Feat. Hongki and Jonghoon, references to past Wonbin and Hongki
R for fairly vague man-love, and oh god the angst.
Disclaimer: No profit, don’t own, for entertainment only
Notes: So this is the first real attempt I've made at a serious, post-worthy fic since I lost my muse... I hope it's at least tolerable X_X. It's also my first time writing FTI, but please don't expect much for keeping them in character, as this fic absolutely oozes angst. One more also, it's presently untitled, and so if anyone would be kind enough to offer up a few suggestions I'd be very grateful, and would put your name here in the notes with a word of thanks.
- "Watashi wa Ame"
"How long are you going to stay there like that?" Jonghoon's words came in a whisper, his breath misting in the chilled morning air. The sky was dark, a steely grey despite the sun having risen only hours before, and already the dreary drizzle had made no sign of letting up any time soon, as if reflecting everything he knew Hongki held in his heart. His silhouette was striking, so beautiful in a way that tugged on the strings of Jonghoon's heart as he looked on at the other, there on the small balcony gripping the wrought iron rail, ignorant of the way the cold metal bit at his skin. Receiving no answer the guitarist stepped forward, a gentle hand coming to rest on the moistened fabric of Hongki's shirt hoping to offer him any comfort he could. Even just this much closer he could see the goosebumps on the older male's arms, hairs standing on end in protest to the cold, and he wondered exactly how long the vocalist had been there for before he'd woken up and found him.
"Hongki, please," he said softly, talent-blessed fingers slowly trailing down the other's back, almost able to feel the iced skin beneath through the fabric. "Please," he repeated again, his tone pleading. "You'll make yourself sick, standing out here." Though it was already well into March the weather had yet to yeild to spring, the snow only having just washed away, and he could only imagine the torment Hongki was putting his body through. "Hongki-" His voice was stronger now, demanding, and although reluctant, he was finally met with a response as the vocalist's head turned, the sight clenching his heart in an unrelenting vice. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, perhaps for the other to be crying, for even that would be better than the sheer heartbreak he found in the other's dark eyes.
"I'd like to stand out here for a bit longer, if I could..." Though having spoken only barely above a murmur, the detachment in Hongki's voice caused Jonghoon's breath to catch in his throat. He'd never seen the other in such a state before, and it overwhelmed him, bringing a burn to the back of his throat that he had to smother down as he shook his head.
"You can't," Jonghoon replied, his tone once again almost pleading, wishing the other could see what he was doing to himself; what he was doing to Jonghoon. "Look at you, Hongki- you're as pale as a ghost." His voice wavered as he spoke, gentle eyes entreating. "You've got to be frozen to the bone, by now." His hands shifted, coming to smooth over the older male's arms, frigid beneath his warm touch. "Please just come inside with me, just to the bedroom. You don't have to see anyone else if you don't want to, but please, just get out of the cold." His hands closed over the other's, gently pulling his grip away from the railing, relieved to feel no resistance. "Thank you," he breathed, and keeping the other close he began to lead him into his bedroom.
A shiver ran down Hongki's spine as the warmth of the room washed over him, the sudden temperature change making his skin prickle as if it was on fire, and the cool breeze from outside was almost welcome until the glass door was slid shut, sealing him in to endure the heat. His eyes followed Jonghoon's every move, silent as the guitarist left the room with a pained glance back at him. Only moments later he was returning, a thick white towel in hand as he stepped up before the other once more.
"I'll be amazed if you don't come down with the flu," he murmured, his voice low and soft as he began to dab at the vocalist's face with the towel. His hair was only just sticking to his face, small beads of moisture lingering at the ends of the strands to roll down his neck till they were absorbed into the cotton of his teeshirt. Just as tenderly he rubbed these away, patting him dry with a soft smile that he hoped was more reassuring than what he felt inside. He knew that anything he did would only just soothe the surface, but it made no difference when Hongki's true pain lingered far deeper in a place. He wished he could hate the person who had done this to his best friend, but he knew he'd never be able to bring himself to. The other guitarist had acted on what he thought was right in his heart, and Jonghoon could only be there to help keep what remained behind from crumbling once they'd said their goodbyes, for his and Hongki's words of parting had been far deeper rooted.
Jonghoon's eyes met Hongki's as he smoothed the towel over his damp hair, and for the second time he felt his breath catch. Though the vocalist was looking at him, he felt that his gaze was so far away, and he would've given anything in that moment to be able to bring back the warmth he'd seen in the other's eyes so many times before. He ached for one of his smiles, wide and toothy and shameless, slowly the towel slipped from his hand, falling to the floor with a dull thump. Slender fingers slid into the shorter male's long, unruly hair, and he could see the flicker of surprise in his gaze as he drew him forth. He cared not of how the moisture that clung to Hongki's clothes threatened to seep into his as well as he held him to close that they were nose to nose. His lips parted slightly, and Hongki's followed suit, his expression questioning but not refusing.
