12 Works by brixlight
Listing Works
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Ryul’s eyes dip slightly, just for a second, or maybe Ohyul only imagines it. Maybe he’s just looking at their hands, at the way Ohyul’s wrists are still caught in his grip.
He only manages a frown in response. “What?”
“You’re so wound up you don’t even know what to do with it anymore.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Ohyul snaps automatically, hoping to god Ryul is talking about the argument and not anything else.
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Jay wants to reach out and say stop pretending, but he knows he can’t. He’s the reason Jungwon’s pretending in the first place. He’s the reason Jungwon’s speaking like someone told him exactly what kind of person Jay would want — quiet, agreeable, easy to accommodate.
The words stick to his tongue like dried blood.
“Jungwon, I just— you can hate me,” he settles on finally, “I wouldn’t blame you.”
There’s a pause. Jungwon blinks, and then his expression softens just a little. He gives a small shrug, elegant and weightless.
“I don’t,” he says. “I don’t feel much of anything right now.”
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He’s not sure what’s different tonight, though arguably, a thousand things are: His hair, for one, is all buzzed down, rough and strange under his fingers. His bag is packed, his apartment is too clean. He won’t be back here for months, won’t be back to this version of his life for even longer.
Maybe it’s that, some last-minute flood of courage, some chemical response to the dread of the unknown.
Or maybe it’s the way Jungwoo hugged him backstage after his final show, the full weight of him, arms wound around Jaehyun’s shoulders, face buried in his neck like he didn’t want to let go.
Maybe it’s just the soju. Whatever the reason, right now, Jaehyun’s mind has settled on a single, impossible thought: What if.
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something in the way you've been running my mind by brixlight
Fandoms: Monsta X (Band), NCT (Band)
20 Aug 2025
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In this industry, you learn not to overread things. It’s muscle memory now, the way he talks himself down from every moment that might otherwise feel like something. He’s practiced, well-trained, too good at it by now.
Still. People don’t say come over that late on a Saturday unless it’s for sex. Right? The rules haven’t suddenly changed and no one told him?
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Doyoung doesn’t even look at the money. His gaze is sharp, but unreadable. He looks at Junghwan like he’s trying to figure out if he’s actually insane.
Junghwan shakes his head, fast, his throat closing. “I just— I don’t want to go without.. without ever— without knowing what it’s like. To be close to someone.” His voice drops, trembling. “Or… not just anyone. You.”
Doyoung’s jaw tightens. His eyes darken, his shoulders tightening like he’s bracing himself.
“You signed up for the surface program,” Doyoung says at last, voice low. Not a question.
Junghwan nods. “They start dosing us next week.”
Doyoung closes his eyes, just for a second. And when they open again, they look older. Sadder.
“You idiot,” he whispers.
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“I would’ve picked you up,” he says. „You know that, right?”
He means it. He’ll always make time, even if it’s short notice, even if it’s 3 a.m. at Incheon and he has a shoot in the morning. Sometimes he still wonders if Baekhyun knows that, if he fully believes him.
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Jungwon turns to face him, eyes burning. “You don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Jay exhales sharply through his nose, his patience fraying at the edges now, and Jungwon feels a sharp stab of vindication. Finally. Finally, something is getting through.
“You think we care?” Jay says. “That it would change anything? You’re our leader, Jungwon.”
Jungwon flinches. He doesn’t mean to, but the words hit him hard. He wants to believe it... God, he wants to believe it so badly. But that isn’t how the world works, and Jay knows that. Or maybe Jay doesn’t, because Jay is an alpha, and alphas always have a place. Jungwon is the one who might not.
Series
- Part 1 of it's not our fate
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Jungwoo doesn’t move. His heart’s starting to race, like it knows something might happen even if nothing has yet.
"You cold?" Jaehyun asks.
Jungwoo turns to look at him, their faces suddenly just a few inches apart in the half-light. His breath hitches. Jaehyun’s eyes flick to his mouth. Then back up.
"No," Jungwoo whispers. "Are you?"
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Softness isn’t the language a child athlete gets to be fluent in, even under the best of circumstances. It sounds like an excuse, thinking about it like that, like he’s trying to justify himself. But the truth is, touch always came second to effort.
And then he came here, and Sunoo gave it to him freely. Warm hands and easy smiles, teasing him but always available, his scent later blooming with warmth whenever Sunghoon touched him, citrus and vanilla, bright enough to cut through any of the noise.
Sunghoon had no idea what to do with it, then, but he knew he needed to hold on to it.
Series
- Part 2 of it's not our fate
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He bites his lip, hesitating. The words are right there, teetering on the edge of his tongue.
“Do you ever…” he starts, his voice low and tentative.
Yuma blinks, looking down at him. “Do I ever what?”
Taki freezes. His heart is pounding, and his throat feels dry. He should say it. He should just ask. But he can’t bring himself to. “Never mind,” he mutters, staring down at their hands. “It’s a dumb question.”
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"Things like what?" Nico presses, his frustration mounting. He switches to Japanese, trying to get them on even footing again.
They’d agreed on this. Japanese for arguments, so Euijoo doesn’t have that advantage. Their Japanese isn’t perfect—it never will be—but that is the point. This way, neither of them can fall back on language as a weapon. It is supposed to level the field, make things fair.
"Existing in the same space as you? Breathing the same air? Tell me, Euijoo, what exactly am I doing wrong here?"
The words hang in the air between them, heavy and charged. Euijoo's eyes dart away, focusing on a point just over Nico's shoulder. "You know what I mean," he mutters.
In Korean.
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Johnny knows he should stop this. He knows that every time they do this, it only makes the inevitable end harder. But Ten looks up at him through tear-stained lashes, his mouth hot and perfect, and in this moment, he can't bring himself to care.