Chanel's Fics

White Line - SeKai

WHITE LINE

the day sehun left jongin, jongin stood standing in the pouring rain.

it'd been years since that day – but the streak ended that night, under circumstances neither would ever have imagined.

sehun's perched on a curb a few yards away from the makeshift stage, slim cigarette between slim lips. after all these years, the nicotine still doesn't seem to sit well in his lungs, but he doesn't want to give it up. it's the only thing he seems to be able to control.

he toys with the guitar pick in his hands, the pads of his fingers running along the edge of the pick.

hey, aren't you the lead singer for White Line? you guys are really great.

sehun takes the cigarette off his lips and glances up slowly. no, that's luhan. i'm the guitarist.

the teenage boy – wannabe skater, sehun thinks – laughs awkwardly.

right, yeah, you two look alike, so i –

yeah, i get that a lot, sehun interrupts, taking another drag of the cancer stick.

the teen hovers around for an uncomfortable second before hurrying away. sehun licks his lips and crushes out his half-finished cigarette oh the sidewalk. he's about to stand and head back towards the performers' tent when he hears footsteps behind him, softly crushing dried leaves. the weight of those footsteps strike a chord in him.

didn't think i'd find you here.

sehun tightens his jaw and looks straight ahead.

what are you doing here.

why did you leave?

sehun straightens stiffly before turning to face jongin. you never gave me a reason to stay.

sehun brushes past jongin with more force than necessary, shoulders clashing. jongin winces when the sharp edge of sehun's shoulder digs into his collarbone. when sehun disappears from sight, jongin swears under his breath and turns to punch the bark of a tree. the scratches on his knuckles go unnoticed as he trudges back to the performers' tent in sehun's wake.








the rush in the tent is suffocating. jongin grimaces as girls in leather pants and cans of hairspray in their hair slither up to him just to get past. jongin discovers eyeliner drawn across his arms and a smudge of bright pink lipstick on his finger, and he doesn’t even bother wondering how they got there. grabbing a tissue to rub all the makeup off, he heads over to where the rest of his band’s sitting. nudging taemin over with his knee, jongin squeezes into the spot between taemin and the makeshift wall. he’s too busy trying to get kohl off his forearm to notice that the conversation between his bandmates have stilled just a little. jongin realizes what’s going on when he hears zitao’s fake cough and when he smells a whiff of cologne that’s a little too familiar for his liking. by the time he looks up, sehun’s halfway across the tent, his coiffed, dark blonde hair standing out amongst the jet black heads around him. jongin sees sehun elbow a short guitarist not-so-gently in the ribs and sighs.

he’s still not over it, is he? taemin asks, and jongin knows he’s trying to make it sound nonchalant.

obviously not, jongin replies, voice clipped.








sehun finds himself outside the tent again, fingers wrapped tight around the lighter in his pocket. someone nudges him on the shoulder and he shrugs the hand off. luhan slaps sehun on the cheek lightly before pulling him back towards the tent. snap out of it, luhan orders, we can’t afford to have you screw up out there. sehun eyes luhan before rolling his eyes and sitting down next to wufan. he watches wufan SPIN his drumsticks around and through his fingers for a long time before he groans and drops his head onto luhan’s shoulder. luhan pats his head sympathetically. chanyeol’s hand appears before his face, fingers clutching a can of cold beer. a drop of condensation lands on his thigh and seeps through the fabric. sehun tips his head back, and catches a grin on chanyeol’s face. he accepts the drink with a chuckle, and allows the alcohol to soothe his nerves.

the clock hanging crookedly on a makeshift wall announces that it’s eight. sehun drains the can and crushes it up the same time the presenter yells that the festival’s about to begin. next to him, wufan cracks his knuckles as the crowd roars. sehun runs his bottom lip through his teeth a few times before standing. luhan pulls him back down. sehun’s about to open his mouth in confusion when luhan shushes him.

it dawns on sehun why luhan didn’t want him standing and sticking out in the crowd when jongin and the rest of his band passes them to get outside the tent.

