So Into You; PG-13; Myungsoo/Sungyeol
So Into You
Myungsoo/Sungyeol; PG-13; ~2,000w
4 times Sungyeol kisses Myungsoo, and 1 time Myungsoo has had enough.
A/N: what is this mess omg myungyeol the things you make me do. INSPIRED BY THIS GLORIOUS MYUNGYEOL GIF. enough said. also, it's so hard to decide the title so i just snag the title of the song i listened on loop while i wrote this ;____;
1.
The first time Sungyeol pulls him into a kiss, it was (really?) unintentional.
Their CEO has just dropped the big announcement, and the practice room is in chaos. “Seven of you,” he says, and their faces glow, “good luck. The road has just started.” Myungsoo has no idea how many times he is hugged after the CEO walks out of the practice room, letting them celebrate for the sake of the moment; he simply smiles, radiant, because god damn it, they are debuting.
But then he notices a weight is leaving his hand, fingers slipping from his palm, and he turns to see Sungyeol leaving them in a pile of hugs and sobs in the middle of the room. Myungsoo struggles then, pushing Sungjong with a chuckle, a pat on the head, before he follows Sungyeol to the hidden part of the room.
Sungyeol is crying; he can guess that much. Wailing, even, judging from the way his shoulder shakes so much. He touches Sungyeol’s side softly. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Sungyeol replies, his voice thick with bubbling happiness. Myungsoo laughs then, squatting beside him as he pushes the hair against his face, sticking all over with his tears. “Damn you.”
Myungsoo chuckles. “Sorry,” he says, dodging Sungyeol’s punch, “I didn’t know guys have these much tears.”
“Fuck you,” Sungyeol curses again, only his voice cracks and Myungsoo pinches his cheek playfully. “God, I fucking hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Myungsoo rests his chin against his palm, his other hand still playing with the other’s hair. “The feeling’s mutual, don’t worry.”
And then it’s quiet. There’s no awkwardness, only Sungyeol’s soft sobs and Myungsoo’s breathing, and Sungyeol says, “We’re debuting,” as if it will turn different if he says it out loud.
Myungsoo chuckles. “We really are,” he replies, mind’s distracted with the way Sungyeol looks at him. “That’s pretty quick, huh?” Sungyeol smiles, looks like he wants to nod. Looks like he wants to kiss Myungsoo. Or maybe it’s his reflection in Sungyeol’s eyes? “Sungyeol,” he starts, his voice drops into a whisper, “Sungyeol, I-,“
Sungyeol leans in.
(It’s quick. Myungsoo hasn’t even blinked his eyes when Sungyeol pulls back like he’s burning, standing up abruptly that Myungsoo falls to his side. “I’m sorry,” he says, or Myungsoo thinks he hears, because Sungyeol walks away right when he looks up.
The next day, Sungyeol touches him, as affectionate as ever. He finds himself the only one who gazes at the other’s lips every now and then, so he catches himself and pretends nothing happen.)
2.
Sungyeol turns and closes the gap between them for the second time the night Jiae leaves their dorm.
It’s slightly longer, but Myungsoo can’t exactly predict how long it is; Sungyeol presses the side of his neck, clinging to the front of his shirt like he is a desperate cat. Myungsoo doesn’t have the time to kiss back because Sungyeol pushes him as he closes his eyes. Their breaths collide.
“I’ve always wanted a younger sister,” Sungyeol breaks the silence, eyes ghosting over Myungsoo’s lips.
Myungsoo holds the urge to push him down. “You’re not even close to her.”
“You’re right,” Sungyeol says, releases his grips on his shirt, fingers tracing against his chest. “You’re absolutely right. Why am I crying again?”
Why did you kiss me again? “Because you have way too many tears for a guy,” he mocks, flicking his forehead with long nails. Sungyeol scowls in pain. “Come on, the others are worried.”
“Jerk,” Sungyeol kicks his calf.
“Excuse me,” Myungsoo kicks his stomach, offended. “I ran after you when you burst and locked yourself in this room, and I’m the jerk? I can see how fair your judgment is.”
“This room doesn’t even have a lock,” Sungyeol retorts with a frown.
