#ncwonho

he hears him coming before he sees him--- stumbling feet dragging against the asphalt, clanking of a belt coming undone before he emerges around the corner. this john he has seen before, once, maybe twice, always wearing the same cheap, worn-out suit and the smell of musk and sweat. as if it would make him look less like the trash he is. he stops near jongin, looking down at him and digging his filthy fingers into his scalp, ruffling his hair, falsely thinking he has the right to do so. flashes his even filthier teeth at him when the boy shies away from the touch and looks away, bony fingers balling into fists at his sides. the john laughs, muttering something about the things he will do to his mother under his breath and disappears inside.

the walls around here are almost paper thin, just barely concealing the voices bleeding through. but in the silence of the nights, in his tiny room, he hears everything he thinks he doesn’t need, doesn’t want to hear.

the door slams shut with a promise of freedom, how short-lived it may be.

he wanders around like this sometimes, but it is never beyond these few blocks, these familiar streets. never too far from home yet at the same time just far enough from mother’s grasp. when she’s with the johns, she doesn’t even notice his absence. other times, she’s hysterical, weeping and kissing his cheeks, thanking a dear god for her son is back safe. on bad days, she loves him up close, whispering into his ears and fondling with her hands. (during these days, he wishes he could just shut himself off.)

the thought sends shivers running along his spine but he forces it out of his mind, instead focusing on following the cracks in the asphalt. the houses around the neighbourhood are all the same: small, dirty, quite rundown. he passes a street, another few densely built apartments, a man passed out under the stairs. the route to hoseok’s place is fresh in his memory.

but hesitation hits him when he’s standing outside another similar, small apartment, staring at the door as if it would give him the answers he desperately needed. should he knock? would hoseok get mad at him if he did? mother didn’t like it when he did that, he was not allowed to do that! he was always supposed to wait until she gets him, never to knock, never going in without her telling it was okay to do so.

eventually, he opts to climbing on top of the railing, simply sitting there, waiting.