[FIC] neverland lost
TITLE neverland lost
FANDOM block b
PAIRING b-bomb/u-kwon
SUMMARY minhyuk has been waiting for his answer
WORDS 2225
RATING pg
They pass by the building where they used to live.
It still stretches up to the clouds that have been mostly grey since Yukwon first moved to Seoul. The entrace is no longer crowded with men smoking or elderly women gossiping, and it smells more of sawdust and concrete mix than the stale city air which once permeated. Yukwon misses the familiar sight of Ms. Kang walking her dog and the stray cat Kyung refused to let them keep.
Yellow ribbons crisscross over the glass door, and Yukwon peers around Minhyuk’s shoulder in confusion. "Remodeling," Minhyuk tells him when Yukwon lingers a tad longer than he intends. "No one lives here anymore."
It's raining before they reach the end of the block, and Minhyuk's hands do not shield Yukwon's face from the rain like they once did. No, they remain resolutely in his pockets, and his stance is slumped forward, as though there is a weight settling in between his shoulders and pressing down. Yukwon's fingers twitch by his sides, and he moves his smallest finger out to brush the knobby bone of Minhyuk's wrists. Minhyuk has always been on the lithe side, and even the skinny jeans he wears are too large on his thighs.
Have you been eating well? Yukwon would ask, maybe seven years ago after a longer break for Chuseok.
Minhyuk would poke him in the side, possibly laugh off Yukwon’s concern. Not as well as you, obviously.
Yukwon wants to ask him how the military treated him, but he doesn't. He wants to ask him if he settled down in the years following the band's break-up, but he won't. Yukwon wants to ask him if he remembers the year of their debut, all the late-night talks in the main room's floor, the way Jaehyo-hyung believed in them so much, and how much Jiho worked alone or with Kyung to make the music they would sing and no one would buy.
"How have you been?" he asks instead while they wait near the crosswalk.
Minhyuk shrugs, but he does adjust his hat lower on his head when people pass them. They are unknown and irrelevant now, but what has changed?
"Fine," he answers later, after they enter the little café the group used to hold meetings in.
The interior changed over the years-updated to modern society's ideals and expanded to house more customers. It looks emptier now than it used to, when all seven of them had to force themselves into one area and crowd each other's space. Yukwon sits at a table near the window, on the end he always sat, as Minhyuk places an order. He waits for Taeil-hyung to sit next to him, give him that toothy, embarrassed smile Yukwon found comforting, and tell him about his day.
I practiced for only four hours today, he would say, and this displeased frown would edge onto his lips.
It might be winter, so Taeil-hyung's throat would be sore and their medical staff would tell him to take it easy until the next showcase. But it could be summer, when Taeil-hyung's allergies are overly stimulated and he cannot hit the note Jiho wants him to.
It's okay, hyung; you're still the best.
Yukwon would smile at him, place his hand on Taeil-hyung's shoulder, and encourage him in the best way he knew how. Taeil-hyung was strong, though, and he never liked to talk about himself for too long. Jaehyo-hyung would slide into the seat across from him, steal a piece of his dessert, and Taeil-hyung would be grinning again.
Taeil-hyung's no longer in studios, practicing nonstop for five hours everyday, though. No, he's engaged to a pretty noona Yukwon has only ever seen once in a photograph. Yukwon's invitation to the wedding sits on his coffee table, away from all the other junk mail and bills he needs to pay. Jaehyo-hyung keeps in touch with him even when he's busy, calling every Thursday to check in, and he remains the only one Yukwon has been in contact with since the break-up.
Minhyuk orders the original flavor of churros, just like he did years before, and this normalcy sets Yukwon's mind to ease. Minhyuk has never been the best at conversation, always a little too soft when force was needed and quiet when the timing called for loudness, and they used to rely on Jihoon for dinner-time entertainment.
"You weren't there yesterday," Minhyuk says three bites into his churro, but he's looking off somewhere. Possibly the pretty waitress with her hair tied back with a blue ribbon. Minhyuk glances to him-a minute look that means the world and nothing to Yukwon. "Jaehyo said he called you."
Yukwon clinks his spoon in his mug, watches the swirls of tea ground settle in their place, and keeps silent.
"It doesn't matter," Minhyuk acquiesces. "You're here now at least."
The last time they spoke Yukwon had been angry-he never stopped being angry. There was a spittle of fire burning in his chest, a shaking tremor singing through every nerve in his body, and he hated them-Jaehyo-hyung's misplaced optimism, Jiho's leadership, Kyung's stupid jokes, Jihoon's fucking aegyo, and Taeil-hyung's voice humming their songs to an audience of no one.
