staygame (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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merryfuture2023-07-12 01:28 pm
staygame) wrote in merryfuture2023-07-12 01:28 pm
Entry tags:
love or hate: all you need is me (2020)
all you need is me (ao3 link, see original work for author's notes) | love or hate, lee haesoo/choi joowon, mature, 2.k words
tags: canon compliant, dysfunctional relationships, mild sexual content, no plot/plotless, creator chose not to use archive warnings
content notes: canon typical sexuality and references to sex
---
The first time Joowon comes in his mouth, Haesoo nearly chokes, and then, to avoid said choking, spits the load out on the floor. His mouth tastes bitter and salty and there are tears in his eyes from the sputtering. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Joowon laughs at him. He leans back against the pillow and laughs, pointing at Haesoo's wet face.
"Stop it," Haesoo says. Shame flushes hot across his body, pinpricks burning his skin. He looks around for his underwear. "You're an asshole."
"You're funny," Joowon says.
He reaches for Haesoo's arm and Haesoo lets himself be tugged back across the bed. Joowon tilts Haesoo's chin up and kisses him until the acrid taste in Haesoo's mouth is gone.
"Your Orianna sucks," Joowon says.
They're at a PC Bang, in the back row of a dark room that smells like stale cigarette smoke, playing LoL side by side. Joowon let Haesoo take mid like he was doing him a huge favor, as though Joowon was some kind of Ambition himself.
Joowon paths his Shen through the mid lane, where he steals three of Haesoo's creeps before recalling. "You're 1/4," Haesoo points out.
"Better than being passive as fuck," Joowon says.
Haesoo rolls his eyes.
They lose their game. As the nexus explodes, Joowon pushes his chair back, stretching his arms up over his head. "You want snacks? My treat."
"Ramen. Whatever flavor is fine."
Joowon ruffles Haesoo's hair on his way out of the aisle.
As Haesoo smoothes his hair down, he reflects. The whole afternoon was weird. Joowon had caught up with Haesoo at the school gate and refused to let him go his separate way. He'd dragged Haesoo here, saying, "I don't want to go home yet", and then he paid for both of their minutes. Haesoo thinks this may be the most time they've spent together without fighting or fucking since their parents married.
Joowon returns balancing two bowls of ramen and two milk sodas tucked under his armpits. "Let's see who can finish the bowl fastest," Joowon says.
Haesoo shakes his head. "That's stupid." But when Joowon holds his chopsticks up to his lips and says go!, Haesoo's competitive drive kicks in. The spice burns his throat as he eats, shoveling noodles into his mouth and barely even chewing before he swallows. He looks over at Joowon, who has a trail of orange soup dripping down his chin, and then Haesoo laughs, nearly choking on his noodles.
It's with this loss of momentum that Haesoo loses. He can hear Joowon slurping up the last of his soup and then the bowl slams down against the table. "Done," Joowon calls out, wiping his chin triumphantly.
Haesoo sets his bowl down, scowling. He was just another couple mouthfuls behind. "What do you want, then?"
"A kiss," Joowon says. Haesoo expected nothing less.
"No way, not here."
"No one is looking," Joowon points out.
His mouth is stained vibrant red from the ramen as he leans in, smacking a kiss against Haesoo's mouth. Just as quickly as he'd swooped in, Joowon's leaning back in his seat, already queuing up another game.
"Wanna support me this time? Play 'Raka, since you like being passive so much."
Haesoo tugs at the collar of his turtleneck, warm all over.
They slept together, sometimes. The first time had been an accident, the late evening sun streaming in warm through Haesoo's windows, lulling the two of them into a post-orgasm nap. Haesoo had woken up when it was dark and rubbed groggily at his eyes, only realizing once he'd sat up that Joowon was curled up next to him on the twin bed. Asleep, Joowon looked softer, mouth slack and eyebrows relaxed. Haesoo let his hand hover over Joowon's cheek for a long time, but then Joowon stirred and he dropped it down to the bed.
This time, it's the middle of the day. His mom had left early that morning to attend an all-day conference and Joowon's dad was in Shanghai on business. Joowon had accosted Haesoo on his way to the bathroom and dragged him back to Joowon's bed. Haesoo, underweight and unathletic, was easily tugged, much to his resentment.
He'd expected Joowon to touch him, but Joowon only snaked himself around Haesoo's back, their bodies pressed flush together. The sound of his breath slowing down eased Haesoo back to sleep before long.
