Round 8: Needs
Title: Needs
Team: Future
Rating: R
Fandom: 2PM
Pairing: Junho/Nichkhun, Chansung/Nichkhun
Summary: Nichkhun needs a lot of things, but he doesn’t know what he actually needs and only some people can actually gave it to him.
Author's Note: amidst exam reviews and research papers a fanfiction was born … with help from my lovely friend Natalie <3
Prompt Used: Ga-In - Irreversible
2 years after their “I’ll Be Back” promotions in Japan, the group thousands of fan girls knew as 2PM became no more. Junsu decided to pursue a solo career, Wooyoung decided to just work on choreography, Taecyeon decided to go back to America and work for a modeling company. Junho disappeared somewhere. Chansung was lost and dependent on alcohol. Nichkhun had a great life.
Had.
Right after the break up, Nichkhun decided to elope with Victoria, hidden from the world, keeping it quiet, it was glorious at first. The giggles, the secret touches, the conversations full of nothing into the dark hours of the night. But after a year the stress overwhelmed Victoria. There wasn’t a day Nichkhun could remember easily that they didn’t argue. If SM entertainment had found out it would be Victoria’s head, so they decided to silently settle a separation out of court and parted ways.
After 5 years of always being around someone, after always having a shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk to, loneliness took a major toll on Nichkhun’s life. He ate alone, slept alone, drove alone, drank alone, his life grew quiet. Fan girls grew up, new groups debuted, and after a while people fell out of love. It was bound to happen one day or another. There were instances when people did recognize him, squealing and jumping around, asking for his autograph. Those instances, as days went by, became scarcer and scarcer. Truthfully, without his members, he was just another person. His idol status faded, it was harder to recognize him in a crowd of people without five other distinguished men surrounding him.
Withdrawal. Nichkhun suffered from attention withdrawal. He yearned for attention it was his drug, his addiction. Nichkhun became needy; he was desperate.
The only person Nichkhun still kept in touch with was Wooyoung, but he always seemed to be busy and Nichkhun didn’t want to bother him.
One day he received an unexpected text.
wooyum: what are you doing tonight?
Nichkhun stared at the screen in disbelief; his phone hasn’t beeped in ages. After a couple of minutes, he decided that he looked at the unchanging screen for long enough.
thaiboy: nothing y?
wooyum: Im on vacation lets go clubbing
thaiboy: idk
wooyum: do it come on and lol ur still using thaiboy?
thaiboy: says the person whos still using wooYUM,
wooyum: touche - whatevs b ready @ 9pm
Nichkhun didn’t answer back, he figured he leave it to Wooyoung to choose whether or not to come. Truthfully he wasn’t expecting him to come. But alas, at 9:00 PM his doorbell rang.
Nichkhun slowly made his way towards the door in his sweatpants and wife beater; he opened the door to a disappointed Wooyoung.
“Why aren’t you ready?” Wooyoung snarled when he sees Nichkhun still in his sweats.
“Honestly, I didn’t think you would come.”
“Why though?”
“Because I didn’t answer your text.”
“It wasn’t a question I asked, I specifically said be ready at 9PM,” Wooyoung retaliated, “It’s now 9:03 and you’re not ready.”
Nichkhun stayed silent, and Wooyoung let himself in sighing dramatically, “Let’s go, it’s been a while since you’ve worn eyeliner.”
- - -
“Are you sure it’s ok? Won’t people recognize us?” Nichkhun worried as he slid into the front seat of Wooyoung’s black convertible mustang.
“Who cares anymore?” Wooyoung shrugged it off as he revved the engine.
- - -
The lights flashed and the music was blaring. Nichkhun looked around as Wooyoung went to go get drinks, people were everywhere. It was clear no one was going to pick them out in a crowd here. Girls who were linked arm in arm never looked back as they barely knocked Nichkhun over as they tried to weave their way through mass of clubbers. He spotted Wooyoung dodging his way through the multitude of sweaty bodies with two beers in his hands.
“Here.” Wooyoung shoved a bottle of beer in his face.
Nichkhun took it. He didn’t really feel like drinking. But it did help him forget, that’s all he wanted. He stared at the bottle before he lifted it up to his lips; it slowly burned as he swallowed it.
“You look hott, don’t worry, lightened up you seem so tense.”
Nichkhun grunted as he took another sip of his beer.
“Really, relax,” Wooyoung brought his mouth up to Nichkhun’s ear so he could be heard over the noise in the club, “Remember the stories the fans use to write? You know the ones about us?”
Nichkhun recalled them vividly, the vast amount of stories that were written about him and Wooyoung, and he nodded.
“If I actually was gay, I’d say we leave the club and make those reality, you look sexy, Khun,” Wooyoung nodded towards the girl that was quickly approaching, “go get ’em tiger.”
Nichkhun smiled for the first time in a while.
“Dance with me?” the girl barely clad in any form of an outfit held out her hand. She was drunk. Nichkhun was getting there. Wooyoung nudged him away. Agreeing, he let her lead him towards the dance floor. For the first few minutes he knew he was still dancing with that girl but as the night progressed he lost track of how many people he danced with. Nichkhun didn’t care whose body that his was dancing on. He let his mind wander; he let his body just flow to the sensual beats. Beads of sweat covered his body as he shamelessly grinded among the crowd, on every body that touched his. A faint smell of familiarity overtook his senses. Nichkhun opened his eyes in confusion, and searched around for the source. Then he saw him; the tall, model-like, presence was still there. He made his way over.
