Ship/Member: jicheol Tags: canon compliant, ambiguous relationship, shortly-before debut, set during that one 17 project episode... u know the one Permission to remix: Please ask will prob post on ao3 later but will comment with a link when i do! does this even fit the prompt lmao ***
seungcheol's not stupid enough to think that their heart-to-heart on camera would've fixed things once all the filming crew has left, finished with their daily task of filming a gaggle of teen boys in order to overshare their woes to hopefully get more people interested in their fledgling k-pop group.
he'd just hoped that, well, things would have gone back to the before times a little quicker.
jihoon hasn't been avoiding him per se, but he hasn't been making himself available either. he disappeared quickly once they were given free reign of the rental house, and seungcheol doesn't want to make it obvious that he's trying to figure out where jihoon might've slipped off to but from the way jeonghan's been giving him gradually more pointed looks every time he pokes his head into each of the bedrooms he probably hasn't been doing a good job of that.
i hope we won't feel awkward with each other, he'd said. maybe it was a little too optimistic.
he still can't find jihoon once everyone else has given up the fight against sleep (sure, the idea of playing video games all night long sounds like fun until you remember that you've had about eight hours of sleep in total over the past week), and he's genuinely starting to wonder if something's happened to jihoon. they're in his home turf, after all - it would be easy for him to slip away.
seungcheol pulls on a hoodie and a pair of slippers and steps out to the patio, where the remnants of their heart-to-heart campfire still reside. there's a small figure sitting on the ground in front of it, little blond ponytail sticking out over the collar of his sweatshirt.
"jihoonie," seungcheol calls out, "what are you doing out here? it's cold." it's warm enough during the day, but the temperature's dropped significantly now that it's the dead of night, and the coastal fog certainly doesn't help.
he watches jihoon's shoulders rise and fall. "thinking."
"you couldn't think inside?"
another shrug. no words this time.
seungcheol walks further down, stopping to sit down in line with jihoon but far enough away that they'd have to fully extend their arms to touch.
the concrete floor is somehow damp through the thin cotton of his pajama pants, and if seungcheol squints he can see remnants of ash scattered around them. he probably should've brought a towel or something to sit down on, but jihoon's sitting directly on the floor, too. he'll just bum another pair of pants off someone else later, or he'll just sleep without them and hope that the pds aren't interested in filming wakeup shots tomorrow morning.
seungcheol leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. his fingers twitch - he doesn't smoke, and he doesn't drink much (even though half of the group is old enough to, they try not to make it a habit to set a good example for the younger ones) - but the restless itch under his skin as the cogs in his brain whirl triple-speed makes him understand why some adults always have a cigarette or a beer bottle in hand when they're stressed.
jihoon still hasn't told him to go away.
"you haven't been out here all night, have you?" seungcheol asks. he's pretty sure jihoon hasn't - one of the walls is fully glass, so someone probably would've noticed, but he doesn't know how else to start the conversation. doesn't know how to start a conversation with jihoon any more, evidently. funny how being with jihoon used to feel as natural as breathing, but now he's struggling for air.
jihoon shakes his head. "seo-dokyeommie asked me to play video games with him a bit earlier, and i had to break up a spat between seungkwan and chan. then i came out here because i couldn't sleep."
jihoon turns to seungcheol, then, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed faintly pink under the outdoor lights. "why are you out here, hyung?"
"couldn't sleep." really, he's being facetious, but there's a part of him that he knows couldn't sleep not knowing everyone was accounted for. it's a gradual thing, how everyone's grown on him like this. he never would've thought that having to be responsible for twelve others would've made him this way.
"mm." jihoon turns back to the dead fire pit, lips pursed. seungcheol isn't much for making short jokes at jihoon's expense anymore (had that impulse beaten out of him fairly early on in their acquaintanceship) but he's pretty sure he's not being an asshole when he thinks that jihoon just looks so small like this, hands hidden behind overlong sleeves and shoulders slumped just so.
