Connections ; Nichkhun/Wooyoung
I know it's been such a long time since I last wrote anything - I'm lazy and I procrastinate horribly :\ Hopefully there'll be more regular updates from now on, now that I have much more time on my hands!
Title: Connections
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: 2PM
Pairing(s): Nichkhun/Wooyoung
Word count: 981 words
Disclaimer: Only fiction.
Summary: I know you don’t care, but I just want to tell you that it was the best moment of my life.
Connections
Wooyoung doesn’t understand the present; he doesn’t know how to move in the here-and-now. He only knows how to crawl on his hands and knees, doing all he can to salvage the memories before they are swallowed by the flames of reality and reduced to ashes.
Your house is on fire. There are so many questions that can come next. What do you do? Where do you go? What do you save? What is that one thing you will put your life on the line for, in hope of taking it with you out of this burning building?
Who is that person you will give up escape for, the person you will stay with, inside the burning house that is slowly closing in like the jaws of death?
Wooyoung already has his answer, and it rings through the night like a call of longing for a love that has already left. That one name that refuses to be erased or forgotten.
The phone wails, begging to be answered. Wooyoung doesn’t hear it - the only thing he hears is Nichkhun saying I’m sorry over and over again, until all the beauty Wooyoung used to hear in his voice disappears and all that’s left is that terrible, hollow, flat apology that means nothing, nothing at all.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that.”
“What else can I say?”
“I still love you. This is all a mistake. I’ve changed my mind. You’re the one I’ll always come back to.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I already said I don’t want hear that. I’ll be alright - you know that.”
“I don’t know that.”
“Why can’t you at least leave me this? This disgusting, flimsy pretence of strength - please, at least let me keep it - ”
“Wooyoung - ”
“Remember that one time we got lost in Tokyo, and we walked around everywhere trying to find our way, and in the middle of the crowded street, just as I was starting to panic, you took my hand, smiled and told me, as long as you’re here with me, everything will be okay.”
“Wooyoung.”
“I know you don’t remember. I know you’ve forgotten. I know you don’t care, but I just want to tell you that it was the best moment of my life.”
“Please don’t be like this - ”
“Be like what? Disappointed? Sad? Angry?”
“No, heartbroken.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Wooyoung.”
“Just go. Leave now, before I say anything to make you feel worse, before I say anything I’ll regret.”
“You can say anything, as long as it makes you feel better.”
“What else is there left to say? Do you want to me count them - the little memories I know you no longer remember but I can recall so clearly, so vividly, right down to the colour of the shirt you were wearing the first time you kissed me, down to the pattern of the sheets under our backs that night we fell asleep watching movies deep into the night, down to - ”
The aimless walks around the city, squeezing into the same shower stall and fighting for space under the warm spray of water, the smiles illuminated by the iridescent brightness of hope, the warmth born between our linked hands, your hot breath dipping into the small of my back, my toes tracing the taut line of your calf, the scent left on my pillow after you’ve slept on it.
Wooyoung bites down on his lower lip, sits up in bed, strips his pillow of its case and hurls the offending piece of fabric across the room. It lies crumpled on the ground pitifully, an innocent victim.
Wooyoung slams his hand against the switch on the wall, turning the lights off, because it is only in the dark, that he remembers how to breathe.
“Exhale,” Wooyoung tells himself. “Inhale.”
Nichkhun is walking towards him, the distance between them is rapidly closing, and Wooyoung can feel Nichkhun’s gaze on his face, sharp and scalding. His senses begin to narrow - the sound of Nichkhun’s shoes hitting the floor is amplified, the scent of Nichkhun’s cologne snakes around him, engulfing him completely.
Their eyes meet. Wooyoung looks away, as though they are strangers, as though this coincidental meeting means nothing to him. Their sleeves brush as they walk past each other. Wooyoung suppresses the urge to flinch. He doesn’t turn around.
The sound of Nichkhun’s footsteps halts and Wooyoung knows Nichkhun has turned around to look at him. Wooyoung squares his shoulders, grits his teeth, notches his chin upwards and keeps on walking. He does not permit himself to blink away the moisture in his eyes.
Wooyoung doesn’t cry. So what if Nichkhun doesn’t want him any more? So what if he has lost the person he loves the most? If Nichkhun can move on so easily, so can Wooyoung. It’s not like you only love once, he tells himself.
Wooyoung won’t see him any more. Maybe this way, it’ll be easier to forget. Maybe this will all settle like dust on the surface of a table, as long as he leaves it undisturbed. Wooyoung almost laughs. He knows the truth.
His feelings for Nichkhun are not dust particles dancing in the air, but crashing waves - unstoppable, constant, and a force of nature.
Wooyoung stands at the edge of the beach, his feet sinking into the wet sand as waves lick at his ankles. The water is refreshingly cool and feels a little like freedom. He opens his mouth and tastes the salt of the ocean.
Someone calls his name and attempts to stuff a fistful of sand into Wooyoung’s mouth when he turns around. Wooyoung howls, yanking his feet out of the sand, but before he can take revenge, there’s sand down his back and lips pressed against his own.
