[fic] Rhythm
Title: Rhythm
Rating: G
Pairings: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Length: 735 words
Summary: myungsoo watches sungyeol sleep. Master's Sun!AU.
A/N: Originally posted here.
myungsoo watches sungyeol sleep.
they're lying side-by-side, too close for myungsoo's comfort (he remembers that once he ached for touch, lived for it, but he doesn't know what that feels like anymore). sungyeol's face is half-buried in the pillow, hair fanned out over it, a deep golden-brown under the yellow lights. myungsoo thinks, disgruntled, that he looks entirely too comfortable. it annoys him.
the warm hand beneath his is an almost foreign sensation. myungsoo has to constantly resist the urge to pull away and roll over, hide under the blankets where he's safe from lee sungyeol and his overbearing touches that remind myungsoo of himself and his ghosts, his stupid ghosts that have ruined myungsoo's life. myungsoo takes a deep breath, clenching his free hand in the sheets. he reminds himself that it's just tonight that he'll have to spend so uncomfortably close to sungyeol, and tomorrow, he can kick him out and everything can go back to normal. as normal as it's been since sungyeol barged into his life.
the way sungyeol takes his touch has always annoyed myungsoo like no other. he swears he can still feel his skin tingling after sungyeol randomly grabs his arm for a few seconds and lets it go immediately after, because that's lee sungyeol-he steals whatever touch he needs and then he lets go and escapes responsibility after doing the damage. myungsoo has literally had to stop himself from punching sungyeol out on several occasions when sungyeol grabbed his arm or shoulder or even his hand without a hint of warning. the worst part is that myungsoo knows (sungyeol has said) that it could be much, much worse. "you're lucky," sungyeol always says, "i don't grab you every time i see a ghost, or i might as well just handcuff you to me. you'd never get away."
myungsoo still feels like he'll never get away from lee sungyeol.
sungyeol is almost too still in sleep. if myungsoo couldn't hear his breathing in the utter silence of his room, he'd wonder if sungyeol had joined all the ghosts he always saw. but instead he can't help focusing on everything else, like the perpetual dark circles under his eyes and the line of his neck and how unexpectedly long his eyelashes are. myungsoo reminds himself that lee sungyeol is an utter nuisance who has only disrupted his life; so far, he hasn't gained a thing from all his interactions with him.
the yellow light makes sungyeol look unhealthily pale. myungsoo glances down at the hand he's holding, notes the stark green-blue of sungyeol's veins against his skin. actually, he doesn't think sungyeol can be too healthy. he's already admitted to being weak of body yet avoids hospitals ("i used to go a lot, but now i don't like to anymore") and mostly tries to survive on over-the-counter meds and curling up in a bed where he can't get a good night's sleep. myungsoo glares at sungyeol, lamenting his stupidity as he smooths a thumb over sungyeol's skin-but immediately afterward, he finds himself wondering why it should matter to him whether sungyeol gets enough sleep or not.
he doesn't find an answer to that question, so he gives it up.
he ends up going back to watching sungyeol, listening to the steady rhythm of his breaths, matching his own to it out of a lack of anything better to do. sungyeol is an arm's length away, their clasped hands carefully angled away from both their bodies; myungsoo has no intention to wake up any closer to sungyeol than he already is. he closes his eyes and breathes in. he reminds himself that sungyeol has long-term use to him and that's why he's keeping him around; he lets sungyeol stay here because his powers are valuable. he ignores the memories of sungyeol's smile and forced bravado-filled grin, of the abject fear that leaks off him when he sees something bad enough that he'll reach out to grip myungsoo, of the way he looks at myungsoo sometimes, teasing and light and warm annoying.
myungsoo doesn't think about it at all. he keeps his eyes closed, and fills his world with the simple rhythm of breathing, steady and firm. he won't think about sungyeol. there's nothing to be gained in doing so.
when he finally starts slipping into sleep, sungyeol's hand still clasped in his, he pretends he kept that promise.
