nous

It was almost alien to listen to those words coming from seungjun, someone he was so used to listen to good words, enticing, provocative, sincere. He didn’t know what happened to them on that moment, what kind of dimension he suddenly jumped into or was transported - all he knew was that it hurt, maybe even more than the throbbing pain in his head, one that made his whole body feel numb to the touch; only seungjun’s touch bruned his skin when he touched jongup’s hand and immediately he flinched, the urge of taking his hand back and crossing his arm almost as tempting as he allowed the touch, eyes closed and his breath unsteady. the words were supposed to calm him, to make him understand but they did quite the opposite, they made him nervous and raw, fragile and weak, all things jongup avoided at all costs. Deep down inside his mind there was this part that would be understanding, rational even, that knew what seungjun was saying was just to calm him, to maybe bring them close to the moments when everything was okay and seemed just perfect, before the terror of remembering another part of his stolen past made itself present. suddenly he felt like talking back, suddenly that seemed the only right thing to do at the time so he did it, as he pulled his hand, just like he first thought of and it was all cold again because the distance between them was growing even more. “it’s not fucking okay, seungjun.” and jongup felt his rage rise, he was already seeing red when he turned his body and faced the taller man. He expected him to be more…caring, yes, that was the right expression but then he remembered how he shouldn’t expect much from people, why should it be different with seungjun? “It’s my fucking life, it’s not only a summer that i don’t remember, it’s everything. Do you have any idea how it is to have your memories stolen? To not being able to remember things, to have a nagging feeling that something isn’t right?” and he takes a deep breath and it’s only when he ran a hand through his blue hair that he noticed how clouded his eyes, how the tears were freely falling as he spoke “ever since the beginning i knew you were familiar to me, there was always something there and they stole that from me. I can’t even…I fucking hate this.” and a moment of clarity made him think that perhaps seungjun didn’t want to keep listening to what he was saying, didn’t want to get involved and guilty floored him - no one was supposed to accept the failure that was his life and the mistakes his parents made. “I’m sorry. I ruined Yule for you.” he sighed. “Perhaps you should return to your girlfriend.” the word sounded bitter as soon as he spoke; no, he wasn’t jealous. “I’m sure it’s better than being here.”

tear. verb. with object and adverbial. to pull (something) apart or to pieces with force. that’s how jongup’s hand is taken from him, how seungjun feels as he stares at the empty spot where it had been in his owns. as if he had been pulled apart, into pieces, with force that he wasn’t ready for and left his breath shaky. salt. noun. a white crystalline substance which gives seawater its characteristic taste and is used for seasoning or preserving food. not something one poured into their wounds due to the painful stinging that would happen. that was the anger in jongup’s voice. seungjun’s eyes squeezed shut to blink away the string and he doesn’t want to lift his head; he doesn’t know how to when people are angry with him. his long and awkward legs begins drawn up closer to his body, arms slipping around them and hand twisting around his wrist to keep them from shaking as he listens to jongup. he understands enough. not all of it, not completely. how could he? his memories were intact. he could remember the first time he introduced himself to jongup, the first time they kissed, the first time he laid there next to him and enjoyed the sound of his breathing. it’s the apology that stabs through his own thoughts--his memories--and has him turning his head to look over at jongup. 

tear. noun. a drop of clear salty liquid secreted from glands in a person's eye when they cry or when the eye is irritated. the pain was written all over jongup, the bitterness harsh and cold in his voice and seungjun bites down on his trembling bottom lip. he hates the way he can’t breath, how heavy his heart and head feels, how his bones are weak and so is he. 

“i don’t know what it’s like, jongup... i.. i only know what it’s like to be the boy who was forgotten,” seungjun tries to keep his voice steady, lowering his head until his forehead is pressed to his arms. “my mum lost her mind, i thought i was losing mine too. if you didn’t remember.... did i make it all up in my head? are all those memories just.. things i imagined?” he shrugs his shoulders, unable to work out the right emotion. should he be relieved? should he be hurt? should he be angry like jongup was now? seungjun shifts, squirms with his next thought. “would it have been better if i didn’t keep pushing you? if i just pretended i didn’t know you too?” not that that would have been possible, not that seungjun would have been able to stop his curiousity from needing to be satiated. “i’m sorry that i keep saying the wrong thing. i’m sorry, i just...” his fingers messily comb through his hair, trying to align the thoughts in his head. “i’m horrible at this, that’s why she’s my ex-girlfriend. i don’t.. do talking about feelings or comforting.. i don’t.. i grew up alone. no one taught me.”

