We All Want What We Can't Have

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july 16th, 1963. 6 years old.


"hmph."

"dongyoung please-"

"no."

"just this once-"

"did you not hear a bloody word i just said? now shoo! scum."

dongyoung pulls on the collar of his silk blazer so it would fall back on his shoulders nicely. he walks (read: marches) away from yuta, the poor boy on his knees, begging in forgiveness.

a rushed maid scurries from the direction that dongyoung exited. holding a dustpan and a handheld broom. she sweeps up the glass from the broken street lamp.

"i-i'm sorry about your ball, sir," she stutters while bowing to yuta.

the young boy just gives her a weak smile in return before walking the opposite direction, shoulders hunched and facial expression sunken.


september 8th, 1968. 11 years old.


"can we please take a different route?"

"why? are you too much of a wuss? too scared to face the big bad dongyoung?"

"shut up, ten."

"'oh look at me, i'm dongyoung, i'm so much better than everyone because i've got me posh clothes 'n a couple hundred quid in the bank.' just ignore 'im yu, he's a nutter."

yuta sighs, but they continue to take the short route back to his house.


may 29th, 1971. 14 years old.


yuta stares at the boy from across the field. he's sat in a chair, one leg over the other, literature in hand. yuta almost tips over when the croquet mallet slips from under his hand. ten could be heard faintly in the distance, laughing. he turns to glare at said boy. yuta directs his eyes back to the boy reading literature. he stares awhile longer.


august 1st, 1974. 17 years old.


"no way, ten."

"oh c'mon, yuta."

"never in a gazillion years."

"don't be such a skive. it'll be fun!"

"getting pissed in that wanker's backyard? i don't bloody think so."

"oh, so this is about dongyoung, huh?" ten grins impishly.

"i'm just not interested."

"whatever you say, mate." ten pats yuta on the back and leaves for the party.


october 26th, 1974. 18 years old.


dongyoung stares out his bedroom window. just beyond the edges of his family's crisp and kempt garden, one nakamoto yuta could be seen, surrounded by other boys of different age and background, creating noise down the streets of their bourgeoisie town.

the boy sighs, longing.


october 27th, 1974. 18 years old.


yuta stumbles down the empty streets as he makes his way home from a crazy night. he pays little attention to his surroundings until he approaches the kim manor, just a few houses down from his own.

he stares at it. a gorgeous front gate gilded in fluorescent rhinestones to remind everyone within a kilometer radius that they'll never be as rich as the kims. a garden seemingly kilometers long with a path through the center of it all. a path leading to a grand front door which entered a mansion stretching as far as the eye can see. an extravagant home only for extravagant people.

the boy sighs, longing.


february 28th, 1976. 19 years old.


yuta is walking his normal route home from work when he hears a flurry of voices with a panicked one in the mix. typically he'd just ignore it but something pulls him toward the source of the noise.

he peers his head down a sketchy looking alleyway to see his childhood arch nemesis in a crowd of older looking men.

"the fuck you blokes doin' 'ere?! leave the damned boy alone!" yuta pulls out an old looking revolver and aims it at the crowd surrounding dongyoung, causing them to scurry away.

a small thud sounds and yuta puts his focus back on dongyoung as the boy falls to his knees.

yuta looks down at the boy, shaking and clearly drunk. a sense of deja vu washes over him.


february 1st, 1977. 20 years old.


yuta makes his way up to the rhinestone gilded gate. it feels familiar to him, yet so unfamiliar at the same time. he pushes it open and starts the trek to the front door.

'no wonder this family is full of skinny folk, it's an entire damn exercise just to walk the house.'

he lets himself in, as he'd done many times before.

"yuta."

"... dongyoung."

silence fills the room as yuta stares at the boy making his way down the enchanted staircase.

"i brought you something."

yuta's eyes never leave dongyoung's.

"you really didn't have to-"

"i wanted to."

more silence.

"... no one else was going to."

dongyoung doesn't respond and takes the wrapped gift yuta offers him before walking away.

"parents?"

"france."

"figures."

"hmm."


august 21st, 1983. 26 years old.

"yuta?"

"yes, dongyoung?"

"thank you."

yuta sat up from his laid position on their bed, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"for what, babe?"

"for loving me when no one else would."


-
  

"We understand that there are pieces of this story that you are missing.

We want you to understand that the pins in the board will sometimes mean more than the threads that connect them."

-

credits to the original author of the quote at the end!! it's from a johnjae fic i read once and i think about it so much, it's literally my favorite quote

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