Hey, Minhyuk had said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders like he had been prone to do. Yukwon shook him off, and Minhyuk had not left him alone even when Yukwon asked.
Yukwon hated Minhyuk the most, and maybe he still does.
"I wanted to come," Yukwon tells him, and the crumbs on the table are more interesting than Minhyuk's eyes. This is a lie. "Something... came up."
When he chances a glance up, Minhyuk's gaze is set on him-not over his shoulders or the faded scribble of Jihoon's name on the wall. No, Minhyuk keeps his eyes on him, serious and open. Yukwon cannot tear his eyes away.
He had seen this look before, only once. Yukwon, tired and sore from one of the final dance practices before their comeback, saw Minhyuk stare at him in the exact same way.
Minhyuk had wiped his sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and then reached to wipe the rest from the underside of his jaw with his plain white tee. Kwon, he whispered, and even in the silence it sounded like a yell.
Yeah?
Minhyuk cleared his throat before kneeling in front of him. Could we be in love?
Yukwon looked at his hands, calloused from playing the chords of Bruno Mars' Lazy Song and tiny notes to wordless tunes. The netizen's hated him, but there was support in the strangest cattycorners of the world. "Stay strong, U-Kwon," they told him, and Cho PD gave him a break. It didn't matter anymore, though; everything was practically over.
Maybe, Yukwon answered. Honest in the way he replied, but, but we're not.
Minhyuk pulled away then, and his posture sloped at that time too. Yukwon never noticed, but this might have been when he began to hate Minhyuk.
Minhyuk smiles now, though. "It wasn't a big deal," he says. His fingernails have grown longer, and he still has the habit of biting his lip when glancing at someone. The bangs are no longer there, shorter from two-years of service, and the hat on his head covers what hasn't grown. He pries a tiny piece from the churro and offers it to Yukwon, who accepts without hesitation. "Everyone was there."
There was no coverage when Lee Minhyuk came back from his military service because Block B's popularity had long been forgotten and fans' faith never lasted long. But there was a small gathering. "Just us seven," Jaehyo-hyung said over the phone, "It'd mean a lot for all of us if you came."
In the airy silence, though, Yukwon had understood that it would mean a lot to Minhyuk had he shown. He only got as far as the end of his street, halfway to hailing a cab, but backed out at the last second.
Jaehyo-hyung once asked him if he saw Minhyuk's show, the one he hosted on MTV after earning his broadcasting degree. Yukwon evaded the question then because it wasn't something he wanted to readily admit. Yes, he turned the television on every Friday night and curled into his worn-in couch. At first it was just to catch a glimpse of Minhyuk, as a way to check-in with old bandmates without ever having to phone or text them.
But-Minhyuk's mouth, curled down at the ends in a permanent frown, and the way he laughed while interviewing guests stayed with Yukwon.
"He doesn't live too far from the old dorm," Jaehyo-hyung said over lunch of samgyupsal-Yukwon ordered it on accident because he remembered it had been Minhyuk's favorite-and steamed rice. "You should visit sometime. He asks about you-when we talk."
"I'm sorry," Yukwon says, but for what-even he doesn't know.
Minhyuk cups the line of his jaw with his left hand, stares out the window to the falling rain, and says, "Don't worry about it." He pauses only long enough to slide a quick glance at the clock near the counter. "Are you busy?"
Yukwon shakes his head.
Minhyuk walks with him to the bus station. The only people on board are school children going home and older women finished with their grocery shopping, and Minhyuk leads them to the back of the bus. He sits with him there, and Yukwon wants to share sticks of candy they aren't supposed to eat because Jonghwan-hyung forbade it. All Yukwon has in his pockets now are loose change and his own hands.
Minhyuk's apartment is opposite their old dorm, and Minhyuk tugs him into the elevator with him. "It's a lot better than taking the stairs, even if it's slow," he says in explanation as he pushes the floor number he lives on.
The hallway is a calm quiet-the sort of quiet Yukwon only found late at night in the dorm, tucked into Minhyuk's bed before Jonghwan-hyung came home, pressing secret kisses to Minhyuk's shoulder, and trying not to make a sound when Minhyuk's fingers caught the ticklish spot between his bottom ribs. Yukwon, looking back on it while Minhyuk opens his door, decides that might have been the time when he should've said yes, hyung. But he never did.
"Hyung," Yukwon calls out to him when Minhyuk rounds the corner into what can only be presumed as his bathroom. Yukwon keeps to himself, awkwardly out-of-place in the center of the foyer, and he hears the sink's tap flick off in the seconds following.
