"her?" beomseok, another artist at the studio, waddles over with his box of cling wrap still in hand. the tattooing practice sheets he'd been working on are visibly strewn across the table behind him, abandoned in the wake of sieun's arrival. "she just cleared out her things the other day and took off. didn't tell me or seokdae where she was going."
feeling a sense of foreboding, he sends her a quick message.
[yse0515]: were u going to tell me u dont work at byeoksan anymore
[yii_art]: oh shit lmao i forgot
[yii_art]: i didnt quit im guesting rn
[yii_art]: its ok tho i told suho to cover my regulars
suho? that's a name sieun hasn't heard before. it fills him with a bit of dread, actually. the idea of stepping outside of his comfort zone, having a new person get familiar with his body in the way it took him a year to establish with yeongyi makes his throat feel like it's filled with rocks. however, he's already here, and logically he knows there's nothing that can be done. and hell if sieun won't be getting something new right here and now after coming all this way.
pairing: yeon sieun x ahn suho (weak hero)
genre: light angst, hurt-comfort
wc: ~1.3k
summary: for once, suho gets to enjoy being cared for. more gay realizations ensue.
a/n: sorry this one took so long to get out !! i was struggling for a bit with how to progress narratively, hopefully it's still enjoyable though hehe. i do have more prompts lined up for these guys but if i took blurb requests, would that be something ppl are interested in ??
TW FOR DOMESTIC ABUSE.
the sounds of screaming and glass bottles shattering are among the first things that suho remembers hearing. huddled away in a makeshift hiding spot within the closet, he pulls his knees as close to his chest as he possibly can.
his parents arguing is nothing new, constant background noise just like the cicadas that buzz in the summertime. that doesn't mean it ever gets easier to be around.
the door to the room slams open, hinges rattling. there's a moment of silence, then, a strong yank forces suho out from between the clothes. everything is a blur, and though he fights back with all the power his childhood form can muster it's not enough.
the sharp sting of glass shards pierces his feet with every kick. suho feels the familiarly warm and slight stickiness of blood; the realization of it not being his filling him with dread.
in the living room, the yelling gets louder. distorted faces approach him, several sets of hands grabbing at every part of his body and garbled voices overwhelming his ears. a chill shoots through his body, hands continuing to slide up over his eyes, his ears, his mouth—
suho awakes with a start. the feeling of being back in his own body takes some time to get used to, as if he never really stopped being that defenseless scrawny kid from long ago. feeling sieun shift next to him in bed, he cranes his neck to look over and is met with a familiar shine. despite the darkness, he can make out the way the moonlight is reflected in his eyes.
"are you okay?" his best friend tentatively grabs at his longsleeve, and the brush of sieun's warm hand against his icy one is enough to have suho unintentionally jerking away. sieun doesn't miss how he appears to shrink, making himself as small as he can regardless of his tall frame. "did you see them again?"
unable to respond, he just nods. suho doesn't expect the soft touch that comes next against his cheek, and though he flinches again he forces himself to hold still. he knows sieun better than anyone, and he knows his friend would never do anything to hurt him. so suho allows for it to happen, even if every sense in his body is screaming at him to run.
"it was worse this time. i don't know why it was worse but it felt like i was back. sieun, i felt the glass." the fear tumbles out of his mouth in droves, unstoppable.
sieun exhales, pulling back. he's never been one to console others, concern getting hidden behind jaded words and blank stares. this is different. he needs to do something. looking at the way suho trembles before him, eyes screwed shut, this is uncharted territory for the both of them.
“breathe.” he says quietly as he sits up, allowing his friend ample space to find himself with. “it’s okay. you’re at my place right now. they can’t touch you here.”
it takes half an hour for suho to calm down just enough to stop flinching at sieun’s every move. during this time sieun doesn’t dare to breach the safety of his friend’s protective bubble, yet somewhere along the way it’s suho who finds himself slowly interlacing their fingers.
the movement is shy at first, as if asking for permission. suho knows he can’t easily play this off with one of his usual snarky quips, but the feeling of being exposed in this way isn’t one that sits well with him. he’s supposed to be the one safeguarding his partner, not the other way around. he’s supposed to be the infallible rock that sieun can look to for support.
