ftisland: what happened to us? (oneshot)
what happened to us?
jonghun/hongki; angst; angst; angst; pg
Hongki and Jonghun get into a fight about Hongki's drinking and neglectfulness, ending up with a drunk and attentive Hongki.
The aftermath of their fight left a dizzying effect on both of them. Hongki stood on the far left side of the living room, his hands slightly shook due to his screaming, and his heartbeat felt like Minhwan's drums at their concerts, beating nonstop. Jonghun on the other hand, had his head buried in his hands, sitting down on their soft lavender velvet couch. He rubbed his face, his fingertips were calloused and too rough on his burning cheeks, but he couldn't show Hongki his crying face. They took a moment, or two, to calm down. They have both been at fault yet not one of them decided to apologize. It all had stirred when Hongki's drinking parties occurred too often, and when Jonghun's nonchalance struck deep into Hongki's chest--which, in his loud voice confirmed that it was the trigger for his drinking. From drinking to the lack of responsibility, both called one another names. Their intimacy forgotten, hate spelled with many colorful words. Some hurt and some just broke one another's heart. Yet, neither one of them decided to be the damn bigger man and apologize.
Hongki glanced back at him, his eyes still shocked and intense with their glare. Jonghun didn't look back, deliberately averting his pupils to stare furiously at his feet. His socked feet ached from the previous pacing and his head pounded, he didn't want to get into another fight. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever. He released a long exhale, and got up. Hongki didn't bother to stop him, he just let him slither into the bedroom and surprisingly, gently shut the door behind him.
Once alone, Hongki's chest felt too tight. His breathing wouldn't go back to normal and his hands kept on shaking. He stared down at his palms, and tried to steady them with sheer willpower first, but then manually by sitting on his hands. But even after five minutes, he couldn't stop shaking. The exhales were long and deep with each incoming inhale. But, that didn't help. He still felt like crying and HIS DAMN HANDS STILL SHOOK INTENSELY.
He decided that leaving would be the best option now-temporarily, of course. He left a note behind, written by the phone with shaky handwriting. "I'm at the boys' place... Please call me when you’ve calmed down..."
He didn't bother loiter around for much long after that. He didn't pack a thing, just took his jacket (it was still cool outside, it being January in Seoul) and left silently.
The cats piled on top of him and the pressure was so good, Jonghun stayed in bed for an extra hour. Unlike his usual self, he felt like sleeping in, letting his limps get too comfortable, ruin an entire week with a deliberant 'Oops, I overslept' incident. Yet, the cats knew their owner too well; they began to claw his hair soon after 6 a.m. He grumbled but got up. The bathroom's floor was cold and the rush of sensation running through his nerves came with the remembrance of last night.
"Oh man," he groaned into the mirror. His eyes were fulgent and his cheeks were puffed. Obviously, he didn't bother with the 'stop crying before bed' rule and let his emotions run wild. He examined his face closely, and chose that he couldn't help it. Either way, he had to get ready and go to rehearsal, whether Hongki was in or not.
He shaved, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and tried his BEST to look human again. The puffiness lessened by 7 but the bloodshot concept continued to frighten him whenever he saw his reflection in the front view mirror. He arrived at the company shortly and he hurried through the busy corridors to the rehearsal basement. He didn’t feel like greeting the younger artists and definitely didn’t feel like seeing Yonghwa’s face. He felt like punching his face and throwing up on him.
No one was there, which surprised him. He thought the boys always showed up at seven thirty, which was just about then. He always rehearsed alone from six till seven, went out for a quick breakfast and a jog then returned. He met the boys usually there, sitting with their breakfast-usually junk food that they pick up on the way.
Instead, it turned into eight and no one showed up.
Huh! Is everyone avoiding me now? He couldn’t help but get hurt. He quit the rehearsal and just went for his presumed jog. Breakfast was WAY out of the question.
Hongki didn’t come back home that night. Jonghun waited. Even for a ROUND 2, he waited. He didn’t care if they fought or not, he just wanted to see Hongki. He didn’t return to the company after his jog, he just returned home and scribbled down notes and strummed his guitar while watching the clock tick away till lunch time.
He ate alone after filling the pets’ food plates. They didn’t bother him much after that, each eating its food quietly and then resorting to a quiet grooming session.
He did see the note but when he tried calling Hongki, he couldn’t get through. Hongki’s phone was turned off. He didn’t bother calling the other guys; they were obviously all ganging up on him. Why should he be the one to persist on knowing what they had in mind? He was somehow done with being their mom. He needed some attention too.
Pathetically, he sat there all by himself till 11 P.M refusing to go to bed because he knew that’d be when Hongki would show up pounding on the door all drunk and grumpy.
And he did. He did exactly that. As usual. Hongki’s face flushed, his attire disordered, and his words slurred.
“I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry,” he blabbered on and on, the entire time Jaejin dropped him off with an apologetic smile. Hongki showered Jonghun with apologies and wet smacks on his cheeks-poor imitations of kisses. He didn’t bother reassure Jaejin with a smile, he knew his eyes were sunk with disappointment. Why should he lie to himself and to others?
“Come on, Hongki, you’ve had enough,” he said to the drunken mess in his arms. He removed Hongki’s shoes, his jacket and cardigan and down to his homely attire. Hongki was still latched on Jonghun’s neck, wetting his cheeks with open mouthed kisses.
Hongki hummed and moaned as he did that, which all gave Jonghun a slight discomfort. They were fighting… right?
