IMB/IBB 2014: Paradise Is a Step Away (But Not Out Of Reach)
Title: Paradise Is a Step Away (But Not Out Of Reach)
Pairing/Focus: Myunggyu/Myungsoo, Sunggyu
Rating: PG-13
Length: 10,050 words
Summary: With rumors of war on the horizon, Myungsoo’s life in the wizarding world might not be going exactly as he planned it to. After an accidental meeting with one Kim Sunggyu (understanding of magic: zero) however, he might just make it through everything with his sanity intact. If he’s lucky.
Note: Very AU. Other members are only mentioned. Lastly but not least, thank you dearest Bee for the beta. <3
One - Myungsoo:
They met on Line 2 when it was snowy out, the evening creeping in all lilac-hued and rimmed with navy. Myungsoo couldn’t tell through the packed bodies, but he figured it was halfway between the stops for Ewha and Konkuk University. Only halfway there and still not nearly enough space for people to continue squeezing onto the train though they did their damndest.
To the outsider the passengers likely looked at least vaguely human, though Myungsoo thought they resembled something from one of the Magical Creatures of Japan textbooks. Some sort of creation that was made up of all arms and legs that didn’t quite belong, and too many heads to count without using half of the fingers of everyone in the car. There were elbows that dug in somewhere between Myungsoo’s fourth and fifth vertebrae and a pole that got up close and bruisingly personal with his hips.
But Myungsoo believed breath had to be in sight as the train slowed, and the tunnel lightened ahead. He knew in his heart that personal space (usually not an issue for him) was no longer a novel idea of the future, but something altogether present and achievable. In the space of one second-two, even!-it would be attained.
…or maybe five seconds.
With the clinical voice of some woman, who likely hadn’t been paid enough, warning them not to push, the door opened at the next stop. Despite the pole-he was close to giving it a name and accepting its courtship, if he could just settle on a name-Myungsoo was turned by the mass that pushed as one to escape the train. His messenger bag shifted between his body and the next (one of indeterminate gender, bundled in a winter coat as soft and thick as if they’d taped pillows around themselves), and slipped sideways so books spilled out onto the subway floor.
At least, he mused, it hadn’t been raining; the snow was bad enough as it was. Myungsoo hugged the pole tightly and refused to give into the current of bodies as the attempt to carry him along. There was a mild horror to his expression as he watched his books become muddied, and one or two attempt the upstream journey. They skipped over the gap between train and platform, carried by firm kicks of booted feet, and he all but gave up on them as he rested his head against the pole.
Myungsoo couldn’t be late, and he couldn’t make it out and back, and so he sighed instead as he closed his eyes and left them to their fate. Later he’d allow himself a moment of sadness, when he didn’t run the risk of the professor berating him or signing him up to take care of the potions ingredients for the rest of the semester. Later, when it wasn’t his first day of class, and he had time to-
“Are these yours?”
--breathe.
Myungsoo turned, squinting at the other figure and hoping he wasn’t the one being addressed. But the lumpy shape in yet another overly-large winter coat was holding out his books towards him, covers bent slightly and covered in tread marks but at least they weren’t lost and-
“There’s ‘Potions: For the Licensed Healer’?”
At least the other man’s voice was soft (high pitched, half amused) as he stepped closer and the doors to the car slid shut with a quiet hiss. Myungsoo tipped his head to the side, his fingers still curled tightly around the pole and his feet braced for the train to start up again. He opened his mouth, his knuckles white.
--breathe.
“‘European Wizarding History: The Dark Ages’?”
Myungsoo’s bag gaped open like a mouth, admitting everything-like his mouth as he stared at the older man. Was he really going to keep reading the titles? Slowly he peeled one hand free from the death grip he had on the pole-it deserved it, after the bruise it had left on his hip-and nodded. Myungsoo let go with the other, and held his hands out for his books. “Yes. Those are-mine.” He agreed, practically jerking them out of the other’s grasp.
Though it was close he didn’t hug them to his body, the dirt all too likely to rub off on his black coat. Myungsoo shoved them into his bag instead, refusing to meet the man’s gaze a second time, though the man flopped into the seat next to the pole with his own bag and an overfull folder of sheet music.
“So, are those real textbooks?” He asked, ignoring the message Myungsoo was shooting like lasers at him with his eyes to put headphones in, or to pull out his phone and play something, to forget the books he’d seen. Anipang, maybe. Or Line Play. He needed to obey subway etiquette and ignore him now that he’d done his good deed for the day. Forget-
Healer clinical exams, winter semester.