And now everything has a whole different weight, as he listens to seungjun’s words, as his brain processes every single one of the things he was saying. Seungjun jokes, seungjun treats the whole situation as if it is a game, as if he had been playing the whole time, and as much as jongup wants to be reasonable and strong, he isn’t, not when the memories are still crashing against his skull and he doesn’t have his potions with him. not when all he expects is understanding and not an ironic pat on the shoulder, a dismissive and impersonal way of showing he didn’t care; maybe he doesn’t and jongup had been wrong all along, that the male in front of him is nothing but a mirage of the one he suspected he used to be, when they touched and something inside of him sparkled, maybe that all was just another product of his imagination and he had been wrong all along. No, jongup isn’t naïve to believe that seungjun would easily forgive him for that, but he never really thought he would act that way, as if nothing mattered, as if they didn’t matter. “oh, yeah, a game.” He forces out his words, as his head throbs and hurts even more and again he curses his family for doing what they did, for condemning him to that reality. Now he really wants to leave and he even finds the strength to stand up, the urge for his potions being even stronger than the way he just wants to ask seungjun to forgive him and just be there with him, for the night at least, to pretend they’re still the same people, that nothing changed; instead he runs a shaking hand through his hair and avoids the taller’s stare, feeling even more miserable than before. “thank you. For…not caring.”

[ ... ]

his lips perked up in an open and relaxed smile when seungjun kissed him, not really ignoring the way his skin tingled with that simple gesture. his hand  found its way to the taller’s male’s forehead and he brushed off a few strands of his soft hair. “thank you.”

looking over his shoulder, he sighed, giving him some space, finally, the door finally opened, a little piece of his life ready to be explored by seungjun. “go ahead, make yourself at home.”

a crinkle knits in his brow as he shakes his head--nothing was more fascinating than jongup, than the intricate mess of ink and skin, than the prickling sound of his breathing and the curvature of his lips--and yet seungjun offers none of these words. they’re a secret to himself, a piece for him to collect as his fingers are drawn to the back of jongups hand, stroking down the warm. “we can’t help ourselves, you know that,” he speaks with a growing tug in the corner of his lips and proud of the thousand interpretations that could be made.

normalcy was a craving that seungjun had, something deep and hungry in the pit of his soul and he had maintained a level of skill to play along with whatever was happening around him to save himself from the uneasiness; the whiplash of others emotions and reality that he’d much rather avoid. so he went along with jongup, along with the politeness, along with the conversation. 

warmth radiated from jongup, a natural magnetization that had been there since that summer. even when it was too hot, when they were sticky with sweat, when more heat was the last thing he should have wanted, seungjun would find himself pressing closer and letting himself burn up. it was a high. “you’re welcome,” seungjun’s lazy reply, eyes curving into crescents as he tucked in his chin, inching closer to let the fingers brush through his hair. 

the need for sleep rising up at jongups affection, swaying him forward and jolting him awake as his given entry into the younger males place. “you’re here, it’ll be easy to do that,” seungjun playful quips, his fingers grazing down the contours of jongups arms, dipping into his elbow, down to his waist and around as his curiousity led him inside. he’d never heard of this place before, he didn’t remember jongup mentioning it and he wondered if it were new. concocted the reasons for why jongup would have needed a new place, why he would be there alone, why it was lacking in that familial--

( but he remembers the yule ball, the memories stolen from jongup and leaving him as little more than a shadow in the fellow ravenclaws past. thoughts he doesn’t want to linger on. )

there’s a twist, slender fingers hooking under the hem of jongups sweater and glancing back at him; a boyish smile on his lips. “give me a tour. wheres your books? wheres your bed? wheres your sweets?”

