[20] lives of philosophers | PG-13 | kyumin, mimin, qmi
lives of philosophers
sungmin/kyuhyun, sungmin/zhou mi, zhou mi/kyuhyun | pg-13 | 1785w
sungmin and kyuhyun were never like that.
nothing is permanent
Sungmin knows it has never been like that between them. He knows better than anyone.
Kyuhyun isn't like that, he's told himself a hundred dozen times. We're not like that.
For the longest time, Sungmin wasn't like that either. You don't grow up in a country like this thinking like that, that you could be like that. It's just affection. It's just friendship. Skinship is the most natural outlet for people who are close, and who could be closer than two idols trapped in an industry bubble? With their schedules the way they are, their contracts the way they are, it's not that they can't see other people as much as it is that they just don't have the time. You learn to make friends with the people around you.
If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with, and so on.
Sungmin doesn't think twice about it when he finds himself gravitating towards Kyuhyun. Later, he looks back and takes some measure of pride in knowing he was one of the first: he was there when Kyuhyun was quieter, more unsure. He was there before Kyuhyun grew into himself, into his limbs and his confidence and his smile. Back when he was nothing but bones and awkwardness and the most beautiful voice Sungmin's ever heard, Sungmin was the one at his side.
Always at his side. Always circling back to him.
It's only natural to want to be around people who make you happy, Sungmin told himself back then. Again and again, until they almost lost Kyuhyun, and Sungmin realized it wasn't so simple.
Somewhere along the line, wanting a place in Kyuhyun's heart (knowing he had one) became something closer to I want to be number one in your heart. I want to belong to you, and for you to belong to me, in a way that is different from the way you look at other people. I want your smile for me to be special.
Once, a long time ago, he was asked in some interview or other what he would do if he found out his friend were like that and had a crush on him. A fright jolted down Sungmin's spine, a sick feeling spreading in his stomach. An ashy taste of something like fear in his mouth when he said, unthinkingly, I'd vomit on his face.
Because that's not natural. That's not right. That's not me, he insisted.
A hurtle of vitriol that circles him and chases back to the origin: so this is what you feel. This is you, Lee Sungmin, unnatural and wrong. There's no use lying to yourself.
And it terrified him, but he was young. It still terrifies him, now that he's older, but not because it's so many things he grew up knowing was different, sick, wrong-- Now it terrifies him when Kyuhyun looks away, when Kyuhyun drifts towards someone else and makes them laugh, when he becomes the center of someone else's world for a bit. The axis around which they spin.
Sungmin is not generally a jealous person or a petty one. He knows his strengths and his weaknesses; he has gotten better about honesty with himself. He knows, however, that the idea of losing Kyuhyun makes bile rise in his throat, makes his knuckles go white. Some part of him - the jealous and petty part - says, plaintively, I knew him first.
I knew him first and cared for him first and saw everything he was and could be first. I was his friend first. I was the one who made him feel welcome first. I was there first.
I loved him first.
But Kyuhyun isn't like that. Kyuhyun isn't concerned about firsts and lasts or most recents. He lives his life in the present, as it comes to him, more precious now than it was before. He knows now to laugh when he wants, speak his mind when he can, and do as he chooses. You only have this one life, he says, so he settles into himself and sings and dances and jokes and grows and changes until Sungmin looks at him and aches with the Kyuhyun he once knew, still so familiar in the Kyuhyun he sees now, except this Kyuhyun doesn't gravitate back towards Sungmin the way he once did. This Kyuhyun is strong and independent and selfish, in the way all people must be selfish, searching for what they love in the world around them.
It's only that now, what Kyuhyun loves is no longer only Sungmin. His world is bigger now and he wanders ever farther. It's not that he never looks back, not that he doesn't still love Sungmin or share secrets and jokes with him, passing countless nights with glasses of red wine and conversation - he does. It's just that, as he wanders, eyes keen and tongue sharp, into the endless expanse of his new world, he doesn't bring Sungmin along.
We must each traverse our own roads, Sungmin tells himself philosophically, and forge our own paths. He makes a kind of peace with it.
But the truth still tastes like ashes on his tongue, and a sour weight in his stomach.
*
(except)
Aside from Kyuhyun, Sungmin has always been generous with love and the people he loves.
He falls in love with Zhou Mi, helpless against that onslaught of smiles and enthusiasm and earnestness. It's a freeing feeling, unlike the claustrophobic way he feels about Kyuhyun. If Kyuhyun is the axis to Sungmin's world, circled, protected, enclosed, Zhou Mi is like a vast stretch of ocean and blue skies that go on forever, enough to share with the world twice over.