“No? Of course not. They’re for a play.” An oddly specific play, that valued authenticity, but he hadn’t looked inside the books now had he?
--breathe.
“They went to the trouble of printing out a textbook, for a play?” The rescuer of his books looked incredulous. Downright skeptical, his eyes narrowed and his tone mocking like he didn’t believe Myungsoo-and Myungsoo was shit at lying so he probably didn’t. But the train was slowing again and Myungsoo held onto the strap of his bag as he nodded emphatically.
“Yes.” He agreed again, stepping back slowly like he expected to be detained. “Yes they did. Dedication to the craft.” There was no doubt now that everything was a lie, and the man outright laughed-he opened his mouth as the train rocked to a halt, and Myungsoo clapped his hands over his ears, though he wasn’t completely impolite. “Thank you,” he blurted, “For rescuing these.”
And before there could be another attempt at conversation he darted out onto the platform. He’d never see him again. He never see him again. There was no reason for Myungsoo to worry.
But he still did through all of The Ministry and You: Policies for Healers.
Two - Myungsoo:
Truth-be-told when the time rolled around for his evening class the next week, Myungsoo had forgotten. There were papers and paperwork, narratives and dates to cram into his memory; the worrying status of the wizarding community, and the artifact currently housed in the basement of the Wizarding History department. But when he looked up to thank whoever had held the door open for him he faltered, mouth gaping yet again in a most unflattering manner before the man sighed and jerked him the rest of the way into the train car muttering something about resemblances to carps and really did he have to save someone every time he rode this train?
“Sunggyu.” He finally offered, once he’d given up muttering and Myungsoo had gotten his mouth to shut. He looked a little less lumpy this time, though his coat looked just as warm as the one before; just more fashionable. And black. “I’m Sunggyu.” He clarified, a slight smile on his face that nearly turned his eyes non-existent. Sunggyu tugged Myungsoo further onto the train, then nudged him to take the first available seat before standing in front of him once he accepted in a daze. “I thought you were never going to ride this line again, after last week.”
…well, that was true enough. Or it had been true for the first few hours after the Books Incident, and then all thoughts of finding an alternate route (a taxi, 26,000 won. Bus; but where do I get off?) had been forgotten. All thoughts of questions he didn’t want to answer had sifted through Myungsoo’s sieve-like mind until they landed beneath everything else and were buried there. They came flooding back now as he reached for his phone-not that it worked, it was a prop-and was stopped by another nudge to his thigh.
“What’s your name?” Sunggyu asked, looking down at him-maybe that’s why he’d had Myungsoo sit, so he could loom-as he hung onto the strap. “It’s only polite.”
That was insulting, of course. Just a bit, maybe, or maybe a lot and Myungsoo leaned against his close friend the pole (he should, he thought, tell Sungyeol about his new best friend). All bruises were forgiven in the light of this new annoyance that seemed to think Myungsoo was some fascinating discovery, and Myungsoo’s voice snapped as he wrinkled his nose. “Kim Myungsoo.” He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, against the metal as he stared at the door opposite him in his best attempt to ignore anything else that might come.
“Is it real?” For a second Myungsoo thought he meant his name and he would really be offended, glancing up unconsciously, but Sunggyu was already clarifying again quickly. “The books I meant.” And then. “Magic?” He looked so genuinely curious, but Myungsoo had seen that before. Twice. He wasn’t going to journey down that path again, not if he could help it and he shrugged noncommittally as his gaze slid away a second time.
You’re sulking. And scared. A voice that sounded rather like Sungyeol’s hissed at him from a dark corner of his mind. He hissed back that he wasn’t, one hand curled around the cold metal comfortably. But he was, and who would want to learn about his world right now as it was? See, scared.
Myungsoo shook the voice off again, shaking his head at the same time as he yawned. “No.” He repeated his lie from the week before, studying the smudgy windows and the flashing signs as the train zipped past, almost too fast to be able to tell which of the stations was coming up next. It was unfair, Myungsoo decided, that Sunggyu had gotten onto the train before him this time around. There’d been no chance of seeing him first and avoiding, though he’d give him the benefit of the doubt that he hadn’t been waiting. “I found them at a bookstore, an old one. You find all sorts of strange things in shops like that.”
And that wasn’t the same lie, though it didn’t cross his mind to try and remember the right one. He still wasn’t going to tell the truth, and Sunggyu was staring at him, lips pursed together tightly. He looked like he was about to nag someone, and for all that Myungsoo knew he might have been.