Minhyuk peeks out from behind the doorframe, and the hat has since been discarded. The dark hair, clipped short and steadily growing, reminds him of days past (when there were seven boys training together for one cause). Yukwon wants to pull him close, position his hands in the short hair, and catch him off-guard in all the ways he once did. Minhyuk's been more giving than he ever has, and Yukwon thinks it's time for him to give Minhyuk an answer.
He's been waiting seven years.
"Hyung," he says again. "Minhyuk-hyung." Yukwon clears his throat, looks to the floor where Minhyuk's shoes lay. His sneakers leave wet prints in the flooring. "Could we be in love?"
Minhyuk frowns at him. It pulls his lips further down, moreso than usual, and his brows furrow into this agitated line. Minhyuk doesn't appear angry, though, but Yukwon hasn't seen him in years. What right does he have to even try to read Minhyuk now?
Minhyuk sighs and steps closer to him, but there's still so much space in between (the length of the coffee table, the armrest of the couch, the frame of the television). "We're not," he says, and it's the voice someone uses when they're desperate. Yukwon's heard himself use it, back when Jonghwan-hyung left and didn't come back; when Cho PD sent them all the message, terminating their contracts; when Jiho went to the studio sober and came back to the dorm deadweight against Kyung; when Jaehyo-hyung hugged him one last time before his plane left to Busan; when Minhyuk told him he loved him, and Yukwon ended the phone call.
"I know," Yukwon says, maybe just as desperate-maybe even more. "But," he pauses, and moves his gaze up to meet Minhyuk's eyes. "Could we be?"
His hands shake at his sides, the spittle of fire ignites into an intense flame in his chest, and every nerve-ending in his body sings. He waits for Minhyuk's answer, and he hopes it doesn't take seven more years.
"If you want us to be," he says, and his mouth twitches into this full-blown smile-where his lips peel over his teeth, his eyes seem to light up, and he appears to be the boy that maybe Yukwon had fallen in love with once again.
Yukwon chokes out a cross between a laugh and nerves. The coil in his heart loosens, and it feels much easier to breathe. He finds himself smiling again, with Minhyuk.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
The space between them (the length of the coffee table, the armrest of the couch, the frame of the television) diminishes.
for e. it snowed again today; all I could think about was you ♥
FANDOM block b
PAIRING b-bomb/u-kwon
SUMMARY minhyuk has been waiting for his answer
WORDS 2225
RATING pg
They pass by the building where they used to live.
It still stretches up to the clouds that have been mostly grey since Yukwon first moved to Seoul. The entrace is no longer crowded with men smoking or elderly women gossiping, and it smells more of sawdust and concrete mix than the stale city air which once permeated. Yukwon misses the familiar sight of Ms. Kang walking her dog and the stray cat Kyung refused to let them keep.
Yellow ribbons crisscross over the glass door, and Yukwon peers around Minhyuk’s shoulder in confusion. "Remodeling," Minhyuk tells him when Yukwon lingers a tad longer than he intends. "No one lives here anymore."
It's raining before they reach the end of the block, and Minhyuk's hands do not shield Yukwon's face from the rain like they once did. No, they remain resolutely in his pockets, and his stance is slumped forward, as though there is a weight settling in between his shoulders and pressing down. Yukwon's fingers twitch by his sides, and he moves his smallest finger out to brush the knobby bone of Minhyuk's wrists. Minhyuk has always been on the lithe side, and even the skinny jeans he wears are too large on his thighs.
Have you been eating well? Yukwon would ask, maybe seven years ago after a longer break for Chuseok.
Minhyuk would poke him in the side, possibly laugh off Yukwon’s concern. Not as well as you, obviously.
Yukwon wants to ask him how the military treated him, but he doesn't. He wants to ask him if he settled down in the years following the band's break-up, but he won't. Yukwon wants to ask him if he remembers the year of their debut, all the late-night talks in the main room's floor, the way Jaehyo-hyung believed in them so much, and how much Jiho worked alone or with Kyung to make the music they would sing and no one would buy.
"How have you been?" he asks instead while they wait near the crosswalk.
Minhyuk shrugs, but he does adjust his hat lower on his head when people pass them. They are unknown and irrelevant now, but what has changed?
"Fine," he answers later, after they enter the little café the group used to hold meetings in.
The interior changed over the years-updated to modern society's ideals and expanded to house more customers. It looks emptier now than it used to, when all seven of them had to force themselves into one area and crowd each other's space. Yukwon sits at a table near the window, on the end he always sat, as Minhyuk places an order. He waits for Taeil-hyung to sit next to him, give him that toothy, embarrassed smile Yukwon found comforting, and tell him about his day.