are they up first? sehun asks. luhan nods. sehun makes a noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat. he feels the gazes of his bandmates on the back of his head, but that doesn’t stop him from standing – dodging luhan’s attempt to stop him – and darting past other bands to get to the entrance of the tent. finding a spot between two trees in the shadows, sehun stays standing there, hands in pockets and back a little hunched. his eyes glimmer in the dark, and when the first note of the song reaches his ears, sehun bites back a snarl and stalks back into the tent, nearly knocking over a few stray audience members along the way. luhan spots him the moment he re-enters the tent, and grabs him by the forearm.

that bastard –

i know, i hear it, luhan interrupts.








nice song choice, wufan calls out when jongin’s band returns from their stage. jongin has the decency to flush, but zitao pushes jongin forward and turns to glare at wufan, who returns the gaze with one of equal intensity. sehun rests his hand on wufan’s shoulder. don’t bother. we won’t see them again after today anyway, he mutters.








sehun slides his guitar pick between his thumb and forefinger a few times as baekhyun tunes his guitar. he exchanges glances with luhan, who gives him an encouraging nod and a smile before turning back to the microphone standing just an inch away from his lips. sehun shifts his gaze to chanyeol, who’s rocking out to an imaginary beat in his head, and to wufan, who’s SPINNING a drumstick with such speed that sehun’s afraid it might take someone’s head off if it flies out of wufan’s grasp. sehun adjusts the guitar strip resting on his shoulder and licks his lips. he lets his eyes roam over the audience, taking in rocker girls with heavily lined eyes and neon hair, and rocker boys ranging from lanky and pierced to overweight and dreadlocked. his gaze falls on the spot he was standing in just moments ago, and feels the blood in his veins freeze.

he does a quick calculation in his head, and realizes it’s been four years since jongin has heard him play. sehun purses his lips, turns slightly away from jongin’s line of sight, and glances at baekhyun, silently urging him to finish tuning up. baekhyun sends him an apologetic glance. finally, he hears wufan’s drumsticks signaling the start of the song, and his fingers press a little too hard onto the guitar strings. he doesn’t feel the pain, however. the first strum of his guitar has adrenaline shooting into his heart and a smirk gracing his face. luhan’s voice mixed with baekhyun’s ad-libs and the crowd’s screaming gets him riled up even more, and before he knows it, he’s hamming it up upstage, luhan’s back pressing up against his, and his smirk widens when high pitched shrieks hit his ears. he chances a glance at where jongin should be standing, and when he sees jongin’s face, he resists the urge to fist pump the air.

jongin’s looking at him with a mixture of shock, regret, and something else sehun can’t quite place. turning back to luhan and the audience, sehun decides that he really couldn’t give a damn.








luhan’s hand is warm around his waist as they take their bow. sehun tosses his guitar pick into the crowd and watches with mild amusement as a couple of girls dive for it, one nearly clawing the other’s eyes out. chanyeol jumps down the small FLIGHT of steps leading from the stage to the ground, and baekhyun joins him with a laugh, nearly crashing into the small of chanyeol’s back. luhan follows, taking the steps two at a time, and sehun joins wufan in bringing up the rear. wufan turns the corner towards the tent first, leaving sehun alone and up for grabs.

jongin fastens his hand around sehun’s upper arm and manhandles him into the empty parking lot. sehun’s about to fend jongin off with a possible punch to the face when jongin pushes him up against a car and forcefully presses his lips against the other’s. sehun grabs the back of jongin’s shirt and attempts to pull jongin off him, but jongin clutches on tighter, the hands around sehun’s face not budging whatsoever. sehun decides on crushing jongin’s foot instead. jongin stifles a yell and jumps back.

the fuck do you think you’re doing? sehun demands, voice low. he resists the urge to run his tongue across his lips. jongin swallows; sehun catches the movement of his adam’s apple in the glow of the streetlamp. you’ve gotten a lot better, jongin says instead, choosing to ignore sehun’s question. sehun’s eyes flash.yeah? well that happens in four years. bet you didn’t expect that when you tossed me aside for taemin. jongin chews on his lip and runs a hand through his stiff hair. sehun –

sehun holds up a hand. don’t even bother, jongin. jongin falls silent. sehun really wants to turn around and leave at this point, but he finds his feet firmly rooted to the ground. jongin’s gaze draws sehun’s to his, and as much as sehun tries to look away, he fails. can you leave, please, sehun mutters, desperation seeping into his voice. jongin shakes his head and takes a step forward. sehun tries to back away, but the car blocks his attempt. sehun thinks a brick would come in handy right about now.