Haesoo wakes cotton-mouthed and a little sweaty around his collar, bangs sticking to his forehead. Joowon is still spooning him, his body entirely too warm, and Haesoo tries to push himself away. The grip around his stomach tightens.
"Get off me, you oaf," Haesoo mutters.
"You're comfortable."
"You're too hot."
At this, Joowon moves. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, face peering down at Haesoo's. "Too hot, huh?"
"You know that's not what I meant," Haesoo says, turning his gaze away from Joowon.
Joowon flicks his finger against Haesoo's forehead. "Let's stay in bed all day."
"I'm hungry," Haesoo says. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Isn't hanging out with my favorite brother a good use of my time?"
The word brother rings in Haesoo's ears, a lump rising in his throat. Brothers don't do what they do. It's wrong. Joowon can be flippant about it all he wants but it's wrong, they both know that.
"Stay," Joowon says. He tilts his head down, capturing Haesoo's mouth in a kiss, and Haesoo lets himself fall.
Haesoo remembers their first time together with sharp clarity. The way his jeans, tugged down to his knees, chafed his skin. The way Joowon pressed a thumb to Haesoo's cheek to wipe away his tears. The way that, when Haesoo put a hand over his mouth to hide his whine, Joowon had tugged it away and reminded him, "Our parents aren't home."
He realizes, as his mom's car pulls away from the house, he doesn't remember their last time together at all. If he'd known, then maybe he would've committed the details to memory, would've spent more time taking in the sensations of Joowon's touch, or the way that they'd kissed.
He thinks about Joowon's face in the dimly lit hallway, the confusion and hurt etched across his features in the moment before Haesoo turned away. Maybe this is all for the best.
When Haesoo looks down, he's picked the skin around his thumb raw.
It's late when Haesoo gets the phone call. He has revisions on his short story due tomorrow and writer's block has left him staring at a blinking cursor for the better part of an hour, so he lets the call go to voicemail without looking.
His phone buzzes with a text, then two more in quick succession, and Haesoo picks up his phone with a sigh.
Unknown Sender (22:13): Haesoo, it's Park Joonhyuk.
Unknown Sender (22:13): Joowon's manager
Unknown Sender (22:13): Can you call me back?
Haesoo's heart lurches in his chest, as though his body has suddenly lost touch with gravity. His hands shake when he presses Joonhyuk's number.
"Lee Haesoo? Joowon's brother?"
We're not brothers anymore, Haesoo thinks. "That's me," he says.
"I'm sorry to be calling so late. You're listed as one of Joowon's emergency contacts," Joonhyuk explains.
"Emergency?" Haesoo repeats. "What's wrong?"
In the background, Haesoo can hear the steady clicking of a turn signal. "He stormed off set again earlier. He's probably fine." Joonhyuk sighs. "But the bastard's not answering his phone and the last thing he needs is another scandal for the company to clean up. Could you try calling him? See if he'll pick up for you?"
"We're not really that close anymore," Haesoo says, but the word emergency flashes through his mind again. "I'll try him."
Haesoo has to stand up to make the call. The nervous energy has spread from his hands all the way down to his feet and he paces the length of his bedroom as the phone rings, rings, rings. Then, there's a click.
"Hi, Haesoo."
Tears well up in Haesoo's eyes at the sound of Joowon's voice, but he wills them back. "Hyung, where are you?"
"Did my manager call you? Is that why I'm hearing from you after three years?"
"He's worried about you."
"He can eat shit."
Haesoo squeezes his phone tight in his hand. "Call him back, hyung."
"I don't want to talk to him," Joowon says, words slurring. "I only want to talk to you."
This is how Haesoo ends up in a cab on his way to the location that Joowon sent him. He'd made up a lie for his mother, an emergency at the university magazine instead of rushing off to see the former son that she hated.
He sees Joowon from behind first, a dark figure on a bench in front of the river. For a moment, Haesoo considers texting the address to Joowon's manager and slipping back into the night, letting their relationship remain firmly in the past. But old habits die hard and even after three years, the urge to capture Joowon's attention is a reflex Haesoo never grew out of. He stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets and walks forward.
Joowon looks up at the sound of crunching leaves. Haesoo's body keeps moving but his mind is elsewhere, trying to reconcile the image of the 23-year-old Joowon in front of him with the teenage Joowon that lives in his memories. It's not as though he hasn't seen Joowon in magazine adverts or in previews for episodes of dramas, but it's different to see him up close. His hair is longer than it had ever been back then, loose strands falling down in front of his face. His mouth is set in a straight line. Haesoo can't read his expression.