Don’t lie, you can’t lie. And there was Sungyeol’s voice again, amused and exasperated at the same time, and it reminded him of the look on Sunggyu’s face. Or the look reminded him of Sungyeol’s voice, he couldn’t decide which, but-
“That’s not what you said last time.” Sunggyu huffed, and Myungsoo took a mental break to picture him with his hands on his hips, an apron tied around his waist and a wooden spoon in his hand. Definitely the nagging type, he thought, before the bubble popped with Sunggyu’s voice. “Last time you said it was for a play. I’m not going to laugh.”
But, was that any reassurance that he wouldn’t lock him up? Myungsoo looked up at him darkly, before his expression lightened and he shrugged. “They’re from a used bookstore, I liked the way they smelled.” And for good measure he added, “And, y’know, magic is something out of fairy tales.”
He was parroting words that had been thrown at him. Twice. They tasted bitter in his mouth, like ash, but they were out before Myungsoo could stop them and he winced a little. It was a betrayal almost.
You’re scared. Sungyeol repeated in his mind and Myungsoo pushed his way to his feet with another, more aggravated hiss. Of course I am.
And it could have been out loud, but he didn’t wait to hear any response. He just spat out, “I don’t know why you’re willing to believe in any of this; the magic, that it’s all true,” before sulking off of the train.
It was the wrong stop, but the train was leaving and it was too late now. Policy was boring anyhow.
Three - Sunggyu:
Sunggyu didn’t expect Myungsoo to come back after the last time; the subway car’s doors had shut with a finality that had almost seemed intentional, though Myungsoo had no control over how fast or slow they shut. Well, Sunggyu had assumed so until his question had taken root, and then he had to wonder how true that was. Because if magic was real-then who was to say that he couldn’t simply magic the doors shut faster. It was a mundane enough use for some sort of awesome power (or so he assumed), and that was getting off the subject.
But he couldn’t help it. The textbooks had been too real to be a prank, and he’d found himself thinking about them-and their owner-and leaving sheets of composition paper blank. Like the musical notes had wandered off of the sheets to ink the lines of his thoughts instead. It was aggravating to say the least, and what little he’d written seemed stilted and jolting, not like his usual composition. His teachers were bound to notice, and he found himself looking for the cause of his mental block each time he rode the train.
It wasn’t until a week later like clockwork that Myungsoo slid into Sunggyu’s life again like a strangely adorable, little black raincloud. Though he looked less sulky for once, and more like he would fall asleep in the next minute if the train didn’t rock so hard; he was clinging to the pole as usual, like it was the only thing holding him up, and when his forehead connected with it Sunggyu thought that the guess was more than accurate. All in black yet again, he was paler than usual, and his glance wasn’t one of horror as he cracked on eye open and spotted Sunggyu.
It was on the tip of Sunggyu’s tongue to apologize for last time-for all of his questions-but Myungsoo beat him to the punch. He slipped softly into conversation like he hadn’t walked off in a huff the last time, or fed Sunggyu a bunch of lies that even a child could have picked up right off the bat. Sunggyu got the impression though that nothing much stuck in Myungsoo’s mind for too long if he didn’t feel he needed it, and generally Sunggyu’s impressions were right. Maybe this was just another of those instances
“Yes.” Myungsoo mumbled at him, like he was tripping over his own tongue and wanted to swallow his words. “You were right, last time.” For all his reluctance it seemed to be more due to fatigue than because another lie would be so much simpler. He swayed again and his head hit the pole with a dull thunk that had Sunggyu wincing though he hardly reacted to it. Myungsoo just wobbled again as Sunggyu stepped closer, into the other’s personal space though he didn’t seem to care about that either. “Magic is real.”
And there was fear in dark eyes as Myungsoo studied him with an almost expectant expression on his face. He was waiting for something, something unwelcome and cruel no doubt, like the classmate who’d first told Sunggyu that most idol groups didn’t sing live. Only, what Myungsoo was waiting for was likely far more hurtful and he’d probably heard it more than once.
But no more than twice.
Even now his voice was low, almost too low to be heard, and Sunggyu had to shift closer to make out what he said. This way he supposed no one else could hear, and the only one he had to worry about was Sunggyu making fun of him. “The books gave it away.” Sunggyu replied instead, grabbing the pole above Myungsoo’s hand as his head dipped forward again. This time instead of cold metal it hit warm flesh, and Sunggyu nearly shivered at the cool brush of Myungsoo’s forehead, the chill that seemed to cling to his hair. “They were written too accurately to be just made up; they were written like my textbooks.”