“Theoretically, you will if this room does,” Myungsoo shrugs, and Sungyeol snorts. “Whatever, get up. At least wash yourself before you sleep, your snot is all over your face.”
Sungyeol huffs, getting up to his feet, “Fine.”
(Even when the back of their hands brush, Myungsoo is proud of himself for not giving up to the lust clouding over his head. Maybe he has to learn from Sungyeol to pretend that if you think it doesn’t happen, then it never does.)
3.
When Sungyeol pulls his collar and presses their lips together, Myungsoo can’t say he’s surprised.
Sungyeol has been jittery all morning, snaps to everyone who dare to touch him, pulls his hair all of a sudden when he’s not blabbering nonsense. He pulls his stage clothes twenty three times (he counts), and he only stops because their stylist hits his hand and threatens to just cut his shirt if he does it again. Sungyeol pouts then, channeling his fingers to Myungsoo’s hair.
“Stop it,” the hair-dresser tells him in annoyance before she applies gel to Myungsoo’s head.
“I’m nervous,” Sungyeol tells her, as if there’s anybody who hasn’t known.
The stylist is kind enough to offer a smile though. “I know,” she grins, pinching his cheek, “Your debut. Finally, after months of thinking the concept, you guys are going to show it to the world!”
“But I’m nervous,” he whines, swatting her hand away from his cheek. He looks at Myungsoo from the mirror, his eyes worried and glassy. “Myungsoo, I’m nervous.”
The hair-dresser rolls her eyes, continuing her job, but Myungsoo just chuckles and stretches his arm to take Sungyeol’s hand. “I know,” he says to their reflection, bringing their intertwined fingers to his lips, “I know, Sungyeol.”
Before they go on stage, Sungyeol kisses him; it’s slippery with lip-gloss, salty with sweat, sweet with expectation. Sungyeol’s eyes are bright, though his lips are shaking. “We can do this,” he says, maybe more to himself, but Myungsoo laughs and straightens their costumes.
“Of course,” he assures.
(There are fans chanting his-their names, camera zooming on their faces, lights against their movements and the microphones against the side of his mouth. There are dance moves to memorize, lines to sing, but even though Myungsoo hates to admit it, all he can remember from their debut day is the smile Sungyeol gives him when the recording is over.)
4.
The moment Sungyeol pushes him against the locked door, Myungsoo has already kissed him back.
They are celebrating their first anniversary. It’s a quiet party, done at their dorm after they finish their practice, body and mind and bones and brain tired and melting, but happy and satisfied. Sungjong suggests them to buy pizza and puts seven candles on it, one wish for each person, so they do just that. Woohyun plays ‘Can U Smile’ on his iPod, and Sunggyu teases him for being a sentimental bitch. Dongwoo laughs until he tears up.
Sungyeol drops his head to Myungsoo’s shoulder, bridge of his nose against his neck. “What do you wish for?” he asks loudly; maybe to everyone, maybe to him. Myungsoo looks at his side for a second, a glance of Sungyeol’s lips, before he (acts to) throws a curious look across the room.
It’s been months since their last kiss, and Myungsoo can honestly say that he doesn’t blame Sungyeol, not at all. He can understand (kind of) that as an idol, they need to take care of their image, take care of their fans, take care of everything. He gets it, really, and he knows that it’s a cheap trade with the superstardom they get. And maybe, just maybe, with them being too busy with their idol title, Myungsoo can erase the memories of Sungyeol’s lips with something more, he doesn’t know, appropriate. And moves on with his life.
Only Sungyeol is a bitch and he has to be so, so beautiful, and Myungsoo is left wondering by himself. But it’s fine. He’s too busy to take an action, and Sungyeol doesn’t let him anyway.
“More Inspirits’ love, obviously,” Woohyun deadpans, before Hoya throws a slice of pizza to his face. “What? It’s true!”
“For our group’s health,” Sunggyu laughs, “God knows we need it.”
“Maybe if you stop putting in those drugs into your body, you can be healthy and young like us,” Woohyun pokes his arm and moves away before Sunggyu throws him a punch.
