[fic] Fix You
//Pairing//: Nichkhun x Chansung
//Prompt//: Fix You
//Rating//: PG-13, for emo!Khun and one use of language
//Summary//: Khun is upset, but no one knows why.
//Word Count//: 874
//Author's Note//: Originally written for comicbookending, who I write a lot of things for but never get anything back. ♥
Khun has been quiet for days, withdrawing more and more behind his facade of laughter and smiles. He thinks no one has noticed this regression - this deterioration, even - but he is sorely mistaken. As his laugh gets hollower, his eyes icier with the effort of restraining his inner discomfort, everyone notices, but they don't say a word, not yet willing to tread on the ticking time-bomb that he has become.
When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
He doesn't know what it is either, but his heart - his soul - is burning up. On some level in his consciousness, he sees the concern, the gentle nudges and knowing looks, the extra helpings on his plate at mealtimes - his brothers showing him concern the only way they know how. He resents it, being this way. He feels weak, and impotent, trapped in a quagmire of confusion that he cannot get out of, yet cannot help being in.
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
Only Chansung dares to risk it, but even then, it is a delicate operation that he mulls over for a while before acting upon. "Hyung...?" he whispers, leaning over the rails of his bunk well into the wee hours of the morning, long after goodnights have been said, and the rest of the house has fallen quiet.
"Are you awake?"
A creak, a gentle, exasperated sigh cuts through the darkness.
"I'm asleep."
A short - or long - pause follows. Neither can tell.
"You're awake, hyung." The younger says eventually, in his gentle monotone.
"I'm asleep." Khun says in response, his voice sounding like concrete breeze blocks in the still air.
He waits with bated breath, staring up at the base of the bunk above him for the other to give up and go to bed. His eyelids grow heavy with fatigue, but his heart is racing, his synapses lighting up like flares as he lies in bed, shivering with the effort of restraining a barrage of emotions that have been building up, like a raging torrent pressing against a dam. Only when the other's even breathing is resumed, does he even dare to exhale.
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
The tears have been a long time coming; short, choking sobs that fill his throat and stain his pillow. He turns in bed, shoving his face into the mattress, both arms wrapped around his lanky frame to try and ease the shivers that run down his spine.
Only when he looks up to take in a short gasp of air, does he feel the depression on the bed from where his roommate is sat, and the gentle pressure of Chansung's long, tapered fingers as they graze the curve of his cheeks, his neck, running through his messy, slightly unkempt hair.
"Hyung, you were awake," he says, his voice laden with worry.
You lying bastard - Khun entertains the thought for a moment, angry at having his privacy infringed upon, before his conscience takes over, and he wipes his face with the back of his hand before turning to face the other. There is one brief, blessed moment of eye contact in the semi-darkness, before he feels the damp heat of Chansung's breath on his cheek as he is enveloped by the warmest embrace he has ever had the privilege to receive.
"I'm here, hyung." are the last words he hears, as he buries his head in the other's shoulder, as if hoping to find in Chansung the support that he has thus far tried vehemently to resist. It is a sweet release, this feeling, as the emotional overload finally tides itself over. Are things going to be alright, he questions silently, still not really daring to speak at all. Yet, as if on cue, Chansung's voice cuts through the quiet.
"Everything's going to be alright, hyung."
And... release.
Lights will guide you home,
And ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you.
Despite the darkness, there is a light reflected in Khun's eyes, Chansung thinks, as he waits, watching for the moment when his roommate's chest will begin to rise and fall; when sheer exhaustion finally takes over. He doesn't - or can't - let go, hands stubbornly clasped together as his arms wrap themselves around the other's still-shivering shoulders. He feels the wet warmth that seeps through his t-shirt moistening his shoulder, as the last of Khun's frustrations ebb out of him. Only when the sobbing and shivering stops, does he speak again, in a whisper that is barely, barely audible.
"Love you, hyung."
The words are clueless, muddled, and clumsy, and Khun seems to stir in his sleep, lips upturned in a serene half-smile as he lies in Chansung's arms. Only then does the magnae heave a gentle sigh of relief, before resting his head against the headboard of the bunk, hoping that the beating of his heart will not give him away.
For now, just this is enough.
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you