great ones escape.

hongbin | 23 ╵supernatural thievery

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ roll the dice ☘

[advhongbin-blog]

sanghyuk.

“I know this may come as a shocker to you, but I am a normal human who just happens to be very good at stealing things. And stealing things, unfortunately, does not actually mean I am a paranoid piece of shit who likes to run around Incheon with a handy dandy bag of useful tools on my back.” He’d attempted to snap back in a low hiss, but by the end had transformed it into a husky almost-whisper. Sanghyuk could only make a face at Hongbin’s threat with one of his hands raised in dismay before returning to the piece of drapery in his grasp. “Don’t you mean I’ll leave you as bait? And I wish—I think they killed all the hot girls already.” The young man turned sulky, and it was difficult to tell if he was joking or actually serious.

There were a few more moments of Sanghyuk attempting to wrap the cloth around himself without looking like a fool, and then Hongbin called out his name and yanked the fabric out of his hands. “Hey—“ He dropped off midsentence when he was almost spun around in the other’s much-better attempt at first aid. A thief Sanghyuk was, but a medic he was not. For dramatic flair, he made a show of sucking in his breath as the cloth was tightly wrapped, but otherwise he made surprisingly-little fuss after the tiny whirlwind of snark he’d kicked up earlier.

He looked down, lightly patting his torso. The pressure still made him wince, but at least he could be assured that blood loss would not be a possible cause of death tonight. His lips pressed together and he quickly turned away from Hongbin. Sanghyuk’s face scrunched up momentarily as he spat out a quiet ‘thank you’ before kicking the other man in the leg to make himself feel better.

Sanghyuk opened his mouth to throw more biting comments, but stilled when the hallway shook softly. Mouth hanging, he shared a look with Hongbin before breaking out into short, breathless laughter. “No way…right?”

A sinking feeling in his stomach.

Sanghyuk is an eyeroll worthy presence, but it’s a familiar one in this unfamiliar hell, and he should probably be grateful for that. If he is, it’s as hard to tell as Hongbin’s thoughts ever really are ─ he isn’t like Sanghyuk, capable of putting on an act to accomplish whatever he wants. He’s actually really bad at that, the whole acting thing; if there’s something on his mind, he either says it outright or not at all. Coming up with false words just to direct a situation is too much beyond him to even bother with.

Regardless of how close they are, having Sanghyuk not die here on his watch is good enough for him as far as Hongbin’s concerned. There’s nothing nearby threatening to tear them both to pieces, so it’s hardly an issue in terms of going out of his way or putting himself in danger. Whether the younger lives through the night, however, has little to do with him ─ though there’s a part of him that’s already pretty settled on having Sanghyuk at his side, so maybe it won’t be all too hard. 

(He’d never admit it, but being alone in this place is significantly more distressing than not ─ it’s already a problem for one who’s so keen on playing lone wolf, for one who’d ditched the closest actual friends he has from the get-go, and instinct shoves it down into the territory of his thoughts that’re near deafened by the screaming in his head.)

He’s just about to bark out some comment to follow up with the hiss he gives at Sanghyuk’s kick ─ because really? ─ but in a similar fashion as Sanghyuk himself, he freezes, eyes widening. Not again ─ weren’t they done with this? Couldn’t they have at least ten minutes without having to deal with this shit? 

Of course not, because each time he plays with chance this night, he’s slated to lose. 

His hand’s around Sanghyuk’s wrist before he knows it, squeezing tight ─ he’s all but ready to start dragging him along again, though he’s already taking slow steps backwards, away from the noise. “We gotta go.” It comes as a whisper of sorts and it’s more towards himself than Sanghyuk, but that doesn’t stop him from repeating it another three times in the same manner. “Now ─ we have to ─”

As if on cue, the monster they’d just barely lost comes barreling around the corner, nearly half tearing into the wall as it does. Like a frightened stray cat, Hongbin starts running, dragging Sanghyuk along with him with a bark of “Stop bein’ so damn slow!” as if it’d help much in a situation like this. 

[hongbeanbong]

COEX Fansign 161111 cr. HealingBin // Do not edit!

[advyeji-blog]

╳ cat and mouse.

[advhongbin-blog]

yeji.

— @advhongbin

Yeji loves mutants. She’s never been even slightly subtle about this fact; she loves them, all the crazy new things they bring to the table. She likes to fight with them and pester them and learn all about their abilities; she fits right in with the world of the extraordinary that way, enough so that a fair number of people don’t even realize that she’s not a mutant. Maybe that’s mostly the eyes. Maybe it’s her personality. She doesn’t really care; she doesn’t normally correct them either way.

And when it comes to mutants, Yeji especially loves ones that pose her a challenge. Not an unreasonable challenge like trying to fight Zitao when he’s basically an impenetrable wall or racing some asshole who can run at the speed of sound, but a doable challenge – something that makes her try that much harder, push herself that much farther.

And that is why Yeji is utterly infatuated with hunting Lee Hongbin.

He’s so damn hard to notice, but he’s not totally imperceptible yet – Yeji has to hone in with all her might to pick up his trail, and even then it can be hard to actually sort it out if he’s not still close by. But that makes this little game of cat and mouse all the more exciting for her; she lives for the thrill of the hunt, the challenge of the almost-uncatchable game. It makes her blood flow hot; she feels so damn alive like this.

The most satisfying moment is when she finally catches that sneaky fox, leaping out of the shadows of some foliage by the exercise track to tackle him to the ground triumphantly.

“I finally caught ya!” she giggles, practically wagging her tail as she straddles the far-larger male’s backside. “Damn, you’re good. I almost didn’t catch you.” And in Yeji’s book, that’s damn good indeed. She quirks a grin that almost seems to bare sharp teeth, but there’s not much threat meant in it – she’s genuinely enjoying herself, which might be threatening all on its own, really.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were skipping out on our training session – but you weren’t doin’ that, right, Hongbin-oppa? You were just givin’ me an even better one this way.”

Yeji can be too much sometimes. 

Hongbin’s not so terribly introverted that he finds himself drained of energy just from being around certain kinds of people, but there’s always some sensation of sighing dread that comes with working with Yeji. Maybe it’s because she always seems so... ambitious, amped up about something that he hardly ever understands. Maybe it’s because he always seems to be the target of that ambition whether he likes it or not.

