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taekbn · 9 years ago

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lost without you

taekbin, pg13 / less than 1k

“ remember how i found you clinging to my words you never doubted it “

the strobe lights start flashing and hongbin's face is pitted in shadow; bright red across his cheeks, then blue; pink in his eyes and his hair tinted purple. he's holding a beer with only a single sip missing, and when he drops it a second later the bottle hits the floor but not hard enough to shatter. instead: a waterfall of foam on taekwoon's shoes, and the reek of alcohol.

hongbin says, 'this place depresses me.'

he says, 'i'm getting the fuck out of here.'

he takes taekwoon's hand and says, 'are you coming with me?' although he already knows the answer.

sometimes hongbin weakly punches his pillow in his sleep: subtle packing sounds of hard knuckle against feathery down, and he: dead to the world, unaware that he's grinding his teeth, and his face: distorted with pain.

he wakes with bruises on his hands and doesn't know where they've come from. he wakes with blood under his nose wondering when it'd happened, asking taekwoon, 'did I get into a fight?' and walking away before hearing an answer.

doesn't matter.

taekwoon wouldn't know what to say anyway.

'something's wrong with me,' hongbin says one night.

'i'm sorry i'm like this,' he says the night after that.

'why, why do you put up with me?' he asks only when he's drunk.

taekwoon tells him the only way hongbin will accept that he loves him. he kisses hongbin's purple knuckles and holds the back of hongbin's palm to the side of his face. he inhales deeply and presses his face into the curve of hongbin's neck. he speaks without words; and hongbin, knowing what every touch means, melts into him with a satisfied hum; feeling whole, he says, for at least the moment.

he used to be the boy who never stopped smiling; giddy on his feet, he'd tiptoe around taekwoon like a playful cub threatening its mother. he'd poke at taekwoon's sides, pull at his hair; he'd laugh so hard tears would stain his cheeks, tinted pink all over.

he used to wake taekwoon up on the nights he couldn't sleep, too hyper to close his eyes, and beg him, 'please, hyung, please stay awake just... for a little bit,' and it'd be after four in the morning when he'd finally roll over with his face tucked neatly into the front of taekwoon's shirt; breathing deeply. at peace.

he's standing in front of the refrigerator with a mix drink in his left hand. it's eleven o'clock in the morning. it's raining.

'i'm a good person, right?' he asks very quietly.

'yes,' taekwoon tells him.

hongbin leaves then, stomping lightly as if annoyed, and when taekwoon asks him what's wrong he says, 'it was a trick question. there are no good people.'

the car is cramped and too small for the both of them, but they make it work.

hongbin lays his head in taekwoon's lap with his feet on the dashboard and his eyes squeezes shut. he isn't quite sleeping, but he could be if he let himself.

he's mumbling when he says, 'your hands are soft,' and there's the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth but it won't form, not fully.

taekwoon leans his head to the back of his seat, touches the side of hongbin's face. he doesn't let his eyes close, wants to watch the rise of hongbin's chest and the way his nose wrinkles when taekwoon touches his neck.

'sometimes,' hongbin says drowsily, 'I feel alright. do you know what I mean?'

taekwoon replies with a soft hum; he doesn't like to speak when hongbin is this way: so close to being happy it's believable that he really could be. so he leans his head down and presses his forehead to hongbin's own, kisses the bridge of his nose. his throat swells shut, painfully, as if trying to choke him when hongbin whispers, 'you make me feel happy.'

the balcony is warm with summer winds and the highway is busy: the blare of traffic, dull; a constant reminder that the world is too full.

hongbin puts his hand on the small of taekwoon's back and he says, 'you know I love you, don't you?'

taekwoon kisses hongbin's temple, feels his pulse on the verge of wild. he kisses hongbin's cheek, warm beneath his mouth. he kisses hongbin's nose, cold despite the heat. he whispers, 'you're the only person who does.'

'we're both kind of fucked up, aren't we?' and there's hope in his voice like maybe he's only now realizing this.

'more than kind of.'

hongbin smiles and it's genuine; taekwoon's heart beats rapidly.

'I love you,' taekwoon says when he takes hongbin's face between his hands. he pretends there isn't a sob caught in his throat as he realizes this is the only truth he knows.

'I love you,' he says again and pulls hongbin's mouth to his own. 'you believe me?'

it's a while before hongbin responds, so long that taekwoon's sure that he won't respond at all.

'I know, hyung,' but he sounds far off; out of reach. staring not at taekwoon but past him, out on the streets; red lights reflected in the deep pools of his eyes. they flicker back to taekwoon's face, and he smiles. 'I know, alright? stop... looking at me like that.'

'like what.'

'like...' bashful laugh, he tries to turn away, but taekwoon knows: hongbin would never pull out of his reach. 'like i'm not fucked up, okay?'

taekwoon's shaking his head in a way that says he doesn't know what to do and his palms are warm with anxiety. he leans his forehead to hongbin's own and simply stays this way: breathing the air hongbin releases, and hoping the tremble of hongbin's lower lip will soon stop.

#leobin #taekbin #p:tb #m:words #r:pg13 #l:1k

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