I practiced for only four hours today, he would say, and this displeased frown would edge onto his lips.
It might be winter, so Taeil-hyung's throat would be sore and their medical staff would tell him to take it easy until the next showcase. But it could be summer, when Taeil-hyung's allergies are overly stimulated and he cannot hit the note Jiho wants him to.
It's okay, hyung; you're still the best.
Yukwon would smile at him, place his hand on Taeil-hyung's shoulder, and encourage him in the best way he knew how. Taeil-hyung was strong, though, and he never liked to talk about himself for too long. Jaehyo-hyung would slide into the seat across from him, steal a piece of his dessert, and Taeil-hyung would be grinning again.
Taeil-hyung's no longer in studios, practicing nonstop for five hours everyday, though. No, he's engaged to a pretty noona Yukwon has only ever seen once in a photograph. Yukwon's invitation to the wedding sits on his coffee table, away from all the other junk mail and bills he needs to pay. Jaehyo-hyung keeps in touch with him even when he's busy, calling every Thursday to check in, and he remains the only one Yukwon has been in contact with since the break-up.
Minhyuk orders the original flavor of churros, just like he did years before, and this normalcy sets Yukwon's mind to ease. Minhyuk has never been the best at conversation, always a little too soft when force was needed and quiet when the timing called for loudness, and they used to rely on Jihoon for dinner-time entertainment.
"You weren't there yesterday," Minhyuk says three bites into his churro, but he's looking off somewhere. Possibly the pretty waitress with her hair tied back with a blue ribbon. Minhyuk glances to him-a minute look that means the world and nothing to Yukwon. "Jaehyo said he called you."
Yukwon clinks his spoon in his mug, watches the swirls of tea ground settle in their place, and keeps silent.
"It doesn't matter," Minhyuk acquiesces. "You're here now at least."
The last time they spoke Yukwon had been angry-he never stopped being angry. There was a spittle of fire burning in his chest, a shaking tremor singing through every nerve in his body, and he hated them-Jaehyo-hyung's misplaced optimism, Jiho's leadership, Kyung's stupid jokes, Jihoon's fucking aegyo, and Taeil-hyung's voice humming their songs to an audience of no one.
Hey, Minhyuk had said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders like he had been prone to do. Yukwon shook him off, and Minhyuk had not left him alone even when Yukwon asked.
Yukwon hated Minhyuk the most, and maybe he still does.
"I wanted to come," Yukwon tells him, and the crumbs on the table are more interesting than Minhyuk's eyes. This is a lie. "Something... came up."
When he chances a glance up, Minhyuk's gaze is set on him-not over his shoulders or the faded scribble of Jihoon's name on the wall. No, Minhyuk keeps his eyes on him, serious and open. Yukwon cannot tear his eyes away.
He had seen this look before, only once. Yukwon, tired and sore from one of the final dance practices before their comeback, saw Minhyuk stare at him in the exact same way.
Minhyuk had wiped his sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and then reached to wipe the rest from the underside of his jaw with his plain white tee. Kwon, he whispered, and even in the silence it sounded like a yell.
Yeah?
Minhyuk cleared his throat before kneeling in front of him. Could we be in love?
Yukwon looked at his hands, calloused from playing the chords of Bruno Mars' Lazy Song and tiny notes to wordless tunes. The netizen's hated him, but there was support in the strangest cattycorners of the world. "Stay strong, U-Kwon," they told him, and Cho PD gave him a break. It didn't matter anymore, though; everything was practically over.
Maybe, Yukwon answered. Honest in the way he replied, but, but we're not.
Minhyuk pulled away then, and his posture sloped at that time too. Yukwon never noticed, but this might have been when he began to hate Minhyuk.
Minhyuk smiles now, though. "It wasn't a big deal," he says. His fingernails have grown longer, and he still has the habit of biting his lip when glancing at someone. The bangs are no longer there, shorter from two-years of service, and the hat on his head covers what hasn't grown. He pries a tiny piece from the churro and offers it to Yukwon, who accepts without hesitation. "Everyone was there."
There was no coverage when Lee Minhyuk came back from his military service because Block B's popularity had long been forgotten and fans' faith never lasted long. But there was a small gathering. "Just us seven," Jaehyo-hyung said over the phone, "It'd mean a lot for all of us if you came."
In the airy silence, though, Yukwon had understood that it would mean a lot to Minhyuk had he shown. He only got as far as the end of his street, halfway to hailing a cab, but backed out at the last second.