Sungmin feeds off Zhou Mi's energy and rediscovers the buoyancy he was promised from love: the light-heartedness, the light-headedness. The joy. Helpless smiles and warm embraces, as they loop their arms around each other and Zhou Mi looks at him with light in his eyes, the way Kyuhyun never looks at Sungmin. Like he's the only one.
They're not like that either. Zhou Mi's not like that. Sungmin, in this, is not like that either. His love for Zhou Mi is everything his love for Kyuhyun isn't - can't be - and that is why it's so easy.
So easy to forget that Sungmin isn't the only one to lose himself in Kyuhyun's dark eyes and the quirk of his smile, or the only one to tumble into the golden warmth of Zhou Mi's affections.
*
change
Never more than a brush of lips to the cheek, never more than a tangle of fingers, a warm arm around his waist, a shoulder to rest his head on - it's misleading to say "never more" when in reality it's "everything but". In the wealth of their affections, Sungmin's had everything but the closing of that last distance, everything but that final connection. Smiles and secrets, he's had, promises and companionship, support and encouragement, tears and sweat and exhaustion. Fights, even, complaints and flaring tempers and the ensuing apologies. Kyuhyun in his bed, Kyuhyun's arms holding him close, Kyuhyun's sleepy soft murmur of his name.
Everything, he thinks, but.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun's leaning into Zhou Mi with his arms wound tight around his neck, spine a supple curve. Practically on tip-toe between Zhou Mi's open legs, desperate to get as close as possible, his fingers lost in Zhou Mi's newly auburn hair. A hitched little sound, needy, escaping in the sliver of space between their mouths, as Zhou Mi's frantic hands clutch Kyuhyun ever-closer against him, against the bathroom wall of their hotel room.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun returns to their room and collapses into bed, flushed pink and drowsily satisfied under Sungmin's curious gaze. Was visiting the other dorm, he says, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back, pulling up his t-shirt just high enough to reveal the pale purple impression on his hip. The heavy-lidded gaze and the bitten red lips that curve into a small secretive smile.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun turns to look at Zhou Mi after every sentence, eyes dancing, seeking confirmation or reassurance. You're speaking in Korean, Sungmin wants to say, as his world threatens to spin off its axis. What are you looking for? And yet Kyuhyun's shoulder presses against Zhou Mi's, his thigh against Zhou Mi's, one unbroken line of contact as he interjects in Chinese and punctuates every sentence with another amused meeting of the eyes.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun's head tilts naturally towards his left, waiting for a private translation in his ear. An expectant pause, a nod of understanding, a shared moment in the midst of hundreds of public appearances. A private world created in the meeting of Zhou Mi's head tilted downwards, words ready on his lips, as Kyuhyun tilts up to receive. A perfect harmony.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun rolls his eyes and makes fun of Zhou Mi, the way he does things now, carefree and self-motivated. Without playing nice, he says what he pleases, but Sungmin watches the DVD and sees the light in Zhou Mi's smile, Kyuhyun's coat warm around his shoulders.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun looks at Zhou Mi when Zhou Mi calls him "Kuixian".
The way Kyuhyun's never looked at Sungmin, because he's not like that. We're not like that.
We're not like that, thinks Sungmin as he backs out of room with a silent lurch of his heart, leaving behind the carelessly half-open bathroom door. He shuts the hotel room door gently and leans his back against it, just a moment, sick with dizziness. The world has thrown him off-kilter, shifting almost literally beneath his feet.
If Kyuhyun is the axis to his planet, Zhou Mi is the sun to Kyuhyun's.
In his mind, Sungmin sees the blinding intensity of Zhou Mi's brightest smile, and aches.
He sees Kyuhyun, revolving around him, gravitating ever closer with or without knowing. Helplessly or willingly succumbing? Sungmin can only guess, but he remembers vividly the imprints of Kyuhyun's fingers in Zhou Mi's hair, the fit of their mouths.
I loved you first, Sungmin thinks as tears sting hot and bitter at his eyes. You gave me everything he couldn't. You gave him everything I wanted.
Zhou Mi's lips against Sungmin's cheek, warm and sweet with sincere affection. Smiling at him like he brightens Zhou Mi's world just by existing. Kyuhyun's thigh against Sungmin's, companionable as they talk long into the night. A rest stop along Kyuhyun's trek into the new world.
We were never like that.
But.
We're not like this.