“Chansung?” Nichkhun had to yell above the crowd. The man turned around, his white button up was partially unbuttoned and it was sticking to his sweaty body, his dark hair was matted around his face, and he started dancing with Nichkhun. Nichkhun let himself move in harmony with Chansung’s body, just like old times.
“Chansung where have you been?”
Without looking at him Chansung answered, “around.”
“I missed you.” Nichkhun confessed as he continued to dance. No more words were exchanged. He leaned into Chansung’s body the warm musky smell filled his nostrils and he let himself once again be taken by the music.
“Let’s go.” Nichkhun heard Chansung as he leaned over to whisper in his ear, Nichkhun smiled and grabbed Chansung’s shirt as he followed him out in to the cool night.
Just as soon as Nichkhun stepped out into the night, Chansung waved down a taxi, quietly both got in and Chansung mumbled some address to the driver, Nichkhun had no idea what he said, his mind was still groggy from the drinks he had had.
“I missed you.” Nichkhun slurred as he shifted into Chansung’s arms as they rode in the dark of the night.
Chansung stayed silent.
Nichkhun didn’t mind, he was use to quiet, just as long as he had someone to hold him again.
- - -
Chansung lived in a condo, sleekly furnished in black and white. Everything fit into it’s place. Nichkhun wandered around the large apartment, he noticed that there were no photographs, the trophies that they split between themselves after the split weren’t on display, it was just white on black, or black on white. Nichkhun followed behind Chansung, watching him as he took a seat on the couch and put his legs up on the glass coffee table.
“So, it’s a nice place you have,” Nichkhun wanted to break through the awkward atmosphere.
“Yeah,” Chansung dismissed Nichkhun’s compliment.
“How have you been?”
“Fine,” Chansung picked up a glass he had had already had pre-arranged on the table and poured vodka into it.
“That’s good.” Nichkhun fell silent again, watching Chansung chug the vodka down, he started biting his lip.
Silence fell upon the two men again, Chansung kept on downing vodka, and Nichkhun just stood in the middle of the living room biting his lip. It was all so surreal, Nichkhun never thought he would see Chansung again, and now that he did he had no idea what to do or say.
“Take off your pants.” Chansung demanded in a low growl, shattering the silence, as he took another shot of vodka.
“What?” Nichkhun, taken aback, he looked at him in bewilderment with wide eyes.
“It’s obvious you need something, and I have what you want. It’s not that hard to tell that you’re gay, or bi, I don’t know how you did it with Victoria. I’ve known you were gay for a while now. Play it off as you will, but I don’t repeat myself.”
The memories smacked Nichkhun in the face, and he stared into Chansung’s eyes looking for a hint, a sign; anything that would tell himself that Chansung was joking. But there was nothing. They say eyes are the path to one’s soul, well, Chansung’s dark eyes just led to a darker soul.
“What happened to you?”
“I could ask the same about you. Now are the pants coming off or are you leaving?”
Nichkhun was startle by the bluntness that Chansung inhibited, but powered by some outer force Nichkhun brought his hands up to the zipper of the dark jeans Wooyoung threw at him in the beginning of the night. He didn’t know what pushed him to do it, but soon after his pale and milky body was on display for the cold, hard gaze of the man sitting before him, he wanted it, really badly.
It’s obvious you need something, and I have want you want.
The words ran repeatedly through Nichkhun’s head, Chansung was right, he needed to feel, he needed something, he needed to rid himself of the sense of loneliness, and right now Chansung could help him. Chansung did have what he wanted.
Chansung was stroking his rigid member when Nichkhun looked up again. His face felt flushed, it was all happening so spontaneously and quickly. The next thing Nichkhun knew, is that he was on his knees with Chansung’s cock slamming down his throat, then it was replaced by his fingers, after a vague warning about not having any lube.
Nichkhun ravenously sucked on Chansung’s fingers and whimpered when they disappeared. He felt fingers snake down his body, gasping when he felt a finger ghost over his hole. Through moans and whimpers, Chansung prepared Nichkhun until Nichkhun couldn’t stand it anymore, “Chan-, please, I need you.”
The night continued, moans echoed through the apartment, Chansung’s grunts and Nichkhun’s whimpers filled the night.
“More,” Nichkhun begged, “please, let me feel you.”
Chansung smirked and thrusted himself into Nichkhun, gripping the Thai man’s hips he held him there as he made his release.
Afterwards there is no love, no gentle kisses. Chansung grabbed Nichkhun’s length in one hand and pumped it quickly until a white stream landed on his stomach.
Chansung rose and went into the kitchen, leaving Nichkhun’s bare body open to the cool air of the air conditioner. He reached over and grabbed the throw blanket Chansung left on the couch, and wrapped it around himself.
The next few days passed by quickly. Ask Nichkhun to remember and he wouldn’t be able to. All he could tell you is that Chansung loves him. But what is love to Nichkhun? Ask Nichkhun what love was to him, and all he would say is Chansung. He revels in Chansung’s attention, Chansung gives him what he needs; he gives him the touches, the feeling.