Different subjects of course, but the same style; factual and informative and too specific to be for a prop; definitely not meant to be supplemental to some fictional series. “I couldn’t exactly-I couldn’t just tell you. I mean, Sungyeol would say I was stupid, since you didn’t believe me anyhow, but-” Myungsoo trailed off and Sunggyu wanted to wrap his arms around him even if he was still little more than a stranger, albeit a stranger who was spilling all of his truths to Sunggyu. He just seemed exhausted and cold and like he needed warmth. And there was something puppyish to him that made Sunggyu want to protect him.
“It’s alright.” He countered with a smile, one that it looked like Myungsoo might have returned if he could have mustered the strength. As it was it was the barest twitch of the corner of his lips, and a little of that fear receding further into the darkness. “You’re telling me now, so it worked out in the end.” For him anyhow, though it seemed like it worked out for Myungsoo as well. Sunggyu wasn’t laughing at him, and somehow he was keeping his curiosity at bay though the questions piling up could fill sheet after sheet of his composition paper.
Had, indeed, filled a composition paper back at the apartment he shared with Dongwoo, though he had made sure to keep them hidden. But Myungsoo was still speaking and Sunggyu didn’t really have time for questions today.
“I go to school. For healing-medical.” The latter sounded strange come from Myungsoo, like he was unsure of the term, and he corrected himself after a moment. “Nursing?”
Sunggyu would have liked to say that, that path fit Myungsoo, but he didn’t really know him. Couldn’t say for sure if it did, though it seemed right from the textbooks he carried with him. Fit too with the smile that actually managed to flit over thin lips and Sunggyu felt obligated to return. He shifted just a step closer, further into Myungsoo’s space as if he could share his warmth. He smiled wider before he tapped the other’s shoulder. “Tell me more?”
He could hope that Myungsoo would accept, and if he didn’t… there was always next time, then. And then the time after that. Like the old American movie said, it seemed like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Four - Sunggyu:
Sunggyu was dressed for spring the next time he saw Myungsoo, relieved to see that he’d waited for him as promised though he seemed to be doing his best not to laugh at the redness Sunggyu’s nose. It wasn’t spring yet, not quite, and the flush to his cheeks only further illustrated the fact if the steam rising from the gyeranbang and coffees hadn’t been enough.
He tried not to notice the way that Myungsoo’s hands shook as he folded the newspaper he’d been reading in half and tucked it under his arm, or the way they still shook as he reached to take one of the coffees from Sunggyu’s outstretched hand. There was a new sort of fear in his eyes, different from the fear that he’d seen in them the night he’d made his first confession-two weeks ago now? Perhaps three? No, four. A month. Point was it was a different sort of fear and he let go of the coffee and watched the way Myungsoo’s long, delicate fingers curled around it like it was an anchor. The only thing keeping him grounded, or from spiraling into that fear.
It was the same way he’d held tightly to Sunggyu’s hand only a night or two before when they’d been to the movies and the screen had been filled with explosions, loud and bright-only he didn’t let go of the coffee, like he had the other’s hand. He hid behind the steam instead, sipping the bitter cup as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Sunggyu should have added sugar, he supposed, but it wasn’t at the center of his attention. Not like the newspaper headline that Myungsoo’s arm didn’t quite manage to hide like he’d probably meant it to. Sunggyu took a quick breath, and Myungsoo shifted again.
“Thank you-” Myungsoo said.
And Sunggyu interrupted. “What’s wrong-”
They’d started at the same time, and both paused awkwardly before Myungsoo took another quick sip, the heat clearly scalding his tongue if the surprised jerk back was anything to go by. “Nothing’s-nothing’s wrong.” He replied past the steam, letting it fog his glasses as he turned away to watch the empty tracks. Sunggyu held out gyeranbang and Myungsoo took it without looking though Sunggyu had grown accustomed to that; the awkward turns Myungsoo’s attitude could take, especially when he felt cornered by something.
Like questions.
Ministry Under Attack: Lax Security.
“Your paper says otherwise.” Sunggyu didn’t make it accusatory, though it was always hit or miss whether Myungsoo would take it that way. He tugged on the paper, with no intention to take it away, and Myungsoo practically flinched back from him, his grip tightening on his snack and nearly smashing it before he managed to loosen his grasp and make his reaction seem more ordinary. “Is something going on? You can talk to me about things, you know.” Or he hoped that he did, though he really didn’t know what to expect. It was still new, despite the fact that Myungsoo had accepted him as a friend. Myungsoo had found himself willing to tell Sunggyu the truth about magic and any number of things.