Sungmin knows better than anyone.
sungmin/kyuhyun, sungmin/zhou mi, zhou mi/kyuhyun | pg-13 | 1785w
sungmin and kyuhyun were never like that.
nothing is permanent
Sungmin knows it has never been like that between them. He knows better than anyone.
Kyuhyun isn't like that, he's told himself a hundred dozen times. We're not like that.
For the longest time, Sungmin wasn't like that either. You don't grow up in a country like this thinking like that, that you could be like that. It's just affection. It's just friendship. Skinship is the most natural outlet for people who are close, and who could be closer than two idols trapped in an industry bubble? With their schedules the way they are, their contracts the way they are, it's not that they can't see other people as much as it is that they just don't have the time. You learn to make friends with the people around you.
If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with, and so on.
Sungmin doesn't think twice about it when he finds himself gravitating towards Kyuhyun. Later, he looks back and takes some measure of pride in knowing he was one of the first: he was there when Kyuhyun was quieter, more unsure. He was there before Kyuhyun grew into himself, into his limbs and his confidence and his smile. Back when he was nothing but bones and awkwardness and the most beautiful voice Sungmin's ever heard, Sungmin was the one at his side.
Always at his side. Always circling back to him.
It's only natural to want to be around people who make you happy, Sungmin told himself back then. Again and again, until they almost lost Kyuhyun, and Sungmin realized it wasn't so simple.
Somewhere along the line, wanting a place in Kyuhyun's heart (knowing he had one) became something closer to I want to be number one in your heart. I want to belong to you, and for you to belong to me, in a way that is different from the way you look at other people. I want your smile for me to be special.
Once, a long time ago, he was asked in some interview or other what he would do if he found out his friend were like that and had a crush on him. A fright jolted down Sungmin's spine, a sick feeling spreading in his stomach. An ashy taste of something like fear in his mouth when he said, unthinkingly, I'd vomit on his face.
Because that's not natural. That's not right. That's not me, he insisted.
A hurtle of vitriol that circles him and chases back to the origin: so this is what you feel. This is you, Lee Sungmin, unnatural and wrong. There's no use lying to yourself.
And it terrified him, but he was young. It still terrifies him, now that he's older, but not because it's so many things he grew up knowing was different, sick, wrong-- Now it terrifies him when Kyuhyun looks away, when Kyuhyun drifts towards someone else and makes them laugh, when he becomes the center of someone else's world for a bit. The axis around which they spin.
Sungmin is not generally a jealous person or a petty one. He knows his strengths and his weaknesses; he has gotten better about honesty with himself. He knows, however, that the idea of losing Kyuhyun makes bile rise in his throat, makes his knuckles go white. Some part of him - the jealous and petty part - says, plaintively, I knew him first.
I knew him first and cared for him first and saw everything he was and could be first. I was his friend first. I was the one who made him feel welcome first. I was there first.
I loved him first.
But Kyuhyun isn't like that. Kyuhyun isn't concerned about firsts and lasts or most recents. He lives his life in the present, as it comes to him, more precious now than it was before. He knows now to laugh when he wants, speak his mind when he can, and do as he chooses. You only have this one life, he says, so he settles into himself and sings and dances and jokes and grows and changes until Sungmin looks at him and aches with the Kyuhyun he once knew, still so familiar in the Kyuhyun he sees now, except this Kyuhyun doesn't gravitate back towards Sungmin the way he once did. This Kyuhyun is strong and independent and selfish, in the way all people must be selfish, searching for what they love in the world around them.
It's only that now, what Kyuhyun loves is no longer only Sungmin. His world is bigger now and he wanders ever farther. It's not that he never looks back, not that he doesn't still love Sungmin or share secrets and jokes with him, passing countless nights with glasses of red wine and conversation - he does. It's just that, as he wanders, eyes keen and tongue sharp, into the endless expanse of his new world, he doesn't bring Sungmin along.
We must each traverse our own roads, Sungmin tells himself philosophically, and forge our own paths. He makes a kind of peace with it.
But the truth still tastes like ashes on his tongue, and a sour weight in his stomach.
*
(except)
Aside from Kyuhyun, Sungmin has always been generous with love and the people he loves.
He falls in love with Zhou Mi, helpless against that onslaught of smiles and enthusiasm and earnestness. It's a freeing feeling, unlike the claustrophobic way he feels about Kyuhyun. If Kyuhyun is the axis to Sungmin's world, circled, protected, enclosed, Zhou Mi is like a vast stretch of ocean and blue skies that go on forever, enough to share with the world twice over.
