Simulation : Hyunseung's Perspective [1/1]
Title: Simulation : Hyunseung's Perspective
Pairing: Junseung, onesided Dooseung
Genre: Romance, Angst, Horror, Smut
Rating: R
Summary: Hyunseung spends half his waking day by himself and the rest of it with a man he married but doesn't really know
Notes: This is a short piece from Hyunseung's POV. There's some smut but it's not really that descriptive. Dedicated to badoy who requested Seungie's POV. Sorry if this inspires any bad feelings. My already depressed beta said 'It's good but I feel tripley depressed' Ooopsies! T.T Sorry Natalie!!
He doesn’t remember how he first met Junhyung and he doesn’t remember their first date. He doesn’t remember how they got engaged, though there’s a photo of them from that night, looking startlingly happy together, that sits on the oak dresser at the foot of their bed. Their wedding, did they really have a wedding? - Was fantastic though Hyunseung opted not to wear a dress as many people had expected. This too is proven by a photo on the oak dresser in their room. His first memory of Junhyung, of anything - really, was of Junhyung roughly grinding him against the front door.
Junhyung was so familiar but so… not, at the same time.
In the early days, he’d wake up, make breakfast and watch as Junhyung sat opposite him and ate. The other would flick through the paper and though his head was turned to the long winded articles, Hyunseung could see he was really reading the comic strips. His eyes would crinkle just so in the corners and he’d smile in a special lopsided way. Those were the smiles Junhyung gave when he was truly happy. Hyunseung didn’t receive one for a long, long time.
They’d move to the doorway once Hyunseung had cleared away their plates. Junhyung’s would be empty because Hyunseung was a good cook. Hyunseung’s food usually went half-eaten and his belly would rumble a short while after Junhyung left and continue to do so until he could set a meal down in front of his new lover. He’d swell with pride as the other boy ate and somehow he was reminded of a woman, lingering in the distance of his conscience and he vaguely recalled her name to be ‘mom’.
‘I’m sorry’ He murmurs against Junhyung’s lips. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He’s too weak to fight whatever is controlling him as he curls his arms around Junhyung’s neck, feeling the other -equally as weak, touching his waist. Junhyung looks horrified. ‘I’ll see you tonight’ Junhyung’s hand is large against his skull, warm and powerful and surely strong enough to slam his head against the wall if he just had the movement to do so. He pulls back, reaches for Junhyung’s tie to straighten it because the man is hopeless at doing so himself. His shaking hands gently adjust and tighten the tie around his neck. He’s the executioner and Junhyung’s future is going to die. The plain black tie in his hands is the noose that will kill their hopes and sentence them to this odd, bewildering life. ‘Have a good shift’ He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes and he breathes a sigh of relief as Junhyung steps out of the door.
Junhyung will describe the time he goes to work as a moment of darkness. He doesn’t remember the hospital and there’s never a hair out of place from the neatly groomed man who left that morning. For Hyunseung, this solitary time is agonising. He’s alone in a spotless house from the moment Junhyung leaves till the moment he returns. He has no friends to invite over except a couple of old women who live somewhere in the neighbourhood. If anyone were to ask him where exactly they lived he wouldn’t be able to say. He doesn’t even know the way to his own front gate.
There’s not much to do in a spotless house once he’s washed and put away the dishes so he spends most of his day staring at the TV screen or the familiar print of a book that he soon learns word for word. After the hundredth day the book begins to look worn. The spine has cracks and the ink on the cover is scratched and chipping. Some days he’ll paint and fill the canvas with images of something he can’t recall but can’t quite forget either. Faces, objects and beautiful landscapes that have some kind of great significance to a period of his life that he can’t recall. He wonders if Junhyung ever has that nagging feeling in the back of his head like he’s forgotten something. His hands are the only things he can control in these moments.