Seungjun Fancafe Update 170110

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Jongup holds no hopes anymore,no expectations to be forgiven or to be understood. From where and how he can see everything going, there will be no salvation for him and Seungjun, no matter what he says apparently. He realizes there’s a wall so tall between them and it was built in record time, that he’s not sure he’s able to either climb or break it. And it hurts, because he realizes he didn’t want to miss the moments he spent with the taller male, he didn’t want the new memories that were just imprinted in his skull to vanish and become just a bitter reminder of how fucked up his family made things for him. Thanks mom and dad, he thinks as he slowly looks up, trying to organize his thoughts because that’s probably going to be the last time he and Seungjun will share a place like that. His heart clenches at the thought and he sighs, pulling his wand from his jacket and transfiguring a couple of old cloths that were left there into blankets and pillows so they can sit, or be at least comfortable. He motions for Seungjun to sit down as he does the same, keeping a (unwanted) distance from him as he starts to talk, this time avoiding eye contact.  “They cast a memory charm on me. My mom and dad. To cover up their relationship…their fighting, the…abuse”, the last word comes painfully low, an ashamed mutter. Jongup looks away, at the window that’s their only source of light from the moon outside; it’s beautiful but incredibly sad at the same time. “I forgot so many parts of my life because of them. I forgot childhood memories and fights, they wanted to protect me. But they harmed me. It’s not easy to accept this, I know and it sounds like an excuse but it’s not.” the burden is still there and he wants to just walk away, to run and never look back anymore because he doesn’t want to see the pity in Seungjun’s eyes. “I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”

there’s a quiver deep inside seungjun’s bones that reminds him of how tightly he’s clenching his hands into fists and how hard he’s trying to keep his expression empty, dull, unaffected; like a child with no comprehension of what is to come. even when he knows. even when he watches the clothes get turned into blankets like they were going to soften the blow and he seats himself at the distance from jongup like it may offer some safety for him. it’s going to hurt. it already hurts. and he watches the younger males lips part, talking about a charm, his parents, a situation that weighed on the air until it was stifling to intake breaths and seungjun lowered his head to hide the way he was counting out his breaths to himself. he could understand; he could understand why parents would want to hide that. his mother had wanted to protect him, hide him, save him, and done more harm than good. he could comprehend it, know it, write down every logical and reasonable explanation for what happened. but it still hurt, stung at his edges as he glanced at jongup. everything they’d had together was forgotten; only seungjun remember. only him. he would have felt alone--lonely--if that wasn’t what he was used to. a crinkle of his nose, the breathy ends of a chuckle. “but i always liked the trouble you caused.  it was fun,” the ravenclaw chooses to joke instead. like a fool. he was good at that. a sense of pride he had when everything was salted glass, jaggedly digging into his palms as he tried to collect himself up before anyone noticed. “and i think, if you wanted to use an excuse, you’d find a better one than that,” he adds with a shrug of his shoulders. he can’t quite bring himself to look at jongup, with his legs folded to his chest for protection and his body curled up as small as he could make it, seungjun tried his hardest to remain at ease. “i don’t care. it was fun. seeing if you remembered me or were messing with me. it was a game.”

[ ... ]

When he door was finally opened, the breath he didn’t even know he was holding was finally out and he smiled, openly now, at Seungjun that still held the same cool expression in his face, one Jongup would never get tired of. “I thought you were ignoring me, you know, payback.” There wasn’t bitterness in his voice, just plain tease, as he raised a hand to touch the front of the taller man’s jacket. “Happy Holidays.”

there’s a noise on the other side of the door, one that seungjun tilts his head into to listen and then lowers when it approaches closer. his gaze drifting and latching onto the rattle of the door knob before it opened to reveal the person he’d been looking for. jongup. a smile slipped across his lips in greeting and in gratitude to the universe that he had found the right door. the muggle system for addresses was quite bothersome when it came down to it.

seungjun shakes his head, straightening himself up as he takes in the other. the denim with tears at his thighs, the smooth skill revealed and the white sweater that did nothing but make jongup look softer than his usual demeanour. “i got caught up in a book,” his voice was hinted with a whine in his defense and his bottom lip jutted out. “i read through war and peace, twice.”

it was the truth enough; an excuse to avoid thinking about himself or his emotions, or what he was supposed to or not supposed to feel. he’d rather have filled his head with someone elses words and thoughts than his own. 

a pure naivete lingered on his expression, fluttered in his lashes as he glanced over the apartment behind jongup and then down to the long fingers against the fabric of his jacket. his eyes curved as he smiled and bobbed his head. “happy holidays to you too,” he replied out of courtesy, leaning in peck jongup’s cheek.