"Jonghoon-" he whispered, his voice as soft as the breeze outside, and before he could say more the guitarist had pulled him forward to cover his lips with his own. He couldn't recall how many times he'd thought of this, claiming Hongki's sweet, smiling lips as his own, only to have stood back and watched as Wonbin draped an arm about the gentle sloping curve of the vocalist's waist. He was gone now and he wanted to seize the opportunity as his own, but he knew the other was far from forgotten in Hongki's heart. He could feel the guilt resting as dead weight on the bottom of his stomach, unable to help but think that he was taking advantage of Hongki while he was in such a fragile state, but those feelings were abruptly shoved out of his mind as he felt the other's lips move against his own. His heart leapt, suddenly racing so fast that he was sure the other would feel it, but it didn't keep him from pulling the singer in closer to himself as those plush tiers parted beneath his own.
He wasn't sure how it had happened, his hands moving from Hongki's hair to the hem of his shirt, slipping beneath it to touch the still cool skin beneath. It was just as he would've imagined, soft and smooth and flawless, and a murmur of pleasure rumbled deep in his throat. He wanted to warm his skin with his touch, chase away every bit of chill that lingered, and soon the vocalist's shirt was bunching beneath his arms, an obstacle that was soon discarded to lay on the floor. Jonghoon's joining moments later. Still numb fingertips pressed into the taller male's shoulders as he fumbled with the fastenings of Hongki's jeans, each passing moment only growing more desperate till he'd finally pulled the button free, and he could only breathe his elder's name as he felt his mouth hot and moist upon his throat.
It seemed to only take seconds for the two to find themselves upon the bed, comforters plush and inviting, though not nearly inviting as each other's bodies as hands caught at undergarments unceremoniously, lips moving over skin haphazardly. Hongki's thighs were supple beneath his hands, and pliant as they parted to make way for him, his touch never straying from his body even as Jonghoon moved into position, and then they were pressing in hard, lacquered fingernails leaving dull crescent-moons in their wake. He could feel the desperation in Hongki's touch as their bodies moved together, and Jonghoon loved that feeling of being needed by the other, being the only one for him who could soothe the ache in his heart. The sounds that slipped from his lover's mouth were beautiful, moreso than even when he sang, breath-taking crescendos of pleasure that drew him closer till he could feel the heat gathering deep in the pit of his stomach. Feeling the other's body grip him, his hips jerked forward, lips parted in a silent moan as he heard very distinctly a whimper that made his heart wrench, as Wonbin's name was mewled in the vocalist's sweet voice.
It was all it took to send Jonghoon's fantasy crashing down around him, and he could only look at the other with wide eyes as he lay beneath him, beautiful features still fixed in pleasure. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, and slowly, he pulled away from the other, only able to get as far as onto his back. His legs felt boneless beneath him, and it made his eyes sting as all he wanted to do was get away from that moment. Vaguely he could hear as gradually Hongki's breathing settled, and then the shifting of the mattress as he crawled over, reaching off the bed for the towel that lay nearby. He only took a moment before offering the towel to the other, his gaze unreadable, though there was a flicker of something apologetic in his dark eyes that only made Jonghoon's heart ache, because he knew. Even so he accepted the towel, wiping away the remnants of the encounter as if it had never happened, if only it were so easy to wipe away the deep gouge in his heart. There was silence for a seemingly endless period of time as Hongki settled beneath the sheets, and Jonghoon could feel his gaze on him, unrelenting as he kept his own fixed up towards the ceiling. Distantly it seemed Hongki was moving once again, bringing the sheets up to cover him as well, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the other even as the older male's hand slid over his arm in some attempt at comforting him.
"Jonghoon-" he started, his voice cracking, but Jonghoon found himself sitting up almost mechanically, lips parting to speak of their own accord.
"No, it's okay," he heard himself saying, and then he was moving from the bed, reaching for his clothing and dressing quickly even though it was anything but okay. Looking over his shoulder once his shirt was in place, he offered Hongki a reassuring smile, the wound in his heart only getting deeper, the knife wedged in there twisting without sympathy. "So long as you feel better." He supposed he had let his heart get the better of him, cruelly deceiving him into thinking that somehow Hongki might feel anything for him when he was still so distraught over the loss of his last lover. He couldn't hold the blame on the other, when he in a way had taken advantage of his vulnerable state, and the thought made the tears prickle like glass in his eyes once again as he turned away. Heading to the door without looking back, he didn't see the same tears reflected in Hongki's eyes, his fingers balled into the sheets the draped over his body, silently begging him to stay.