The clock chimes four in the afternoon and the hairs at his nape prickle. His body forces its way through their glistening white house, movements stiff and robotic because he doesn’t want this and he’s fighting with all his might. It’s no use but for he’ll keep trying.
The shower is too cold as he steps under the spray and he barely manages to move his hands in time to stop the chemical suds of the shampoo burning his eyes. The generic brand of shampoo is comforting its own odd little way. It doesn’t change, even as their lives do and he likes the continuity of it. He’s not exactly sure when or how he learnt to curl his own hair but once he’s out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, he begins to pull at the loose curls. It becomes a routine, at least twice a week he pulls the part mesh wife beater over his head and stares at his reflection. He’s slender and pale, the wife beater hangs off his shoulders at odd angles revealing too much skin.
He meets Junhyung at the door, all hands and clashing teeth as he quickly coerces his husband to follow back into bright white depths of their house. He watches his hands as they brush at Junhyung’s neck and he feels the blush that spreads as they drop to the other man’s chest. He’s never been able to imagine this, touching someone else in all the right places. Junhyung pauses mid-sentence, breath hitching and Hyunseung takes him by the hips. It always goes like this. Gentle little touches that make Junhyung needy and uncomfortable in so many ways.
The first time they have sex Hyunseung screams. It’s hard and raw and he can’t tell if the tears staining his shirt are his or Junhyung’s. His body aches, torn in apart and Junhyung is deceptively strong despite his slender build much like Hyunseung’s own. It goes on like that for months, Junhyung fucking him till he’s raw and bleeding, heart screaming because he barely knows the man he’s promised his life to.
.They crawl into bed together, legs entwining because there’s something that’s forcing them to share this foreign intimacy but as soon as the control lifts and they are free, Junhyung rolls away taking his warmth and shame with him. Hyunseung cries for Junhyung just as much as he cries for himself.
He’s not sure when things began to change between them but somewhere along the lines they do. Junhyung’s eyes don’t look so scared anymore when he reaches out to cup Hyunseung’s small beautiful head in his large masculine hands. It’s a relief for Hyunseung because he gets a fleeting jolt in his stomach when Junhyung looks at his just so and he smiles a little wider, as wide as the boundaries of control will let him when Junhyung catches his eye over the morning paper.
It could have been when Junhyung told him they’d get through this together because they need each other. Hyunseung knows this. He’d have gone insane without Junhyung’s steady breathing beside him at night, calling him closer and closer like a siren. Hyunseung rests his head on Junhyung’s chest when he’s sure the other is asleep and listens to the strong thump thump thump of Junhyung’s heart.
Junhyung kisses him, actually kisses him like he means it when Hyunseung greets him at the door, fingers clutching at his waist because even if this entire world collapses around them they’ll survive together. Junhyung moans against his lips and his hands fist Hyunseung’s shirt a little tighter. Hyunseung clings to him in return, nails cutting tiny little red and white crescent moons into Junhyung’s skin because sometimes the pain makes all of this feel a little more real.
There comes a time when Junhyung’s soft ‘I love you’ stops shattering his heart because he knows that Junhyung means it. Their lips will meet and one of those hands will stroke his face, his hair, his arm and the other will curl around him as though Junhyung is trying to wrap himself around Hyunseung like a giant breathing blanket. I love you. I love you. I love you too. Hyunseung never hesitates to say it back when they hide together under thick piles of blankets in their own little reality.
Junhyung smiles at him, head on Hyunseung’s pillow and his lips tug just so till he’s smiling that lopsided grin. Hyunseung’s heart flutters.
‘You’d let me take you if I wanted to’ Growls Junhyung one night after a particularly rough evening. Hyunseung tries to cuddle up to him, fingers ghosting across the tattoo on his chest and Junhyung rolls away with tense shoulders and a quivering lip. Hyunseung tenderly rubs his own back. ‘I would’ He admits, trying to calm the way his voice wavers in the air between them. ‘But I know you wouldn’t’ He soothes a hand over Junhyung’s shoulder and his stubborn lover allows himself to be rolled onto his back.