Actually, that’s probably the exact reason right there. Too bad he’s too busy groaning, face down in the grass, wondering how the hell she managed to find him after he’d put so much thought (see also: not too much thought) into trying to ditch her this afternoon.

“Yeah,” he grunts, an answer to her first suspicion that only manages to come off as vague and easily misconstrued. He was, in fact, skipping out on the session they’d planned, but alas – how successful that plan had been was clearly seen here. “How’d y’even – what were you doing – hunting?” He should probably know better, given who he’s talking to; Yeji’s good at that, after all, so there’s no real surprise to be had in the idea of her hunting him down like this.

Even if it is, again, too much as far as Hongbin’s concerned. 

It’s not much because it’s Yeji that he has no issue whatsoever with pushing himself up just enough to sharply turn to throw her off – it takes a bit of work, even though she’s not all too heavy, but the purpose of not training with her was because he wasn’t interested in it. Really, he would’ve been this kind of rough with anyone who’d decided to pounce on him out of nowhere, but Yeji gets the bonus treatment because she is, in fact, who she is. 

Maybe he puts a little extra power behind it just because he knows she’s excited. No one can call him out on it right now. Maybe he’s just a little bitter because now it’s gonna be even harder to lose her trail now that she’s onto him. 

(Actually, that gives him a bit of an idea.)

“Yah, Yeji.” he’s still grumbling just as much, even as he dusts off his clothes and pushes himself up. “Let’s play a game.” 

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ like a brick wall ☘

@advmin

He hates losing. 

This fact isn’t something secret when it comes to Hongbin; the taste of a loss is like a shot of whiskey ─ it burns on the way down and he hates every second of having to deal with the taste. And yet despite this, despite the threat of losing lingering on the horizon each time, he can’t resist a challenge when it’s thrown at him; it’s a vice among vices, and Hongbin’s fairly weak in that regard. 

Doing this every time is almost like an addiction ─ or at least it’d probably seem like one, given how he never seems to let it go. Him giving it up is just as unlikely an outcome as a successful intervention, but at least this sort of thing isn’t something that hurts others. 

No, the only thing that hurts here is his pride when the bold, red letters flash DEFEAT on his screen.

The scowl on his face is impossible to hide, but it’s not like he’s making any attempt to do such a thing; he’s practically baring his teeth at the screen, throwing a vehement glare down at the controller he opted to use. Was it better to use a keyboard and mouse? He’s just as bad at that as he is with the controller in the first place, so did it really make any difference? He really doesn’t know. 

But she does, he’s sure. 

Frustration pools within him as he shifts in his seat in order to look at his opponent. That made how many wins, now? He’s not even sure ─ the repetition of losing should’ve warded him off this game already (at least for today ─ how many hours have they been at this? has it even been long? was this pc bang closing anytime soon?), but no. Not yet. Not until he beats her. 

“Again,” he declares, eyes narrowed and resolve nearly palpable. “I’ll choose the map.” Again.

Maybe he’s using the wrong character. Maybe if he stuck to one character instead of changing after every time, he’d find some play style he’s actually good at. 

(Go figure, playing the slow ones doesn’t exactly suit his style ─ but he thinks that maybe he’ll find some secret to besting Minyoung by playing almost every character available.)

[yixingadv-blog]

– gotta go fast。

[advhongbin-blog]

yixing.

It takes no more than a couple of minutes for the victor to this challenge to be declared. The two of them seemed to be evenly matched for a good part of the laps that were run, only for things to take a turn as the end drew closer – Yixing was far from being out of breath, he conserved his energy well and thus sprinted towards the finish line when there were just a few hundred meters left to go over.

He emerges victorious from the race, throws his arms up in the air once he stops running and, opposed to Hongbin, tastes the sweetness of victory on his tongue. The two of them were renowned for doing a variety of ridiculous challenges every so often, some more ridiculous than others; this was on the lighter side, or would be if it wasn’t for the sudden reminder that Yixing could now ask Hongbin to do something. Anything – his mind could run as free as it wished, so he allows himself to search for an idea that would be most suiting as a request.

The grin that overtakes his lips speaks for itself. 

Casually, he steps over to the other and slings an arm around Hongbing’s shoulders to drawing him closer. “So! Since I managed to beat you at this,” the words are carefully punctuated, since there was no use in relishing in this if a bit of salt wouldn’t be poured onto an open wound. Yixing is far from being cruel, he thinks – this is nothing more than a playful jab. “You have to do something for me now, Binnie.”

A bit of a dramatic pause is purposely made, meant to rile the other up more; it doesn’t help with how unsettling the grin is, either. “I want you to sing the ‘I’m a little teapot’ song, while dancing along to the lyrics,” it’s difficult not to burst out into laughter at the foolishness that the request was, though Yixing manages to keep himself in check for the most part. Give or take the short bursts of chuckling, at least.

“Right, though! You’ll do all that while I record you with my phone,” on cue, he draws back and begins to search himself for the respective object. It’s fished out from the side-pocket of his shorts and dangled in front of Hongbin in a taunting manner, “I’m ready whenever you are!”

Hongbin doesn’t hate his life. He never has, has never truly found it in him to regret his existence for any one reason or another. After all, for someone who’s struggled to keep himself afloat for a decidedly important portion of his years, it’d be fairly redundant to wish something like death upon himself over anything.

This moment, uncontested, is the closest he’s ever gotten to reaching that point.

He grits his teeth but somehow prevents himself from outright swatting Yixing’s arm from around him ─ the glare he instead shoots the other is one Yixing’s surely used to by now, which somehow muddles its effectiveness. What he can’t hold himself back from doing is shrugging the elder away at the use of the annoying nickname; it goes without saying that Yixing knows exactly how to push his buttons in even the slightest of ways, and Hongbin isn’t so entirely oblivious that he’d be unaware that it’s exactly what Yixing’s doing, here.

Unfortunately enough, it’s effective because it works so well, regardless of whether or not Hongbin’s aware of it or not. Naturally it renders that knowledge a bit useless, as things go.

He can be naive sometimes but he knows better than to assume that whatever it is that Yixing decides to ask of him would be anything but embarrassing in some way or another. He’s expecting it, bracing himself for whatever it is that Yixing’s plotting behind that grin of his ─ but it’s pointless, because the words that come out of Yixing’s mouth might as well be in Chinese seeing as for a few moments, Hongbin has no idea what he just heard.