He briefly remembers muttering North Tower to Seungjun, somewhere abandoned in the castle, somewhere where people hardly went and a place where Jongup goes whenever things are almost unbearable. He wonders how he ends up like that, deaf to the sound of music and people chat, how the blood pumping in his ears are just enough to be used as guidance, along with Seungjun’s hand and he just follows the taller male, just accepts that for once he’s going to listen to him. in his head, he’s trying to come up with a better story, with the real story but it’s hard for him to talk about it, to just add salt to the open wound. But then they’re in the tower and the door is locked behind them, it’s clandestine all over again and now the memories are colorful – the two of them running around the halls of a mansion during a fancy dinner, them drinking wine and then kissing, Seungjun’s lips on his skin and his own voice asking him to see him again the next day. It’s all so painfully vibrant that Jongup needs to let go of Seungjun’s hand and grip his own head, both hands now covering his ears, eyes shut as he tries to look presentable for the other male. “Just…just give me a second. I’ll be fine…” he starts with a low voice, a mere whisper, his throat is dry and then he listens to footsteps around him and suddenly the fear of having Seungjun leaving the place and him alone comes back, full force. “Just…don’t go.”

[ ... ]

But now, four days have passed and still, there was no answer from Seungjun. He felt stupid, he probably had something else to do, other people to visit or places to travel. Or maybe he just got lost in the muggle neighborhood and couldn’t find the address. 

Jongup was restless with all his theories. And that was when he heard a knock on his door. 

the art of burying oneself in books for days straight was easily seungjun’s most practiced skill. 

it was the reason he hadn’t seen the letter from jongup when it’d first arrived and why he had not responded to it either. the explanation behind why he hadn’t showered, hadn’t eaten more than a couple apples and forwent sleep with the help of potions. a need for sleep still lingering in his gaze when he’d arrived with some difficulty of turning up in the wrong place at least once before he’d found the building he was looking for.

jongup’s note was at his fingertips as he double checked the address. it was rare that he went adventuring outside of his books or his own mind, and he had already wandered towards the wrong door once already.

one hand folding it, tucking the paper into the back pocket of his skinny jeans. black boots cuffed above his ankles, green hoodie under a thicker jacket and shirt underneath sticking out messily. like he’d dressed with enough care but not more than a glance in the mirror.

Jongup feels it, from the moment the memories crash against his skull, waves crashing against the stones on a deserted beach, he knows everything is going to be ruined. There is a weird silence and the tension he hates so much between him and Seungjun and it’s the first time he can’t reach the other male, it’s the first time he feels the drop on his stomach and he’s suddenly dizzy. There are so many words that can explain what happened in the past but Jongup simply can’t verbalize them, doesn’t know where or how to start. “I do need to explain”, he tries at first,  looking around them and realizing no one is paying attention to them, which is good, it makes him take a few steps forward, enough to reach the taller man’s jacket. Unfortunately for him, not even the proximity is enough, where there used to be warmth, Jongup now feels some coldness, the unwanted distance between them and a wall, that not even the wide and so beautiful smile coming from Seungjun serves to calm him; on the contrary,  is makes him sigh and lower his head, his eyes closed as he thinks of an answer for the subtle accusation in Seungjun’s words. No, it should have never happened, no he never ever wanted to forget him, no it wasn’t unimportant. “S-Seungjun…”, he starts, a little shaken and he hates to sound like that, a little lost child. “They made it. They made me forget you.”, he looks up one last time, takes a step back. Perhaps it’s for the best that Seungjun doesn’t get involved in the mess that’s his life, that the fact he assumed that what happened between them was some meaningless hook up is a way of ending the things between them. “I will understand if you don’t want me to say anything else. But just know that I would never voluntarily forget you.”

[ ... ]

He is now staring at the empty threat, a sudden desire to just stick out his tongue and tease Seungjun because he just wants to see if he is really going to bite him. In the end, he just rolls his eyes and make a face “i dare you”, he teases him, leaning closer and over the table, eyes falling on the plate between them. “You know, I don’t mind the bite. Are you really that hungry? ”

As soon as he speaks, there comes de feeling again, the light pull in his brain, like he’s being electrocuted. He tries to remember but nothing but blurred images shadow his sanity, making his smile falter a bit. He covers his own confusion with a smile “Let’s say I feed you, what will you give me in return?”

it didn’t bother seungjun how this would look to anyone else. he didn’t care about the reputation that seeped through the walls about who jongup was and what he did. none of that mattered to the seventh year; he’d heard plenty, had likely had worse said about him and most of it was undoubtedly a lie spun up by someone who lived for gratification of having someone elses attention for five minutes or more through the bathroom walls, or a note passed through the shelves in the library as if such actions were anonymous.

no -- what mattered to seungjun was whether jongup’s eyes would glint like they had once before when they looked at him, and whether he could steal back that summer youth, that momentary happiness to protect himself from everything that pricked and dug into his mind like it were a pin cushion. it was selfish, but seungjun wouldn’t deny he was.