if a rock cracks, what use is it to a steady foundation?
his thoughts are interrupted by a ridiculously firm squeeze; looking down suho sees sieun's knuckles turning white from the pressure. it's grounding, sobering even, to see that his quiet bid for help is being returned so openly. and though no words are exchanged, the feeling of relief finally settles into the fibers of suho's very being.
the silence between them is far from awkward. as sieun stands up to get water from the fridge, suho follows suit, keeping their hands locked together and shuffling behind him like a lost child. he doesn't let go as sieun grabs the pitcher and pours a glass. he doesn't let go when sieun lifts it to his lips to take a sip. he doesn't even let go as his friend rinses the cup out in the sink and places it in the rack to dry.
it's as if his friend's presence ends up acting as a medicinal balm, carefully soothing the wounds it had no hand in creating. suho's thankful sieun hasn't said anything about metaphorically losing his left arm, or maybe he never really cared that much about it in the first place. either way, he's not bringing it up himself anytime soon.
"hydrating yourself means your eyes won't be killing you in ethics tomorrow morning."
the statement has that factually blunt charm that suho's come to recognize as an indelible part of sieun's personality. hiding somewhere underneath that nonchalant facade, however, is the subtlest hint of genuine worry. call him deluded, but suho is thoroughly convinced he's the only one capable of seeing it.
"ah. okay."
for once, it's nice to be the one being coddled. it isn't often that suho gets the chance to let his brain fully turn off and melt into a pliable mush, but he understands now more than ever the safe, healing space having a "guardian angel" can provide. everything be damned, suho definitely wouldn't mind experiencing another night terror if it means getting the closest thing to princess treatment yeon sieun can give.
the two eventually find their way back to the comfort of the bed, suho this time fiddling with the lower hem of his friend's shirt. to sieun, this is a good sign; suho's temporary regression seems to have stalled enough for him to detach just a bit.
“try to get some rest. i have some things i need to check first.” even sieun can tell his excuse is feeble, but his words appear fall on deaf ears. suho doesn’t reply.
the latter hears the sheets ruffle and, feigning sleep so as not to further worry his friend, rolls around a bit in a faux attempt to get comfortable. he’s unpleasantly surprised to feel something warm and soft, and it’s then suho realizes he’s ventured into no man’s land: on sieun’s lap.
the bastard had never actually gotten out of bed, and so suho’s own plot had foiled him.
just as he’s about to bolt for the hills and live the rest of his days as a hermit, he feels it. calloused hands gently lift his head and place it in a more secure position. sieun’s thighs feel like the best cloud pillow heaven could ever offer. suho wants to die.
despite his eyes being closed, suho swears he can feel sieun's fingers also moving to toy with the edges of his overgrown bangs. he stiffens, soaking in the sensation for all its worth. any hasty movement, after all, and he might just scare him off.
the edge keeps him up as he tries to enjoy the affection while it lasts, but at a certain point, a voice enters his ears.
“i wish you’d rely on me like this a little more.” suho only catches bits and pieces of the words being spoken, the low notes of sieun’s voice lulling him back down into the deep. they placate him like a siren’s song, making him feel weightless and chasing off all the demons he’d been running from.
needless to say, suho sleeps soundly that night.
as always, thank you for reading !! likes are nice, but comments and fellow brainrotting are always welcome :>
pairing: yeon sieun x ahn suho (weak hero)
genre: fluff, hurt-comfort, sickfic
wc: ~1.4k
summary: a common cold leaves sieun feeling under the weather. thankfully, suho the guardian angel is here to save the day.
a/n: weak hero has been kicking my ass in the hyperfixation dept.. i NEEDED to get my brainworms out abt these two. i hope you all enjoy reading as much as i did writing this and i can't wait to make more shortform fics :>
extra ps: i hc ahnyeonz to be the type of non-traditional couple that doesn't deal so heavily with labels, rather, they just care abt each other a lot and know they #love each other and are finding ways to handle their feelings lol. my favorite little guys that are figuring themselves out <3
everything is too much.
