[he muses idly as he slurps up the last of them. it's kind of an unsatisfying end to that bowl of ramen—they've definitely done better in that regard. it's not like it's really important to him at all though; it's just an idle thing to say, to acknowledge before he moves his chopsticks for more kimchi, all the while never shifting from where he comfortably leans.
it's so oddly comfortable like this. just to say unimportant things and deflect putting the feelings into words while still taking solace in the fact that heung soo is someone that he can lean on this way. in some ways, it's still weird to think about despite how comfortable it is because it feels so... unlike himself. maybe nam soon became accustomed to his loneliness and self-deprecation, even though it was because he'd always relied on heung soo to pull him away from those things. now it's just a little more so, and a little differently, and definitely only in the privacy of their own living space.
nam soon doesn't want to move though. because weird as it may be in some ways, it's comfortable. it's reassuring. it's a solid reminder of heung soo's tangibility; they both need that a lot. but it's also just that it's cozy. even if in his younger years, before he lost the interest in maintaining relationships with anyone, he thought that he would be the one standing as the support, being leaned on, being "the man," or whatever it would be considered... he's fine like this. he's not suited for supporting anyone but his bastard of a best friend, and he's much more suited for sitting this way, accepting the support rather than giving it.
but really, isn't this giving it in some way too? nam soon's not sure... and thinking too much about it makes him kind of sleepy, because he's just totally clueless to how these things work. maybe that's what happens when you completely shut yourself off for three years and live as barely a person during those formative teenage years... who knows. nam soon sure as hell doesn't, but he's not even sure it matters anymore. not when they're like this.]
no subject
[he muses idly as he slurps up the last of them. it's kind of an unsatisfying end to that bowl of ramen—they've definitely done better in that regard. it's not like it's really important to him at all though; it's just an idle thing to say, to acknowledge before he moves his chopsticks for more kimchi, all the while never shifting from where he comfortably leans.
it's so oddly comfortable like this. just to say unimportant things and deflect putting the feelings into words while still taking solace in the fact that heung soo is someone that he can lean on this way. in some ways, it's still weird to think about despite how comfortable it is because it feels so... unlike himself. maybe nam soon became accustomed to his loneliness and self-deprecation, even though it was because he'd always relied on heung soo to pull him away from those things. now it's just a little more so, and a little differently, and definitely only in the privacy of their own living space.
nam soon doesn't want to move though. because weird as it may be in some ways, it's comfortable. it's reassuring. it's a solid reminder of heung soo's tangibility; they both need that a lot. but it's also just that it's cozy. even if in his younger years, before he lost the interest in maintaining relationships with anyone, he thought that he would be the one standing as the support, being leaned on, being "the man," or whatever it would be considered... he's fine like this. he's not suited for supporting anyone but his bastard of a best friend, and he's much more suited for sitting this way, accepting the support rather than giving it.
but really, isn't this giving it in some way too? nam soon's not sure... and thinking too much about it makes him kind of sleepy, because he's just totally clueless to how these things work. maybe that's what happens when you completely shut yourself off for three years and live as barely a person during those formative teenage years... who knows. nam soon sure as hell doesn't, but he's not even sure it matters anymore. not when they're like this.]