the left corner of his lip rising first at the dare, dipping his head in closer and humming. “i’m hungry enough to eat you,” seungjun’s voice dripped with warm honey, brown hues flickering around before they landed on jongup and he shrugged his shoulders as if it were nothing much.“or thats what the wolf says to red riding hood, right?” he adds, playing with his words and delighting in the game he makes up with himself.

there his fingers drift again, slipping up the line of jongup’s forearm and he tries not think too hardly on why he’s attached to the others body; it was mere attraction. he’d been thoroughly convinced of that since jongup arrived in hogwarts. memories of skin against skin and lips against lips, and nothing to do with the way the other would laugh or pout at him, and nothing to do with letters unsent in the fall afterwards.

“i will let you help me find a way to work it out,” seungjun suggests, tilting his head and jutting out his bottom lip as he motions with his finger. “you can take me for a run around the castle, help me break up a sweat and get worn out. it’ll be good for you. it would be sad to see you get out of shape or unhealthy because you at too much food.”

and he feels it, so loud, so clear, so unbearable raw, the voice, the words. seungjun’s words are even more painful than the act of recovering the forgotten memories, because he realizes his eyes aren’t the same, he’s not staring him with the same fondness jongup grew used to. it makes everything even more regretful and he doesn’t know how or where to start explaining because how do you tell someone your parents did something so horrid to you, that you don’t remember important parts of your life? it sounds like a lame excuse, a way of justifying himself, making that summer (because jongup remembers it was hot when they met, he remembers now the cool drinks he brought the two of them during a party he didn’t evenwant to attend but then had to be thankful for it) sound like something so unimportant that it was forgotten like that. dust in the wind. “i…i can explain…”, he tries at first, his arm reaching out to grab seungjun’s hand. he wants to lace their fingers and bring him close, he wants to hug him and get lost in the feeling that he’s slowly remembering so well, but he’s afraid and it’s been quite some time since he feared for something to escape his grasp that he messes up, the music now forgotten, everything forgotten but seungjun, never seungjun anymore, he promises. “can we talk? please?”

it had played on his mind that jongup had forgotten him, that the memories had slipped far beneath whoever else the younger had been fascinated by and whoever else he’d shared his bed with since. a brief and momentary affair that had held a piece of sentiment in seungjun’s heart and none on jongups. it hurt. it wasn’t supposed to hurt. it was supposed to be funny. it was supposed to elicit a teasing joke of how jongup was a complete fool for not recognizing him right away. but all the answer did, was radiate an ache in his bones as he listened to the other stammer in an attempt to soothe him. explanations didn’t change anything; how his father died, didn’t bring him back, and why his mother acted how she acted, didn’t undo the damage. “you don’t need to explain,” seungjun shakes his head, already sensing the tension in the air and preferring to avoid it. he didn’t want some spill of words to seep into the wound; he wanted to pretend there was no wound. it was nothing. it didn’t matter. it was stolen kisses one summer. he should have forgotten them too, like jongup did. another smile, wider this time, more determined to prove he was unaffected; that his heart didn’t feel like it was raw and stinging. “we can, if you want. but you don’t have to explain. you forgot. it happens.”

“You are so adorably cute", he says as a smile plays on his lips and the familiarity of that action is back full force, making jongup smile fondly at the other male that he now leads through the dance floor. their dance start slow, as if they’re trying to fit the music that’s playing but his eyes never leave his fellow Ravenclaw, nor does his smile and the touch of his fingers against the soft skin behind his neck “i’ll let you massage my feet if that happens”. they become impossibly close while in public, when seungjun rests his head on his shoulder and jongup wants nothing more than hold him, the feeling he gets whenever he’s with him, calming his tormented nights is enough to ignite that on him, as their bodies waltz in sync; the warmth from his body is enough for him, it makes him close his eyes and get lost on that momentarily, until he hears seungjun’s words and he stops. It’s not the taller male that is stepping on his toes, it’s jongup that does it, his eyes are wide now and he takes a small step back, the distance between them even if tiny, painful. “We…”, he starts, looking up and it’s as if he’s seeing seungjun for the first time - the suit he’s wearing, his smile, the lights around them, everything is part of a tale from another time, something that got lost but it’s back now, it’s back and it makes jongup gulp, his throat suddenly dry, head spinning as he tries to focus; it just hurts whenever the fragments of memories come back and he hates it because he’s not able to fake the confusion and the shame of not being able important things like that. “…we danced before. ”, he mutters, astonished. “I…I remember you. ”