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j0514x · 2 years

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Shownu x Wonho - A gift I cannot erase hurt/comfort + soft smut | ongoing | ao3 all

┌───────── · · · · ♡ Chapter 1

There's a small crack in the ceiling. Staggered trails separate the plaster, branches of lightening in the abysmal off-white sky. An arm raises up, t-shirt sleeve softly falling, fingers tracing the pattern through the air. Shownu wonders how long it's been there, watching over his bed. Perhaps they should be better acquainted, given their intimate living arrangements. A sigh, arm falling back against the mattress with a dullened thud.

The cold had hit Seoul earlier than usual this year, autumn merely a blink in the presence of winter's bite. Clouds often smothered the sky while sun was yet to set, drawing days unnaturally short, shrouding the city in darkness. Time had abandoned them, left them floating, left them detached. Shownu doesn't remember the last time his feet were on ground.

That's a lie, he does. He remembers the puddle he stepped in yesterday, a lapse in judgement really, given the fabric shoes he wore. He remembers the trembling reflection of Seoul in the water, the fragments of lights shattered by his step. Shaking droplets from his foot, he lingered to watch the puddle settle, restoring the picture. An oil painting dressed in concrete frame.

He should tell their landlord about the crack; the thought of being awoken with plasterboard on his face is less than appealing. Maybe he should sleep with one of the others for now. Bringing his eyes back to focus, he ponders the ceiling once more. It is, admittedly, a very small crack, and almost certainly nothing structural. It's the weakest excuse he's thought of recently by far. He hates how cold his bed feels alone.

In a moment of indulgence, of self-pity, he allows his thoughts to spiral unsupervised. Curiosity, perhaps, to see where they go. He watches the ceiling, backseat to his own mind, until it lights up. A glow from beside him, phone screen beaming, Shownu reaches for it.

02:08AM Incoming call...

"...Hoseok?"

"It's cold tonight, isn't it?" Wonho muses through the phone; Shownu can hear the gentle crackle of wind in the background. "I left the gym and the sweat on my nose froze immediately." He laughs.

"Can't sleep?"

Shownu hears the scuffing of shoes, feet coming to a sudden still, wind a growing backdrop. He doesn't need an answer, he asked rhetorical, but he awaits in silence nonetheless.

The voice that responds is small, a fraction of what it was a mere moment previous.

"I didn't know who else to call."

"Where are you?" Shownu throws his legs over the edge of his mattress, feet tangled in the duvet pulling it to the ground in a heap. "I'll come meet you."

"No- no, don't. It's too cold and too late. I shouldn't have woken you, I'm sorry." Wonho chuckles lightly, awkwardly.

"You didn't, Seokie."

"Oh."

Crouching to tie laces, Shownu places the phone to the side. Level with his ear, he can hear the sound of a bench creaking, a bag hitting the floor. Softly, he smiles to himself.

Keys and phone in hand, he heads for the door.

The dull tedium of indicators echo, impatient while engine idles. Thumb between teeth, Shownu chews at the skin beside his nail, eyes fixated on the red glow stagnating him. The square of a window lights up in one of the buildings resting upon the horizon; a silhouette walks past and the light goes off once more. A car pulls beside him, drawing to a slow roll. Catching the blue haze of city lights, of billboards and neon lettering, the yellow taxis stand harsh against the night sky. Most sit idle along street edges, white light of their sign a beacon for the stumbling bodies leaving clubs. There is no rest in Seoul, merely moments of waiting.

Amber - the soft thunk of gears shifting into place, foot hovering over pedal. A silhouette dashes across the road, outpacing the changing lights. Hands ready against the steering wheel, wheels turning as green light spills across the dashboard. Headlights throw shadows through the bollards into the lane opposite as he turns the corner.

He hasn't driven these roads in a year or so, and admittedly he knew them better on foot. There's a gym, tucked on the corner of downtown backstreets. It was never close enough to be convenient, but that was the point, he supposed. It was the place he went to be away from everything, until Wonho caught onto him, then it became the place they went to be away from everything. It defeated the purpose, but he liked it better that way - the pieces of him left there, the ghosts in the changing rooms, eternally companioned. The changing rooms became his confessional, nails picking at the edge of the wooden slats he sat on. He remembers the way the laminate coating began peeling, the piece he accidentally pulled off when he first talked to Wonho about-

They used to frequent the gym a year after debut, finding their feet in an industry of quicksand, finding their feet as a group, as friends, as... more. Shownu became a pillar well lent upon, but with none of his own; he wasn't sure he even knew how to ask of others. A locker door clatters shut; they had finished their chest workout, Wonho whining before every set but completing them with unquivering determination.

"When- How... How-" Shownu begins speaking, startling Wonho half-changed into his t-shirt. Neither know where this is going.