jongin’s gaze flickers down towards sehun’s lips, and by the time his gaze returns to sehun’s eyes, sehun’s face is an inch away from his. jongin doesn’t hesitate. hands claw at the bases of necks, and jongin pushes his tongue past sehun’s lips, tasting a tinge of nicotine along with a sweetness that only belongs to sehun. sehun makes a noise that’s between a whine and a moan and jongin presses his body closer to sehun’s, one hand dropping down to grip at sehun’s hip.

a particularly loud clash of cymbals in the distance has them jumping apart from each other. sehun pushes his mussed up hair out of his forehead and jongin thumbs at his lips. um, jongin starts, but sehun’s already turning away. that was a mistake, jongin, sehun says, looking over his shoulder. sorry. for the second time, jongin doesn’t try and stop sehun from leaving.








the next time they meet, they’re both eight months older, and they’re both at the front steps of the company that they had signed record deals with. sehun reaches the door first, and he darts inside before jongin can call out to him. he finds his band in a practice room – not practicing – with wufan attempting to juggle four drumsticks at once. jongin’s band is signed to the same company as us? sehun says, bursting into the room. luhan glances up at him from where he’s splayed out on the small couch. they are? sehun shuts the door behind him and takes a seat on wufan’s vacated drummer’s stool. i just saw him outside the building. baekhyun makes a face at chanyeol and they burst into laughter. sehun rolls his eyes. can you two not? shutting up, chanyeol pats him on the head. sehun’s about to poke chanyeol in the ribs – where he’s ridiculously ticklish – when the door opens.

jongin’s standing in the door way, a hand on the doorknob and the other shoved in his back pocket. can i – he says, but sehun cuts him off. no. chanyeol’s eyes widen. baekhyun scoots closer to luhan on the couch, and wufan stops his juggling to watch, just in case a fistfight should break out and they need to be pulled apart. sehun, i just – sehun stands and walks over to the door.leave. he pushes on the door in an attempt to get jongin out of the practice room, but jongin sticks his foot into the crack and says, i’m not leaving till i get you to talk to me. something in sehun’s forehead twitches. fine, then i’ll leave.

stepping around jongin’s foot, sehun heads down the hall. jongin swears and slams the door to the practice room shut behind him as he follows. jongin half jogs, half walks to catch up with sehun, and finally reaches his side as sehun opens the main door of the building. let me go, sehun says, attempting to wrench his arm out of jongin’s grasp. jongin, of course, refuses to let him go, so sehun closes his eyes, turns around, and drives his fist straight into jongin’s jaw. jongin doubles over, simultaneously releasing sehun. sehun pulls his arm back, but when jongin doesn’t stand up after a few seconds, sehun sighs and gently hits jongin’s hands away from his jaw. let me see, he mutters, grasping jongin’s face gingerly and turning it to the side.

it’s bruised but you’ll be fine if you ice it, he says and retracts his hand, crossing his arms. jongin gingerly rubs at his jaw, and leans against the wall with a sigh. i know you probably hate me, he starts, and there’s really no excuse for what i’ve done. sehun crooks his eyebrow, and jongin’s heart twists a little, because four years ago, that little motion always meant that jongin was acting like a stupid fool but sehun still loved him anyways. taemin quit, jongin says, because he thinks that i regret pushing you out of the band and he doesn’t want to be the reason why there’s a look of regret on my face every day. sehun looks from his feet to jongin’s face before he opens his mouth. you’ll find someone else, i’m sure.

sehun leaves jongin behind with a bruised jaw and a matching bruised heart.








