all daifukus from the store down the road from their hotel.
but hiroshima isn't a safe place, woohyun thinks quickly, the thoughts tripping over themselves in his head. there was a nuclear bombing. and then: your socks don't match. who is going to tell you when your socks don't match, in hiroshima, in tokyo, in anywhere that is not seoul?
||
it is snowing when they arrive at the train station. sungjong has mufflers over his ears, and woohyun wonders if it's a sign telling him that whatever he wants to tell sungjong, it is a little too late for him to hear.
"it's a cold day," sungjong says, breaking the silence that clouds the both of them.
"you're going to leave for hiroshima and all you can talk about is the weather?"
sungjong turns to face him, before woohyun can rearrange his face into something less betrayed and irrationally hurt. "why don't you talk now, hyung."
that is the problem. he doesn't know what to tell sungjong, what to say or how he even feels about them - whether there really is a 'them'.
"hiroshima isn't a safe place," woohyun says, because it's the truth and because it's the closest thing he can get to asking sungjong to stay.
"the nuclear bombing happened decades ago, hyung." sungjong's tone is pointed but patient, and woohyn notes how much more matured he sounds compared to the loud, excitable boy who had debuted years and years ago. woohyun has been in love with the same person across different a range of different fronts and it's pretty amazing, when he really thinks about it. "ah, the train is here."
woohyun looks up and there it is, sleek and silver. he stands and stuffs his hands into his pockets and sungjong gathers up his belongings.
"your socks," he says, as they both make their way to the train, "they match today." woohyun's voice sounds rough now. you'll do fine without me, woohyun thinks and it hurts.
sungjong nods. the train departs. the snow melts. woohyun decides he will wait: for sungjong, and for the words.
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you've definitely opened my eyes to a pairing i previously haven't taken notice of.
(and thanks for the brutal realisation none of the group have enlisted for their compulsory military duty yet. D:)
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