“Past time has no meaning for us; it’s not enough” – ONE OK ROCK
Heechul is a flurry of self-righteous anger and hidden disappointment, of laughter that strives to be bright but ends up landing somewhere near self-deprecating. He is contradiction and everything abnormally beautiful. Most of all, he’s broken.
Siwon doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t pretend to. It’s not his place to ask questions Heechul can’t answer, to make the older man think and come to conclusions he will probably never share with the others. Siwon isn’t supposed to notice things like the guilt covered by Heechul’s perfectly pieced-together fury, nor should he be the one to see the tear tracks and red eyes, to hear the quiet sobs under the thunderous spray of water against the shower doors.
He’s not supposed to, but he does. And no one else is here to stake any kind of claim, not anymore.
He tells himself he’s just doing what any friend would as he slips quietly into a dark room and pulls the shaking, sobbing man to his chest. He whispers reassurances until Heechul all but screams at him to leave, then he starts singing.
It won’t help, but at least he can say he’s trying.
“And it’s not like it hurts much anyway” – The Academy Is…
Sometimes, Hyukjae thinks it would be easier on everyone if Kibum were to just leave. Sometimes, meaning the nights when he feels his mattress dip beside him and he’s suddenly got a lapful of desperate, writhing Donghae whispering hot words against his mouth about false hope and nothing lasting forever. He curses Kibum silently and wonders how long this is going to keep up, how many more nights he’s going to have to console Donghae with sharp teeth that leave bruises along pale skin because that’s what Donghae thinks he needs.
He wonders how many more nights he’s going to allow himself to give in.