sehun arranges a practice schedule with their manager so that his path doesn’t cross with jongin’s. as the two discuss what the schedule would look like, baekhyun leans into luhan’s personal space and whispers isn’t this going a little too far? surprisingly, luhan finds himself nodding solemnly. baekhyun promptly goes back to what he was doing when sehun returns. we have practice monday, thursday, and saturday. after everyone acknowledges that, sehun picks up his notebook, heads into a corner and sits. an hour later, his notebook has three additional pages of lyrics about assholes and how romance is dead. wufan resists the urge to wince when he reads them. the manager, on the other hand, claps sehun on the shoulder and declares that it’s great mainstream rock material, keep writing. sehun shoots their manager a stiff smile and plucks his notebook back from his hands. that won’t be hard to do, he mutters, i’ve got lots of inspiration.

sehun ends up churning out lyrics like A MACHINE, so by the time the week ends, they’ve got enough songs to fit into two albums. they’re in the studio by the end of the month, and after they successfully finish recording their title song, chanyeol decides to pull all of them out to celebrate. sehun agrees, distracted at that precise time, and realizes how stupid he was to have agreed when they roll up at a club that jongin frequents. sehun tries to back out, but his bandmates will have none of it. so he ends up seated alone at the corner of the bar, nursing a glass of vodka. rough day? the bartender asks, and sehun looks up to see him polishing glasses. rough life, sehun responds, dropping his head into his arms. aren’t you the guitarist of White Line? the bartender questions. sehun grunts in acknowledgement. don’t you have a rivalry with the bassist of Deep Six? at that, sehun lifts his head and squints at the bartender. how do you know about that? the bartender chuckles and sets a glass down before picking up another. jongin’s my friend, he says, and he spills a lot of secrets whenever he’s drunk and alone here, much like you are right now. 

sehun drains the rest of his drink and gestures for the bartender to top up his glass. well then, jongin’s friend, i guess you know what happened. the bartender nods thoughtfully. name’s yixing. and yes, i know what happened. but objectively speaking, i only know the story from jongin’s point of view. sehun sighs and swirls the ice around in his drink. there really isn’t a way to have two sides. simply put, he tossed me aside for taemin because i wasn’t as good as him and took credit for my material. yixing drops his cloth and leans forward. i don’t think him using your material is the issue here, he says pointedly. you hate jongin because he didn’t show faith in you and your abilities. he didn’t treat you in a way you deserved to be treated – especially since the two of you were dating. he put a teenage dream before you. 

sehun exhales, rests his chin on his hand and gazes at yixing.yeah, pretty much. to top it all off, despite all that, i still loved him. and apparently he didn’t. yixing tuts. he did, actually. i don’t think he ever stopped. he just has a hard time getting it around his brain that he was a flat-out idiot and he can’t find a means to apologize and have you accept it. sehun dry chuckles. yeah, i don’t think i’m ever going to accept his apology, should he ever apologize. yixing bites his lip and watches sadly as sehun knocks back another glass.








sehun’s delightfully buzzed when luhan finally finds him and pulls him onto the dance floor. sehun usually hates dancing in clubs, but the alcohol shooting through his veins has him ignoring that fact. soon enough, he’s tapping into his hidden dancing skills and putting on quite a show. halfway through, he feels hands on his hips, and without giving a damn as to who that person is, sehun rests his weight on the person’s body and lets the other guide him. before he can get comfortable though, someone violently grabs him by the wrist and pulls him away.

the fuck, sehun slurs, trying to get his vision to clear so he can see. are you out of your mind? a familiar voice says, that guy’s a whore, he sleeps with anyone and everyone. jongin. sehun snarls. what’s it to you? i’m not yours to protect. we haven’t talked for four years, for fuck’s sake. leave me the hell alone, jongin, stay out of my life. sehun stumbles away, but jongin blocks his path and pushes him onto a barstool. yixing pretends he’s not eavesdropping. sehun snaps. you don’t get it, do you jongin? even if you still have feelings for me and even if i still have feelings for you, this is a situation in which love won’t save a damned thing. you know why? you gave me up for someone you thought would benefit you the most. you never thought ofme, jongin. you left me behind. i wasn’t the one who left you, i wasn’t the one who let go of our relationship. and now because i’ve gotten better at playing the fucking guitar you want me back? just because you finally realized what a fucker you are doesn’t mean i have it in me to forgive you. i don’t even have it in me to look at you. you can apologize for the rest of our lives, jongin, but in the end, you’ll see that i was never yours to keep.