‘It kills me to do that to you, Seung’ Hyunseung nods because he understands. He sees something die in Junhyung’s eyes every time the younger pounds into him without any sort of preparation. ‘It’s not so bad, anymore’ Hyunseung finds himself saying as he presses a kiss to the skin above Junhyung’s heart. It’s only partly a lie because although the physical pain is still there, he knows it’s Junhyung doing it. Junhyung who curls himself around him when they finally have power over their own bodies again and presses wet kisses to his spine. Junhyung who murmurs words of love into his hair and relaxes his muscles with gentle touches until Hyunseung falls asleep.
Doojoon rockets into their life like a bull in a china shop and everything is sent off kilter. The older man presses soft touches to Hyunseung’s inner elbow and smiles in a way that sends shivers up Hyunseung’s spine because he knows that Junhyung is watching and neither can do anything to stop the situation. Doojoon is good looking with those sharp dark eyes and that alluring grin but Junhyung is lopsided smiles and disastrous ties. There’s too much of a connection between them, some sort of electric spark that showers him with warm tingling sensations that fall around him in memories of pain and happiness.
Doojoon kisses him once. The control had worn off and he was flattered by the attention. It was the first time he’d been able to be himself around anyone other than Junhyung and he really just wanted a friend. But Doojoon’s lips were cool and strange. They didn’t feel right in the way that Junhyung’s did.
When Junhyung is jealous it’s a mixture of this strange power over him and Junhyung’s own feelings. He can see it in the other’s eyes, the burning fury and pain that doesn’t extinguish till they’re gasping each other’s names in the back of a car they rarely use. Junhyung is rough with him, harsher than he’s even been but his fingers curl around Hyunseung with a delicious friction and when it’s all over he’s left with a ridiculous tingle in the pit of his stomach because despite everything, Junhyung cares.
When he wakes up in a cold white room he finds there’s a hole in his chest. It’s small and oddly carved, somewhere near his left lung. His heart is still there, beating steadily to push the blood through his veins but something is missing and he feels awfully lost without it. He’ll swear that he feels a ring on his finger. A smooth cold band around his ring finger on his left hand though why he’d wear a wedding ring when he’s not married he wouldn’t know. Hyunseung doesn’t wear rings at all.
He stumbles out of the centre sometime later. His head swimming from all the information he’s just taken in. The reality machine didn’t work. He didn’t dream of anything as he should have. It back fired and something went wrong so he just ended up sleeping for a little over 6 hours. His mother had been nagging him to take a rest.
He’s too far gone, so disoriented and lost in thought that he doesn’t see the brown haired boy staring a poster till he bodily collides with him. The other hisses, boiling coffee scolding his hand and Hyunseung gasps. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. ‘Oh - I’m so sorry! Here, let me’ He closes his hand around one of the other male’s. ‘I’ll buy you a new one’ His voice is awfully pitchy. Why won’t his voice behave itself?
The other boy looks up and his whole body seems to jolt. There’s something familiar, something so very familiar and loved but he can’t name it almost as he’s about to grasp the reason for these strange feelings for the other boy it slips out of his grasp and he’s left disappointed. The boy frowns unconsciously in response. ‘Have we met before? You look familiar but…’ He shakes his head. He’s just being silly. How could they know each other?
‘Oh forget it. I’m just being silly’ He laughs, awkward and embarrassing. He turns to leave but the other stops him with a gentle but large hand that he can’t help but stare at. How would it feel to have those fingers touch his face? ‘No, we’ve met’ The other boy says with a mysterious smile. ‘We’ve met. I just don’t remember where or when’ His eyes widen as the other blushes, hand falling to rest in the air between them Hyunseung stares at it for a hopeful moment. ‘Why don’t you treat me to that coffee and we’ll try to work it out together’ His heart skips a beat as puts his cool hand in the other’s. ‘I’d like that’
‘I’m Hyunseung, by the way’.