Sungmin feeds off Zhou Mi's energy and rediscovers the buoyancy he was promised from love: the light-heartedness, the light-headedness. The joy. Helpless smiles and warm embraces, as they loop their arms around each other and Zhou Mi looks at him with light in his eyes, the way Kyuhyun never looks at Sungmin. Like he's the only one.
They're not like that either. Zhou Mi's not like that. Sungmin, in this, is not like that either. His love for Zhou Mi is everything his love for Kyuhyun isn't - can't be - and that is why it's so easy.
So easy to forget that Sungmin isn't the only one to lose himself in Kyuhyun's dark eyes and the quirk of his smile, or the only one to tumble into the golden warmth of Zhou Mi's affections.
*
change
Never more than a brush of lips to the cheek, never more than a tangle of fingers, a warm arm around his waist, a shoulder to rest his head on - it's misleading to say "never more" when in reality it's "everything but". In the wealth of their affections, Sungmin's had everything but the closing of that last distance, everything but that final connection. Smiles and secrets, he's had, promises and companionship, support and encouragement, tears and sweat and exhaustion. Fights, even, complaints and flaring tempers and the ensuing apologies. Kyuhyun in his bed, Kyuhyun's arms holding him close, Kyuhyun's sleepy soft murmur of his name.
Everything, he thinks, but.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun's leaning into Zhou Mi with his arms wound tight around his neck, spine a supple curve. Practically on tip-toe between Zhou Mi's open legs, desperate to get as close as possible, his fingers lost in Zhou Mi's newly auburn hair. A hitched little sound, needy, escaping in the sliver of space between their mouths, as Zhou Mi's frantic hands clutch Kyuhyun ever-closer against him, against the bathroom wall of their hotel room.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun returns to their room and collapses into bed, flushed pink and drowsily satisfied under Sungmin's curious gaze. Was visiting the other dorm, he says, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back, pulling up his t-shirt just high enough to reveal the pale purple impression on his hip. The heavy-lidded gaze and the bitten red lips that curve into a small secretive smile.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun turns to look at Zhou Mi after every sentence, eyes dancing, seeking confirmation or reassurance. You're speaking in Korean, Sungmin wants to say, as his world threatens to spin off its axis. What are you looking for? And yet Kyuhyun's shoulder presses against Zhou Mi's, his thigh against Zhou Mi's, one unbroken line of contact as he interjects in Chinese and punctuates every sentence with another amused meeting of the eyes.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun's head tilts naturally towards his left, waiting for a private translation in his ear. An expectant pause, a nod of understanding, a shared moment in the midst of hundreds of public appearances. A private world created in the meeting of Zhou Mi's head tilted downwards, words ready on his lips, as Kyuhyun tilts up to receive. A perfect harmony.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun rolls his eyes and makes fun of Zhou Mi, the way he does things now, carefree and self-motivated. Without playing nice, he says what he pleases, but Sungmin watches the DVD and sees the light in Zhou Mi's smile, Kyuhyun's coat warm around his shoulders.
Everything but the way Kyuhyun looks at Zhou Mi when Zhou Mi calls him "Kuixian".
The way Kyuhyun's never looked at Sungmin, because he's not like that. We're not like that.
We're not like that, thinks Sungmin as he backs out of room with a silent lurch of his heart, leaving behind the carelessly half-open bathroom door. He shuts the hotel room door gently and leans his back against it, just a moment, sick with dizziness. The world has thrown him off-kilter, shifting almost literally beneath his feet.
If Kyuhyun is the axis to his planet, Zhou Mi is the sun to Kyuhyun's.
In his mind, Sungmin sees the blinding intensity of Zhou Mi's brightest smile, and aches.
He sees Kyuhyun, revolving around him, gravitating ever closer with or without knowing. Helplessly or willingly succumbing? Sungmin can only guess, but he remembers vividly the imprints of Kyuhyun's fingers in Zhou Mi's hair, the fit of their mouths.
I loved you first, Sungmin thinks as tears sting hot and bitter at his eyes. You gave me everything he couldn't. You gave him everything I wanted.
Zhou Mi's lips against Sungmin's cheek, warm and sweet with sincere affection. Smiling at him like he brightens Zhou Mi's world just by existing. Kyuhyun's thigh against Sungmin's, companionable as they talk long into the night. A rest stop along Kyuhyun's trek into the new world.
We were never like that.
But.
We're not like this.
Sungmin knows better than anyone.