9 Works by gustfront
Listing Works
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Summary
The signs were all there, blaring sirens.
Instead of taking note, Changbin just let both of them walk straight into the road to get hit. Guilt curdles in his stomach, impossible to ignore as he's staring down at his best friend's sleeping form, curled up in a pitiful excuse of a nest, face buried in the hoodie he'd lent Changbin last night.OR
When Chan goes into heat unexpectedly on the first day of their vacation, Changbin has to help out. It's what any best friend would do. Right?
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Summary
Changbin knows Chan like the back of his hand. Better, if he’s being honest.
Knowing Chan has become an intrinsic part of him. Looking for him first thing in any room, reaching out the moment he comes close enough to touch, reading his expressions and his body language whenever he’s in sight.
Easy as breathing. Just as important.
So it doesn’t come as a surprise, when Chan drapes himself over him, his back, the back of their couch and buries his face into the crook of Changbin’s neck. When he sighs deeply, nuzzles into the skin, his hair tickling on Changbin’s cheeks. He’d known something was up when Chan stepped into their apartment, steps just a bit heavier than usual.
OR
Chan has a bad day. Changbin is there to make it better.
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Dear Lee Minho,
or maybe it’s Han Minho by now? Or maybe I’m Lee Jisung… I like the sound of that too… sorry, that’s not the point and we still have soooo much time to decide! Let me try again!Dear Minho,
I’m sure that by the time you read this letter, life is gonna be great! We’ll be done with school, and have degrees and jobs and be adults for real! Isn’t that crazy to think about!? I hope we’ll all still be best friends, and that all of us are happy!(Back then, Jisung was so sure he’d have his happy end. A fairytale love story with his best friend, because it was the only thing that made sense. There was no option other than that.
Today, as he stuffs the envelope into his backpack with shaking hands and gasping breaths, he knows he’s in a tragedy, destined for heartbreak)
OR
At 15, Jisung writes a love letter. At 25, Jisung wants nothing less than for Minho to read it.
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Summary
Hyunjin shoves his back against their front door the second it closes.
“Do you even know how fucking insane you drive me?”Trepidation about what’s to come bleeds into confusion, bleeds into a complete jumble of emotions that leaves him gaping, heart galloping wildly. Hyunjin has stopped making sense, veered so far off track that Jeongin doesn’t know how to follow.
“What?!”
Hyunjin fists the collar of his shirt, steps so close that Jeongin can feel his chest heaving against his own. He’s confused, and still undeniably turned on, and there’s that look in Hyunjin’s eyes again, that dark, devouring hunger.
And Jeongin wants.
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Seungmin doesn’t think that falling in love is really falling. It’s hurtling, without control or say, down and down and down towards an undefined end and he doesn’t feel safe at all. Doesn’t know if he was just made for other people, if anyone was made for him.
He feels like screaming, but the wind rips his voice away from him, making it its own as it hurtles down cliff sides and through rock. Leaves him shivering and weak at the knees, just feet away from a long, long drop.OR
people don't talk about how terrifying it is to fall in love
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Summary
It's just Jisung and his suitcase, and Minho. Broader and older and more beautiful, leaning against the wall opposite him. The sight of him stops Jisung in his tracks.
It’s Minho, with his marble carved nose and high cheekbones, eyes dark and pretty and trained on him. Minho, with his oversized cardigans, still fond of sweater paws and pastel colours. Minho, with tousled dark hair and rosebud lips and that small shy smile that used to make Jisung stumble over his feet because he couldn’t stop staring.
Minho, who still feels like home even when he shouldn’t, and Jisung, who’s body moves on instinct, running and slamming into him.
It’s calm, quiet. Passersby don’t spare them a glance, airport reunions unworthy of their time. No screaming, no panic, nothing. Just Jisung, his suitcase abandoned behind him, and Minho, who’s hugs still smell like strawberry body wash and drugstore perfume.OR
Jisung and Minho split up years ago, and Jisung has since risen to fame. When everything gets to be too much, he calls the one person he could always rely on.
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Over the years of sleepless nights Chan has mastered the art of slipping out quietly, walking without making a sound. Of becoming a ghost in the night.
Over the years of Chan disappearing, Changbin has mastered the art of catching him, making sure he's dressed for the weather and that his phone is charged. Of tethering his ghost to earth.
OR:
Changbin and Chan, on vacation. Something shifts and they finally say out loud what has been between them for years. -
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Summary
Because here’s the thing. Minho is attractive. Hot. Beautiful even. And he sort of always has been, even when they were teenagers and Jisung was in that awkward gangly stage of his one and only growth spurt, with bad hair and worse glasses and acne-littered skin. Jisung can admit that Minho was the reason for a few frustrated orgasms in the early days of his sexual discovery journey.
Minho’s gotten more attractive since Jisung last saw him at his graduation, his hair longer and a dark shade of red instead of black. He’s grown into his body in ways Jisung never managed, stupid broad shoulders and jawline so sharp Jisung thinks he might cut his fingers open on it.
It’s absolutely infuriating.
The first time it happens really isn’t his fault. (That’s a lie, but Jisung has always been good at lying, even to himself.)
(or: Jisung hates his major and his mother, and Lee Minho. One of those is mostly a lie. He struggles with keeping it up.)
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Summary
It's like this:
Minho has a universe churning behind his ribs and roots growing through his nerves and he can no longer distinguish where he ends and they begin. It’s a little scary at times, to be so wholly devoted to another person, in those quiet moments when it’s just Minho with his thoughts.OR
Minho loves Jisung to the point of worship: a slow morning on a day off.