But soon enough Nichkhun gets smarter, he needs something more, he needs a confession, a promise, something that will tell him it’s forever.
“Chansung, say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say that you love me.”
Silence.
“Just say it, promise me forever.”
More silence.
Nichkhun took the silence as a yes, but he wasn’t going to be truly satisfied until Chansung said and meant those three small words.
- - -
Days have gone by and Wooyoung became more and more worried. He didn’t know where Nichkhun would disappear to everyday, but he needed to find out.
“Where are you going?” Wooyoung stopped Nichkhun at the front door.
“Out.”
“Where?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I’m worried about you, you seem distant.”
“How is that any different?”
“It’s more than usual, I don’t know how to explain it, but something’s different, as your best friend I command you to tell me what’s going on.”
“I found Chansung,” Nichkhun reached to turn the knob of the door, but was blocked by Wooyoung.
“What?”
“I found Chansung,” Nichkhun made sure he enunciated each word clearly so Wooyoung could understand.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know you were in charge of my life.” Nichkhun threw Wooyoung off and stormed out of the door.
Nichkhun needed some air; he needed a lot of things. Fuming, he didn’t head to Chansung’s apartment that day; instead he decided to just walk aimlessly around the park. Amidst the laughing children, the barking dogs, the bicyclists, businessmen on their cell phones, he came by a small lake, not many people were there, he took a seat on the green and pulled his knees to his chest. As he sat there wallowing in his own misery a familiar voice rang clear through his head. Nichkhun looked around and he found what he was searching for.
“Junho,” a rare smile painted Nichkhun’s face, but something was wrong. Junho stumbled over a patch of grass and timidly looked around, “Junho?”
“Who’s asking?”
Pain struck Nichkhun’s already splintered heart, he quickly got up and walked towards the man, “Junho, it’s me. Don’t you remember?”
Hands came out of nowhere and gripped onto Nichkhun’s shoulders, they slowly travelled to his face.
“J-Junho? Are you okay?”
“Are you Nichkhun?” Junho’s tone was laced with confusion, his hands lingered on Nichkhun’s face.
Nichkhun felt tears come to his eyes, but he wouldn’t let himself cry, he now realized, bringing his hand to cover Junho’s, “it’s me Jun,” he managed to choke.
And there it was, the smile, the smile that he hasn’t seen in at least seven years, “Khun!” Junho pulled Nichkhun into a tight hug.
“Junho what happened?” Nichkhun buried his face into the crook of Junho’s shoulder.
“I was in an accident, I travelled to America with Taecyeon after the accident, I stayed with him for a few months and then went on my own. It was a drunk driver, I was in the passenger seat and the glass … well … yeah.”
The tears fought to come out, Junho, his Junho was hurt, he couldn’t see and all because of some idiot. Nichkhun held Junho in his arms trying to hold the embrace as long as he could.
“Is it permanent?”
“As far as I know, it’s for forever.”
Forever. What did it even mean anymore?
Junho and Nichkhun stayed in that park until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. They talked about everything, Nichkhun’s marriage, Junho’s adventures in America before the accident. Then it came to the unavoidable topic of Nichkhun’s escapades with Chansung, all of which angered Junho greatly.
“It’s getting late, you should come to my place.” Nichkhun took Junho by the hand, only for that hand to be jerked away.
“I can do it myself.”
They found a taxi and Nichkhun gave it the address to his apartment. When they arrived, Nichkhun made tea and they both sat down together on Nichkhun’s bed. They talk again for hours, this time Junho asked about the members Nichkhun stayed in touch with, which of course, brought the topic of Chansung up again.
“He loves me.”
“Has he said it?”
“No.”
Junho gave Nichkhun his mug of tea, who set both mugs down on his end table. The sheets rustled as Junho moved closer to Nichkhun and rested his head on the milky chest covered with a simple wifebeater.
“Then he doesn’t.”
Nichkhun opened his mouth to answer but he felt Junho’s breath steady, he looked almost angelic in his state of sleep, gazing at the sleeping man Nichkhun noticed the small scars around Junho’s face and neck, they disappeared under t-shirt, but Nichkhun figured that there were worse scars underneath the smiles. With his forefinger, Nichkhun slowly and softly traced over the pinkish scars, burning each into his memory. He didn’t know when he fell to sleep that night; the sunlight pouring into the room woke him up the next morning. Junho was still sleeping on his chest, he tried to shift around without waking the other, but with one small move Junho started rustling around and his eyes opened.
“Morning.” Nichkhun grinned.
“Morning.” Junho replied back as he blindly sought for Nichkhun’s hand, “so what are we doing today?”
“I don’t know, I’m going to go over to Chansung’s though.”
With those words, a frown came to Junho’s face as he pushed himself away from Nichkhun, “wait, why?”
Nichkhun never knew the reason why, it just was. He stood up and started to take off his wife beater to change.
“Look at me,” Junho searches for Nichkhun’s hands, “feel me. Am I real?”
“Yes,” Nichkhun let his hand be found.
Junho took it and led it to his heart, “Can you feel this?”
“Yes,” Nichkhun manages to choke out.
“What more do you need? You do feel. Stop lying to yourself.”