"jihoonie," seungcheol says, the syllables of the younger boy's name sticking against his tongue. "i'm so--"
"don't," jihoon cuts him off. "don't say you're sorry."
a pause. "we've said enough to each other about this, don't you think?"
his tone is matter-of-fact, but not unkind. seungcheol is generally inclined to agree - they've hashed out enough of their beef in front of their members and a bunch of strangers filming them. anything else they'd need to point out about each other's faults probably wouldn't help matters much.
seungcheol just can't shake the feeling, though, that there's something else he needs to tell jihoon.
you... i think you're special, seungcheol had said, tripping over his words on camera, because what else was he supposed to say? there's nothing he can think of that truly encapsulates what it is that jihoon means to him.
how is seungcheol supposed to find the words to say i could do anything, as long as it's with you? i'd follow you to the end of the world and back again? i'd do anything if it meant your happiness? he can't just say that shit. jihoon would probably laugh at him or tell him to figure out a way to put it in a song.
"i just want you to know that hyung will always be here for you, okay?" seungcheol says. "and i don't care if we're fighting or if we're mad at each other or whatever. i don't want us to shut each other out again."
jihoon doesn't respond, and as the seconds tick by in silence seungcheol can't help but wonder if he's just dug himself into yet another hole.
"hyung," jihoon finally whispers, "let's go inside. i'm cold."
seungcheol laughs, just on the edge of hysterical with relief, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand for jihoon to grab. "okay. let's see if we can find some ramyun in the kitchen. hyung will keep this our secret."
jihoon takes seungcheol's palm in his own, allowing himself to be pulled up and tucked against seungcheol's side. it's a perfect fit, seungcheol can't help but notice, and the thought is nearly warm enough to overcome the nighttime chill.
maybe he doesn't need to tell jihoon every single thing he feels. maybe this, believing that everything will find a way to be okay, no matter what else happens, is enough.
Re: can we put the blame on the changing times?
Tags: canon compliant, ambiguous relationship, shortly-before debut, set during that one 17 project episode... u know the one
Permission to remix: Please ask
will prob post on ao3 later but will comment with a link when i do! does this even fit the prompt lmao
***
seungcheol's not stupid enough to think that their heart-to-heart on camera would've fixed things once all the filming crew has left, finished with their daily task of filming a gaggle of teen boys in order to overshare their woes to hopefully get more people interested in their fledgling k-pop group.
he'd just hoped that, well, things would have gone back to the before times a little quicker.
jihoon hasn't been avoiding him per se, but he hasn't been making himself available either. he disappeared quickly once they were given free reign of the rental house, and seungcheol doesn't want to make it obvious that he's trying to figure out where jihoon might've slipped off to but from the way jeonghan's been giving him gradually more pointed looks every time he pokes his head into each of the bedrooms he probably hasn't been doing a good job of that.
i hope we won't feel awkward with each other, he'd said. maybe it was a little too optimistic.
he still can't find jihoon once everyone else has given up the fight against sleep (sure, the idea of playing video games all night long sounds like fun until you remember that you've had about eight hours of sleep in total over the past week), and he's genuinely starting to wonder if something's happened to jihoon. they're in his home turf, after all - it would be easy for him to slip away.
seungcheol pulls on a hoodie and a pair of slippers and steps out to the patio, where the remnants of their heart-to-heart campfire still reside. there's a small figure sitting on the ground in front of it, little blond ponytail sticking out over the collar of his sweatshirt.
"jihoonie," seungcheol calls out, "what are you doing out here? it's cold." it's warm enough during the day, but the temperature's dropped significantly now that it's the dead of night, and the coastal fog certainly doesn't help.
he watches jihoon's shoulders rise and fall. "thinking."