"Long time no see," Joowon says as Haesoo settles across from him on the bench. He's holding a bottle of Cass, pulled from a six-pack on the ground, and he takes a long swig from it as he surveys Haesoo. Then, he taps his own ear. "The piercings are new."
Haesoo reaches for his earrings, the metal cold against his skin. "Yeah," he says. He's never been good at small talk. "Your manager seems really worried about you."
Joowon scoffs around the rim of his bottle. "He's the one that booked me for that stupid fucking show in the first place. I told him I didn't want to do it."
"So you're throwing a tantrum because of that?" Haesoo asks.
"Is that any way to talk to your hyung?"
"And how should I talk to you?" It's a defense mechanism, choosing frigidity over tenderness.
Joowon leans forward, and Haesoo wonders if he's on something else besides alcohol, because his pupils are wide and dark even in the dim light. "Like you miss me," he says.
"I—"
"Because I miss you," Joowon says, pressing a hand to Haesoo's cheek.
Inside his jacket pocket, Haesoo digs the nail of his middle finger into his thumb. He's often thought about Joowon leaning in to kiss him all those years ago, what he must have seen on Haesoo's face when he pulled away that made him go back in for seconds. Haesoo should be better at masking his vulnerability now, but he can't help the way his mouth parts in a quiet gasp, his breath puffing in the cold air.
"I never felt lonely when we were together," Joowon says.
He's leaning in before Haesoo has processed his words, his mouth hot against Haesoo's. The kiss is all force and no grace, and want pools in Haesoo's body immediately, every neuron firing at once. Three years of remembering, hundreds of words typed and deleted—it's nothing on the real thing.
The beer slips loose from Joowon's other hand, clattering to the ground, and it startles Haesoo back and away from Joowon's kiss.
"We can't," Haesoo says, a lump forming in his throat.
"Who says?" Joowon asks. He grabs Haesoo's trembling hands in his own. "What do you want?"
Haesoo has to look away from the desperation in Joowon's eyes. He wants to have heeded Joowon's warning not to fall for him. He wants Joowon to touch him. He wants to be loved.
You've always done what you wanted anyway, hyung, Haesoo thinks. But he'll always fall right back into this trap.
tags: canon compliant, dysfunctional relationships, mild sexual content, no plot/plotless, creator chose not to use archive warnings
content notes: canon typical sexuality and references to sex
---
The first time Joowon comes in his mouth, Haesoo nearly chokes, and then, to avoid said choking, spits the load out on the floor. His mouth tastes bitter and salty and there are tears in his eyes from the sputtering. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Joowon laughs at him. He leans back against the pillow and laughs, pointing at Haesoo's wet face.
"Stop it," Haesoo says. Shame flushes hot across his body, pinpricks burning his skin. He looks around for his underwear. "You're an asshole."
"You're funny," Joowon says.
He reaches for Haesoo's arm and Haesoo lets himself be tugged back across the bed. Joowon tilts Haesoo's chin up and kisses him until the acrid taste in Haesoo's mouth is gone.
"Your Orianna sucks," Joowon says.
They're at a PC Bang, in the back row of a dark room that smells like stale cigarette smoke, playing LoL side by side. Joowon let Haesoo take mid like he was doing him a huge favor, as though Joowon was some kind of Ambition himself.
Joowon paths his Shen through the mid lane, where he steals three of Haesoo's creeps before recalling. "You're 1/4," Haesoo points out.
"Better than being passive as fuck," Joowon says.
Haesoo rolls his eyes.
They lose their game. As the nexus explodes, Joowon pushes his chair back, stretching his arms up over his head. "You want snacks? My treat."
"Ramen. Whatever flavor is fine."
Joowon ruffles Haesoo's hair on his way out of the aisle.
As Haesoo smoothes his hair down, he reflects. The whole afternoon was weird. Joowon had caught up with Haesoo at the school gate and refused to let him go his separate way. He'd dragged Haesoo here, saying, "I don't want to go home yet", and then he paid for both of their minutes. Haesoo thinks this may be the most time they've spent together without fighting or fucking since their parents married.
Joowon returns balancing two bowls of ramen and two milk sodas tucked under his armpits. "Let's see who can finish the bowl fastest," Joowon says.