Nichkhun stayed silent, he wanted to pull his hand away but Junho’s grip was tight.
“I love you. This is what love is. Not Chansung.”
Now Nichkhun withdraws his hand in defiance, shouting, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Chansung loves me, I don’t care what you or Wooyoung says. He loves me.” Nichkhun fell to his knees in a whisper, repeating, “he loves me, he love me.” Tears streaked his face.
“He’s never said those words.” Junho spat.
“I don’t care.”
“Yes you do, I might be blind but I see it all crystal clear, you want love. But what Chansung gives you is not love. I can give you love, I don’t care if I can’t see you, I have seen you Nichkhun, in all your glory and happiness. Don’t let that memory of you die Khun. I wasn’t to see the Khun I knew seven years ago.”
“He does, I’ll prove it.” Nichkhun pulled on the first t-shirt he could find and the first pair of jeans that was clean and stormed out the door.
- - -
Wooyoung knew that there needed to be an intervention. He decided that he needed to go and find the root of the problem. He found Chansung’s address scrawled on some crumpled notebook paper Nichkhun had thrown into the trash can but missed. He knocked on the balck front door of said address, lo and behold, Chansung was the one that answered it.
Wooyoung spared no formalities, nor manners, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“What’s wrong with you? How can you do this to Nichkhun? He already blames himself for everything. You know that right? He blames everything on himself including our breakup.”
“And…”
“You’re leading him on like a lost puppy. His mind is lost in your fucking little love illusion game.”
“It’s not my problem that he doesn’t leave. It’s not like I’m forcing him to do this, he chooses to.”
Wooyoung was ready to punch Chansung in the face, “That’s because you fucking brainwashed him. You know Nichkhun.”
“I don’t know anyone.” Chansung spat back, “everyone is dead to me. Ever since the name 2PM disappeared we died, don’t’ you understand? People loved us only because we were performing, when we’re not performing we are nothing.”
Wooyoung stepped back and let Chansung continue.
“We’re dead to the world now, no one cares anymore. It’s only soon until we actually die and leave the planet. We had our fame, nothing matters anymore.”
“We should still matter, Nichkhun, Junsu, Taecyeon, Junho, me, even Jay. Is that all we ever were to you? I know we don’t talk as much now but we were basically brothers. And do not try to tell me otherwise Hwang Chansung. Grow up and open your eyes.”
“I’m not your brother.”
“You’re not, you were my brother.
- - -
Nichkhun need restitution, he needed to settle this once and for all, he needed for Chansung to say those three words.
“Do you love me?” Nichkhun let himself into Chansung’s apartment.
“What?” A surprised Chansung answered back. Nichkhun saw that his shirt was buttoned unevenly, and his socks were mismatched.
“Do you love me?”
“I don’t think now is the time for that.” Chansung said darkly under his breath as he pointed to a girl, clad in one of Chansung’s button up shirt, and a face that had “i-just-fucked-a-sex-god” written all over.
“Just answer the goddamned question.”
“Love?” Chansung scoffed, “what the hell are you going on about?”
“Love, I mean actual love, the one where you don’t need to fuck the other person. Not the one where it’s only one sided. Strike that, it wasn’t even love. It was need.”
“I think you figured out that one for yourself.”
“You’ve never even said my name.” Nichkhun managed to choke out, the realization hit him with the force of a speeding bus, and “You’ve never even acknowledged me properly. What am I to you?”
“An ass to fuck. I’m not going to lie to you.”
Tears stung Nichkhun’s eyes, “You’re not going to lie to me?”
“I never have.”
“You led me on, you loved me.”
“You thought I loved you, but I don’t recall ever saying those exact words.”
“Then you led me on.”
“You practically leapt into my lap,” Chansung snorted.
“I was stupid, I didn’t know how to feel, but you helped me to feel, so thank you for that.”
“You’re thanking me? You’re one weird human being.”
“I guess I am, you never showed compassion, but I still stayed with you, thinking I could change you but I was dead wrong. I was your bitch, and I didn’t even know it.”
“You’re finally figuring this out? I thought I was the stupid one.”
“It’s done Chansung.”
Without any remorse Chansung answered in return, “The door’s right behind you.”
“You don’t even care?” Nichkhun was taken back in shock, “Do you even feel? What kind of sad pathetic human being are you?”
“I could ask the same about you, you used me to help you feel, shouldn’t I be saying these things about you? I was fine without you, you came into my life, you’re the intruder. I just played along. Don’t blame anything on me.”
Nichkhun knew that there was some truths in Chansung’s words, he hated admitting that to himself, but ever since Junho came back into his life he knew how to feel.
- - -
Love was making fun of cheesy romantic novels, it was staying up until the dark hours of the night talking about nothing and laughing about everything. Love was the obscure touches, the small gestures. It was about the warmth you felt when you were with the other person. It wasn’t the pleasure you felt when someone was thrusting inside you. It was the light kisses and caresses, the ticklish sides, and the traces of the other person’s smell left on the pillow.
- - -
“Junho?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you. Stay with me.”
“I love you too.” Junho caressed Nichkhun’s bare stomach in butterfly kisses.
“Is that a yes.”
“If that’s all you need to make you happy, then yes.”