Sunggyu had opened up in the same way, though his secrets weren’t quite as impressive. His secrets definitely didn’t involve security breaches and leaked information, and Myungsoo’s fingers were shaking again as he folded the paper even smaller and shoved it in the bag, talking through a mouthful of egg and bread that threatened to spray out. And Sunggyu let himself be distracted, because behind the fear there was the stubbornness he’d come to expect from his friend as well. The look that said he wouldn’t talk, not unless he was forced to, and that it was better to wait him out if he could because eventually it’d spill from his lips.
“It’s not as scary as it sounds, you now how journalists are.” And it wasn’t a lie, because Sunggyu knew Sungjong could make the smallest story into a mountain given enough time, paper and ink. And he was still in school. The journalists who’d been in the business for years could no doubt write War and Peace out of a project to fix potholes before they got bigger over the winter. So he swallowed the lie, as Myungsoo took another bite entirely too large though he didn’t seem to care.
It made his cheeks puff out adorably, and Dongwoo would have been pinching them as he talked about how precious Myungsoo was. It was a good thing he wasn’t around, as Myungsoo attempted a smile. “I’ll tell you if it gets bad, hyung.” And Sunggyu had to believe him, because there wasn’t a reason not to just yet though he couldn’t forget the finger-crushing grip the younger had his hand in at the movies.
What, exactly, did ‘gets bad’ even mean. How bad did it have to get before Myungsoo would be willing to talk?
“I believe you.” Sunggyu replied around his own mouthful of bread and egg, a smile on his lips as he watched the headlights on the walls of the tunnel, announcing the upcoming train as well as any noise could. “Now, what are your plans this weekend? Because Dongwoo was thinking kalguksu and noraebang if you wanted to invite Woohyun, Hoya and Sungyeol.”
The relief that passed through Myungsoo was practically visible, like a weight lifted off of his shoulders, and the grin this time was bright and genuine as he leaned against Sunggyu’s side affectionately, his breath smelling of the strong coffee. “Or, how about chicken and beer instead?” He asked, and with his warm breath so close Sunggyu couldn’t help but shiver and give in.
“Chicken and beer.” He agreed, “Dongwoo will somehow, someway, manage to survive.” Sunggyu paused and then nudged Myungsoo. “Race you to the first open seat?”
Five - Myungsoo:
Myungsoo knew he probably looked a haggard, awful mess, but given that was how he felt he didn’t try and correct it. No amount of bb cream, even if applied with a trowel, would alter the way he looked, or lighten the dark circles traced by fear’s cold, bruising fingers underneath his eyes. At least he matched his clothing for once, though he didn’t look nearly as put together as he usually did. He seemed out of place for once, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around them. Myungsoo didn’t so much as move or twitch when others passed by, and when he felt Sunggyu’s familiar, spring-warm presence he slid to the side until he was curled into t-shirt warmed by the older man’s flesh, body shaking minutely.
“I’m scared, hyung.” He whispered into the soft cotton, and he knew he’d taken longer to admit this than he should have ever taken. If he’d been Sunggyu he would have grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him until his teeth rattled and the rocking motion had knocked the words loose. More than once he’d grabbed his own shoulders in between classes or just standing in a hallway out of the way and shook himself, though the words hadn’t formed until now. Here. Sitting in a dingy, dimly lit subway station after the train had come and gone. And come and gone again. The bench beneath them was uncomfortable and the wall behind them dirty, but neither seemed to care as Sunggyu breathed in, then out, a calming, steady rhythm. Myungsoo’s voice was unsteady, words uncertain and in line with how he felt. “They say it’s war.”
Though not war like Sunggyu’s world was used to, like what he talked about when he mentioned history to Myungsoo. This was a war that threatened the light with an all-encompassing cloak of black. It was a blackness that inched from the earth itself and corrupted what was good with its miasma of blood and dirt; magics that could go wrong and the threat of a new world if the scales of balance were tipped too far towards the side that sprang from some ancient era.