Jaehyo-hyung once asked him if he saw Minhyuk's show, the one he hosted on MTV after earning his broadcasting degree. Yukwon evaded the question then because it wasn't something he wanted to readily admit. Yes, he turned the television on every Friday night and curled into his worn-in couch. At first it was just to catch a glimpse of Minhyuk, as a way to check-in with old bandmates without ever having to phone or text them.
But-Minhyuk's mouth, curled down at the ends in a permanent frown, and the way he laughed while interviewing guests stayed with Yukwon.
"He doesn't live too far from the old dorm," Jaehyo-hyung said over lunch of samgyupsal-Yukwon ordered it on accident because he remembered it had been Minhyuk's favorite-and steamed rice. "You should visit sometime. He asks about you-when we talk."
"I'm sorry," Yukwon says, but for what-even he doesn't know.
Minhyuk cups the line of his jaw with his left hand, stares out the window to the falling rain, and says, "Don't worry about it." He pauses only long enough to slide a quick glance at the clock near the counter. "Are you busy?"
Yukwon shakes his head.
Minhyuk walks with him to the bus station. The only people on board are school children going home and older women finished with their grocery shopping, and Minhyuk leads them to the back of the bus. He sits with him there, and Yukwon wants to share sticks of candy they aren't supposed to eat because Jonghwan-hyung forbade it. All Yukwon has in his pockets now are loose change and his own hands.
Minhyuk's apartment is opposite their old dorm, and Minhyuk tugs him into the elevator with him. "It's a lot better than taking the stairs, even if it's slow," he says in explanation as he pushes the floor number he lives on.
The hallway is a calm quiet-the sort of quiet Yukwon only found late at night in the dorm, tucked into Minhyuk's bed before Jonghwan-hyung came home, pressing secret kisses to Minhyuk's shoulder, and trying not to make a sound when Minhyuk's fingers caught the ticklish spot between his bottom ribs. Yukwon, looking back on it while Minhyuk opens his door, decides that might have been the time when he should've said yes, hyung. But he never did.
"Hyung," Yukwon calls out to him when Minhyuk rounds the corner into what can only be presumed as his bathroom. Yukwon keeps to himself, awkwardly out-of-place in the center of the foyer, and he hears the sink's tap flick off in the seconds following.
Minhyuk peeks out from behind the doorframe, and the hat has since been discarded. The dark hair, clipped short and steadily growing, reminds him of days past (when there were seven boys training together for one cause). Yukwon wants to pull him close, position his hands in the short hair, and catch him off-guard in all the ways he once did. Minhyuk's been more giving than he ever has, and Yukwon thinks it's time for him to give Minhyuk an answer.
He's been waiting seven years.
"Hyung," he says again. "Minhyuk-hyung." Yukwon clears his throat, looks to the floor where Minhyuk's shoes lay. His sneakers leave wet prints in the flooring. "Could we be in love?"
Minhyuk frowns at him. It pulls his lips further down, moreso than usual, and his brows furrow into this agitated line. Minhyuk doesn't appear angry, though, but Yukwon hasn't seen him in years. What right does he have to even try to read Minhyuk now?
Minhyuk sighs and steps closer to him, but there's still so much space in between (the length of the coffee table, the armrest of the couch, the frame of the television). "We're not," he says, and it's the voice someone uses when they're desperate. Yukwon's heard himself use it, back when Jonghwan-hyung left and didn't come back; when Cho PD sent them all the message, terminating their contracts; when Jiho went to the studio sober and came back to the dorm deadweight against Kyung; when Jaehyo-hyung hugged him one last time before his plane left to Busan; when Minhyuk told him he loved him, and Yukwon ended the phone call.
"I know," Yukwon says, maybe just as desperate-maybe even more. "But," he pauses, and moves his gaze up to meet Minhyuk's eyes. "Could we be?"
His hands shake at his sides, the spittle of fire ignites into an intense flame in his chest, and every nerve-ending in his body sings. He waits for Minhyuk's answer, and he hopes it doesn't take seven more years.
"If you want us to be," he says, and his mouth twitches into this full-blown smile-where his lips peel over his teeth, his eyes seem to light up, and he appears to be the boy that maybe Yukwon had fallen in love with once again.
Yukwon chokes out a cross between a laugh and nerves. The coil in his heart loosens, and it feels much easier to breathe. He finds himself smiling again, with Minhyuk.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
The space between them (the length of the coffee table, the armrest of the couch, the frame of the television) diminishes.
for e. it snowed again today; all I could think about was you ♥