Poll Round 8: Needs
Team: Future
Rating: R
Fandom: 2PM
Pairing: Junho/Nichkhun, Chansung/Nichkhun
Summary: Nichkhun needs a lot of things, but he doesn’t know what he actually needs and only some people can actually gave it to him.
Author's Note: amidst exam reviews and research papers a fanfiction was born … with help from my lovely friend Natalie <3
Prompt Used: Ga-In - Irreversible
2 years after their “I’ll Be Back” promotions in Japan, the group thousands of fan girls knew as 2PM became no more. Junsu decided to pursue a solo career, Wooyoung decided to just work on choreography, Taecyeon decided to go back to America and work for a modeling company. Junho disappeared somewhere. Chansung was lost and dependent on alcohol. Nichkhun had a great life.
Had.
Right after the break up, Nichkhun decided to elope with Victoria, hidden from the world, keeping it quiet, it was glorious at first. The giggles, the secret touches, the conversations full of nothing into the dark hours of the night. But after a year the stress overwhelmed Victoria. There wasn’t a day Nichkhun could remember easily that they didn’t argue. If SM entertainment had found out it would be Victoria’s head, so they decided to silently settle a separation out of court and parted ways.
After 5 years of always being around someone, after always having a shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk to, loneliness took a major toll on Nichkhun’s life. He ate alone, slept alone, drove alone, drank alone, his life grew quiet. Fan girls grew up, new groups debuted, and after a while people fell out of love. It was bound to happen one day or another. There were instances when people did recognize him, squealing and jumping around, asking for his autograph. Those instances, as days went by, became scarcer and scarcer. Truthfully, without his members, he was just another person. His idol status faded, it was harder to recognize him in a crowd of people without five other distinguished men surrounding him.
Withdrawal. Nichkhun suffered from attention withdrawal. He yearned for attention it was his drug, his addiction. Nichkhun became needy; he was desperate.
The only person Nichkhun still kept in touch with was Wooyoung, but he always seemed to be busy and Nichkhun didn’t want to bother him.
One day he received an unexpected text.
wooyum: what are you doing tonight?
Nichkhun stared at the screen in disbelief; his phone hasn’t beeped in ages. After a couple of minutes, he decided that he looked at the unchanging screen for long enough.
thaiboy: nothing y?
wooyum: Im on vacation lets go clubbing
thaiboy: idk
wooyum: do it come on and lol ur still using thaiboy?
thaiboy: says the person whos still using wooYUM,
wooyum: touche - whatevs b ready @ 9pm
Nichkhun didn’t answer back, he figured he leave it to Wooyoung to choose whether or not to come. Truthfully he wasn’t expecting him to come. But alas, at 9:00 PM his doorbell rang.
Nichkhun slowly made his way towards the door in his sweatpants and wife beater; he opened the door to a disappointed Wooyoung.
“Why aren’t you ready?” Wooyoung snarled when he sees Nichkhun still in his sweats.
“Honestly, I didn’t think you would come.”
“Why though?”
“Because I didn’t answer your text.”
“It wasn’t a question I asked, I specifically said be ready at 9PM,” Wooyoung retaliated, “It’s now 9:03 and you’re not ready.”
Nichkhun stayed silent, and Wooyoung let himself in sighing dramatically, “Let’s go, it’s been a while since you’ve worn eyeliner.”
- - -
“Are you sure it’s ok? Won’t people recognize us?” Nichkhun worried as he slid into the front seat of Wooyoung’s black convertible mustang.
“Who cares anymore?” Wooyoung shrugged it off as he revved the engine.
- - -
The lights flashed and the music was blaring. Nichkhun looked around as Wooyoung went to go get drinks, people were everywhere. It was clear no one was going to pick them out in a crowd here. Girls who were linked arm in arm never looked back as they barely knocked Nichkhun over as they tried to weave their way through mass of clubbers. He spotted Wooyoung dodging his way through the multitude of sweaty bodies with two beers in his hands.
“Here.” Wooyoung shoved a bottle of beer in his face.
Nichkhun took it. He didn’t really feel like drinking. But it did help him forget, that’s all he wanted. He stared at the bottle before he lifted it up to his lips; it slowly burned as he swallowed it.
“You look hott, don’t worry, lightened up you seem so tense.”
Nichkhun grunted as he took another sip of his beer.
“Really, relax,” Wooyoung brought his mouth up to Nichkhun’s ear so he could be heard over the noise in the club, “Remember the stories the fans use to write? You know the ones about us?”
Nichkhun recalled them vividly, the vast amount of stories that were written about him and Wooyoung, and he nodded.
“If I actually was gay, I’d say we leave the club and make those reality, you look sexy, Khun,” Wooyoung nodded towards the girl that was quickly approaching, “go get ’em tiger.”
Nichkhun smiled for the first time in a while.
“Dance with me?” the girl barely clad in any form of an outfit held out her hand. She was drunk. Nichkhun was getting there. Wooyoung nudged him away. Agreeing, he let her lead him towards the dance floor. For the first few minutes he knew he was still dancing with that girl but as the night progressed he lost track of how many people he danced with. Nichkhun didn’t care whose body that his was dancing on. He let his mind wander; he let his body just flow to the sensual beats. Beads of sweat covered his body as he shamelessly grinded among the crowd, on every body that touched his. A faint smell of familiarity overtook his senses. Nichkhun opened his eyes in confusion, and searched around for the source. Then he saw him; the tall, model-like, presence was still there. He made his way over.