“Long live Infinite,” Dongwoo cheers, holding up a can of coke, and drinks it before anyone cheers with him.
Sungjong pinches him before turns to Myungsoo, “What’s your wish, hyung?”
“I,” he says, and he’s about to say ‘for us to get more variety shows’ or something stupid like ‘a new dorm, duh’ or even something as cheesy as ‘I hope we can all be happy this year’, but then Sungyeol moves and his eyelashes flutter against his skin and it makes him shiver and he looks down and all his words are gone, gone, go down to, “you.”
“What,” the others say.
“Huh,” Sungyeol says, lifting his head from Myungsoo’s shoulder.
“As in,” Myungsoo quickly tries to fix himself, “in, uh, you all to be happy,” he finishes lamely. “Of course.”
“That’s cheesier than me,” Woohyun accuses, as if his title as the cheesiest is stolen.
“No one is cheesier than you,” Dongwoo pats his back.
Myungsoo doesn’t look at Sungyeol, but he can feel his gaze burning.
(Sungyeol touches the back of his neck when the others are sleeping noisily, a touch full of want and hope and Myungsoo thinks he is crazy, but it’s almost like they have been waiting for it. He leans to the touch and looks up, eyes straight, and Sungyeol bows down to kiss the tip his nose, giggling.
Quiet, quiet.
Myungsoo has no idea why or who starts first, but suddenly they are (quiet, quiet) kissing against the door to his room, Sungyeol’s leg hitches against his hip, the other against his-he chokes down a moan, biting to the other’s lips. The kiss is heated, much more heated, as if they have already known where this is going this time, as if they are not going to stop, not now. Myungsoo slips a hand between them, cold skin with hot fingers, and Sungyeol stops.
Of course. Sungyeol suddenly reaches down, grasping his fingers tightly, and his mouth is gone. “The members,” Sungyeol says, standing straight now. “You-this is-we can’t do this.”
Myungsoo wants to punch something, preferably living things. Preferably Sungyeol, because he does this and he does that and they contradict each other and Myungsoo thinks he’s going to go crazy if he is being left alone.
Actually, just call him crazy. He’s going to worry about that later, but now.
“No,” Myungsoo feels himself saying right when Sungyeol pushes him, for another reason, before Sungyeol pushes him and tells him to forget everything again. “No, Sungyeol, you hear me? No. I won’t do it your way this time.”
Sungyeol’s eyebrows are raised, and the grips against his arms tighten, “But,” he whispers against his lips. He doesn’t say no as Myungsoo pulls him back.)
5.
“Myungsoo,” Sungyeol says, and Myungsoo loves the way he says it, like his name is the only name in the world, the only name that keeps him afloat, so he kisses his collarbone, just because. “Hey, Myungsoo.”
It’s hot, hot, hot, and the boys are sleeping outside, and Myungsoo can’t think of anything else besides, “Sungyeol,” he says, “Sungyeol.”
Sungyeol laughs a little. “God,” he says, high-pitched and a little breathless, “you want me this much?”
You, you, you, Myungsoo thinks. “Yeah,” Myungsoo answers.
“I’m sorry,” Sungyeol traces his spine with teasing fingers, “for the way I did this these whole time. I’m sorry I told-no, forced you to forget. I’m just,” Sungyeol pauses, pushes him with enough force to make him stop, and they are drowning, taking more and more of each other through their eyes. “Myungsoo, I’m sorry.”
Myungsoo takes his time. He stares deeply at Sungyeol’s guilty look; Sungyeol tries to convey his apology to him, he knows, and it’s just. Myungsoo tangles his fingers with his hair. “You’re scared,” he kisses his cheek, “about this. About us. I know,” and Myungsoo wants to laugh because Sungyeol is a crybaby, because Sungyeol’s tears are salty against his lips. “I do, too.”
“I’m such a horrible person, aren’t I,” Sungyeol laughs, his voice sounds choked up, but Myungsoo laughs with him. “I’m sorry.”
This time, Myungsoo kisses him first, and neither of them will forget. “It’s okay,” he says, and Myungsoo holds back the urge to fall deeper, fall in love.
