quackmaster
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“While the laughter slowly died down, Jay’s voice from across the campfire slipped through the overlapping sounds, scratchy and low, yet cutting through the noise in a way that made Niki look up.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
The words slid out so casually that Niki almost missed them, folded neatly between the crackle of the fire and the cicadas’ fading chorus. But once they reached him, they lodged deep, impossible to ignore.
He’d been working too hard, for too long, to shake off the image of the youngest who always needed looking after. Accepting help now would feel like undoing all of that.
And yet, Jay always found a way to sneak in through the cracks, make himself at home inside Niki’s ribs as if he’d always belonged there, steady and unwavering.
And maybe he had.”
Or: post wisdom-teeth surgery jayki shenanigans.
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“The pressure at the back of his neck was sharper tonight, chilling droplets of sweat cumulating on his skin faster than a windstorm. It wasn’t just a whisper of unease, but something real and tangible, something that crawled down his spine with ice-cold fingers, sinking, settling, watching.
Jay didn’t move.
Didn’t bolt upright. Didn’t throw the covers off or flick the lights on no matter how much he wished to. Instead, he just let his fingers curl into the sheets, let his lashes flutter, let his breath even out as if he was still teetering on the edge of sleep.
And then, carefully, so carefully, his gaze slid across the room.
And he saw him.
A figure at the edge of his bed.
Unnaturally still. Silent. Watching.”
Or: The hunger was eating away at Sunghoon from the inside, and all Jay wanted was to help him.
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“As Jay stepped into the room, he stopped in his tracks. On the couch lay a suspicious looking lump of blankets.
He blinked blankly as the cocoon of blankets on the couch suddenly started emitting a slew of muffled whining and unintelligible grumbling, shifting restlessly.
He shuffled closer and carefully poked it.
The cocoon of blankets shifted once more to reveal Niki, his tufts of black hair sticking up messily in all directions. The blankets were wrapped so tight around him that he looked like the world’s most miserable burrito. The tip of his nose was an angry shade of red, and his skin was oddly flushed. He cracked open his eyes, blinking slowly up at Jay with glassy exhaustion. His usual cool, nonchalant demeanor had completely crumbled as he let out the neediest whine known to man.”
Or: When all the members of Enhypen—except Jay—suddenly come down with a cold, he takes on the task of caring for them. But when he inevitably falls sick himself, he’s forced to learn how to let others take care of him.
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HIRAETH
(n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.Jay had asked: "Niki-ah, why not come with me?"
Flights were grounded indefinitely, snapping the fragile thread that connected him to home. There was no return ticket to Japan, no chance to visit his family or even perform for fans in person.
Maybe that was why Niki had accepted.
It would be the first New Year's he didn't spend with his family.
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Tags
Summary
“The pressure at the back of his neck was sharper tonight, chilling droplets of sweat cumulating on his skin faster than a windstorm. It wasn’t just a whisper of unease, but something real and tangible, something that crawled down his spine with ice-cold fingers, sinking, settling, watching.
Jay didn’t move.
Didn’t bolt upright. Didn’t throw the covers off or flick the lights on no matter how much he wished to. Instead, he just let his fingers curl into the sheets, let his lashes flutter, let his breath even out as if he was still teetering on the edge of sleep.
And then, carefully, so carefully, his gaze slid across the room.
And he saw him.
A figure at the edge of his bed.
Unnaturally still. Silent. Watching.”
Or: The hunger was eating away at Sunghoon from the inside, and all Jay wanted was to help him.