“You what?” There’s no need to repeat it ─ rather, there’s no time given to repeat it; the way Hongbin’s expression falls into something more resembling that of ‘I’d very much like to strangle you right now’ than any kind of look that should be directed towards a friend makes it clear enough that he’s heard the request (order, really) well enough.

He wants to say no. He wants to say hell no, even, the words so strongly on his tongue that it takes him biting down just to keep them from casting themselves into existence. There’s no point; he knows good and well that whatever the resulting punishment is, it’d be worse (somehow ─ god) than what he’d already was meant to deal with. 

This isn’t gonna stop him from hating every last second of it, though. Not by a long shot. It’s gonna echo in his scowl and the way he growls out the words to that ridiculous nursery rhyme (words that he actually stumbles and pauses over multiple times; does Yixing know how long it’s been since he’s heard that shit? Does he realize how long ago early primary school was?), but it’ll be just as easily be found by the way his brows furrow in annoyance, his motions (mistaken easily enough for ‘dancing’) mechanical and so clearly forced. 

If Yixing forgets to press record during the whole thing, then wouldn’t that a blessing?

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ once in a while ☘

His mother always made the best kimchi stew.

It could be dinner for weeks on end and he’d still assure her of such wholeheartedly, as if he’d never need to eat anything else. He doesn’t remember when he learned that it was always kimchi stew (when there was anything resembling a full meal at all) because the price was cheap, but at the time it only served as a point of curiousity and wonder ─ if she could make this taste so good when it was supposed to be cheap, then his mother must be a goddess of cooking.

(She wasn’t, really; it was a simple matter of perfected what’d been made numerous times before, but this isn’t something Hongbin will ever know.) 

Sometimes, his dad would talk about the things they’d dreamt about when they were younger by a few years ─ always with a wistful and nostalgic smile on his face, with a tone befitting something like the telling of a bedtime story. He draws Hongbin in each time; he learns of his mother’s artistic aspirations and his father’s desire to see the world, and Hongbin’s told (for the hundredth time, he’s sure) that one day, they’ll go back to travelling the way they had been before ─ only this time, Hongbin will get to experience it with them, too. 

(Later in his teen years, he’ll pick up his father’s trait of wanderlust, though it develops so naturally that Hongbin doesn’t make the connection.)

He worries, far too early in age, that he’ll disappoint them somehow. He’s always told not to mind his fluctuating primary school grades, always reassured that discovering what it is he’s talented in is what’s most important ─ but even then he doesn’t think he has much to offer. He doesn’t turn out to be artistic like his mom or as good as taking pictures as his dad is; he’s good at taking care of the house when they’re gone and he’s learned how to make kimbap rolls pretty reliably, but those are things that anyone could learn to do. He’s more self-conscious about it than he lets on, even at his age; he wants to ask them about it, too ─ how did they discover the things they were best at? Did it take a while?

(It’s a question he procrastinates day after day; they’re tired from work anyways, and he wants them to get their rest, so he’ll ask tomorrow. Always tomorrow.)

The chance for ‘tomorrow’ doesn’t come one day, and he’s just old enough to be aware of how likely it is that it won’t no matter how many days he stays up late. His thoughts are too preoccupied for regret or grief of any kind ─ it doesn’t sink in, really, despite how quick he is to declare them dead. It never sinks in deep enough for him to believe it any deeper than the surface; the thought makes it easier, but only if it’s kept at a distance. He doesn’t dwell on it, doesn’t dwell on them ─ he focuses on himself instead, on surviving day by day (even when it gets to a point where it’s not nearly as difficult as it used to be, he pretends that it’s not a luxury that he’ll keep). He doesn’t think of them, not really. 

Only when he tries to figure out why his kimchi stew doesn’t taste as good as his mother’s, and only when he finds himself sitting outside, wondering if the streets of another country would look the same at night; only then does he think of them, and only then does he dwell on the fact that he’d never found out the circumstances behind their disappearances (or their deaths, as he’d always labeled). 

Only then does he wonder if this, living the life he lives with the people he’s (unintentionally) grown close to, in this place harboring abnormalities of all sorts ─ if being one of those abnormalities, himself ─ would be something that they’d be proud of. 

(It’s a hard question in his own head and he’ll likely never have the answer to it, but he thinks he’ll never have the chance to ask, anyway.)

[advhyuna]

an unwelcome guest

[advhongbin-blog]

hyuna.

Hyuna stares the intruder down, eye twitching but otherwise, her expression is blank. Her stance is something else entirely, clearly prepared to fight him from the way her limbs minutely twitch with the energy coiled behind them (or possibly finish him off, as the case may very well be) should he present more of a threat. (What constitutes a threat here is unclear even to Hyuna, but it’s fairly clear she’s ready to rough him up regardless of whatever excuse he might possibly have for entering her room.)

“Mistake?” she repeats incredulously, and her grip tightens on his shirt before shoving him forward, instead gesturing wildly with her hands. “Lookin’? Since when was barging into someone’s dorm room in the dead of the night looking?” 

She’s met a few of Kyungil’s acquaintances – her roommate is very amiable (even she is aware of this fact) but she doesn’t recognize this particular guy at all. Much less, who breaks into their acquaintances’ rooms at night to see them? (Even if she weren’t entirely caught off guard by the thief entering her room by mistake, Hyuna is hardly the type to realize the reality of the situation: she truly has no clue of why, painfully innocent in that way.) It’s natural then that, despite the familiarity in his words, she fairly quickly rules out the possibility that this intruder’s intentions are anything but harmful. 

She isn’t conscious either of how protective she is of her roommate already either, but it’s evident in how she still bristles aggressively, ready to place herself between Kyungil and this intruder. She quite literally stands between aforementioned intruder and the door, her expression breaking with a curl of her lips then that’s not too dissimilar from the snarl of a guard dog. She’s at least reasonable enough to let him catch his breath, before she demands a more thorough explanation, her stance loosening only slightly but nonetheless still threatening.

“Did you need something from Kyungil? At this hour? Or were you were planning on doing something to him?” The questions are rapid and accusatory in tone. “You better talk ‘n explain quick if this was a mistake, ‘cause I’m not afraid to let you feel that again.”

