Icarus || ATEEZ Wingfic (Seongjoong centric)

The Defence Directorate

The yells and pounding of fists on the door did little to deter Seonghwa as he finished his phone call. He had locked himself in San's room with the avian and his phone.

Just like back at the museum, he would hold him until help arrived, even if it endangered him.

All of San's protesting caused the winged warrior to stir, his wings instinctively sprouting out in defence against the human in the room as he scrambled back into the farthest corner of the bed.

He awoke just as Seonghwa hung up, and didn't appear to know what he had just done.

Seonghwa didn't dare move, the sneaking feeling of his own guilt beginning to creep up his throat as Hongjoong gave him that look again, the guarded one that couldn't help but let a spark of vulnerability through.

"Good morning," he said quietly, wings dropping slightly, the left one struggling around its tender wound. There was a great deal of hesitation in his voice but he was polite.

Seonghwa didn't answer and instead surveyed the room.

One of his paintings was on the desk. The one with the flock of birds flying over the ocean, and a distant avian watching them from above the clouds. He had painted it one night in a flash of inspiration and loved it too much to sell it to anyone.

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong in confusion, wondering why it had been brought out, and the avian chuckled and rubbed his neck.

"San showed me your art," he explained simply. Seonghwa began to wonder what else San had done last night. Hongjoong was looking at him curiously. "Why do you paint avians?"

Seonghwa was so stunned it took him a good minute to think of a response. "Well, I always... always liked fantasy and the ancient winged warriors seemed like part of that." Why was he even answering him?

Hongjoong's face darkened, whether out of displeasure or memory, he couldn't tell. "The Directorate would have you believe we're happy to have our wings clipped," he pointed out. "I assumed you would agree... but you depict our pain."

"I-I don't know, it just seemed representative of the old stories but that's all they are," he insisted, still flustered but set on defending himself. "It just... happened."

He waited to be called a hypocrite. That's what he was, come to think of it. To marvel at the old fantastical tales and still despise the avians he met in modern times.

But Hongjoong didn't need to say anything  else to him. He could tell he was fighting with himself and silently observed it, still perched on the bed like Seonghwa might attack him at any moment.

He suddenly regretted calling Yunho.

While he stood there in a daze, Hongjoong finally demanded answers from him.

"Was it avian-associated trauma? Is that why you hate my people so much? Or are you jealous, is that the reason?"

"I don't know why," he admitted softly, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. "That's what scares me the most. That everything I grew up believing... could be completely wrong."

Before Hongjoong could say anything else,  Seonghwa turned away and opened the door for a still yelling San. Wooyoung had joined him, most likely also unable to sleep in with all the ruckus in the hallway.

Both drew up and waited for the confession.

"They're on their way."

"Hyung!" Wooyoung moaned in exasperation. "I thought we agreed to—"

"You said to wait until morning, and I did," Seonghwa cut him off hotly. "You said we could turn him in later, so we have. Why are you so adamant in making this crisis go on longer?"