sehun takes a deep breath, chest heaving a little, and watches through slightly blurred vision as jongin’s expression changes to one that’s quite unreadable. suddenly, jongin reaches around towards the bar, picks up a glass, and smashes it against the ground. sehun watches as glass shards scatter across the grimy floor. behind him, yixing balks. we were sixteen, sehun! we were young! we didn’t know shit about what it takes to make a relationship work. back then all i thought about was making it big, and making it big needed talent. yes, i admit i placed that stupid dream before you, but i never thought you’d leave! that dream had every opportunity to disappear, but i always thought you’d be there to comfort me. i took you for advantage, yes, but i never did it because you weren’t important in my life –

sehun interrupts jongin’s speech with a slap to the face. wake up, jongin. there’s nothing left to save.








sehun wakes the next morning with a killer hangover and luhan drooling in his lap. his head nearly collides with chanyeol’s as he raises it, and he groans as a muscle in his neck informs him that it's pulled. a knock on the door triggers a painful rattle in sehun’s head, and he struggles to push luhan off his lap to stand. shuffling over to the door, he opens it to reveal yixing.

jongin’s friend, right? sehun mumbles, tongue heavy. the bartender? yixing nods. here’s some painkillers, yixing says, handing over a small bag. sehun thanks him profusely as he rushes to get a glass of water. is there a reason you’re here apart from the painkillers? sehun asks, swallowing three. yixing nods somewhat hesitantly. i overheard everything that was said between you and jongin last night. sehun snorts. yeah? maybe you can refresh my memory because i’ve forgotten pretty much what was said last night. yixing waves a hand. it’s nothing. you pretty much told him that there’s nothing he could do to get you to forgive him. sehun looks at yixing. well, i guess a wasted me can still deal with emotional issues. 

so that’s all true? it’s not just a drunken tirade? yixing asks. sehun rubs at his eyes and pushes the heels of his hands into his eye sockets before opening his mouth. it’s not a drunken tirade, yixing. i really don’t see what he can possibly do to make me forgive him. there’re some things that fizzle and die out. my relationship with jongin is one of them. in fact, i already thought our relationship was a pile of ashes before i ran into him at the festival. yixing nods in understanding. i see. well, if it helps any, jongin’s actually changed. unlike what jongin told you, taemin didn’t quit. jongin told him to leave. he’s also putting their debut album on hold because he can’t focus when he knows you’re mad at him.

sehun drains his water. you can tell him to get back to work, because if he’s putting his album on hold until we make peace, he’ll never debut. at this, yixing abandons all pretense and leans forward. it’s obvious you still have feelings for him, sehun. everyone gets hurt in relationships. why don’t you just take this as an obstacle that the two of you have to overcome? sehun looks at yixing incredulously. it’s been four years, yixing – yixing rolls his eyes and smacks the countertop. time is nothing in situations like these. look, you punched him and you had the heart to check if he was too badly injured. you want to make him suffer, i get it. but i think he’s suffered enough. he’s lost so much weight since the festival, and there hasn’t been a weekend in which he wasn’t drunk.

why are you telling me all this, sehun asks dully. because i can see it affects you. which further supports my point. in all honesty, sehun, you’re being stupid. sehun rises from his seat at that, ignoring the throbbing in his head. i’d like it if you left. yixing stands as well. that’s fine. i’ve said all i wanted to say, anyway.yixing turns and walks out of the kitchen. at the front door, he turns and scrutinizes sehun. i’m sorry, he says, and leaves. the door shuts with a definitive snap behind him.








sehun dives back into his work, spending the majority of his time at the studio whenever it happened to be their practice day. he falls into a mundane routine for months– work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep – which finally ends the night before their debut album is scheduled to drop. sprawled out across their dorm’s couch, sehun peers through heavy lidded eyes as the rest of his bandmates shuffle out the dorm. he’d managed to stay behind under the pretense of needing sleep, but the moment the door closes behind wufan, sehun sits up, pillows his face in the palms of his hands and sighs.

