klausaberwarita

𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙮 𝙙𝙖𝙮.

“so,” hongjoong says to his wall. the silence that talks back is deafening, but he pays it no mind as he frowns menacingly at the brownish dots that litters all over the said wall. “i miss you.”

the 𝘺𝘰𝘶 in question, is currently nowhere to be found. and hongjoong, heaves out such a sad sigh upon the realization. because the room feels so empty without the radiant light wooyoung always give off just by breathing cutely. and now he's trapped in this darkness alone with no way out, when he can 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰 and 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯 the lamp himself. a dramatic asshole, he knows.

and he has every reason to be one! because apparently the crush of his life decided it would be a good idea to suddenly visit his brother, leaving him alone to cry over the empty space on the left side of his bed (because wooyoung likes to sleep facing the wall, and hongjoong likes to sleep watching his back), 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

the 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬, that is hongjoong spiraling down into creating more mess than function like a normal human being. because without the boy's constant fussy nagging, he feels like a fallen leaf ready to be blown by random wind gush by; not knowing the right way to fly.

so, by the time his clock told him it's been two hours since the last time he saw wooyoung's lip mole, he already tripped on his blanket thrice, and broke his―𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳―wooden chair. his mind, does not even dare to mention another chaos that is the kitchen he abused in order to try feeding himself. wooyoung's gonna be so pissed when he come back, but he thinks he'd rather have wooyoung glaring cutely than not having him here at all.

“i'm so whipped,” he says flatly, and wooyoung's oversized tee on his hand probably agree.

because four hours in, and the sink in their bathroom stopped behaving. he does not know why, and does not have the energy to yell anymore because he had already spent his voice talking to the flat for the past few hours. the universe is so mean today, and he prays 𝘴𝘩𝘦 would trip over big shit on the way to 𝘩𝘦𝘳 shrine.

“i miss you, brat.”

really, really he does. because six hours in and he was having a romantic cuddle session with every clothes he could find; that looks and smells 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 like wooyoung's. he's also pretty proud of himself today. because he hasn't whined even a little! big boy does not whine, and 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘺.

therefore, when he realizes it's been seven hours since wooyoung left, he's already on the floor; laying still like a boneless creature, surrounded by a nest created by collecting wooyoung's entire wardrobe. it's comfortable, he supposes, to be able to rest in his most favorite place after a long, long day of draining his energy over unfortunate events that happened today.

“when is that little shit coming back, anyway.”

and as if the universe agreed to grant his deepest desire, he hears the front door creaked open. his ears perks up and he hides the smile that threatens to break out. because no, he does not know 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 is that. and surely he has no idea about the familiar sound of foot steps that echoes thorough their flat. wooyoung is home, and he can vividly feels how his heart soars high. 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳, he thinks.

“hyeong,” says the devil.

he cracks open an eye to greet the younger, and goes back to pretend that he's still wallowing in his sad season on the floor. because apparently, his sudden presence does not just magically lift his dead spirit. because apparently, again, now he's back being an emotionally constipated little shit.

“wow,” wooyoung whistles.

and hongjoong can't help but to repeat the word back in his mind. because yeah, the boy must have seen the chaos he had created just under the span of eight hours wooyoung spent to go visit his brother.

“are those my clothes?”

“yes.”

“why are they on the floor?”

“i knocked them over,” hongjoong bites his lower lip, and adds an afterthought, “because it's messy day.”

“messy day, huh.”

messy day, indeed. because his brain can't really form the right sentence at the moment; to busy dancing in joy over the news that is 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. it should be, 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. but no, his mouth delivers different words because he's a little messed up like that. so, hongjoong clears his throat and forces his embarrassing counterpart to die down because oh wow 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦, stupid heart.

“hey,” wooyoung greets. he sounds scarily close, and hongjoong decides to open his eyes. true to his hunch, the boy's crouching down just beside his head; eyes full of amusement, as wooyoung moves to sit and make himself home. careful, as the boy avoids sitting on his crumpled sweater. hongjoong thinks he looks so homely like this, and maybe fall a little deeper.

“hey,” he quips back.

“what happened?”

hongjoong thinks about their sink, and fears the wrath. he chooses the safest option, “nothing.”

“so,” wooyoung giggles. “messy day.”

brimming with shame, he turns on his side; back facing wooyoung, as the boy lets out pretty string of laughter that calms his heart instantly. he's not sulking, mind you. he just need time to get his guts back in their initial position, and stop giving him funny feelings. though, he says nothing when the boy guides his head to rest on his thick thigh―𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬!―and manages to short circuited right away.

“yes.” he mumbles. “i read it somewhere on the internet.”

“you know that sounds very fishy, hyeong.”

“i know,” he admits rather solemnly. both, from embarrassment, and also because he thinks he's allowed to be a little annoying today, after a needy cuddle session he had with wooyoung's hoodie earlier. the smell was enough to soothe his raging fire, though. but his crush does not need to know that. so, he just casually turns around so his nose meets wooyoung's soft tummy. the willpower he has not to pepper it with kisses like a creep? unbelievable. he should get rewarded for that.

“so?”

stubborn, hongjoong shakes his head and kills the whine that makes it's way to his throat. wooyoung smells nice, and he inhales shakily. “i'm not telling.”

“you look pretty shitty,” wooyoung says instead, and hongjoong groans into wooyoung's―𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨'𝘴!―abdomen.

he, is aware of the boy's gentle presence; blanketing him in a sense of safety. because wooyoung is cradling his head in his lap gently, while he starts to fold his crumpled clothes like some obedient manwife; cleaning his mess without even the need to be asked. and deep inside, he bet wooyoung looks absolutely stunning and domestic it should be illegal for people to see. because the irrational part of his mind, is whispering dangerously.

𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺.

he coughs, and looks away quickly. this time, their bedroom ceiling that has been accompanying him through the thick and thin of his life, glares back.

“when did i never look like one, anyway.”

that, drags a pout back onto wooyoung's lips. which he witnesses through the corner of his eyes. the boy's clearly disagree, and boy's also not afraid to voice it out. hongjoong curses inwardly because―

“you still look great even when you look like shit, hyeong.”

―𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬, he thinks. because wooyoung and his pouty lips should get banned from his life permanently. his heart is at risk here! and, and the way the boy casually pat his head like he's some kind of stray cat he find at the park should be getting sued also. he does really need the money to visit the hospital after the torture wooyoung 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 put him through, after all.

“it's okay,” wooyoung adds. his eyes softens, and hongjoong feels like he's slowly drowning. not like he's complaining, but oh well. 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺. and for seconds, he thinks he has no fear to cross the bridge and walk to his death as happy man.

“it's okay to be a mess today, hyeong.”

and as he gets drifted away within the sound of his thumping heart; eyes zeroing on the cute mole just under wooyoung's left eye, he realizes that he's so fucked up, and so, so madly in love.

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 11.26 pm.