"you couldn't think inside?"
another shrug. no words this time.
seungcheol walks further down, stopping to sit down in line with jihoon but far enough away that they'd have to fully extend their arms to touch.
the concrete floor is somehow damp through the thin cotton of his pajama pants, and if seungcheol squints he can see remnants of ash scattered around them. he probably should've brought a towel or something to sit down on, but jihoon's sitting directly on the floor, too. he'll just bum another pair of pants off someone else later, or he'll just sleep without them and hope that the pds aren't interested in filming wakeup shots tomorrow morning.
seungcheol leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. his fingers twitch - he doesn't smoke, and he doesn't drink much (even though half of the group is old enough to, they try not to make it a habit to set a good example for the younger ones) - but the restless itch under his skin as the cogs in his brain whirl triple-speed makes him understand why some adults always have a cigarette or a beer bottle in hand when they're stressed.
jihoon still hasn't told him to go away.
"you haven't been out here all night, have you?" seungcheol asks. he's pretty sure jihoon hasn't - one of the walls is fully glass, so someone probably would've noticed, but he doesn't know how else to start the conversation. doesn't know how to start a conversation with jihoon any more, evidently. funny how being with jihoon used to feel as natural as breathing, but now he's struggling for air.
jihoon shakes his head. "seo-dokyeommie asked me to play video games with him a bit earlier, and i had to break up a spat between seungkwan and chan. then i came out here because i couldn't sleep."
jihoon turns to seungcheol, then, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed faintly pink under the outdoor lights. "why are you out here, hyung?"
"couldn't sleep." really, he's being facetious, but there's a part of him that he knows couldn't sleep not knowing everyone was accounted for. it's a gradual thing, how everyone's grown on him like this. he never would've thought that having to be responsible for twelve others would've made him this way.
"mm." jihoon turns back to the dead fire pit, lips pursed. seungcheol isn't much for making short jokes at jihoon's expense anymore (had that impulse beaten out of him fairly early on in their acquaintanceship) but he's pretty sure he's not being an asshole when he thinks that jihoon just looks so small like this, hands hidden behind overlong sleeves and shoulders slumped just so.
"jihoonie," seungcheol says, the syllables of the younger boy's name sticking against his tongue. "i'm so--"
"don't," jihoon cuts him off. "don't say you're sorry."
a pause. "we've said enough to each other about this, don't you think?"
his tone is matter-of-fact, but not unkind. seungcheol is generally inclined to agree - they've hashed out enough of their beef in front of their members and a bunch of strangers filming them. anything else they'd need to point out about each other's faults probably wouldn't help matters much.
seungcheol just can't shake the feeling, though, that there's something else he needs to tell jihoon.
you... i think you're special, seungcheol had said, tripping over his words on camera, because what else was he supposed to say? there's nothing he can think of that truly encapsulates what it is that jihoon means to him.
how is seungcheol supposed to find the words to say i could do anything, as long as it's with you? i'd follow you to the end of the world and back again? i'd do anything if it meant your happiness? he can't just say that shit. jihoon would probably laugh at him or tell him to figure out a way to put it in a song.
"i just want you to know that hyung will always be here for you, okay?" seungcheol says. "and i don't care if we're fighting or if we're mad at each other or whatever. i don't want us to shut each other out again."
jihoon doesn't respond, and as the seconds tick by in silence seungcheol can't help but wonder if he's just dug himself into yet another hole.
"hyung," jihoon finally whispers, "let's go inside. i'm cold."
seungcheol laughs, just on the edge of hysterical with relief, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand for jihoon to grab. "okay. let's see if we can find some ramyun in the kitchen. hyung will keep this our secret."
jihoon takes seungcheol's palm in his own, allowing himself to be pulled up and tucked against seungcheol's side. it's a perfect fit, seungcheol can't help but notice, and the thought is nearly warm enough to overcome the nighttime chill.
maybe he doesn't need to tell jihoon every single thing he feels. maybe this, believing that everything will find a way to be okay, no matter what else happens, is enough.