he doesn’t really understand why and how, but five minutes later he finds himself pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and a wifebeater before pushing his hair back with wax and heading out the front door. he’s mentally beating himself up when he steps through the door of the club he had sworn to never return to. yixing pauses, a bottle of scotch poised over a glass. hello, he says, it’s been a while.

sehun slides onto a barstool and gestures for a bottle of beer.yeah, i guess it has. yixing places a bottle on the counter and watches as sehun takes a swig. i heard you guys are debuting tomorrow. sehun nods, fingers tapping out a beat against the slim neck of the bottle. what’s the reason you’re here, sehun?yixing asks, smiling at another customer who passes him a couple of bills before leaving. i don’t know. i think – i might be looking for jongin. he sounds a little stunned.

yixing smiles again, and gestures to the staff room. he’s in there.sehun eyes the door. what’s he doing in there? yixing shrugs and places the bottle of scotch back on the shelf. i don’t know. he went in there an hour ago and hasn’t been out since. sehun leaves his half-finished bottle of beer and stands. is anyone else in there with him? yixing shakes his head. sehun takes a deep breath, wipes the condensation off his palms onto his thighs, and pushes past sweaty people on the dance floor to get to the door.

sehun slips into the room and sees jongin seated on a low stool, head buried in a notebook with a pencil in hand and earphones snug in his ears.

sehun reaches out to tap him on the shoulder.








jongin jumps so violently he nearly slips off the stool and he drops his pencil. cursing, he snaps his notebook shut and attempts to find the pencil under cases of alcohol before giving up and straightening to see who had intruded. his eyes widen just a fraction when he sees sehun standing before the door.hey, jongin says, uncertain. i don’t know why i’m here, sehun says in a rush, face turning a little red. it’s okay, jongin replies hurriedly, here, take a seat. he pushes out an empty case meant for wine and sehun settles himself down on it, eyes never leaving jongin’s face.

jongin takes his seat on the stool and clears his throat. sehun sees his notebook peeking out from his backpack, and he asks,are you writing lyrics? jongin nods and he tries to stop fidgeting. sehun nods  in return – awkwardly – swallows, and sighs. don’t over-think this, he starts, it doesn’t mean anything.

he grabs jongin by the neck of his shirt and pulls the other bodily onto him, lips finding the other’s. jongin stumbles a little, but he finds footing by the sides of the wine crate and he steadies himself with hands on sehun’s torso. what – he tries, but sehun growls and mutters, i told you to not over-think it. that meant to not ask questions, either. jongin nods and attaches his lips to the column of sehun’s neck before sucking hard and running his tongue over the blooming spot of red. sehun fumbles behind him for the lock to the door and after making sure it works, cants his hips up into jongin’s and tries to get jongin’s lips back on his neck.

jongin pulls sehun up to a standing position and kicks the crate into a corner of the room and runs a finger down the front of sehun’s crotch before tugging at the hem of his wifebeater. sehun pulls it off his head with one swift movement and keens when jongin licks a heated path from his navel to the base of his throat. jongin rises, cups the base of sehun’s head and presses his lips against sehun’s before pushing his tongue firmly into sehun’s mouth. god has he missed this taste. jongin uses a free hand to fumble with the belt buckle of sehun’s belt, and after successfully getting it undone, wrenches his lips away to look down as he works on ridding sehun of his jeans.

jongin screws his eyes shut when he realizes that sehun had decided to go without underwear – groaning, he sinks onto his knees and squeezes sehun’s thighs before relaxing his throat and taking sehun whole into his mouth. sehun bucks, head tipping back and nearly smacking the wall as he tries to stop himself from fucking jongin’s mouth. he buries fingers in the mess that is jongin’s hair and nearly rips strands out when jongin digs his tongue into the slit of his cock. looking down, he nearly comes when he sees jongin’s right hand down his own pants, working furiously along with the rhythm his mouth had set.

