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writetomyheart2020-06-15 08:59 am
defiancebyfire.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2020-06-15 08:59 am
[team three] always
last fic from me before the shuffle. more Tay and New (GMMTV), since they just finished their Global VLive fanmeet last Saturday.
After seven years, it feels enough like hope, even though this was something they had already done countless times—Tay in his bed, thoroughly fucked and sound asleep, an arm loosely embracing his middle. New slowly exhales, wondering how much more tangled with each other their lives were going to get from now on, why he couldn’t let this—them—go, even after so many arguments.
There are no words to explain why he finds himself tightly holding Tay’s hands, arms, shoulders, waist, eyes, heart again and again and again, despite always promising to end things and that ‘this would be the last’.
Maybe they weren’t meant to be apart. Not for very long, at least. Definitely not in permanence.
New doesn’t want to think about how many promises he’s broken, or how many evenings he’d opened the door of either of their apartments to Tay in the middle of a screaming match with one of their other friends over the phone, because people had wanted him for Tay until they didn’t anymore, because their relationship was complicated and without definition and it was just that one time, Tay had told a fuming Gun—ever the overprotective brother—once, but here they were countless days and weeks and months later, and New still gets cold feet at the thought of leaving behind mornings and the safety of Tay’s arms wrapped around his heart.
He swears he’ll make it work this time, just like what he’s convinced himself of every other time.
Seven years later, and he’s still without a plan.
Tay stirs, and New stops mid-inhale, trying to chase away the familiar beginnings of fear pooling in his gut and gripping his chest. They have to work separately today, and New hadn’t been particularly gentle. Or easily satisfied. The mix of weeks of exhaustion, nerves, and relief from the fanmeet being over had gotten the best of him, and what had been Tay dropping by to get the rest of his stuff from his apartment late last night had turned into. Well, this.
“Babe,” New says, softly. His fingers lightly brush through Tay’s hair, then his temple and cheek. Tay doesn’t wake, and New’s hand pauses, his eyes taking in all the now-purple marks he had left on Tay’s collarbones and shoulders, on purpose, always on purpose if one knew where to look. Their respective make-up artists for today’s filming will have a fit, but New couldn’t care less. He’s lucky, getting away with a lighter sentence, the scratches on his back and arms the only proof of Tay’s pleasure in his body.
“Stay here,” New whispers, more to himself and the warmth of the sheets. He wants to lock the two of them inside his room, forever if possible.
But Tay is the sun, and the world cannot function in the absence of its light.
It’s almost time for them to get up. New wants to stay frozen in the silence of here and now. Everyone knows that he is normally smarter and more pragmatic than this, but Tay—
New thinks of how he had claimed Tay several times, the two of them lost in desire and release all night, terribly in love and drunk on each other.
His skin buzzes with content, but also stirs with want.
Always, always with want.
“Mmm,” Tay mumbles, cuddling even closer, head fitting snugly on the crook between New’s neck and shoulder. His breaths go even, his stubble lightly tickling New.
The greed sits heavy in New’s gut; it makes him want to destroy all his feelings.
He always knows how to get what he wants, and Tay can never, ever refuse him.
New swallows the lump in his throat; he knows where this is headed, knows he is unable to put a stop to the ugly, irrational side of his heart.
They will fight, because they are Tay and New, and neither of them back down when they so strongly believe in their own convictions.
Tay will attempt to leave, like always, because he truly wishes the best for them both, and “we both deserve better than all the hiding and sulking” that they’ve been so good at, all the ‘mine, mine, mine’ and ‘I love yous’ hurriedly left in each others’ mouths and breathed into each others’ skins away from prying eyes.
This is going to blow up in their faces again, because he can’t keep his mouth shut for long and Tay fails at being subtle, but New can’t give him up and won’t allow him to walk away.
They will argue and give each other the cold shoulder in front of everyone else, because they are stubborn like children.
Tay will video-call and say he is fine, even if his watery smiles haven’t quite reached his eyes for a long while now.
And New.
New will find a way to make him come back. Because this nothing belongs to him, to the two of them, and the flames of guilt and regret might as well just consume them both until nothing is left behind for everyone else to see and judge.
The sooner Tay wakes up, the sooner he will realize what happened last night, and then he’ll look at New with that addicting mix of love and confusion and selflessness and hurt and surrender that New can’t get enough of.
He closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to Tay’s forehead.
“You belong with me, love.”
Before. Now. Always.
all yours,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
faded_lace!
After seven years, it feels enough like hope, even though this was something they had already done countless times—Tay in his bed, thoroughly fucked and sound asleep, an arm loosely embracing his middle. New slowly exhales, wondering how much more tangled with each other their lives were going to get from now on, why he couldn’t let this—them—go, even after so many arguments.
There are no words to explain why he finds himself tightly holding Tay’s hands, arms, shoulders, waist, eyes, heart again and again and again, despite always promising to end things and that ‘this would be the last’.
Maybe they weren’t meant to be apart. Not for very long, at least. Definitely not in permanence.
New doesn’t want to think about how many promises he’s broken, or how many evenings he’d opened the door of either of their apartments to Tay in the middle of a screaming match with one of their other friends over the phone, because people had wanted him for Tay until they didn’t anymore, because their relationship was complicated and without definition and it was just that one time, Tay had told a fuming Gun—ever the overprotective brother—once, but here they were countless days and weeks and months later, and New still gets cold feet at the thought of leaving behind mornings and the safety of Tay’s arms wrapped around his heart.
He swears he’ll make it work this time, just like what he’s convinced himself of every other time.
Seven years later, and he’s still without a plan.
Tay stirs, and New stops mid-inhale, trying to chase away the familiar beginnings of fear pooling in his gut and gripping his chest. They have to work separately today, and New hadn’t been particularly gentle. Or easily satisfied. The mix of weeks of exhaustion, nerves, and relief from the fanmeet being over had gotten the best of him, and what had been Tay dropping by to get the rest of his stuff from his apartment late last night had turned into. Well, this.
“Babe,” New says, softly. His fingers lightly brush through Tay’s hair, then his temple and cheek. Tay doesn’t wake, and New’s hand pauses, his eyes taking in all the now-purple marks he had left on Tay’s collarbones and shoulders, on purpose, always on purpose if one knew where to look. Their respective make-up artists for today’s filming will have a fit, but New couldn’t care less. He’s lucky, getting away with a lighter sentence, the scratches on his back and arms the only proof of Tay’s pleasure in his body.
“Stay here,” New whispers, more to himself and the warmth of the sheets. He wants to lock the two of them inside his room, forever if possible.
But Tay is the sun, and the world cannot function in the absence of its light.
It’s almost time for them to get up. New wants to stay frozen in the silence of here and now. Everyone knows that he is normally smarter and more pragmatic than this, but Tay—
New thinks of how he had claimed Tay several times, the two of them lost in desire and release all night, terribly in love and drunk on each other.
His skin buzzes with content, but also stirs with want.
Always, always with want.
“Mmm,” Tay mumbles, cuddling even closer, head fitting snugly on the crook between New’s neck and shoulder. His breaths go even, his stubble lightly tickling New.
The greed sits heavy in New’s gut; it makes him want to destroy all his feelings.
He always knows how to get what he wants, and Tay can never, ever refuse him.
New swallows the lump in his throat; he knows where this is headed, knows he is unable to put a stop to the ugly, irrational side of his heart.
They will fight, because they are Tay and New, and neither of them back down when they so strongly believe in their own convictions.
Tay will attempt to leave, like always, because he truly wishes the best for them both, and “we both deserve better than all the hiding and sulking” that they’ve been so good at, all the ‘mine, mine, mine’ and ‘I love yous’ hurriedly left in each others’ mouths and breathed into each others’ skins away from prying eyes.
This is going to blow up in their faces again, because he can’t keep his mouth shut for long and Tay fails at being subtle, but New can’t give him up and won’t allow him to walk away.
They will argue and give each other the cold shoulder in front of everyone else, because they are stubborn like children.
Tay will video-call and say he is fine, even if his watery smiles haven’t quite reached his eyes for a long while now.
And New.
New will find a way to make him come back. Because this nothing belongs to him, to the two of them, and the flames of guilt and regret might as well just consume them both until nothing is left behind for everyone else to see and judge.
The sooner Tay wakes up, the sooner he will realize what happened last night, and then he’ll look at New with that addicting mix of love and confusion and selflessness and hurt and surrender that New can’t get enough of.
He closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to Tay’s forehead.
“You belong with me, love.”
Before. Now. Always.
all yours,
faded_lace!