Even in a line of work like his, it’s so rare that Hongbin comes across an obstruction in the form of a person that for a long few moments, he’s really not sure what he’s supposed to do about this. It throws him off further that this lady is ─ Kyungil’s roommate, he’s determined ─ so up in arms about the thing; if someone comes across you but claims it’s an accident and they were going for someone else, why would that be any of your concern? He doesn’t get it, much like he doesn’t get why the lady’s so adamantly guarding the door as if she was out to protect something ─ as if she was out to protect Kyungil.

Hongbin’s pretty damn baffled, even now that he’s caught his breath and stabilized his footing.

The questions she snaps are no different than what Hongbin’s associated with the interrogation shot y a prosecutor towards a defendant. He could very well plead the fifth ─ it’s not like she has to know anything about what his intentions are; threat or not, he’s still more than willing to fight against her if she pushes too far ─ but instead he, shameless as he tends to be, accepts the guilty charges with a frustrated click of his tongue and a roll of his shoulders. She wants to know? Well it’s not really his problem if she finds that she doesn’t, now is it?

“Doin’ something? Was planning on it, yeah.” If it were hard to hide the hint of a smirk in his tone, he doesn’t show it; his lips may not twitch to show it on his face, but it still wraps around his words with some level of natural ease. “What’s it to you? It’s not like he’s gonna die.”

He shrugs, terribly nonchalant in both stance and speech. “Wanna know what I want? At this hour?” Cheeky, throwing her words back at her; he almost takes a step forward before he takes a glance at her hand, distantly wondering what ‘that’ actually entailed. “What do you think I’d want him for? To talk? No ─ I wanna fuck him, that’s what. Good enough an explanation for you?” 

If one didn’t know any better, they’d likely assume his voice to be a marking of irritation; though it’s closer to the truth than not, it’s mostly a manifestation of impatience that bleeds through as such. “You wanna get outta the way, now? Unless you wanna take his place or somethin’.” The thought hadn’t crossed his mind until he said it; he’s not entirely sure what to think of her in that context, but sometimes he doesn’t think at all when he speaks. 

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ routine ☘

[advhongbin-blog]

kyungsoo.

Chess has always been something relaxing for Kyungsoo. It reminds him of warm afternoon and laughter wiith the two people he loves the most in the world even when he was locked away so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Kyungsoo still remembers every single rule and if the opportunity arises he’s playing. However it’s surprising that the dragon shifter found the closest thing to a stable partner that he’ll ever get. They aren’t exactly friends, not really, but then they aren’t strangers either considering how they even exchanged number ( that proved to be for nothing because they never contact each other outside of their little match time ) and yet they never exchanged names in the middle of this.

The mutant hasn’t really realized when a simple one time thing actually become a routine. It’s funny and would be a great movie how there are no promises of a next meeting, the one thing Kyungsoo doesn’t have a plan for, isn’t written anywhere in his schedule but it happens as often as it can be anyway, them meeting on the same place and time for a match of chess.

He’s frowning in concentration while he watches the taller male steals yet another of his pieces. He has a lot of experience, has been playing almost of his life but he’s still the one that is losing, the one who always loses no matter how hard he tries to corner the other and all the strategies on his head just don’t work in the end, it’s like some sort of sorcery. Maybe that’s the other’s power in the end. That’s why it takes him a few seconds to actually process what the stranger just said and he stares at the taller with judging eyes for a long pause before raising an also very judging eyebrow, forgetting the match for a moment. Not that Kyungsoo is the king of pop culture but even he, who has lived a good part of his life in a basement, has read Harry Potter’s book ( didn’t watch the movies though ) and he admits they’re good, not his favorites, but good nonetheless.

“So Harry Potter isn’t hipster enough for you?” Kyungsoo finally says something, followed by a soft snort before resuming the game, deciding to move his knight since his wall of pawns is destroyed anyway, another strategy already trying to take form on his mind. “They aren’t bad although I don’t understand the hype about it.”

Hongbin’s relationship with pop culture is... complicated. It’s not that he’s entirely unaware of things; it’s that he, in most cases, decides that whatever it is that seems to be the new ‘hype’ or ‘craze’ rarely tends to be worth his time. Sometime’s he’s roped into it anyway (he can’t exactly keep stores and radios from playing the new, popular songs or anything like that ─ they always seem to get stuck in his head for a while after, too, annoyingly enough), but generally speaking, he doesn’t go out of his way to participate in the experience, whatever it is. 

In that way, yes; he is quite the hipster.

There’s no real excuse for Hongbin being a stranger to the Harry Potter series; as someone who reads novels as often as he does, you’d think the opposite, really. One of the most popular book series across the globe? Shameful for an avid bookworm to be mostly unaware. 

Does Hongbin care about the shame that should be cast upon him for such a thing, though? Not really. If he were to defend himself over it, it’d certainly involve something about the series being for teens ─ a window of opportunity he happened to miss years ago. 

“Didn’t seem like my type ’a thing,” he offers, watching the other’s move in an almost leisurely manner; he’s already claimed so many wins under his belt, and he’s not about to let Kyungsoo take one today. Or the next time they meet up, for that matter. “Usually the thing that’s everyone’s... ‘thing’ isn’t all that good.” He has some examples, sure, but the one that comes to mind in the moment is a particular novel that, despite such raving reviews, turned out to be more confusing than ‘sexy’, or whatever it was they’d been calling it. That’s what he gets for trying the ‘in’ thing when it’s still popular and over-hyped.

This chess acquaintance of his seemed pretty reasonable, though ─ anyone who can at least keep up with him in chess has got to be, to some extent. Chess requires patience and the ability to strategize, to think of your own position in relation to others rather than going with what they’re baiting you to do. Sure, the guy doesn’t entirely have that part down, seeing how many wins Hongbin’s gotten just from a little bit of reverse psychology when it comes to making moves, but hey ─ he’s skilled enough that Hongbin will admit that he’s got some sense about him.   

“Are they worth it?” He moves a pawn of his forward, almost in a manner that seems thoughtless. If baiting the other to take it worked once, why not try it again? “S’not gonna be some kid’s thing?”

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ roll the dice ☘

[advhongbin-blog]

sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk couldn’t hear the words hissed under Hongbin’s breath, but it would have been a perfect opportunity to cease their running and look at the other and ask in confused wonder, “You still talk with Wonshik-hyung?” He was a man of little faith, you see, and honestly if he ever met any of his so-called high school friends again he was sure to wring their necks or at the very least empty their bank accounts.