jongin lets out a stifled moan that shoots vibrations down sehun’s cock and into the pit in his stomach. oh fuck, sehun forces out through gritted teeth. pump me. jongin pulls back, looks up at sehun with darkened eyes and rises, his unbuttoned pants dropping down around his ankles as he aligns their cocks together and wrapping a large hand around them. sehun closes his eyes and rests the back of his head against the wall as friction increases, sending white sparks of lust through his blood. jongin sucks another bruise onto sehun’s collarbone as his grip tightens – the heat of jongin’s mouth has sehun pushing further into jongin’s grip and his lips curving into an ‘o’ as he orgasms, cum splattering over jongin’s clothed torso. jongin takes it all in stride, simply moves his hand faster to prolong sehun’s orgasm and to trigger his own.

as jongin comes down from his high, he feels the rise and fall of sehun’s chest against his. he leans in, but sehun pulls back and holds jongin away with a hand. jongin stops, looks at sehun’s flushed face, red lips and dotted neck before nodding in understanding. right, no over-thinking. he says, stepping backwards out of sehun’s grip and pulling off his stained shirt, tossing it into his bag. sehun’s jaw twitches, and he bends to pick up his discarded clothing. he struggles to pull on his jeans – the thin film of sweat on his thighs don’t help when it comes to skinny jeans – and he tugs his wifebeater over his head before suddenly turning and punching the wall.

jongin watches from where he’s standing, leaned against a tower of crates. he drags the back of his hand across his lips as sehun runs a hand over his face. sehun places a hand on the handle of the door and unlocks it with the other. he leaves without a word, leaving the door open, swinging on its hinges. jongin doesn’t sigh, doesn’t mope, simply opens up his notebook and digs around the depths of his bag for another pencil.








their debut comes and goes, and the band nearly gets tired of performing their title song after countless performances. their last live performance for the album ends in a blast, and chanyeol yells in happiness, nearly breaking his bass as he jumps around, shouting about how they wouldn’t have to perform the same song anymore for a long, long time. sehun manages to sleep in for the first time since they signed their record deal, and he wakes feeling like he’d just slept in a bed of clouds. stumbling into the kitchen, he walks straight into wufan’s chest and nearly topples over. wufan catches him by the shoulders, chuckles, and steers him towards the table. get some coffee in you. 

sehun sinks into a chair, grabs a packet of cigarettes that’s lying around, and lights up a stick. luhan promptly snatches it from his hand and crushes it before sehun could take a drag. sehun pouts and luhan pushes a mug of coffee under his nose to make up for it. sehun forgives luhan and takes a sip.

sehun’s about to shove a piece of pancake into his mouth when he realizes jongin is sitting across from him. he misses the pancake and bites on his tongue. spluttering, he takes a sip of baekhyun’s water and sets his fork down. what are you doing here? jongin reaches into his bag and takes out a CD. i wanted to give you this, he says, and pushes the disc across the table. why?sehun asks, picking it up and turning it around. Baekhyun peers over his shoulder and comments, you changed your band name?jongin pauses, gaze flicking from sehun to baekhyun. yeah. 

what’s wrong with Deep Six? jongin shrugs and plays with the rim of his mug. taemin was the one who picked that name. sehun looks up from the disc. so who picked Blunt Edge? baekhyun asks. sehun sets the disc down and looks jongin straight in the eye. i did. jongin looks down, away from sehun.

luhan lets out a quiet oh, and turns around to make more pancakes. sehun waves the disc around. is that why you wanted me to have this? because you took another one of my ideas?jongin shakes his head vehemently. no, that’s not it, i wanted you to listen to the music itself. sehun takes another gulp of coffee and opens the case. fine, i will. jongin looks a little taken aback.but i’d like you to leave, now.

jongin stands immediately and moves towards the main door. chanyeol offers a wave. jongin returns it with a small smile. waiting to hear the click of the closing door, sehun cuts up his pancake into pieces. are you actually gonna – sehun nods and chanyeol shuts up. the door clicks shut, and sehun finishes his pancake in the span of a couple of minutes. washing it all down with the rest of his coffee, sehun picks up the disc and leaves to crawl back into his bed.