(He has fallen deep enough.)
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Myungsoo/Sungyeol; PG-13; ~2,000w
4 times Sungyeol kisses Myungsoo, and 1 time Myungsoo has had enough.
A/N: what is this mess omg myungyeol the things you make me do. INSPIRED BY THIS GLORIOUS MYUNGYEOL GIF. enough said. also, it's so hard to decide the title so i just snag the title of the song i listened on loop while i wrote this ;____;
1.
The first time Sungyeol pulls him into a kiss, it was (really?) unintentional.
Their CEO has just dropped the big announcement, and the practice room is in chaos. “Seven of you,” he says, and their faces glow, “good luck. The road has just started.” Myungsoo has no idea how many times he is hugged after the CEO walks out of the practice room, letting them celebrate for the sake of the moment; he simply smiles, radiant, because god damn it, they are debuting.
But then he notices a weight is leaving his hand, fingers slipping from his palm, and he turns to see Sungyeol leaving them in a pile of hugs and sobs in the middle of the room. Myungsoo struggles then, pushing Sungjong with a chuckle, a pat on the head, before he follows Sungyeol to the hidden part of the room.
Sungyeol is crying; he can guess that much. Wailing, even, judging from the way his shoulder shakes so much. He touches Sungyeol’s side softly. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Sungyeol replies, his voice thick with bubbling happiness. Myungsoo laughs then, squatting beside him as he pushes the hair against his face, sticking all over with his tears. “Damn you.”
Myungsoo chuckles. “Sorry,” he says, dodging Sungyeol’s punch, “I didn’t know guys have these much tears.”
“Fuck you,” Sungyeol curses again, only his voice cracks and Myungsoo pinches his cheek playfully. “God, I fucking hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Myungsoo rests his chin against his palm, his other hand still playing with the other’s hair. “The feeling’s mutual, don’t worry.”
And then it’s quiet. There’s no awkwardness, only Sungyeol’s soft sobs and Myungsoo’s breathing, and Sungyeol says, “We’re debuting,” as if it will turn different if he says it out loud.
Myungsoo chuckles. “We really are,” he replies, mind’s distracted with the way Sungyeol looks at him. “That’s pretty quick, huh?” Sungyeol smiles, looks like he wants to nod. Looks like he wants to kiss Myungsoo. Or maybe it’s his reflection in Sungyeol’s eyes? “Sungyeol,” he starts, his voice drops into a whisper, “Sungyeol, I-,“
Sungyeol leans in.
(It’s quick. Myungsoo hasn’t even blinked his eyes when Sungyeol pulls back like he’s burning, standing up abruptly that Myungsoo falls to his side. “I’m sorry,” he says, or Myungsoo thinks he hears, because Sungyeol walks away right when he looks up.
The next day, Sungyeol touches him, as affectionate as ever. He finds himself the only one who gazes at the other’s lips every now and then, so he catches himself and pretends nothing happen.)
2.
Sungyeol turns and closes the gap between them for the second time the night Jiae leaves their dorm.
It’s slightly longer, but Myungsoo can’t exactly predict how long it is; Sungyeol presses the side of his neck, clinging to the front of his shirt like he is a desperate cat. Myungsoo doesn’t have the time to kiss back because Sungyeol pushes him as he closes his eyes. Their breaths collide.
“I’ve always wanted a younger sister,” Sungyeol breaks the silence, eyes ghosting over Myungsoo’s lips.
Myungsoo holds the urge to push him down. “You’re not even close to her.”
“You’re right,” Sungyeol says, releases his grips on his shirt, fingers tracing against his chest. “You’re absolutely right. Why am I crying again?”
Why did you kiss me again? “Because you have way too many tears for a guy,” he mocks, flicking his forehead with long nails. Sungyeol scowls in pain. “Come on, the others are worried.”
“Jerk,” Sungyeol kicks his calf.
“Excuse me,” Myungsoo kicks his stomach, offended. “I ran after you when you burst and locked yourself in this room, and I’m the jerk? I can see how fair your judgment is.”
“This room doesn’t even have a lock,” Sungyeol retorts with a frown.