this is what yeon sieun decides as he feels ahn suho's hand gently swiping through his bangs, pressing his palm to his sweat-slicked forehead. the latter clicks his tongue disapprovingly, leaning back and looking down at him with just the slightest hint of concern in his eyes. without a word, he gets up and leaves the room, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity sieun feels like he can breathe again.
suho has always been like this. always full of warmth, always a constant presence, and always looking out for him. if anything, it's gotten more intense after his friend started stopping by nearly every day. though he says he's just coming back from a delivery run, sieun knows better. it's too much.
it isn't like sieun dislikes the feeling, no, the real problem is the thumping in his chest that occurs everytime suho does anything remotely related to this warmth. whatever it is, it's worse than the cold sweats and the nightmares that came along with his friend's hospitalization.
he may be able to sleep soundly now, but the uncertainty of what's happening to his body now is yet another problem added to the table. sieun pulls the covers up to his chin, as if casting a protective shield over himself.
the door hinges squeak open again, and suho appears with a bowl of something steaming. sieun's eyes dart to the pink bunny-shaped oven mitt covering his hand, the very same one that had just graced his skin, before skirting away. something as simple as this causes a fuzzy sensation to bloom, right in the same spot as the thumps. suho takes his place again at his bedside, placing the bowl into his own lap and tossing the mitt off somewhere.
"sit up." he says firmly, adjusting the hastily brewed porridge so that he can help his friend prop up against the headboard. a few moments pass in silence before suho speaks again.
"do you want me to feed you or something for you to eat? why haven't you taken it yet?" sieun stares at him, wordless. suho swears he can feel his face go red from how the man's eyes seem to twinkle at the suggestion. "you can't be serious."
"no, it's okay. i'll do it." his voice comes out hoarse as he reaches for the bowl, but no sooner is it in his hands than it returns to the chef. suho picks up the spoon and blows on it to cool it a bit, before offering it up to sieun. an uneven chopped chunk of ginger is visible on the surface, a small testament to the urgency with which it was cut. he hesitates again, this time briefly, before leaning in to take a taste.
the ginger is pungent to say the least, but the blend of microwave package rice and canned chicken somehow fuses well enough to taste like a true homemade meal. something about it reminds him strongly of the person who made it, though he can't quite put his finger on what that something is.
he’s never felt so weak and vulnerable just because of a damn cold, and yet, his danger instincts are nowhere to be found. it’s almost as if they’ve gone completely dormant in the face of the man sitting just a few inches away. after a few more bites suho finally relents, handing over the food and allowing sieun to actually handle it himself. he sighs, lilting his head.
"you know, we really must've been a married couple in our past life. first that random encounter, and now i'm spoonfeeding you. ha. maybe next time we'll-- are you okay??" at the word 'married' sieun immediately chokes, dropping the utensil and coughing up clumps of rice. it clatters to the floor, leaving a trail of porridge in its wake.
"sorry. i didn't mean to--" he leans over the bedside, arm extending outwards to grab at the metal, but he's immediately blocked off. one of suho's hands makes its way to his back, landing soft hits before rubbing in small circles. the other picks up the spoon, placing it atop a napkin on the nightstand. "thank you. the food was good."
the brightness emanating from suho's sheepish grin is enough to alleviate any guilt he feels in that moment, and a wave of relief washes over him like cold water. his friend looks at him inquisitively, placing an elbow on his knee and resting his head in his palm.
“will you be good for the rest of the night? do you need anything else before i go?" as suho stands, he stretches. With his arms extending above his shoulders, the waistband of his boxers exposes itself in the process. sieun avoids looking.
when he begins to move away from the bed, sieun makes a grab for his hand and looks directly up into his eyes for the first time that evening. the dim lighting reflects off of them, and he comes face to face with his own defenseless expression.
“can you stay a little longer?”
the surprise is evident on suho’s face, but he doesn’t question the request. instead, he makes his way over to the closet and reaches for the extra bedding he knows is kept inside. when he comes up empty, his head whips back to look at the bed.