he injects the disc into the disc drive on his laptop and plugs his earphones in. closing his eyes, he allows guitar riffs – played by the new member – and a steady beat of the drums to fill his mind. he realizes how much kyungsoo’s voice has changed ever since he left the band, and when zitao executes a complicated string of drumbeats, sehun’s eyebrows twitches with the newfound knowledge of how much he has improved.

he’s on the last song when he hears it. if i sing loud enough, will you finally hear me? if i pour my heart out, will you finally see me? sehun inhales and the air goes down the wrong pipe – he ends up hacking for thirty seconds before rewinding and replaying.








what’s the meaning of this? sehun demands, barging into jongin’s apartment without calling ahead or ringing the bell. jongin yells in shock and turns around from where he’s pulling on a pair of pants – nearly tripping – to look at sehun, who’s standing at the door with the disc in his hands. sehun chooses to ignore the fact that jongin’s mostly unclothed, and raises an eyebrow. so? jongin zips up his pants and gestures for sehun to step inside. sehun enters the apartment, toes off his shoes, and pads to the middle of jongin’s living room.

jongin pulls on a shirt and rubs at his wet hair with a towel. it means that i haven’t forgotten it’s the first thing we ever wrote together, huddled under your covers with a flashlight in my mouth and a pencil in your hand. it means i’ve always carried a piece of you with me. it means the world to me – you and me together. it means i want you to realize that i’m sorry and i’m willing to spend my whole life showing you just how much if you’d let me. it means i never want to see you walk away from me ever again.

what follows has jongin blinking in surprise. sehun heads over to the couch, takes a seat, and pats the spot next to him. shuffling over, jongin settles down and waits with bated breath. sehun flips the disc around slowly in his hands and jongin thinks he can hear the cogs in his brain working.

maybe there’s the possibility, sehun begins, and jongin’s heart is already jumping at that, that i could forgive you. sehun hesitates.maybe i actually really want to. he turns to look at jongin. maybe, just maybe, i already have.








thousands of sweaty bodies seem to converge on him the moment he enters the arena. jongin’s band is scheduled to debut today, and sehun’s managed to convince his manager to get him a ticket for their performance. grimacing, he finds a spot near the stage; something relatively easy as people start to recognize him and allow him to pass, whispers erupting. sehun can already imagine the headline of tabloid magazines in the copies due next week. stage crew members are busy setting up, and sehun watches with an elbow propped up on the barricade. there’s a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to find taemin standing next to him.

hello, taemin says conversationally. sehun inclines his head in response. the noise of the crowd isn’t enough to counter the heavy, tense silence between the two of them. or perhaps it’s just in sehun’s head. taemin’s slight smile seems to CONFIRMthat theory. i was going to apologize, but i figured at this stage, you probably don’t care anymore. sehun finds himself silently agreeing. we’re both here for the same reason, so i don’t see why we shouldn’t ENJOY ourselves. sehun simply holds out a hand, and waits until taemin shakes it before clapping taemin on the back. water under the bridge, he says, and turns back to face the stage.








that was a good set, sehun says, leaning against the wall in jongin’s dressing room. jongin’s busy chugging a BOTTLE OF WATER, but as soon as the last drop clears his lips, he breaks out into a grin and glances at sehun. i only put that much energy in because you were there. sehun fights to prevent the corner of his lips from turning upwards. i didn’t even tell you i was coming. jongin shrugs and tucks his bass away in its case.taemin texted me. and i saw you the moment i stepped on stage anyway. sehun helps jongin detach the sound pack from his hip and scoffs. of COURSE you did.

i did, jongin says seriously. sehun snorts. the room falls silent, but it doesn’t bother either of them as jongin continues to gather his things. sehun grabs jongin by the hem of his shirt as the latter tugs on a hoodie. hm? jongin asks, sticking his head out from the hole. i was gonna start writing new songs tomorrow. you should join me. jongin sticks his arms out of their respective holes and tugs his sweatshirt down. count me in. wait, will there be blankets and flashlights?

sehun answers by brushing his lips lightly against jongin’s cheek and stepping out of the dressing room.