They finally managed to stop running, but now that his body was pumped to the brim with adrenaline, his sass was quickly seeping back into him. He scrunched his face, his forehead filled with crinkles and eyes narrowed to slits so he could shoot Hongbin an annoyed, fed-up look. “No, hyung, I dressed up as a dying college student for Halloween—“ One hand on his hip, Sanghyuk gestured to his bleeding side. “—this is just red paint on my favorite clothes—yes I am dying and I would like take a moment so I can fucking stop bleeding to death, thanks.” He could barely register his own rapid breathing as he waved a noodle-like arm at him. “Why couldn’t your superpower be healing or something, huh? At least conjure up some bandages. Hmph.” He huffed, looking not unlike a whining child as he yanked the nearest piece of drapery to use as a makeshift bandage.

“I pray this cloth isn’t infected or I will die and make sure to haunt you for the rest of your life.” More grumbling as he fumbled with the fabric and tried to figure out how to stop bleeding to death. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in a haunted house with you and not some hot girl.”

As far as Hongbin’s concerned, if Sanghyuk can snark back at him like that then the brat is, indeed, alive. Perhaps that should be relieving or something, since the two of them were as close to friends as not-friends could probably get, but it only registers as simple fact in Hongbin’s mind. Sanghyuk is alive, so he is not dead. That’s good, for whatever it’s worth. 

Were he not feeling as though he were going to drop dead at any point in time (not that he had quite the number of injuries that Sanghyuk did ─ distantly, a part of him wonders what happened, there), his expression would most likely have been something close to its norm; that is to say, probably unamused and outright judging for the sass, as if he weren’t just as likely to dish it out as the younger was. As it happened, he still feels like a wreck on two legs; he looks tired, almost, even with his eyes wide and alert as they are, and the look he throws Sanghyuk is a dismissive roll of the eyes. 

Until the side comment jabbing at his power comes; attention crosses back to the con artist then, coupled completely with a look as though Hongbin had just eaten something terribly bitter. 

“Yah, I don’t see you with anything helpful!” Growling as he is is, oddly enough, making it a bit easier to breathe; his focus slips away from the panic and the repetition of survive in his head for just long enough to indulge in throwing words around with Sanghyuk as he always did. 

Strange, how things work like that sometimes.

“Next time I’ll leave you as bait,” he claims, the threat only half empty. “Maybe the next thing to chase you down can be the ‘hot girl’ you want.”

In contrast to his snide commentary, he finds himself watching what it is Sanghyuk’s doing ─ or trying to do, at least. He’s not sure how good the kid was at anything resembling first aid, but from Hongbin’s point of view, it didn’t seem like such a great job thus far.

“Sanghyuk-ah.” The call is unnecessary; before he bothers waiting for it to be answered, his hand is busy practically snatching the cloth from the other’s hand, working to better tie up the injury that Sanghyuk seemed to be struggling with from the more advantageous angle. Naturally, it’s probably a bit too tight for comfort.

[advsohye-blog]

contrast

[advhongbin-blog]

sohye.

Each hand holding two shopping bags made of cloth, respectively green and blue. Sometimes, one hand must take all of the bags due to another hand busy fixing the peach scarf which surrounds her neck and dark brown winter coat. Besides that, she is walking leisurely after finished doing something like female around her age and up usually do: shopping. Talking about shopping, Sohye is cannot categorize as ’shopaholic’, since she also slightly hates it; too much to choose (she somewhat hates choosing things for herself), shopping in the mall and online stores somewhat bring out her anxiety, too much spending things. But at the end, it became one of the female’s nature to doing this activity, especially if talking about her future owning her own little family, and she cannot deny it. And about shopaholic, Sohye does get the karma today. But unlike those stereotypical ’shopaholic’ who bought a lot of fashion items, books is what filled those bags. Quite a random choice, if she must admit and someone wondering about what books she bought.. Likewise, she believes that some people saw her approaching the books with a slight of disbelief and guilt. The bookstore she just went was a great place and she cannot help but lurk around. Luckily she brought quite a lot of money back then, so she decides bought many books that fit her liking. And again, she did not read all of them, but treating them like many lovey-dovey couples. That is why beneath the serene visage; lies this tiny happiness and pride. After walking from the bookstore and daydream about these ‘books’, she stops at the elevator. Right-hand releases the other two bags, let the left take over as its forefinger pressing the down direction. Finally, after waiting for some minutes, the elevator is open, and she gets inside. Then pressing the first floor since she currently on the fourth floor. And she waits as the door is closed and it begins moving down.

He shouldn’t be here during the day like this. He shouldn’t be scouting out jewelry stores to determine what has the most expensive items in order to come back later just to steal them right from under the security cameras. None of this is a good plan, but does Lee Hongbin listen to moral reasoning? Not at all; he simply does what he wants, and what he wants is to take some store’s pointlessly fancy necklace so that he can sell it to the connections he has.

Karma’s been waiting to pounce on Hongbin for quite some time, surely. It’s been a matter of time at this point.

His scouting mission could be considered a success as far as he was concerned; he knows what he wants and he knows he can get it later once the sun goes down and the mall closes. There’s no point in staying around until then ─ he hates the crowds and he hates waiting, and there’s little that sounds less appealing than waiting around in a crowded mall until sundown. As he steps inside the elevator, he keeps to himself, pressed to the corner and as away from the center as possible. The sooner he can get out of here, the better. Even the entrance of some random girl doesn’t bring anything more than a glance her way, disregarded shortly after she presses the button for her floor. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about despite the slight, nameless tugging he feels in his gut.

But alas, that karma. It’s quite amused with itself right about now.

Hongbin doesn’t keep track of which floor they’re on, but he knows, can sense that the jerky, stuttering stop that the elevator comes to is not normal. He blinks, looking up; the doors don’t open and the maintenance light turns on overhead. 

They don’t move. Hongbin blinks.

There’s something nagging in the back of his mind but for the moment Hongbin shakes it off, stepping forward to press at the keys of the elevator pad. Nothing happens even when he presses it continuously; irritation floods his low, growling voice when he takes a step back, speaking to no one but himself. “What the hell is wrong with this thing... ?”

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ getting by ☘

[advhongbin-blog]

wonshik.

He’s dead. 