“where the hell is the futon.” and that’s when the realization hits. the laundry that sieun had left for himself to do had gone completely out the window as a result of his currently bedridden state. “you know what, just move over. if i get sick, i get sick. this bed is more than big enough so you can spare the space, right?”
sieun doesn’t miss the slight pinkish tone that dusts suho’s cheeks, nor the rambling, but for his own good he decides to ignore it. he just scoots over wordlessly, pressing himself as far into the wall as he possibly can.
hours seem to pass, and in a cruel twist of fate sieun's sleeplessness seems to have returned. his friend has long since gone silent, so what better time than the present to slip away?
when he finally turns away from the wall, however, his breath catches in his throat. suho is facing right towards him. though he doesn't yell, the way he suddenly jolts back has sieun worrying he'll accidentally disturb the man's deep slumber.
he's clearly knocked out by now—surely due to the extra shifts he’d been pulling—and he can’t help but notice how the last rays of sunlight seem to frame suho’s face. regardless of what sieun knows about him, it makes him appear all the more angelic, and a sting of pain cuts through his chest. this isn’t something he deserves. not after everything.
despite that, he reaches out to cup the face in front of him, but stops at the last second. suho's chest continues to rise and fall, peacefully unaware of the internal conflicts brewing next to him.
like a cautious animal, sieun moves his head forward ever so slightly, causing their foreheads to touch. he feels the small puffs of air his friend exhales gently brush against his face, and suddenly, this small act of defiance against himself doesn’t feel so bad.
the feeling itself is foreign. safety isn't something he's ever had the luxury of thinking about, let alone feeling in the wake of everything. sieun isn't even sure what home is like, but suho is probably the closest to it he's ever come.
sieun feels like crying, but he forces down the sentiment. this must've been what he had sensed from the porridge. it embodied the pure care his friend was capable of, and in turn represented the fondness suho held for him from very beginning.
there's still a lot sieun wants to say, to ask suho. the hows of navigating this new dynamic they'd set up for themselves, of what they'll do about it going forward. most importantly, sieun wants to ask why suho would choose him of all people, though he's not quite sure he's ready for the answer to that yet. for now, he's more than content to slot himself at his best friend's side, basking in his warmth, and believing in his decision.
that isn't too much.
ITS FINALLY HEREEEE i can't believe i'm able to share this w. yall ... pls pls pls let me know what you think !! any kind of commentary is so so appreciated.
the sounds of screaming and glass bottles shattering are among the first things that suho remembers hearing. huddled away in a makeshift hiding spot within the closet, he pulls his knees as close to his chest as he possibly can.
his parents arguing is nothing new, constant background noise just like the cicadas that buzz in the summertime. that doesn't mean it ever gets easier.
suho awakes with a start. the feeling of being back in his own body takes some time to get used to, as if he never really stopped being that scrawny kid from long ago. feeling sieun shift next to him in bed, he cranes his neck to look over and is met with a familiar shine. despite in the darkness, he can make out the way the moonlight is reflected in his eyes.
"are you okay?" his best friend tentatively grabs at his longsleeve, and the brush of sieun's warm hand against his icy one is enough to have suho unintentionally jerking away. sieun doesn't miss how he appears to shrink, making himself as small as he can regardless of his tall frame.
-
i’m still writing this one and its turning out more angsty than i expected … erm…. sorry yall 😭
I DIDNT EVEN MEAN TO MAKE MORE HURT COMFORT BUT THEM TGT IS JUST ALWAYS GONNA BE HURT COMFORT IG !
this is what yeon sieun decides as he feels ahn suho's hand gently swiping through his bangs, pressing his palm to his sweat-slicked forehead. the latter clicks his tongue disapprovingly, leaning back and looking down at him with just the slightest hint of concern in his eyes. without a word, he gets up and leaves the room, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity sieun feels like he can breathe again.
suho has always been like this. always full of warmth, always a constant presence, and always looking out for him. if anything, it's gotten more intense after moving in together for their freshman year of college. it's too much.
it isn't like sieun dislikes the feeling, no, the real problem is the thumping in his chest that occurs everytime suho does anything remotely close to it. whatever it is, it's worse than the cold sweats and the nightmares that came along with his friend's hospitalization. he may be able to sleep soundly now, but the uncertainty of what's happening to his body now is yet another problem added to the table. he pulls the covers up to his chin, as if casting a protective shield over himself.
--
starting this blog off strong with a shortfic of our favorite 🍣 from weak hero because the fixation is hitting HEAVY