Haesoo shakes his head. "That's stupid." But when Joowon holds his chopsticks up to his lips and says go!, Haesoo's competitive drive kicks in. The spice burns his throat as he eats, shoveling noodles into his mouth and barely even chewing before he swallows. He looks over at Joowon, who has a trail of orange soup dripping down his chin, and then Haesoo laughs, nearly choking on his noodles.
It's with this loss of momentum that Haesoo loses. He can hear Joowon slurping up the last of his soup and then the bowl slams down against the table. "Done," Joowon calls out, wiping his chin triumphantly.
Haesoo sets his bowl down, scowling. He was just another couple mouthfuls behind. "What do you want, then?"
"A kiss," Joowon says. Haesoo expected nothing less.
"No way, not here."
"No one is looking," Joowon points out.
His mouth is stained vibrant red from the ramen as he leans in, smacking a kiss against Haesoo's mouth. Just as quickly as he'd swooped in, Joowon's leaning back in his seat, already queuing up another game.
"Wanna support me this time? Play 'Raka, since you like being passive so much."
Haesoo tugs at the collar of his turtleneck, warm all over.
They slept together, sometimes. The first time had been an accident, the late evening sun streaming in warm through Haesoo's windows, lulling the two of them into a post-orgasm nap. Haesoo had woken up when it was dark and rubbed groggily at his eyes, only realizing once he'd sat up that Joowon was curled up next to him on the twin bed. Asleep, Joowon looked softer, mouth slack and eyebrows relaxed. Haesoo let his hand hover over Joowon's cheek for a long time, but then Joowon stirred and he dropped it down to the bed.
This time, it's the middle of the day. His mom had left early that morning to attend an all-day conference and Joowon's dad was in Shanghai on business. Joowon had accosted Haesoo on his way to the bathroom and dragged him back to Joowon's bed. Haesoo, underweight and unathletic, was easily tugged, much to his resentment.
He'd expected Joowon to touch him, but Joowon only snaked himself around Haesoo's back, their bodies pressed flush together. The sound of his breath slowing down eased Haesoo back to sleep before long.
Haesoo wakes cotton-mouthed and a little sweaty around his collar, bangs sticking to his forehead. Joowon is still spooning him, his body entirely too warm, and Haesoo tries to push himself away. The grip around his stomach tightens.
"Get off me, you oaf," Haesoo mutters.
"You're comfortable."
"You're too hot."
At this, Joowon moves. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, face peering down at Haesoo's. "Too hot, huh?"
"You know that's not what I meant," Haesoo says, turning his gaze away from Joowon.
Joowon flicks his finger against Haesoo's forehead. "Let's stay in bed all day."
"I'm hungry," Haesoo says. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Isn't hanging out with my favorite brother a good use of my time?"
The word brother rings in Haesoo's ears, a lump rising in his throat. Brothers don't do what they do. It's wrong. Joowon can be flippant about it all he wants but it's wrong, they both know that.
"Stay," Joowon says. He tilts his head down, capturing Haesoo's mouth in a kiss, and Haesoo lets himself fall.
Haesoo remembers their first time together with sharp clarity. The way his jeans, tugged down to his knees, chafed his skin. The way Joowon pressed a thumb to Haesoo's cheek to wipe away his tears. The way that, when Haesoo put a hand over his mouth to hide his whine, Joowon had tugged it away and reminded him, "Our parents aren't home."
He realizes, as his mom's car pulls away from the house, he doesn't remember their last time together at all. If he'd known, then maybe he would've committed the details to memory, would've spent more time taking in the sensations of Joowon's touch, or the way that they'd kissed.
He thinks about Joowon's face in the dimly lit hallway, the confusion and hurt etched across his features in the moment before Haesoo turned away. Maybe this is all for the best.
When Haesoo looks down, he's picked the skin around his thumb raw.
It's late when Haesoo gets the phone call. He has revisions on his short story due tomorrow and writer's block has left him staring at a blinking cursor for the better part of an hour, so he lets the call go to voicemail without looking.
His phone buzzes with a text, then two more in quick succession, and Haesoo picks up his phone with a sigh.
Unknown Sender (22:13): Haesoo, it's Park Joonhyuk.
Unknown Sender (22:13): Joowon's manager
Unknown Sender (22:13): Can you call me back?
Haesoo's heart lurches in his chest, as though his body has suddenly lost touch with gravity. His hands shake when he presses Joonhyuk's number.