He felt guilty, fending off Hongki’s attentions after he had been begging for them just twenty four hours ago. Instead of taking advantage though, he preferred to put Hongki in bed and deal with the hangover in the morning just like he always did.
jonghun/hongki; angst; angst; angst; pg
Hongki and Jonghun get into a fight about Hongki's drinking and neglectfulness, ending up with a drunk and attentive Hongki.
The aftermath of their fight left a dizzying effect on both of them. Hongki stood on the far left side of the living room, his hands slightly shook due to his screaming, and his heartbeat felt like Minhwan's drums at their concerts, beating nonstop. Jonghun on the other hand, had his head buried in his hands, sitting down on their soft lavender velvet couch. He rubbed his face, his fingertips were calloused and too rough on his burning cheeks, but he couldn't show Hongki his crying face. They took a moment, or two, to calm down. They have both been at fault yet not one of them decided to apologize. It all had stirred when Hongki's drinking parties occurred too often, and when Jonghun's nonchalance struck deep into Hongki's chest--which, in his loud voice confirmed that it was the trigger for his drinking. From drinking to the lack of responsibility, both called one another names. Their intimacy forgotten, hate spelled with many colorful words. Some hurt and some just broke one another's heart. Yet, neither one of them decided to be the damn bigger man and apologize.
Hongki glanced back at him, his eyes still shocked and intense with their glare. Jonghun didn't look back, deliberately averting his pupils to stare furiously at his feet. His socked feet ached from the previous pacing and his head pounded, he didn't want to get into another fight. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever. He released a long exhale, and got up. Hongki didn't bother to stop him, he just let him slither into the bedroom and surprisingly, gently shut the door behind him.
Once alone, Hongki's chest felt too tight. His breathing wouldn't go back to normal and his hands kept on shaking. He stared down at his palms, and tried to steady them with sheer willpower first, but then manually by sitting on his hands. But even after five minutes, he couldn't stop shaking. The exhales were long and deep with each incoming inhale. But, that didn't help. He still felt like crying and HIS DAMN HANDS STILL SHOOK INTENSELY.
He decided that leaving would be the best option now-temporarily, of course. He left a note behind, written by the phone with shaky handwriting. "I'm at the boys' place... Please call me when you’ve calmed down..."
He didn't bother loiter around for much long after that. He didn't pack a thing, just took his jacket (it was still cool outside, it being January in Seoul) and left silently.
The cats piled on top of him and the pressure was so good, Jonghun stayed in bed for an extra hour. Unlike his usual self, he felt like sleeping in, letting his limps get too comfortable, ruin an entire week with a deliberant 'Oops, I overslept' incident. Yet, the cats knew their owner too well; they began to claw his hair soon after 6 a.m. He grumbled but got up. The bathroom's floor was cold and the rush of sensation running through his nerves came with the remembrance of last night.
"Oh man," he groaned into the mirror. His eyes were fulgent and his cheeks were puffed. Obviously, he didn't bother with the 'stop crying before bed' rule and let his emotions run wild. He examined his face closely, and chose that he couldn't help it. Either way, he had to get ready and go to rehearsal, whether Hongki was in or not.
He shaved, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and tried his BEST to look human again. The puffiness lessened by 7 but the bloodshot concept continued to frighten him whenever he saw his reflection in the front view mirror. He arrived at the company shortly and he hurried through the busy corridors to the rehearsal basement. He didn’t feel like greeting the younger artists and definitely didn’t feel like seeing Yonghwa’s face. He felt like punching his face and throwing up on him.
No one was there, which surprised him. He thought the boys always showed up at seven thirty, which was just about then. He always rehearsed alone from six till seven, went out for a quick breakfast and a jog then returned. He met the boys usually there, sitting with their breakfast-usually junk food that they pick up on the way.
Instead, it turned into eight and no one showed up.
Huh! Is everyone avoiding me now? He couldn’t help but get hurt. He quit the rehearsal and just went for his presumed jog. Breakfast was WAY out of the question.
Hongki didn’t come back home that night. Jonghun waited. Even for a ROUND 2, he waited. He didn’t care if they fought or not, he just wanted to see Hongki. He didn’t return to the company after his jog, he just returned home and scribbled down notes and strummed his guitar while watching the clock tick away till lunch time.
He ate alone after filling the pets’ food plates. They didn’t bother him much after that, each eating its food quietly and then resorting to a quiet grooming session.
He did see the note but when he tried calling Hongki, he couldn’t get through. Hongki’s phone was turned off. He didn’t bother calling the other guys; they were obviously all ganging up on him. Why should he be the one to persist on knowing what they had in mind? He was somehow done with being their mom. He needed some attention too.
Pathetically, he sat there all by himself till 11 P.M refusing to go to bed because he knew that’d be when Hongki would show up pounding on the door all drunk and grumpy.
And he did. He did exactly that. As usual. Hongki’s face flushed, his attire disordered, and his words slurred.
“I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry,” he blabbered on and on, the entire time Jaejin dropped him off with an apologetic smile. Hongki showered Jonghun with apologies and wet smacks on his cheeks-poor imitations of kisses. He didn’t bother reassure Jaejin with a smile, he knew his eyes were sunk with disappointment. Why should he lie to himself and to others?
“Come on, Hongki, you’ve had enough,” he said to the drunken mess in his arms. He removed Hongki’s shoes, his jacket and cardigan and down to his homely attire. Hongki was still latched on Jonghun’s neck, wetting his cheeks with open mouthed kisses.
Hongki hummed and moaned as he did that, which all gave Jonghun a slight discomfort. They were fighting… right?
He felt guilty, fending off Hongki’s attentions after he had been begging for them just twenty four hours ago. Instead of taking advantage though, he preferred to put Hongki in bed and deal with the hangover in the morning just like he always did.