“Theoretically, you will if this room does,” Myungsoo shrugs, and Sungyeol snorts. “Whatever, get up. At least wash yourself before you sleep, your snot is all over your face.”
Sungyeol huffs, getting up to his feet, “Fine.”
(Even when the back of their hands brush, Myungsoo is proud of himself for not giving up to the lust clouding over his head. Maybe he has to learn from Sungyeol to pretend that if you think it doesn’t happen, then it never does.)
3.
When Sungyeol pulls his collar and presses their lips together, Myungsoo can’t say he’s surprised.
Sungyeol has been jittery all morning, snaps to everyone who dare to touch him, pulls his hair all of a sudden when he’s not blabbering nonsense. He pulls his stage clothes twenty three times (he counts), and he only stops because their stylist hits his hand and threatens to just cut his shirt if he does it again. Sungyeol pouts then, channeling his fingers to Myungsoo’s hair.
“Stop it,” the hair-dresser tells him in annoyance before she applies gel to Myungsoo’s head.
“I’m nervous,” Sungyeol tells her, as if there’s anybody who hasn’t known.
The stylist is kind enough to offer a smile though. “I know,” she grins, pinching his cheek, “Your debut. Finally, after months of thinking the concept, you guys are going to show it to the world!”
“But I’m nervous,” he whines, swatting her hand away from his cheek. He looks at Myungsoo from the mirror, his eyes worried and glassy. “Myungsoo, I’m nervous.”
The hair-dresser rolls her eyes, continuing her job, but Myungsoo just chuckles and stretches his arm to take Sungyeol’s hand. “I know,” he says to their reflection, bringing their intertwined fingers to his lips, “I know, Sungyeol.”
Before they go on stage, Sungyeol kisses him; it’s slippery with lip-gloss, salty with sweat, sweet with expectation. Sungyeol’s eyes are bright, though his lips are shaking. “We can do this,” he says, maybe more to himself, but Myungsoo laughs and straightens their costumes.
“Of course,” he assures.
(There are fans chanting his-their names, camera zooming on their faces, lights against their movements and the microphones against the side of his mouth. There are dance moves to memorize, lines to sing, but even though Myungsoo hates to admit it, all he can remember from their debut day is the smile Sungyeol gives him when the recording is over.)
4.
The moment Sungyeol pushes him against the locked door, Myungsoo has already kissed him back.
They are celebrating their first anniversary. It’s a quiet party, done at their dorm after they finish their practice, body and mind and bones and brain tired and melting, but happy and satisfied. Sungjong suggests them to buy pizza and puts seven candles on it, one wish for each person, so they do just that. Woohyun plays ‘Can U Smile’ on his iPod, and Sunggyu teases him for being a sentimental bitch. Dongwoo laughs until he tears up.
Sungyeol drops his head to Myungsoo’s shoulder, bridge of his nose against his neck. “What do you wish for?” he asks loudly; maybe to everyone, maybe to him. Myungsoo looks at his side for a second, a glance of Sungyeol’s lips, before he (acts to) throws a curious look across the room.
It’s been months since their last kiss, and Myungsoo can honestly say that he doesn’t blame Sungyeol, not at all. He can understand (kind of) that as an idol, they need to take care of their image, take care of their fans, take care of everything. He gets it, really, and he knows that it’s a cheap trade with the superstardom they get. And maybe, just maybe, with them being too busy with their idol title, Myungsoo can erase the memories of Sungyeol’s lips with something more, he doesn’t know, appropriate. And moves on with his life.
Only Sungyeol is a bitch and he has to be so, so beautiful, and Myungsoo is left wondering by himself. But it’s fine. He’s too busy to take an action, and Sungyeol doesn’t let him anyway.
“More Inspirits’ love, obviously,” Woohyun deadpans, before Hoya throws a slice of pizza to his face. “What? It’s true!”
“For our group’s health,” Sunggyu laughs, “God knows we need it.”
“Maybe if you stop putting in those drugs into your body, you can be healthy and young like us,” Woohyun pokes his arm and moves away before Sunggyu throws him a punch.