( keep reading )

Whatever it was that Hongbin was expecting, it most certainly wasn’t this; he doesn’t tense up but he freezes in Wonshik’s hold as if something about the situation managed to catch him so off guard that he hasn’t properly processed it just yet. 

Honestly, that statement isn’t too wrong, all things considered. 

It’s easy enough to see the parts of this picture that don’t make sense, though it’s a different matter altogether to be able to comprehend it all. Wonshik looks awful, like a dead man barely walking ─ if he’s doing a zombie impression or something, then he’s doing such a damn good job that it actually manages to unsettle Hongbin of all people. There’s no telling if Wonshik is even aware of the fact that he looks like he’s been starved for months and hasn’t had a lick of sleep in even longer, not to mention the whole ‘barely holding himself up’ thing that Hongbin could see from a mile away when Wonshik stood up, but if he had to take a guess, he’d figure that the other male hadn’t so much as thought of taking a glance in the mirror for the past week or however long it’s been.

He registers the tears being shed but he doesn’t know how to respond to those, either; he’s still wide eyed and trying to figure all of this out, and it’s increasingly hard when he’s got Wonshik’s voice in his ear, rambling away. Who let him get this bad? Where the hell were Yixing and Jaehwan, even? How long has it been since someone’s actually spared Wonshik a glance? Anyone with eyes could tell that the other was a wreck, so who was it that completely overlooked that and let him get this bad?

His brain backpedals on the words he’s been hearing but not listening to, and his answer comes with a short, jump started spark of guilt in his chest.

I thought you were dead.

It was his fault, wasn’t it? That Wonshik’s like this. It’s because he hadn’t thought checking in wasn’t that big of a deal, even after dancing with death in that haunted house. It was his fault. Yixing and Jaehwan could be dead for all he knew, and the thought only truly settles in his veins now, with Wonshik breaking down like this as soon as he stepped in the door. 

(Something about that hurts more than he’d ever thought it might.)

The sudden break of words into coughing pulls Hongbin’s attention properly; he moves, finally, hands lifting to untangle Wonshik from around his shoulders. He takes half a step back, expression so much of a mixture of a handful of feelings that it’s all but unreadable as he takes hold of Wonshik’s shoulders in a steadying manner.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Wonshik was about to drop dead right then and there.

“Wonshik, you ─ ” Words have never come terribly easy to him but now he finds them even more difficult to grasp than usual. In place of whatever it was he was meaning to say (he’s not even sure what that might’ve been, really), he shakes his head, allowing his eyes to glance over Wonshik as if trying to confirm that he’s not hallucinating any of this. 

The moment he confirms that he’s indeed not dreaming and this is likely not a prank of some sort (as if Wonshik would be capable of pulling anything of this caliber over on him, of all people), his voice finds itself properly, thoughts translating into words that he doesn’t get the chance to deliberate in his head first. 

“The fuck have you been doing?” It’s astonished, that tone ─ caught up in near fervent disbelief. “When was the last time you ─ did anything? Where’s Yixing ─ Jae-hyung? Have they seen you like this? Has anyone? Are ─”

He pauses the tirade, eyes wide and blinking before they squint, head slightly tilted as he takes note of the unfocused quality to Wonshik’s expression. “Hey ─ yah, Wonshik! Get it together ─ c’mon, we’re going. Right now.”

A bit too forceful, a touch too rough in both demeanor and handling; Hongbin shifts himself to take Wonshik’s wrist, lifting the other’s arm to pull it over his shoulders for support as the thief’s other hand comes to curl around Wonshik’s waist. Is he certain that he’d really be capable of holding Wonshik up should the other completely give out on him? No, he knows better than that ─ that’s not gonna stop him from attempting to get his best friend down to the med bay, though. 

“Keep talkin’,” Hongbin grunts out, a one-hundred episode series of worries playing out in his mind. “Doesn’t matter what about.”

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ a mistake was made ☘

[advhongbin-blog]

oh hyuk.

Action and reaction, lashing out is more his native tongue than any words that had thus far been spoken between them. Talking in and of itself has never been his strong suit, direct instigation so much quicker a path to his own aggressive ends. As most other times progression is swift once he tilts that first domino, and it’s left up to violent instinct to show him the way, something inherently destructive that numerous others had failed time and again to train out of him. His third eye shifts beneath the closed lid, mirroring the movement of that dominant pair that bores into the man with unnatural excitement and his shoulders roll forward, weight balanced just a fraction lower toward his center. Hyuk’s awareness of the other potential’s movement falls on par with identifying a familiar face or relating with a friend. Natural, near passive, he moreso registers the shred of satisfaction from the other man’s angry expression than his failure to dodge fully. A breathless stumble and there’s enough recognition of what that body language means, but when the blow is returned in kind rather than moving Hyuk braces and accepts it. He sees no weapons, no unnatural speed or strange sheen or inhuman twisting of limb. When it connects it thuds solidly, rocks him on his heels with a grunt and a delayed flinch, and it’ll likely bruise deeply but that’s it. Dangerously curious of the power behind the other’s swing but that’s all it is, and when he strikes back again it’s with something darker in his expression, swifter and stronger, aiming for that same spot on the man’s body because he knows it hurts him. To say it’s anything more than hateful would be ridiculous, ‘human’ blaring louder in the gorgon’s mind, a split in purpose not necessarily prompting separate action. If he is human, then attempting to kick the shit out of him will be the highlight of Hyuk’s morning. If not, then a good fight could force a stubbornly kept ability to the forefront. Worst case he’s killed by some mutation wildly out of his league, but planning ahead is easily his second poorest skill, less a gambling man and more of a reckless animal when it comes to his goals. This occasion holds no difference; Hyuk swings for damage, retreat a non factor, more than ready to take as much as he gives, throwing another sharp punch as he pushes forward into the other man’s space. Blood starting to rush in his ears, he glares, ready to lash out again should he miss, all of his energy fueled by his own vices and only feeding further off of the violence he receives in turn. 

If Hongbin were more of the wishing sort, he’d probably be caught wishing for quite a few things in the few moments it takes for him to register the situation he’s found himself in. Having a pain suppressant as part of his ability would be wonderful right now ─ hell, being able to heal his wounds entirely would be appreciated more than anything, given that he’s just as angry at the injury itself as he is at the pain it’s been causing. 