“Chansung?” Nichkhun had to yell above the crowd. The man turned around, his white button up was partially unbuttoned and it was sticking to his sweaty body, his dark hair was matted around his face, and he started dancing with Nichkhun. Nichkhun let himself move in harmony with Chansung’s body, just like old times.
“Chansung where have you been?”
Without looking at him Chansung answered, “around.”
“I missed you.” Nichkhun confessed as he continued to dance. No more words were exchanged. He leaned into Chansung’s body the warm musky smell filled his nostrils and he let himself once again be taken by the music.
“Let’s go.” Nichkhun heard Chansung as he leaned over to whisper in his ear, Nichkhun smiled and grabbed Chansung’s shirt as he followed him out in to the cool night.
Just as soon as Nichkhun stepped out into the night, Chansung waved down a taxi, quietly both got in and Chansung mumbled some address to the driver, Nichkhun had no idea what he said, his mind was still groggy from the drinks he had had.
“I missed you.” Nichkhun slurred as he shifted into Chansung’s arms as they rode in the dark of the night.
Chansung stayed silent.
Nichkhun didn’t mind, he was use to quiet, just as long as he had someone to hold him again.
- - -
Chansung lived in a condo, sleekly furnished in black and white. Everything fit into it’s place. Nichkhun wandered around the large apartment, he noticed that there were no photographs, the trophies that they split between themselves after the split weren’t on display, it was just white on black, or black on white. Nichkhun followed behind Chansung, watching him as he took a seat on the couch and put his legs up on the glass coffee table.
“So, it’s a nice place you have,” Nichkhun wanted to break through the awkward atmosphere.
“Yeah,” Chansung dismissed Nichkhun’s compliment.
“How have you been?”
“Fine,” Chansung picked up a glass he had had already had pre-arranged on the table and poured vodka into it.
“That’s good.” Nichkhun fell silent again, watching Chansung chug the vodka down, he started biting his lip.
Silence fell upon the two men again, Chansung kept on downing vodka, and Nichkhun just stood in the middle of the living room biting his lip. It was all so surreal, Nichkhun never thought he would see Chansung again, and now that he did he had no idea what to do or say.
“Take off your pants.” Chansung demanded in a low growl, shattering the silence, as he took another shot of vodka.
“What?” Nichkhun, taken aback, he looked at him in bewilderment with wide eyes.
“It’s obvious you need something, and I have what you want. It’s not that hard to tell that you’re gay, or bi, I don’t know how you did it with Victoria. I’ve known you were gay for a while now. Play it off as you will, but I don’t repeat myself.”
The memories smacked Nichkhun in the face, and he stared into Chansung’s eyes looking for a hint, a sign; anything that would tell himself that Chansung was joking. But there was nothing. They say eyes are the path to one’s soul, well, Chansung’s dark eyes just led to a darker soul.
“What happened to you?”
“I could ask the same about you. Now are the pants coming off or are you leaving?”
Nichkhun was startle by the bluntness that Chansung inhibited, but powered by some outer force Nichkhun brought his hands up to the zipper of the dark jeans Wooyoung threw at him in the beginning of the night. He didn’t know what pushed him to do it, but soon after his pale and milky body was on display for the cold, hard gaze of the man sitting before him, he wanted it, really badly.
It’s obvious you need something, and I have want you want.
The words ran repeatedly through Nichkhun’s head, Chansung was right, he needed to feel, he needed something, he needed to rid himself of the sense of loneliness, and right now Chansung could help him. Chansung did have what he wanted.
Chansung was stroking his rigid member when Nichkhun looked up again. His face felt flushed, it was all happening so spontaneously and quickly. The next thing Nichkhun knew, is that he was on his knees with Chansung’s cock slamming down his throat, then it was replaced by his fingers, after a vague warning about not having any lube.
Nichkhun ravenously sucked on Chansung’s fingers and whimpered when they disappeared. He felt fingers snake down his body, gasping when he felt a finger ghost over his hole. Through moans and whimpers, Chansung prepared Nichkhun until Nichkhun couldn’t stand it anymore, “Chan-, please, I need you.”
The night continued, moans echoed through the apartment, Chansung’s grunts and Nichkhun’s whimpers filled the night.
“More,” Nichkhun begged, “please, let me feel you.”
Chansung smirked and thrusted himself into Nichkhun, gripping the Thai man’s hips he held him there as he made his release.
Afterwards there is no love, no gentle kisses. Chansung grabbed Nichkhun’s length in one hand and pumped it quickly until a white stream landed on his stomach.
Chansung rose and went into the kitchen, leaving Nichkhun’s bare body open to the cool air of the air conditioner. He reached over and grabbed the throw blanket Chansung left on the couch, and wrapped it around himself.
The next few days passed by quickly. Ask Nichkhun to remember and he wouldn’t be able to. All he could tell you is that Chansung loves him. But what is love to Nichkhun? Ask Nichkhun what love was to him, and all he would say is Chansung. He revels in Chansung’s attention, Chansung gives him what he needs; he gives him the touches, the feeling.
