Suggest a pairing (gen is fine too) & prompt and I'll do my best to write you something short. All comments are screened (until filled, of course), and I make no promises. ♥
What are you going to do now? Sehun's mother asks every time she calls. Finish college? Find a job? What do you want?
wat r u doing? Jongin texts him occasionally , at 2AM when he's out drinking with friends and Sehun is pointedly ignoring his slurred voicemails telling Sehun to join them. get off ur ass n stop dickin around
The best thing about S.M.'s legacy, Lee Soo-man had said when he spoke to them last as a group, is that it'll always open doors to opportunities.
Sehun has opportunities. Chanyeol and Sehun did a very successful photoshoot for the Hundreds last season and Sehun still has business cards from three different modeling agencies somewhere in his wallet. Jongin offers to look into his connections. Junmyeon always leaves messages about casting calls for minor drama roles in Sehun's build. Kyungsoo sends half-hearted emails with names of people who want dance instructors for the children they're trying to breed into SM trainees. Sehun types out what if im stuck over and over again and deletes it every time. But Sehun has time. He's still young. "I'm old," Lu Han says as way of reassurance. "I'm twenty-nine. I should be --"
Married. Settled. Moving on. No time to get stuck, no time to wallow. Time only to hit the ground running, cut himself off. Sehun fantasizes he's the one temptation Lu Han allows himself, the one weakness Lu Han couldn't resist. Then he worries that he's the one person Lu Han could go to that didn't mean giving in.
For a while, Lu Han does nothing. Then he spends a month straight interviewing, and finally lands a temporary job translating for a magazine publishing company. "This isn't what I thought I came to Yonsei for," he says as he pours Sehun a shot of soju during the celebratory dinner. Sehun smiles obligatorily -- you came to Seoul to be an idol has festered unspoken so long in the air around Lu Han that by now it's simply disintegrated.
They drink. Lu Han keeps his glass full, spoons him more than his fair share of spicy pork. "Always the hyung," Sehun teases, and Lu Han shushes him, says, "I don't have that many dongsaengs to baby anymore."
Sehun feels this absence like a memory of a bruise, like standing in the wreckage of the house you grew up in and trying to pick out the parts that made up your walls. It feels too immediate and, yet, too distant. Now when they together -- in coffeeshops, in crowded streets where they are still occasionally mobbed by former fans, in supermarkets while they argue over potato chip flavors -- there are two handfuls of wrongness that haunts them: Lu Han who turns constantly as if expecting Tao to steal food from his grocery bags before he has the chance to put them away, or Sehun who still finds himself saying the insults he texts to Jongin out loud first. But Sehun is the one who still warms up by dancing to their old routines. Once, Sehun had paged through Lu Han's iPod and his laptop and didn't turn up a single EXO song.
While they spoon together, half-drunk, on Sehun's narrow bed, Sehun whispers, "Do you miss it?" Then, more quietly, "Who do you miss the most?" If not me?
Lu Han doesn't answer. Sehun thinks he's asleep, but a few minutes later Lu Han slips out of bed, pads out to the living room where they keep a folding cot for his bed. The sound of its metal hinges replay in Sehun's dreams: doors shutting, his leg caught in the teeth of a bear trap, waves of bodies thudding against metal railings, pushing towards them as they dance on stage.
What are you going to do now? Sehun's mother asks every time she calls. Finish college? Find a job? What do you want?
wat r u doing? Jongin texts him occasionally , at 2AM when he's out drinking with friends and Sehun is pointedly ignoring his slurred voicemails telling Sehun to join them. get off ur ass n stop dickin around
The best thing about S.M.'s legacy, Lee Soo-man had said when he spoke to them last as a group, is that it'll always open doors to opportunities.
Sehun has opportunities. Chanyeol and Sehun did a very successful photoshoot for the Hundreds last season and Sehun still has business cards from three different modeling agencies somewhere in his wallet. Jongin offers to look into his connections. Junmyeon always leaves messages about casting calls for minor drama roles in Sehun's build. Kyungsoo sends half-hearted emails with names of people who want dance instructors for the children they're trying to breed into SM trainees. Sehun types out what if im stuck over and over again and deletes it every time. But Sehun has time. He's still young. "I'm old," Lu Han says as way of reassurance. "I'm twenty-nine. I should be --"
Married. Settled. Moving on. No time to get stuck, no time to wallow. Time only to hit the ground running, cut himself off. Sehun fantasizes he's the one temptation Lu Han allows himself, the one weakness Lu Han couldn't resist. Then he worries that he's the one person Lu Han could go to that didn't mean giving in.
For a while, Lu Han does nothing. Then he spends a month straight interviewing, and finally lands a temporary job translating for a magazine publishing company. "This isn't what I thought I came to Yonsei for," he says as he pours Sehun a shot of soju during the celebratory dinner. Sehun smiles obligatorily -- you came to Seoul to be an idol has festered unspoken so long in the air around Lu Han that by now it's simply disintegrated.
They drink. Lu Han keeps his glass full, spoons him more than his fair share of spicy pork. "Always the hyung," Sehun teases, and Lu Han shushes him, says, "I don't have that many dongsaengs to baby anymore."
Sehun feels this absence like a memory of a bruise, like standing in the wreckage of the house you grew up in and trying to pick out the parts that made up your walls. It feels too immediate and, yet, too distant. Now when they together -- in coffeeshops, in crowded streets where they are still occasionally mobbed by former fans, in supermarkets while they argue over potato chip flavors -- there are two handfuls of wrongness that haunts them: Lu Han who turns constantly as if expecting Tao to steal food from his grocery bags before he has the chance to put them away, or Sehun who still finds himself saying the insults he texts to Jongin out loud first. But Sehun is the one who still warms up by dancing to their old routines. Once, Sehun had paged through Lu Han's iPod and his laptop and didn't turn up a single EXO song.
While they spoon together, half-drunk, on Sehun's narrow bed, Sehun whispers, "Do you miss it?" Then, more quietly, "Who do you miss the most?" If not me?
Lu Han doesn't answer. Sehun thinks he's asleep, but a few minutes later Lu Han slips out of bed, pads out to the living room where they keep a folding cot for his bed. The sound of its metal hinges replay in Sehun's dreams: doors shutting, his leg caught in the teeth of a bear trap, waves of bodies thudding against metal railings, pushing towards them as they dance on stage.
Reply
Leave a comment