Pairing: Junseung, onesided Dooseung
Genre: Romance, Angst, Horror, Smut
Rating: R
Summary: Hyunseung spends half his waking day by himself and the rest of it with a man he married but doesn't really know
Notes: This is a short piece from Hyunseung's POV. There's some smut but it's not really that descriptive. Dedicated to badoy who requested Seungie's POV. Sorry if this inspires any bad feelings. My already depressed beta said 'It's good but I feel tripley depressed' Ooopsies! T.T Sorry Natalie!!
He doesn’t remember how he first met Junhyung and he doesn’t remember their first date. He doesn’t remember how they got engaged, though there’s a photo of them from that night, looking startlingly happy together, that sits on the oak dresser at the foot of their bed. Their wedding, did they really have a wedding? - Was fantastic though Hyunseung opted not to wear a dress as many people had expected. This too is proven by a photo on the oak dresser in their room. His first memory of Junhyung, of anything - really, was of Junhyung roughly grinding him against the front door.
Junhyung was so familiar but so… not, at the same time.
In the early days, he’d wake up, make breakfast and watch as Junhyung sat opposite him and ate. The other would flick through the paper and though his head was turned to the long winded articles, Hyunseung could see he was really reading the comic strips. His eyes would crinkle just so in the corners and he’d smile in a special lopsided way. Those were the smiles Junhyung gave when he was truly happy. Hyunseung didn’t receive one for a long, long time.
They’d move to the doorway once Hyunseung had cleared away their plates. Junhyung’s would be empty because Hyunseung was a good cook. Hyunseung’s food usually went half-eaten and his belly would rumble a short while after Junhyung left and continue to do so until he could set a meal down in front of his new lover. He’d swell with pride as the other boy ate and somehow he was reminded of a woman, lingering in the distance of his conscience and he vaguely recalled her name to be ‘mom’.
‘I’m sorry’ He murmurs against Junhyung’s lips. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He’s too weak to fight whatever is controlling him as he curls his arms around Junhyung’s neck, feeling the other -equally as weak, touching his waist. Junhyung looks horrified. ‘I’ll see you tonight’ Junhyung’s hand is large against his skull, warm and powerful and surely strong enough to slam his head against the wall if he just had the movement to do so. He pulls back, reaches for Junhyung’s tie to straighten it because the man is hopeless at doing so himself. His shaking hands gently adjust and tighten the tie around his neck. He’s the executioner and Junhyung’s future is going to die. The plain black tie in his hands is the noose that will kill their hopes and sentence them to this odd, bewildering life. ‘Have a good shift’ He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes and he breathes a sigh of relief as Junhyung steps out of the door.
Junhyung will describe the time he goes to work as a moment of darkness. He doesn’t remember the hospital and there’s never a hair out of place from the neatly groomed man who left that morning. For Hyunseung, this solitary time is agonising. He’s alone in a spotless house from the moment Junhyung leaves till the moment he returns. He has no friends to invite over except a couple of old women who live somewhere in the neighbourhood. If anyone were to ask him where exactly they lived he wouldn’t be able to say. He doesn’t even know the way to his own front gate.
There’s not much to do in a spotless house once he’s washed and put away the dishes so he spends most of his day staring at the TV screen or the familiar print of a book that he soon learns word for word. After the hundredth day the book begins to look worn. The spine has cracks and the ink on the cover is scratched and chipping. Some days he’ll paint and fill the canvas with images of something he can’t recall but can’t quite forget either. Faces, objects and beautiful landscapes that have some kind of great significance to a period of his life that he can’t recall. He wonders if Junhyung ever has that nagging feeling in the back of his head like he’s forgotten something. His hands are the only things he can control in these moments.
The clock chimes four in the afternoon and the hairs at his nape prickle. His body forces its way through their glistening white house, movements stiff and robotic because he doesn’t want this and he’s fighting with all his might. It’s no use but for he’ll keep trying.