But soon enough Nichkhun gets smarter, he needs something more, he needs a confession, a promise, something that will tell him it’s forever.
“Chansung, say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say that you love me.”
Silence.
“Just say it, promise me forever.”
More silence.
Nichkhun took the silence as a yes, but he wasn’t going to be truly satisfied until Chansung said and meant those three small words.
- - -
Days have gone by and Wooyoung became more and more worried. He didn’t know where Nichkhun would disappear to everyday, but he needed to find out.
“Where are you going?” Wooyoung stopped Nichkhun at the front door.
“Out.”
“Where?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I’m worried about you, you seem distant.”
“How is that any different?”
“It’s more than usual, I don’t know how to explain it, but something’s different, as your best friend I command you to tell me what’s going on.”
“I found Chansung,” Nichkhun reached to turn the knob of the door, but was blocked by Wooyoung.
“What?”
“I found Chansung,” Nichkhun made sure he enunciated each word clearly so Wooyoung could understand.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know you were in charge of my life.” Nichkhun threw Wooyoung off and stormed out of the door.
Nichkhun needed some air; he needed a lot of things. Fuming, he didn’t head to Chansung’s apartment that day; instead he decided to just walk aimlessly around the park. Amidst the laughing children, the barking dogs, the bicyclists, businessmen on their cell phones, he came by a small lake, not many people were there, he took a seat on the green and pulled his knees to his chest. As he sat there wallowing in his own misery a familiar voice rang clear through his head. Nichkhun looked around and he found what he was searching for.
“Junho,” a rare smile painted Nichkhun’s face, but something was wrong. Junho stumbled over a patch of grass and timidly looked around, “Junho?”
“Who’s asking?”
Pain struck Nichkhun’s already splintered heart, he quickly got up and walked towards the man, “Junho, it’s me. Don’t you remember?”
Hands came out of nowhere and gripped onto Nichkhun’s shoulders, they slowly travelled to his face.
“J-Junho? Are you okay?”
“Are you Nichkhun?” Junho’s tone was laced with confusion, his hands lingered on Nichkhun’s face.
Nichkhun felt tears come to his eyes, but he wouldn’t let himself cry, he now realized, bringing his hand to cover Junho’s, “it’s me Jun,” he managed to choke.
And there it was, the smile, the smile that he hasn’t seen in at least seven years, “Khun!” Junho pulled Nichkhun into a tight hug.
“Junho what happened?” Nichkhun buried his face into the crook of Junho’s shoulder.
“I was in an accident, I travelled to America with Taecyeon after the accident, I stayed with him for a few months and then went on my own. It was a drunk driver, I was in the passenger seat and the glass … well … yeah.”
The tears fought to come out, Junho, his Junho was hurt, he couldn’t see and all because of some idiot. Nichkhun held Junho in his arms trying to hold the embrace as long as he could.
“Is it permanent?”
“As far as I know, it’s for forever.”
Forever. What did it even mean anymore?
Junho and Nichkhun stayed in that park until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. They talked about everything, Nichkhun’s marriage, Junho’s adventures in America before the accident. Then it came to the unavoidable topic of Nichkhun’s escapades with Chansung, all of which angered Junho greatly.
“It’s getting late, you should come to my place.” Nichkhun took Junho by the hand, only for that hand to be jerked away.
“I can do it myself.”
They found a taxi and Nichkhun gave it the address to his apartment. When they arrived, Nichkhun made tea and they both sat down together on Nichkhun’s bed. They talk again for hours, this time Junho asked about the members Nichkhun stayed in touch with, which of course, brought the topic of Chansung up again.
“He loves me.”
“Has he said it?”
“No.”
Junho gave Nichkhun his mug of tea, who set both mugs down on his end table. The sheets rustled as Junho moved closer to Nichkhun and rested his head on the milky chest covered with a simple wifebeater.
“Then he doesn’t.”
Nichkhun opened his mouth to answer but he felt Junho’s breath steady, he looked almost angelic in his state of sleep, gazing at the sleeping man Nichkhun noticed the small scars around Junho’s face and neck, they disappeared under t-shirt, but Nichkhun figured that there were worse scars underneath the smiles. With his forefinger, Nichkhun slowly and softly traced over the pinkish scars, burning each into his memory. He didn’t know when he fell to sleep that night; the sunlight pouring into the room woke him up the next morning. Junho was still sleeping on his chest, he tried to shift around without waking the other, but with one small move Junho started rustling around and his eyes opened.
“Morning.” Nichkhun grinned.
“Morning.” Junho replied back as he blindly sought for Nichkhun’s hand, “so what are we doing today?”
“I don’t know, I’m going to go over to Chansung’s though.”
With those words, a frown came to Junho’s face as he pushed himself away from Nichkhun, “wait, why?”
Nichkhun never knew the reason why, it just was. He stood up and started to take off his wife beater to change.
“Look at me,” Junho searches for Nichkhun’s hands, “feel me. Am I real?”
“Yes,” Nichkhun let his hand be found.
Junho took it and led it to his heart, “Can you feel this?”
“Yes,” Nichkhun manages to choke out.
“What more do you need? You do feel. Stop lying to yourself.”