“Long live Infinite,” Dongwoo cheers, holding up a can of coke, and drinks it before anyone cheers with him.
Sungjong pinches him before turns to Myungsoo, “What’s your wish, hyung?”
“I,” he says, and he’s about to say ‘for us to get more variety shows’ or something stupid like ‘a new dorm, duh’ or even something as cheesy as ‘I hope we can all be happy this year’, but then Sungyeol moves and his eyelashes flutter against his skin and it makes him shiver and he looks down and all his words are gone, gone, go down to, “you.”
“What,” the others say.
“Huh,” Sungyeol says, lifting his head from Myungsoo’s shoulder.
“As in,” Myungsoo quickly tries to fix himself, “in, uh, you all to be happy,” he finishes lamely. “Of course.”
“That’s cheesier than me,” Woohyun accuses, as if his title as the cheesiest is stolen.
“No one is cheesier than you,” Dongwoo pats his back.
Myungsoo doesn’t look at Sungyeol, but he can feel his gaze burning.
(Sungyeol touches the back of his neck when the others are sleeping noisily, a touch full of want and hope and Myungsoo thinks he is crazy, but it’s almost like they have been waiting for it. He leans to the touch and looks up, eyes straight, and Sungyeol bows down to kiss the tip his nose, giggling.
Quiet, quiet.
Myungsoo has no idea why or who starts first, but suddenly they are (quiet, quiet) kissing against the door to his room, Sungyeol’s leg hitches against his hip, the other against his-he chokes down a moan, biting to the other’s lips. The kiss is heated, much more heated, as if they have already known where this is going this time, as if they are not going to stop, not now. Myungsoo slips a hand between them, cold skin with hot fingers, and Sungyeol stops.
Of course. Sungyeol suddenly reaches down, grasping his fingers tightly, and his mouth is gone. “The members,” Sungyeol says, standing straight now. “You-this is-we can’t do this.”
Myungsoo wants to punch something, preferably living things. Preferably Sungyeol, because he does this and he does that and they contradict each other and Myungsoo thinks he’s going to go crazy if he is being left alone.
Actually, just call him crazy. He’s going to worry about that later, but now.
“No,” Myungsoo feels himself saying right when Sungyeol pushes him, for another reason, before Sungyeol pushes him and tells him to forget everything again. “No, Sungyeol, you hear me? No. I won’t do it your way this time.”
Sungyeol’s eyebrows are raised, and the grips against his arms tighten, “But,” he whispers against his lips. He doesn’t say no as Myungsoo pulls him back.)
5.
“Myungsoo,” Sungyeol says, and Myungsoo loves the way he says it, like his name is the only name in the world, the only name that keeps him afloat, so he kisses his collarbone, just because. “Hey, Myungsoo.”
It’s hot, hot, hot, and the boys are sleeping outside, and Myungsoo can’t think of anything else besides, “Sungyeol,” he says, “Sungyeol.”
Sungyeol laughs a little. “God,” he says, high-pitched and a little breathless, “you want me this much?”
You, you, you, Myungsoo thinks. “Yeah,” Myungsoo answers.
“I’m sorry,” Sungyeol traces his spine with teasing fingers, “for the way I did this these whole time. I’m sorry I told-no, forced you to forget. I’m just,” Sungyeol pauses, pushes him with enough force to make him stop, and they are drowning, taking more and more of each other through their eyes. “Myungsoo, I’m sorry.”
Myungsoo takes his time. He stares deeply at Sungyeol’s guilty look; Sungyeol tries to convey his apology to him, he knows, and it’s just. Myungsoo tangles his fingers with his hair. “You’re scared,” he kisses his cheek, “about this. About us. I know,” and Myungsoo wants to laugh because Sungyeol is a crybaby, because Sungyeol’s tears are salty against his lips. “I do, too.”
“I’m such a horrible person, aren’t I,” Sungyeol laughs, his voice sounds choked up, but Myungsoo laughs with him. “I’m sorry.”
This time, Myungsoo kisses him first, and neither of them will forget. “It’s okay,” he says, and Myungsoo holds back the urge to fall deeper, fall in love.
(He has fallen deep enough.)
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