The shower is too cold as he steps under the spray and he barely manages to move his hands in time to stop the chemical suds of the shampoo burning his eyes. The generic brand of shampoo is comforting its own odd little way. It doesn’t change, even as their lives do and he likes the continuity of it. He’s not exactly sure when or how he learnt to curl his own hair but once he’s out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, he begins to pull at the loose curls. It becomes a routine, at least twice a week he pulls the part mesh wife beater over his head and stares at his reflection. He’s slender and pale, the wife beater hangs off his shoulders at odd angles revealing too much skin.
He meets Junhyung at the door, all hands and clashing teeth as he quickly coerces his husband to follow back into bright white depths of their house. He watches his hands as they brush at Junhyung’s neck and he feels the blush that spreads as they drop to the other man’s chest. He’s never been able to imagine this, touching someone else in all the right places. Junhyung pauses mid-sentence, breath hitching and Hyunseung takes him by the hips. It always goes like this. Gentle little touches that make Junhyung needy and uncomfortable in so many ways.
The first time they have sex Hyunseung screams. It’s hard and raw and he can’t tell if the tears staining his shirt are his or Junhyung’s. His body aches, torn in apart and Junhyung is deceptively strong despite his slender build much like Hyunseung’s own. It goes on like that for months, Junhyung fucking him till he’s raw and bleeding, heart screaming because he barely knows the man he’s promised his life to.
.They crawl into bed together, legs entwining because there’s something that’s forcing them to share this foreign intimacy but as soon as the control lifts and they are free, Junhyung rolls away taking his warmth and shame with him. Hyunseung cries for Junhyung just as much as he cries for himself.
He’s not sure when things began to change between them but somewhere along the lines they do. Junhyung’s eyes don’t look so scared anymore when he reaches out to cup Hyunseung’s small beautiful head in his large masculine hands. It’s a relief for Hyunseung because he gets a fleeting jolt in his stomach when Junhyung looks at his just so and he smiles a little wider, as wide as the boundaries of control will let him when Junhyung catches his eye over the morning paper.
It could have been when Junhyung told him they’d get through this together because they need each other. Hyunseung knows this. He’d have gone insane without Junhyung’s steady breathing beside him at night, calling him closer and closer like a siren. Hyunseung rests his head on Junhyung’s chest when he’s sure the other is asleep and listens to the strong thump thump thump of Junhyung’s heart.
Junhyung kisses him, actually kisses him like he means it when Hyunseung greets him at the door, fingers clutching at his waist because even if this entire world collapses around them they’ll survive together. Junhyung moans against his lips and his hands fist Hyunseung’s shirt a little tighter. Hyunseung clings to him in return, nails cutting tiny little red and white crescent moons into Junhyung’s skin because sometimes the pain makes all of this feel a little more real.
There comes a time when Junhyung’s soft ‘I love you’ stops shattering his heart because he knows that Junhyung means it. Their lips will meet and one of those hands will stroke his face, his hair, his arm and the other will curl around him as though Junhyung is trying to wrap himself around Hyunseung like a giant breathing blanket. I love you. I love you. I love you too. Hyunseung never hesitates to say it back when they hide together under thick piles of blankets in their own little reality.
Junhyung smiles at him, head on Hyunseung’s pillow and his lips tug just so till he’s smiling that lopsided grin. Hyunseung’s heart flutters.
‘You’d let me take you if I wanted to’ Growls Junhyung one night after a particularly rough evening. Hyunseung tries to cuddle up to him, fingers ghosting across the tattoo on his chest and Junhyung rolls away with tense shoulders and a quivering lip. Hyunseung tenderly rubs his own back. ‘I would’ He admits, trying to calm the way his voice wavers in the air between them. ‘But I know you wouldn’t’ He soothes a hand over Junhyung’s shoulder and his stubborn lover allows himself to be rolled onto his back.