It’s stupid, no doubts about it; the fact that he has to fight when he’s like this is stupid ─ but he’s not about to back down from it now. Not that he would’ve in the first place. 

The makings of a pained yelp shift sharply into that of a growl instead, jaw clenched tight and teeth grinding together as he stumbles, nearly completely falls back. There’s no such thing as ‘fighting fair’ in anyone’s book, he’s sure ─ hell, if the positions were switched and unnamed asshole was the one that was injured, there’s no denying that Hongbin would go for where it hurts, too. It’s nothing more than natural survival instinct ─ maybe it’s a bit more fitting to be categorized as more an animalistic sense than a logical one, actually; if any of this were logical, Hongbin wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

Too bad his sense of logic isn’t geared towards the whole ‘handling social situations of any kind’ department.

(Logic says he’s already lost this before it began, so fuck logic, really.)

He’s not holding anything back by his own will; the punch he throws is only as weak as it is because the shift it takes for it to connect properly sends another spark through his side, making him wince involuntarily. If nothing else, he’s glad that it at least hit at all ─ not that it matters, here. Not that it matters when the guy advances and gets too close, strikes too precisely (though it’s not even that; it’s just that the key to winning this is already too obvious to not take advantage of), overwhelms him enough to the point that he fails to realize when the back of his heel meets the bar of the weight he’d set down earlier. 

Honestly, his luck is one of the more unfortunate parts of this in the end; he blames that stupid festival and the stupid explosion that happened, there. Or, well, he will blame it, when he’s not in the middle of crying out when the impact of the fall runs like an earthquake through his core. 

And, of course, when he’s not in the middle of dealing with unnamed asshole.

[advwonshik-blog]

Caged Nightmares

[advhongbin-blog]

wonshik.

He’s still shaking, but he doesn’t try to fight back against any of Bin’s movements. His own claws are replaced by Bin’s hands- soft hands- and he relaxes ever so slightly. It’s such a simple action, but it’s enough to make him feel just a little better. He still feels guilty for doing this- for running in screaming. His head is still a jumbled mess but there’s something there to keep him grounded. Bin’s hand is enough to remind him that he’s not there, even if it still feels that way sometimes. He’s safe here in Daybreak, safer than he was. He has things here- things he can hold onto and hopefully never lose. He can keep them… He just has to be aware of it. He needs to keep the things he cares about safe. He can do that…

“’M… Not.” Is about all his mind lets him formulate at first. He’s just repeating- trying to let the words sink in. It’s not the most comforting thing in the world, but he sticks to Bin’s every word- lets them sink in and repeats them in his head until he feels like he understands every part of them. Bin would protect him- get him out if he went back to some hell like Mutagen. That’s right. Bin cares about him too. They’ll be ok. He has people here that will make sure things are ok, and he can do the same for them. That’s the big difference. That’s what he has here.

He’s slow to grasp the water bottle when it presses against his face. It’s cool, and it almost makes him jump. His mind is still too far into his nightmare to process what it could possibly be until he’s staring directly at it. He just blinks a few times- mind trying to wrap around how he’s supposed to drink it. He manages to twist the top within a moment, though. He downs probably half of the bottle. He wasn’t even aware he was thirsty or just how badly his throat hurt… He places the bottle on the ground- top back in place. He’s managed to stop shaking. His breathing is still a bit uneven, but it’s ok. He’s ok.

Clawed hands move far more gently than might be expected of someone like him. He’s always so brash and violent- quick to move and seems like he could kill with one hand. He looks like he’d hurt someone on accident, and normally he probably would. But he’s soft with Bin- at least he tries to be. He finds the other’s hand and grips it weakly. He doesn’t really want to go back to sleep. He’s sure if he does the nightmares will come back full force… But maybe it will be different if he stays here. 

“Sorry…. Bin. M’ sorry. Thank you.” His voice is still off, but he ignores the way it sounds. He doesn’t like to think about it. “Can I stay here?” He normally wouldn’t even ask. He often crawls into his roommate’s bed and settles beside him as though there’s nothing odd about it. Bin never seems to mind, so he’s never bothered to ask. This time is different, though. For some reason, he can’t bring himself to just do it. There’s an odd fear looming over him- an assumption that doing anything could lead to him somehow going back to his nightmare. So he tightens his hold on Bin’s hand just a little more- shoulders stiffening and hiding his face in the bed. He lets out a louder breath- feeling like he might cry again.

“Please…?”

Things like this shouldn’t be as expected as they’ve come to be ─ rather, ‘unsurprising’ is the more accurate term. Hongbin rarely ever expects Wonshik to fall into states like this, but it’s not surprising, not really; it’s taken two years for him to get used to Wonshik, both the ups and downs of him, but Hongbin’s nothing if he’s not adaptable. In some odd way, Wonshik’s just another part of the twists and turns that life always tries to throw him off with ─ that’d make Wonshik a constant part of it all, wouldn’t it?

Huh. When did that sort of thing start happening? 

(Adjusting so easily to people (or a particular someone, in this case) has always been one of those things that he’d never really thought himself capable of, despite the lack of thought he put into the topic; people are unexpected, people always have thought processes and morals that Hongbin may or may not get sometimes ─ even though he’s long opted not to bother with the idea of getting used to someone, here he is, close enough to Wonshik to know what to expect from the things he does and, usually, how he’s supposed to handle it.)

(If he weren’t still drowsy from the medicine he’d taken, it’d probably be unsettling.)

He shifts a bit, blinking in an almost slow manner. This is another one of those things that he’s come to accept as natural; he doesn’t pause to think about it nearly as much as he used to ─ and there’s hardly a chance that he’d deny Wonshik like this (not that he’d say no to something he knew would calm Wonshik’s nerves, anyway). Even if he doesn’t say it directly and even if he’s a bit wary over how clingy Wonshik can get in his sleep, there’s already some sort of expectation lying in the sigh he gives. 

Before he says anything, he shifts his position, inching closer to one side of the bed than the other. He already has a long-standing habit of being more right-side aligned of the bed than, say, settling for the middle (even when the bed’s more than enough to accommodate him ─ and Wonshik, at that ─ he’s still so used to sleeping closer to the edge than not; it’s almost unconsciously ingrained in him, now); he doesn’t have to move much before he’s throwing an expectant look and a slightly raised brow towards Wonshik in the dark.