Rating: G
Pairings: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Length: 735 words
Summary: myungsoo watches sungyeol sleep. Master's Sun!AU.
A/N: Originally posted here.
myungsoo watches sungyeol sleep.
they're lying side-by-side, too close for myungsoo's comfort (he remembers that once he ached for touch, lived for it, but he doesn't know what that feels like anymore). sungyeol's face is half-buried in the pillow, hair fanned out over it, a deep golden-brown under the yellow lights. myungsoo thinks, disgruntled, that he looks entirely too comfortable. it annoys him.
the warm hand beneath his is an almost foreign sensation. myungsoo has to constantly resist the urge to pull away and roll over, hide under the blankets where he's safe from lee sungyeol and his overbearing touches that remind myungsoo of himself and his ghosts, his stupid ghosts that have ruined myungsoo's life. myungsoo takes a deep breath, clenching his free hand in the sheets. he reminds himself that it's just tonight that he'll have to spend so uncomfortably close to sungyeol, and tomorrow, he can kick him out and everything can go back to normal. as normal as it's been since sungyeol barged into his life.
the way sungyeol takes his touch has always annoyed myungsoo like no other. he swears he can still feel his skin tingling after sungyeol randomly grabs his arm for a few seconds and lets it go immediately after, because that's lee sungyeol-he steals whatever touch he needs and then he lets go and escapes responsibility after doing the damage. myungsoo has literally had to stop himself from punching sungyeol out on several occasions when sungyeol grabbed his arm or shoulder or even his hand without a hint of warning. the worst part is that myungsoo knows (sungyeol has said) that it could be much, much worse. "you're lucky," sungyeol always says, "i don't grab you every time i see a ghost, or i might as well just handcuff you to me. you'd never get away."
myungsoo still feels like he'll never get away from lee sungyeol.
sungyeol is almost too still in sleep. if myungsoo couldn't hear his breathing in the utter silence of his room, he'd wonder if sungyeol had joined all the ghosts he always saw. but instead he can't help focusing on everything else, like the perpetual dark circles under his eyes and the line of his neck and how unexpectedly long his eyelashes are. myungsoo reminds himself that lee sungyeol is an utter nuisance who has only disrupted his life; so far, he hasn't gained a thing from all his interactions with him.
the yellow light makes sungyeol look unhealthily pale. myungsoo glances down at the hand he's holding, notes the stark green-blue of sungyeol's veins against his skin. actually, he doesn't think sungyeol can be too healthy. he's already admitted to being weak of body yet avoids hospitals ("i used to go a lot, but now i don't like to anymore") and mostly tries to survive on over-the-counter meds and curling up in a bed where he can't get a good night's sleep. myungsoo glares at sungyeol, lamenting his stupidity as he smooths a thumb over sungyeol's skin-but immediately afterward, he finds himself wondering why it should matter to him whether sungyeol gets enough sleep or not.
he doesn't find an answer to that question, so he gives it up.
he ends up going back to watching sungyeol, listening to the steady rhythm of his breaths, matching his own to it out of a lack of anything better to do. sungyeol is an arm's length away, their clasped hands carefully angled away from both their bodies; myungsoo has no intention to wake up any closer to sungyeol than he already is. he closes his eyes and breathes in. he reminds himself that sungyeol has long-term use to him and that's why he's keeping him around; he lets sungyeol stay here because his powers are valuable. he ignores the memories of sungyeol's smile and forced bravado-filled grin, of the abject fear that leaks off him when he sees something bad enough that he'll reach out to grip myungsoo, of the way he looks at myungsoo sometimes, teasing and light and warm annoying.
myungsoo doesn't think about it at all. he keeps his eyes closed, and fills his world with the simple rhythm of breathing, steady and firm. he won't think about sungyeol. there's nothing to be gained in doing so.
when he finally starts slipping into sleep, sungyeol's hand still clasped in his, he pretends he kept that promise.