Nichkhun stayed silent, he wanted to pull his hand away but Junho’s grip was tight.
“I love you. This is what love is. Not Chansung.”
Now Nichkhun withdraws his hand in defiance, shouting, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Chansung loves me, I don’t care what you or Wooyoung says. He loves me.” Nichkhun fell to his knees in a whisper, repeating, “he loves me, he love me.” Tears streaked his face.
“He’s never said those words.” Junho spat.
“I don’t care.”
“Yes you do, I might be blind but I see it all crystal clear, you want love. But what Chansung gives you is not love. I can give you love, I don’t care if I can’t see you, I have seen you Nichkhun, in all your glory and happiness. Don’t let that memory of you die Khun. I wasn’t to see the Khun I knew seven years ago.”
“He does, I’ll prove it.” Nichkhun pulled on the first t-shirt he could find and the first pair of jeans that was clean and stormed out the door.
- - -
Wooyoung knew that there needed to be an intervention. He decided that he needed to go and find the root of the problem. He found Chansung’s address scrawled on some crumpled notebook paper Nichkhun had thrown into the trash can but missed. He knocked on the balck front door of said address, lo and behold, Chansung was the one that answered it.
Wooyoung spared no formalities, nor manners, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“What’s wrong with you? How can you do this to Nichkhun? He already blames himself for everything. You know that right? He blames everything on himself including our breakup.”
“And…”
“You’re leading him on like a lost puppy. His mind is lost in your fucking little love illusion game.”
“It’s not my problem that he doesn’t leave. It’s not like I’m forcing him to do this, he chooses to.”
Wooyoung was ready to punch Chansung in the face, “That’s because you fucking brainwashed him. You know Nichkhun.”
“I don’t know anyone.” Chansung spat back, “everyone is dead to me. Ever since the name 2PM disappeared we died, don’t’ you understand? People loved us only because we were performing, when we’re not performing we are nothing.”
Wooyoung stepped back and let Chansung continue.
“We’re dead to the world now, no one cares anymore. It’s only soon until we actually die and leave the planet. We had our fame, nothing matters anymore.”
“We should still matter, Nichkhun, Junsu, Taecyeon, Junho, me, even Jay. Is that all we ever were to you? I know we don’t talk as much now but we were basically brothers. And do not try to tell me otherwise Hwang Chansung. Grow up and open your eyes.”
“I’m not your brother.”
“You’re not, you were my brother.
- - -
Nichkhun need restitution, he needed to settle this once and for all, he needed for Chansung to say those three words.
“Do you love me?” Nichkhun let himself into Chansung’s apartment.
“What?” A surprised Chansung answered back. Nichkhun saw that his shirt was buttoned unevenly, and his socks were mismatched.
“Do you love me?”
“I don’t think now is the time for that.” Chansung said darkly under his breath as he pointed to a girl, clad in one of Chansung’s button up shirt, and a face that had “i-just-fucked-a-sex-god” written all over.
“Just answer the goddamned question.”
“Love?” Chansung scoffed, “what the hell are you going on about?”
“Love, I mean actual love, the one where you don’t need to fuck the other person. Not the one where it’s only one sided. Strike that, it wasn’t even love. It was need.”
“I think you figured out that one for yourself.”
“You’ve never even said my name.” Nichkhun managed to choke out, the realization hit him with the force of a speeding bus, and “You’ve never even acknowledged me properly. What am I to you?”
“An ass to fuck. I’m not going to lie to you.”
Tears stung Nichkhun’s eyes, “You’re not going to lie to me?”
“I never have.”
“You led me on, you loved me.”
“You thought I loved you, but I don’t recall ever saying those exact words.”
“Then you led me on.”
“You practically leapt into my lap,” Chansung snorted.
“I was stupid, I didn’t know how to feel, but you helped me to feel, so thank you for that.”
“You’re thanking me? You’re one weird human being.”
“I guess I am, you never showed compassion, but I still stayed with you, thinking I could change you but I was dead wrong. I was your bitch, and I didn’t even know it.”
“You’re finally figuring this out? I thought I was the stupid one.”
“It’s done Chansung.”
Without any remorse Chansung answered in return, “The door’s right behind you.”
“You don’t even care?” Nichkhun was taken back in shock, “Do you even feel? What kind of sad pathetic human being are you?”
“I could ask the same about you, you used me to help you feel, shouldn’t I be saying these things about you? I was fine without you, you came into my life, you’re the intruder. I just played along. Don’t blame anything on me.”
Nichkhun knew that there was some truths in Chansung’s words, he hated admitting that to himself, but ever since Junho came back into his life he knew how to feel.
- - -
Love was making fun of cheesy romantic novels, it was staying up until the dark hours of the night talking about nothing and laughing about everything. Love was the obscure touches, the small gestures. It was about the warmth you felt when you were with the other person. It wasn’t the pleasure you felt when someone was thrusting inside you. It was the light kisses and caresses, the ticklish sides, and the traces of the other person’s smell left on the pillow.
- - -
“Junho?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you. Stay with me.”
“I love you too.” Junho caressed Nichkhun’s bare stomach in butterfly kisses.
“Is that a yes.”
“If that’s all you need to make you happy, then yes.”
Poll Round 8: Needs