(He’s sure to pull one of the spare pillows down in an attempt to separate himself from the ‘probably will be ignored at some point in the night anyway’ space behind him.)

“What’re you waiting for? Get up here and get to sleep.”

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ one new notification.

[advhongbin-blog]

jaehwan.

( ✉ → Hongbin. ) … damnit, wonshik. i’m glad you got him seen about. ._.

( ✉ → Hongbin. ) i’m trying, yeah. i should be okay.

( … )

( ✉ → Hongbin. ) oh. you too? orz

( ✉ → Hongbin. ) i don’t even remember how that went, honestly. pretty sure i ran off too. so don’t worry about it too much.

( ... )

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] we have leftovers

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] if u want some

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] theyre in your fridge

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] just heat them up

[yixingadv-blog]

– gotta go fast。

[advhongbin-blog]

yixing.

In spite of pulling a face at what Hongbin said, Yixing doesn’t bother to retort with any witty remark. He keeps focused on the warm-up, tuning out anything else that might serve as a distraction – keep your eyes on the prize, that was how the saying went. Even so, he only managed to focus on his routine for so long, because Hongbin was making sure to urge him to rush. Needless to say, the younger knew exactly what to say to push his buttons.

Yixing is easily lured out of his ‘warming-up-is-important’ mentality, brows furrowing as a frown took over his features, “Is that the impression I’ve left you with?” he asks as he gives a shake of the head, “Hongbin, I’m hurt. I thought you knew me better than that.” His expression shifts to a faux sad one, but then quickly reverts back to being neutral. The other’s taken to doing a bit of stretching, so he joins in that as a final means of preparation.

A couple of moments later, he shifts from stretching to bouncing into place, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. The warm-up may have been minimal, but he felt ready to go. “Alright, I think I’m good,” the bouncing ceases as he stretches out one last time, thereafter stepping over to the starting line. “So… three laps around the running field should be enough. First one to finish is the winner, but you know that already,” a grin takes over his lips as he says that, gesticulating with his hand towards the field and then at himself.

Yixing adjusts his position, shifting into one which was more comfortable for him to break into a sprint from. His eyes are set ahead, following the path of the lane which he would take – he tries to visualize everything in his mind, not only the track but himself winning. There was no way that the outcome could turn out any different from what he envisions it to be. “Ready to go?” 

A brow raises. He’s not sure what it is he’s supposed to know about Yixing in particular, but whatever it is, he doesn’t know it. He thinks. 

Shrugs are the main method of communication as far as Hongbin goes, so there’s no surprise in that he shrugs off the thought now, opting instead to throw a look to the elder as if he were asking the question with his slightly confused tint of an expression. The extra display of sadness was something that threw him all the more for a loop ─ thankfully, it’s not long before he doesn’t have to think about it any more.

Yixing’s good to go, and that’s all Hongbin’s been waiting for. 

A grin mirrors across his own lips at the terms ─ easy, as far as he sees it. His confidence isn’t meaningless; he knows he’s not slow, and the pride he puts into his own natural abilities is usually on par with the pride put into his mutation. Hongbin slips his phone from his pocket, swiping along it a few times before setting up a timer. It’d get in his way if he held onto it the entire time though, so it’s set aside as he picks up from the app’s ten second countdown.

“On go, yeah? ... Four... three... two... one ─ go!” 

And he does. 

A few minutes later, he’s doubled over, panting with his palms to his knees. Sweat beads along his skin, but that’s hardly the source of the taste of salt on his tongue: 

It’s the bitter fact that he lost.  

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ one new notification.

[advhongbin-blog]

jaehwan.

( ✉ → Hongbin. ) ah. i didn’t know. orz

( ✉ → Hongbin. ) tell him i hope he feels better soon. i’ll try to make it by once he’s out and all.

( … )

( ✉ → Hongbin. ) thank you, bin. i’m glad you’re alive, too.

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] the idiot wasnt eating

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] prbbly will be out soon

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] are u eating?

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] dont end up like him

( fifteen minutes after last message )

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] sorry

[ ✉ * jaehwan hyung ] for running off w/o u all

[advhongbin-blog]

☘ hide (there’s no exits) ☘

[advhongbin-blog]

jonghyun.

( tw– torture, violence, death, blood, gore, dissociation, mental instability )

( keep reading )

What he knows of Jonghyun are as follows: loud, almost annoyingly extroverted; a drinker that just happened to be a good friend of Taekwoon, usually caught with a dumb smile or something close enough on his face. Hongbin’s not sure if he really understands how or why someone like Taekwoon got roped into that one ─ but if he took the time to actually think about it, maybe it’d make sense, at least in the same kind of sense that he and Wonshik or Jaehwan and Hoseok did. Touchy, people-centered people seemed to gravitate towards the opposite ─ that’s what he’d conclude, eventually, if he thought about it.

But he’s not thinking about it right now; he’s a bit preoccupied with the fact that the look on Jonghyun’s face currently spells anything but friendly (or stupid, as it were equally as common), and the singsonging mess of a voice was properly suiting to a place like this ─ which is to say, it’s creepy and disturbing and Hongbin’s instincts to stay away are starting to produce blaring warning sounds. 

He’s not too sure whether to keep hiding or not, seeing as his position already seemed to be compromised, but the temptation to sink away further just to maintain their current distance is prominent enough to at least have him shift. His gaze might not be particularly suspicious (they’re narrowed into a slight squint, but they’re not condemning Jonghyun just yet) but it’s still wary; there’s too many strange pieces to this puzzle to properly determine the picture just yet, but with the way it was coming out so far, Hongbin’s pretty sure that it’s destined to not paint a good picture. 

He could go for one of those right now.

His form is a bit tense when he slips out of the shadows, pulling himself away from the corner and enhancing the chance of having a clear escape route should he need to take it. Eyes stay on Jonghyun’s form ─ nothing about it is relieving in any right, he notes with a taste of bitterness. Honestly, he should feel fed up by this pattern by now, this constant repetition of trickery that promises the light of something potentially good only to snatch it away, but he’s giving the sliver of doubt to a face at least familiar ─ he doesn’t have many of those left before he stops trying on that simple basis entirely.

“You okay, hyung?” Spoken in an alert way, careful as though he was testing the waters for a particular action or response. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for in Jonghyun, but there’s at least something ─ Hongbin supposes he’ll find out what it is soon enough. “Ya look like a wreck.”