Never will he ever (oneshot)

[qiguai]

Title: Never will he ever
Pairing: Kan/Leeu
Word Count: 1969
Rating: PG
Warnings: language, alcohol
Summary: Seunghyun wants to be lied to.
Notes: Written in celebration of dragging the lovely unactivist into the wonderful world of F.Cuz. Inspired by this prompt.

There is the strong smell of alcohol as someone accidentally tips the contents of a shot glass, which had been passing gradually through the crowd to whomever had ordered it, down Seunghyun's front. Despite knowing that this shirt costs more than it should, considering how flimsy the thin material is, he just stares at the stain with a small smile and chuckles, the sound drowning in the heavy bass and shouts of the dancers around him. "Sorry about that," someone apologizes quite unconvincingly into his ear. He feels a body press close against his from behind and leans into the touch. Hands touch his sides as if asking for some kind of permission, but eventually retreat when he fails to react. Typical, these people never stick around long when offered a challenge, not when there are plenty of much easier targets ready to get on their knees right there on the dance floor. Almost as soon as one leaves, another appears. A pretty set of heavily-done eyes appear in front of him accompanied by a smile that's charming enough. She looks at him steady, curious and questioning. A manicured hand presses a napkin to the stain spreading across his shoulder and he nods his thanks. Before she can go, he very slowly presses a hand against the side of her face and watches her expression change. Her eyes light up as she grows hopeful and her arm twitches, noticeable only because he's looking for it, as if she wants to place her hand on his. Part of him wishes she would, but instead she looks down shyly with her pretty eyelashes and tiny, sparkling earrings. He wants to hold her close and tell her to go because someone like her doesn't belong in a place like this, but then again, he doesn't belong here either. Instead he gives her a polite bow of the head and moves on, quickly disappearing through the crowd of rhythmically shifting bodies. He can practically feel her disappointed gaze on him, but it's an easy enough feeling to shake off. Disappointment is the usual reaction he gets and not just when he goes out. The truth is, he hates night clubs, bars and all of the other dirty, sweaty places like them. Usually he hates being pushed around, crammed in between people and usually he would never tolerate some of the inappropriate, bordering on molestation levels of touching involved, but there is nothing usual about nights like these. On nights like these, he welcomes the stifling throng of anonymous faces and hands and arms and lets himself become swept away in it. Only as part of this anonymity does he feel that he actually belongs to something. Only when he's a nobody does he feel wanted. "Welcome back," Yejun greets Seunghyun as he steps through the door. He almost asks what Yejun is doing up so late, but decides it's not worth it. Lately they've had a few days to relax and what Yejun chooses to do with that time is up to him. Plus, the boy always gets cranky when any of his hyungs treat him like the baby he is. He plops onto the couch by Yejun's feet and glances at the cover of the magazine Yejun is reading, but finds nothing of interest. "Did I miss anything?" he asks with a yawn. Yejun doesn't glance up from the pages. "Not really. Jinchul-hyung went out earlier, too, but got back about two hours ago. I think he's on the computer. Younghak has been practicing all day and got back only a few minutes before you." He laughs. "That guy needs to learn how to relax." "Dancing is how he relaxes," Yejun replies with a half-shrug. Seunghyun blinks and recoils a bit, wanting to huff and insist he knew that, because he did, but he doesn't because he knows that the conversation will head down a path he doesn't like. After a moment, he asks, "Is he asleep?" "He went to the bedroom, so I assume so." Grabbing for the pillow at Yejun's feet, he makes to smack the magnae with it but stops at the last minute. After glaring at the magazine for what feels like forever, with no reaction from his friend, Seunghyun lurches to his feet with a huff. "Tell Younghak I cleaned up the kitchen like he asked," Yejun calls over his shoulder and Seunghyun resists the urge to pull his own hair out in frustration. As he tiptoes to the bedroom he spies Jinchul on the computer, completely absorbed in whatever he's doing. "I'm home," he says quietly, but doesn't expect a reply and doesn't get one. Jinchul stopped worrying about Seunghyun's late arrivals even before Yejun did. The silence in the dorm is deafening as he clicks open the bedroom door as quietly as he can in order to not disturb the apparent peace. The room inside is just as silent as the halls outside, and at first Seunghyun thinks that Yejun must have been mistaken, but then he spies Younghak sitting quietly inside the cave that is his bunk bed. Camera in hand, he looks up with a beaming smile as Seunghyun enters. "You're home!" he says with obvious pleasure and the guilty pangs in Seunghyun's chest start, right on time. He nods and joins Younghak in the cramped space of the bottom bunk. Immediately Younghak leans forward and shows him what he'd been looking at- photos of a tall building with reflective glass windows and a bright pink and yellow sunset. They're beautiful photos, but Seunghyun doesn't dare say as much. Nonetheless, Younghak continues to smile. "I took these today during my break. The sky looked so nice, I wanted