This may not the best moment of his life, but it does come close enough.
MASTERLIST OF FICS HERE
Title: Connections
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: 2PM
Pairing(s): Nichkhun/Wooyoung
Word count: 981 words
Disclaimer: Only fiction.
Summary: I know you don’t care, but I just want to tell you that it was the best moment of my life.
Connections
Wooyoung doesn’t understand the present; he doesn’t know how to move in the here-and-now. He only knows how to crawl on his hands and knees, doing all he can to salvage the memories before they are swallowed by the flames of reality and reduced to ashes.
Your house is on fire. There are so many questions that can come next. What do you do? Where do you go? What do you save? What is that one thing you will put your life on the line for, in hope of taking it with you out of this burning building?
Who is that person you will give up escape for, the person you will stay with, inside the burning house that is slowly closing in like the jaws of death?
Wooyoung already has his answer, and it rings through the night like a call of longing for a love that has already left. That one name that refuses to be erased or forgotten.
The phone wails, begging to be answered. Wooyoung doesn’t hear it - the only thing he hears is Nichkhun saying I’m sorry over and over again, until all the beauty Wooyoung used to hear in his voice disappears and all that’s left is that terrible, hollow, flat apology that means nothing, nothing at all.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that.”
“What else can I say?”
“I still love you. This is all a mistake. I’ve changed my mind. You’re the one I’ll always come back to.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I already said I don’t want hear that. I’ll be alright - you know that.”
“I don’t know that.”
“Why can’t you at least leave me this? This disgusting, flimsy pretence of strength - please, at least let me keep it - ”
“Wooyoung - ”
“Remember that one time we got lost in Tokyo, and we walked around everywhere trying to find our way, and in the middle of the crowded street, just as I was starting to panic, you took my hand, smiled and told me, as long as you’re here with me, everything will be okay.”
“Wooyoung.”
“I know you don’t remember. I know you’ve forgotten. I know you don’t care, but I just want to tell you that it was the best moment of my life.”
“Please don’t be like this - ”
“Be like what? Disappointed? Sad? Angry?”
“No, heartbroken.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Wooyoung.”
“Just go. Leave now, before I say anything to make you feel worse, before I say anything I’ll regret.”
“You can say anything, as long as it makes you feel better.”
“What else is there left to say? Do you want to me count them - the little memories I know you no longer remember but I can recall so clearly, so vividly, right down to the colour of the shirt you were wearing the first time you kissed me, down to the pattern of the sheets under our backs that night we fell asleep watching movies deep into the night, down to - ”
The aimless walks around the city, squeezing into the same shower stall and fighting for space under the warm spray of water, the smiles illuminated by the iridescent brightness of hope, the warmth born between our linked hands, your hot breath dipping into the small of my back, my toes tracing the taut line of your calf, the scent left on my pillow after you’ve slept on it.
Wooyoung bites down on his lower lip, sits up in bed, strips his pillow of its case and hurls the offending piece of fabric across the room. It lies crumpled on the ground pitifully, an innocent victim.
Wooyoung slams his hand against the switch on the wall, turning the lights off, because it is only in the dark, that he remembers how to breathe.
“Exhale,” Wooyoung tells himself. “Inhale.”
Nichkhun is walking towards him, the distance between them is rapidly closing, and Wooyoung can feel Nichkhun’s gaze on his face, sharp and scalding. His senses begin to narrow - the sound of Nichkhun’s shoes hitting the floor is amplified, the scent of Nichkhun’s cologne snakes around him, engulfing him completely.
Their eyes meet. Wooyoung looks away, as though they are strangers, as though this coincidental meeting means nothing to him. Their sleeves brush as they walk past each other. Wooyoung suppresses the urge to flinch. He doesn’t turn around.
The sound of Nichkhun’s footsteps halts and Wooyoung knows Nichkhun has turned around to look at him. Wooyoung squares his shoulders, grits his teeth, notches his chin upwards and keeps on walking. He does not permit himself to blink away the moisture in his eyes.
Wooyoung doesn’t cry. So what if Nichkhun doesn’t want him any more? So what if he has lost the person he loves the most? If Nichkhun can move on so easily, so can Wooyoung. It’s not like you only love once, he tells himself.
Wooyoung won’t see him any more. Maybe this way, it’ll be easier to forget. Maybe this will all settle like dust on the surface of a table, as long as he leaves it undisturbed. Wooyoung almost laughs. He knows the truth.
His feelings for Nichkhun are not dust particles dancing in the air, but crashing waves - unstoppable, constant, and a force of nature.
Wooyoung stands at the edge of the beach, his feet sinking into the wet sand as waves lick at his ankles. The water is refreshingly cool and feels a little like freedom. He opens his mouth and tastes the salt of the ocean.
Someone calls his name and attempts to stuff a fistful of sand into Wooyoung’s mouth when he turns around. Wooyoung howls, yanking his feet out of the sand, but before he can take revenge, there’s sand down his back and lips pressed against his own.
This may not the best moment of his life, but it does come close enough.
MASTERLIST OF FICS HERE