The Wall
Author(s)Ruinwyn
Updated Jun 22, 2015
Published Jun 21, 2015
Status [M], Completed
Tags gtop canon pining
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A/N: The lyrics at the beginning are from Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” off of The Wall, which incidentally happens to be the title of this chapter.
To everyone who has commented so far, I appreciate it so much. I love reading your theories and opinions as well as your rants at me for making you cry. Sorry I at replying. I’m always afraid I’m going to accidentally spoil something if I say too much, but then I’m also afraid that a simple ‘thank you’ isn’t enough D:
But thank you, sincerely. You all keep me writing.
Hello,
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Seunghyun stared up at the ceiling over his bed as Pink Floyd played mournfully in the background. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It felt like years, but it might’ve only been minutes. No, it had to have been longer than that. He was pretty sure he’d already reached this song once tonight.
He’d been here ever since he’d left Seungho’s, not even bothering to change out of his jeans before collapsing onto his bed. He stared at the bracelet he’d won for a few hard moments before shoving it away in his pocket. It wasn’t like he had any use for it now.
He lay there, numb, blinking but not seeing, the melody of the song sweeping away his thoughts before they had a chance to coalesce. He felt suspended in time, just him and the new hole in his heart.
At some point, he heard the front door creak open and then the soft shuffle of feet getting louder with each step. Another door opened, and Seunghyun heard the sound of weight shifting against a mattress through the wall. Jiyong was finally home.
The knowledge sat inside him like acid, eating away at him from the inside. His elusive thoughts came into sharp focus, each one a needle pricking at his mind. Thoughts of Jiyong and Joowon twined together, nothing between them but skin, Jiyong’s face drawn up in pleasure, making those same sounds he’d made for Seunghyun. The images played over and over in his mind, a torturous montage that refused to stop.
He heard Jiyong roll over before knocking on the wall between them.
Seunghyun didn’t knock back.
He stayed in his room for most of the next day. He got up to piss once, but then came right back to bed, finally shucking his jeans in favor of a worn pair of pajama pants. He let his jeans stay in a crumpled heap on the floor along with his other recently discarded clothes.
He switched out The Wall for The Dark Side of the Moon, but other than that, it was just more of the same. He lay sprawled on his back watching the shadows change shape as the sun shifted outside the window.
Jiyong came to see him sometime in the afternoon. He came strolling in just like usual, plopping down on the bed like he had just as much right to be there as Seunghyun. “Are you gonna get up today?” he teased. “Or are you just planning on sleeping?”
“I’m not sleeping,” Seunghyun replied, dully. He kept his eyes on the ceiling.
“Okay, so I was thinking, you know how you mentioned that sushi place the other day? I thought we could go today.”
“No, thanks.”
Jiyong shifted toward him on the bed, pushing playfully at Seunghyun’s hip. “Aww, come on. You love sushi.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Laughing, Jiyong pushed at him again. “You’re always hungry. Please?” he cajoled. “I’ll even pay this time. My treat for you helping me out with Joowon.”
The words left a sour taste on his tongue. He didn’t want any thanks for that. “That’s okay. I’m good.”
But Jiyong couldn’t leave well enough alone. He kneaded at Seunghyun’s hip, rocking him against the mattress, bottom lip pushed out. “Oppa,” he whined.
The moniker struck a nerve in Seunghyun. “I’m not your boyfriend,” he snapped. “Find someone else to take you.”
Jiyong flinched. Seunghyun could see the flicker of hurt just before Jiyong masked it. “Whatever,” Jiyong huffed. “Come find me when you’re done being such a grump.” He got up and walked back out.
Jiyong kept his distance after that. When Seunghyun ventured out later that evening to scavenge for food, the others tip-toed around him, wary. His misery clung to him like a raincloud over his head, thunder crackling as he moved about the kitchen.
On his way back to his room, he heard Seungri mutter, “What’s his problem?”
Jiyong scoffed and whispered back, “I don’t know. He’s in one of his moods.”
Seunghyun had to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out. He took in a calming breath before resuming his trek to his room. He closed the door behind him, shutting himself and his hurt away. It roiled inside him like a sickness, expanding under the heat of his frustrations, nearly bursting at his seams. Seunghyun stubbornly held it in.
The problem with being a fake boyfriend was that you were only practice for the real boyfriend, and once the