to show you." Seunghyun flushes, looks away, and wonders how in the hell anyone could be so incredibly direct. The camera isn't taken away until Seunghyun finally nods and coughs awkwardly in his throat. Younghak sets the camera down gently as if handling a baby or the holy grail before returning his attention to Seunghyun. "You were out late again," he says, quickly adding, "Did you have fun?" "It was alright," he answers and a lump forms in his throat as Younghak stares down at his hands. "Yejun says you practiced all day?" he asks, but his voice goes unusually high at the end. His words manage to perk his friend up though, and he nods enthusiastically. He grabs Seunghyun around the waist with one arm and pulls him back until they're lying rather uncomfortably across the middle of the small bed. "Next time you should come with me," he breathes against the side of Seunghyun's face. Seunghyun hesitates, but finally rests a hand on the arm around him. "Maybe I will," he whispers and worries Younghak didn't hear him. The arm pulls him in tighter and he hears Younghak take a few deep breaths. He chuckles. "You stink, hyung." Seunghyun frowns and pinches Younghak's arm. "Someone spilled their drink on me," he grumbles and Younghak makes a noncomittal sound. "It happens all the time, since everyone is so close together..." He doesn't know why he mentions it, but he feels he needs to prove something. Younghak just grunts again, but he also buries his face against Seunghyun's neck. "Ah," Seunghyun sighs, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. "Those places are so gross. All those trashy people, and they're always touching everyone." "If you don't like it, don't go," Younghak mumbles near Seunghyun's ear. For a few seconds Seunghyun worries that Younghak can feel the way his heart throbs at those words. "Do you not want me to go?" "I want you to do what you want to do." The response is so automatic. Seunghyun closes his eyes and feels a migraine coming on. He wants to push away Younghak's arm and scream but doesn't. Instead he links his fingers with Younghak and squeezes them a little too tightly, not that Younghak protests. "If you don't want me to go, I won't go." A sigh, more tired than anything. "Go if you want to." "But if it bothers you, I won't." "Just do whatever you want, hyung," Younghak groans and detaches himself. Seunghyun's side suddenly feels cold as the younger boy rolls over to face the opposite direction. "Aren't you tired?" But he doesn't want to let the subject drop, not this time. Not when he's given up every other night he's come so close to getting an answer. "Does it bother you?" "Does what bother me?" he yawns back. "That I go out like this," he insists, letting just a bit of whine sneak into his voice. The change in tone is affective in that Younghak rolls back over and hugs him again, but the only emotion Seunghyun can read in his face is exhaustion and maybe the barest trace of confusion. He puts his hand on either side of Younghak's face and makes him look into his eyes, but Younghak chuckles and looks down shyly. "I worry that you're not sleeping enough," he finally answers. He puts a hand over Seunghyun's, still holding his face, and smiles sleepily. "You're always so tired." Yanking his hand away, Seunghyun crosses his arms over his chest. "So you don't mind when I go out?" Younghak glances off to the side. "As long as you stay healthy." "As long as I sleep, you don't care?" A hurt look and Younghak kisses his forehead. "Of course I care," he whispers. Seunghyun shakes his head and bites his lip. He shoves Younghak away and sits up because for once he absolutely doesn't want those kind, gentle touches. He wishes Younghak were the violent, angry type. The jealous type. The type who waits in the foyer for him all night and demands the details of where he's been, whom he's been with, what he's done. He feels hands on his arms, his shoulders, and they pull at him in a silent plea, but never hard enough to force him when what he really wants is to be forced. "Sorry," he says harshly, but slaps away a hand that goes for his face. The slap stings. Not daring to look at his friend's face, he reaches out for whatever part of Younghak is closest and pulls him back down into the bed. He knows he should shower, change, or at the very least wash his face, but as soon as Younghak locks his arms around his waist, he doesn't think he could leave again even if he wanted to. One last time he mutters, "If it bothers you, I won't go." This time Younghak doesn't reply, but answers with a rough peck on the cheek. Seunghyun doesn't need the answer, he knows that, because every time he asks he can feel it in how Younghak hugs him when he gets home. He can see it in the way Younghak only glances at the rips or stains Seunghyun returns with, and he can hear it in how the only question Younghak ever asks is "Did you have fun?" Just once, he wants to be lied to. He wants Younghak to say, "I don't care," or "It doesn't bother me." A simple lie would make Younghak the same as everyone else and his feelings as easy to brush off as the feelings of those sweet girls Seunghyun meets in the bars. But Younghak doesn't lie and he doesn't tell the truth either. He edges closer and closer to the edge without ever letting himself waver and topple over. All Seunghyun needs is a lie and he can let everything- the hugs, the kisses, the painful new feelings growing more awkward and convoluted by the day- go, and maybe then he and Younghak could return to normal. The problem is, Younghak never lies.

I suck at angst, I apologize.
Michele, Ilu. ♥