The sentence ends there; Wonho watches as Shownu's brows knit, assessing his words. He moves to sit beside him, gentle murmur of 'Hyunwoo?' on his lips. A sigh, Shownu drops his head. Wonho strokes a hand against Shownu's back, skin hot through his clothes. They sit in silence.

"No, nevermind. It's... stupid." Hands pressing on his knees, Shownu stands, reaching to sling his gym bag over shoulder. "We should get going, see if Ki's made dinner." He smiles to himself at the thought of hot food.

The strap of his bag catches on something, yanking him backwards as he attempts towards the door. Turning to unhook himself, he comes eye-to-eye with Wonho.

"Tell me."

"Hm?"

"We're not leaving until you tell me, Hyunwoo." His arms cross over his chest, small flinch as his muscles protest.

This would've been easier before they were face-to-face, Shownu laments. Fixing his gaze on the floor, he mentally traces the curves of Wonho's shoes.

"How do I-you find someone to..." A hand gestures vaguely. "to top you, when everyone wants you to top them?"

Wonho laughs softly, in both amusement and fondness. "Asking is normally a good choice." He teases.

"Mhm... But who?" Shownu picks at the cuticle on his thumbnail, thinking.

Wonho's smile drops, eyes rolling. A palm rests gentle against Shownu's jaw, cradling. Lips fall against his own before Shownu can look up. Somewhere in the expanse of his mind, a lone penny drops.

His car slows, at the mercy of traffic lights once more. The car in front seems to be a taxi, two passengers in the backseats. The harsh red illumination of the brake lights ahead pull their dark silhouettes from the shadow, a stage framed through the back windscreen. One sits elbow against the window, head resting against their knuckles while the other speaks in animated gestures, hands painting stories in the air between them. The watcher laughs, reaching to cup the cheek of their companion. Lights change, brakes off, and the scene before him ends. Curtains pulled, stage lights dim.

The remaining streets pass in a blur, details lost on Shownu, until the one bench he searches for fades into view. It faces the gym, and sure enough, Wonho sits there alone; a soft beep from Shownu's watch alerts him of elevated heartrate.

The handbreak clicks into place, car halting; he leans to throw the passenger door open. Wonho laughs, standing and walking towards the car. Damp hair falls over his eyes as he throws his gym bag over his shoulder, goosebumps dotting the smooth skin of his legs.

"Shorts?" Shownu questions as Wonho slides into the passenger seat.

"Ah, I was in a rush." He laughs, sheepish.

Shownu laughs alongside, eyes crinkled. He reaches to turn the heating on, warm air blowing against their skin. Appreciative, Wonho warms his hands over the air vent beside the car radio. The handbrake remains on.

"I wish you could see the stars at night here." Wonho mumbles.

"Hm?"

"The city's too bright. You have to go far out to see them."

"Mh..." Shownu ponders this. "Camping."

The engine stirs quietly, sitting in waiting for call to action. Shownu leans to the side, looking through his window up to the illuminated night sky. He sees nothing but dull grey, smog of light sitting between him and the stars. He doesn't remember the last time he went camping. Beside him, Wonho reaches down, thawed hands rubbing up and down cold shins.

"I miss being with you."

Wonho stills, head turning to look at Shownu, who simply continues gazing at the sky. Processing, Wonho briefly turns his attention back to his cold legs, hands moving slower. He admits this to no one, least of all himself, but adjusting never ends. There is no moment where things settle, where turbulence dies; you are haunted forever by fragments of what if? Moving on, but forever leaving a part of yourself behind, fiaxted on what could've been. That's not a bad thing, he thinks. It may be painful, but it's necessary to hold on to things of importance even when lost. In giving them up, you give up yourself.

"Winter always reminds me that I never got used to an empty apartment." Wonho mutters to his knees - adjusting never ends.

Shownu scrapes a nail against the leather of his steering wheel, tracing the stitching. "I don't remember how your skin feels, or what your legs look like wrapped in my sheets." His hand slides down the steering wheel, falling into his lap. "I don't even know what scent you wear anymore."

"Creed. Royal Water."

"Oh."

A beat of silence, Shownu's hand slips to lower the handbreak, shifting into gear. Feet ease the car to motion.

The streets that pass are growingly familiar to Wonho, a building dread with each sign, each broken slab of paving he knows too well - he's being driven home.

Shoulder a shield, he preoccupies himself with the view from his window, the blurred lights as his waterlines burn. Clenching his jaw, thumb tight between fist, he wills himself to accept this without tears.

It's a cruel irony that what hurts the most is that he understands. Their foundations were lost; chasing something so unsustainable is a battle without victor. It was foolish to expect any different.

Shownu pulls into the parking garage, slowing into a spot marked 방문자. Visitor.

#wonho #shownu #showho #monsta x #monsta x fic #monsta x imagine #wonho imagine #monsta x scenarios #AGICNE.jx

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