‘It kills me to do that to you, Seung’ Hyunseung nods because he understands. He sees something die in Junhyung’s eyes every time the younger pounds into him without any sort of preparation. ‘It’s not so bad, anymore’ Hyunseung finds himself saying as he presses a kiss to the skin above Junhyung’s heart. It’s only partly a lie because although the physical pain is still there, he knows it’s Junhyung doing it. Junhyung who curls himself around him when they finally have power over their own bodies again and presses wet kisses to his spine. Junhyung who murmurs words of love into his hair and relaxes his muscles with gentle touches until Hyunseung falls asleep.
Doojoon rockets into their life like a bull in a china shop and everything is sent off kilter. The older man presses soft touches to Hyunseung’s inner elbow and smiles in a way that sends shivers up Hyunseung’s spine because he knows that Junhyung is watching and neither can do anything to stop the situation. Doojoon is good looking with those sharp dark eyes and that alluring grin but Junhyung is lopsided smiles and disastrous ties. There’s too much of a connection between them, some sort of electric spark that showers him with warm tingling sensations that fall around him in memories of pain and happiness.
Doojoon kisses him once. The control had worn off and he was flattered by the attention. It was the first time he’d been able to be himself around anyone other than Junhyung and he really just wanted a friend. But Doojoon’s lips were cool and strange. They didn’t feel right in the way that Junhyung’s did.
When Junhyung is jealous it’s a mixture of this strange power over him and Junhyung’s own feelings. He can see it in the other’s eyes, the burning fury and pain that doesn’t extinguish till they’re gasping each other’s names in the back of a car they rarely use. Junhyung is rough with him, harsher than he’s even been but his fingers curl around Hyunseung with a delicious friction and when it’s all over he’s left with a ridiculous tingle in the pit of his stomach because despite everything, Junhyung cares.
When he wakes up in a cold white room he finds there’s a hole in his chest. It’s small and oddly carved, somewhere near his left lung. His heart is still there, beating steadily to push the blood through his veins but something is missing and he feels awfully lost without it. He’ll swear that he feels a ring on his finger. A smooth cold band around his ring finger on his left hand though why he’d wear a wedding ring when he’s not married he wouldn’t know. Hyunseung doesn’t wear rings at all.
He stumbles out of the centre sometime later. His head swimming from all the information he’s just taken in. The reality machine didn’t work. He didn’t dream of anything as he should have. It back fired and something went wrong so he just ended up sleeping for a little over 6 hours. His mother had been nagging him to take a rest.
He’s too far gone, so disoriented and lost in thought that he doesn’t see the brown haired boy staring a poster till he bodily collides with him. The other hisses, boiling coffee scolding his hand and Hyunseung gasps. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. ‘Oh - I’m so sorry! Here, let me’ He closes his hand around one of the other male’s. ‘I’ll buy you a new one’ His voice is awfully pitchy. Why won’t his voice behave itself?
The other boy looks up and his whole body seems to jolt. There’s something familiar, something so very familiar and loved but he can’t name it almost as he’s about to grasp the reason for these strange feelings for the other boy it slips out of his grasp and he’s left disappointed. The boy frowns unconsciously in response. ‘Have we met before? You look familiar but…’ He shakes his head. He’s just being silly. How could they know each other?
‘Oh forget it. I’m just being silly’ He laughs, awkward and embarrassing. He turns to leave but the other stops him with a gentle but large hand that he can’t help but stare at. How would it feel to have those fingers touch his face? ‘No, we’ve met’ The other boy says with a mysterious smile. ‘We’ve met. I just don’t remember where or when’ His eyes widen as the other blushes, hand falling to rest in the air between them Hyunseung stares at it for a hopeful moment. ‘Why don’t you treat me to that coffee and we’ll try to work it out together’ His heart skips a beat as puts his cool hand in the other’s. ‘I’d like that’
‘I’m Hyunseung, by the way’.