"Lee Haesoo? Joowon's brother?"
We're not brothers anymore, Haesoo thinks. "That's me," he says.
"I'm sorry to be calling so late. You're listed as one of Joowon's emergency contacts," Joonhyuk explains.
"Emergency?" Haesoo repeats. "What's wrong?"
In the background, Haesoo can hear the steady clicking of a turn signal. "He stormed off set again earlier. He's probably fine." Joonhyuk sighs. "But the bastard's not answering his phone and the last thing he needs is another scandal for the company to clean up. Could you try calling him? See if he'll pick up for you?"
"We're not really that close anymore," Haesoo says, but the word emergency flashes through his mind again. "I'll try him."
Haesoo has to stand up to make the call. The nervous energy has spread from his hands all the way down to his feet and he paces the length of his bedroom as the phone rings, rings, rings. Then, there's a click.
"Hi, Haesoo."
Tears well up in Haesoo's eyes at the sound of Joowon's voice, but he wills them back. "Hyung, where are you?"
"Did my manager call you? Is that why I'm hearing from you after three years?"
"He's worried about you."
"He can eat shit."
Haesoo squeezes his phone tight in his hand. "Call him back, hyung."
"I don't want to talk to him," Joowon says, words slurring. "I only want to talk to you."
This is how Haesoo ends up in a cab on his way to the location that Joowon sent him. He'd made up a lie for his mother, an emergency at the university magazine instead of rushing off to see the former son that she hated.
He sees Joowon from behind first, a dark figure on a bench in front of the river. For a moment, Haesoo considers texting the address to Joowon's manager and slipping back into the night, letting their relationship remain firmly in the past. But old habits die hard and even after three years, the urge to capture Joowon's attention is a reflex Haesoo never grew out of. He stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets and walks forward.
Joowon looks up at the sound of crunching leaves. Haesoo's body keeps moving but his mind is elsewhere, trying to reconcile the image of the 23-year-old Joowon in front of him with the teenage Joowon that lives in his memories. It's not as though he hasn't seen Joowon in magazine adverts or in previews for episodes of dramas, but it's different to see him up close. His hair is longer than it had ever been back then, loose strands falling down in front of his face. His mouth is set in a straight line. Haesoo can't read his expression.
"Long time no see," Joowon says as Haesoo settles across from him on the bench. He's holding a bottle of Cass, pulled from a six-pack on the ground, and he takes a long swig from it as he surveys Haesoo. Then, he taps his own ear. "The piercings are new."
Haesoo reaches for his earrings, the metal cold against his skin. "Yeah," he says. He's never been good at small talk. "Your manager seems really worried about you."
Joowon scoffs around the rim of his bottle. "He's the one that booked me for that stupid fucking show in the first place. I told him I didn't want to do it."
"So you're throwing a tantrum because of that?" Haesoo asks.
"Is that any way to talk to your hyung?"
"And how should I talk to you?" It's a defense mechanism, choosing frigidity over tenderness.
Joowon leans forward, and Haesoo wonders if he's on something else besides alcohol, because his pupils are wide and dark even in the dim light. "Like you miss me," he says.
"I—"
"Because I miss you," Joowon says, pressing a hand to Haesoo's cheek.
Inside his jacket pocket, Haesoo digs the nail of his middle finger into his thumb. He's often thought about Joowon leaning in to kiss him all those years ago, what he must have seen on Haesoo's face when he pulled away that made him go back in for seconds. Haesoo should be better at masking his vulnerability now, but he can't help the way his mouth parts in a quiet gasp, his breath puffing in the cold air.
"I never felt lonely when we were together," Joowon says.
He's leaning in before Haesoo has processed his words, his mouth hot against Haesoo's. The kiss is all force and no grace, and want pools in Haesoo's body immediately, every neuron firing at once. Three years of remembering, hundreds of words typed and deleted—it's nothing on the real thing.
The beer slips loose from Joowon's other hand, clattering to the ground, and it startles Haesoo back and away from Joowon's kiss.
"We can't," Haesoo says, a lump forming in his throat.
"Who says?" Joowon asks. He grabs Haesoo's trembling hands in his own. "What do you want?"
Haesoo has to look away from the desperation in Joowon's eyes. He wants to have heeded Joowon's warning not to fall for him. He wants Joowon to touch him. He wants to be loved.
You've always done what you wanted anyway, hyung, Haesoo thinks. But he'll always fall right back into this trap.