He didn’t expect an immediate answer and he didn’t get one, either. Just Sunggyu’s steady breathing, though the hitch in his heartbeat was indication enough that he’d heard Myungsoo and was scared too. But it was easy to ignore that hitch and that steady beat because his face was calm and gentle, and his arm around Myungsoo careful and sure at the same time. And though it was nothing like a shield charm and it couldn’t truly protect if something happened, it felt as strong as one to Myungsoo’s fragile sense of security.
“You’ll be alright, though, won’t you?” Sunggyu asked before the silence could stretch on for too long and break, worn to thin. Just before Myungsoo could pull away, feeling his admission was unwanted and unneeded, and Sunggyu didn’t care anymore. That he’d only asked the first time, if anything was wrong, because he’d felt obligated to. He breathed out raggedly against cotton and skin, just barely controlling the urge to grip the t-shirt in tight hands and refuse to let go.
“I think so?” He answered, and the words were as uncertain as everything else. Spoken quietly against Sunggyu’s skin, like it’d make them more or less real if he didn’t say them to his hyung’s face. “Y-yes? I’m in a healer’s university-they won’t make us fight.” The reassurance was for himself as much as it was for Sunggyu who had a tense line thrumming through his muscles, though his arm around Myungsoo didn’t tighten any. Myungsoo rubbed his own arm lightly, finally pulling back but only slightly to look Sunggyu in the face. “There have to be people who can fix what’s broken.”
Even though he didn’t like to think about that; it was that pain that sometimes had him questioning his choice of path. Until he could help with a birth, or ease the pain of a man who’d faced so much in his life; empathy, Sunggyu had called it. Empathy, and he traced the syllables into Myungsoo’s palm, making him shiver. He wasn’t shivering now, though, as Sunggyu tugged him close again with a quick jerk.
“If you need to-if it gets too dangerous.” And now Sunggyu was forcing out words, when that was usually Myungsoo’s role. To swallow and rewrite and spit out the words that wouldn’t come. “Come and stay with your hyungs, alright?” He sounded like he wanted to make the words an order and couldn’t at the same time; because Myungsoo couldn’t just listen to orders.
He had to make his own choice; he had to make it himself. He couldn’t just listen and do as told, and in doing so leave his classmates…
But he was getting ahead of himself, wasn’t he.
“Of course, I’d offer the same but…” The laughter that escaped was half broken sounding, but it was still laughter as he offered a crooked smile to Sunggyu-the only thing he could. “It’s not really a good time for tourists.” It was making light of the situation, but it helped the band around his chest to listen at least a centimeter; again, all that he could manage, and all that he was capable of.
Myungsoo couldn’t even carry the conversation further, pulling away again as Sunggyu, wiped at his eyes briskly. Like the dust were the problem, and not the tears as he laughed; a little breathless and a little half broken as well. “Or how about this; how about you invite me when things are better, then.” He countered, before Myungsoo tugged him to his feet and jerked his chin at the oncoming train.
“Or how about, when it’s get quieter, I invite you to dinner instead.” And, for now, that was all he wanted to promise. Sunggyu seemed to think about it before he shrugged, just one shoulder.
“Deal.”
Six - Myungsoo:
The next time they met it was like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t melted down in front of Sunggyu (or close to it), and Sunggyu hadn’t made offers that Myungsoo so desperately wanted to take him up on. It was a relief, and almost like he’d never said anything. There was nothing but smiles and laughter, and good-natured shoving.
Though, that could have been because of the rain. The almost torrential downpour that had soaked both them and their belongings alike, with water dripped from jackets, shirts and hair. It dripped steadily from the edges of Sunggyu’s portfolio, and the folds of Myungsoo’s backpack. The floor of the empty subway car was a hazard now, and soggy papers-still legible-were spread out over every empty seat in an attempt to dry them out.
“You really look like a wet dog.” Sunggyu rambled as he flopped into one of the seats and dragged Myungsoo down beside him, as was becoming his habit now. “One that decided to play in a puddle, even though he knew he shouldn’t.” Only there was no mud, and Myungsoo had been trying to stay dry, but he didn’t point that out as he shook his head so that water sprayed out, not stopping until Sunggyu grabbed him and held him still, pulling him to sit back. “And you act like one too.”
“That was the point, hyung.” Myungsoo retorted with a sly grin. “If you’re going to make comparisons, I have to act on them, don’t I?” He knew he was being a brat, but he couldn’t stop himself as he drew his knees up to his chest, feet pressed to the edge of the seat. They were making enough of a mess with their damp clothing already that it hardly seemed to matter if they made a bit more with their feet.
He didn’t move then, not even as Sunggyu slipped the other half of his headphones into Myungsoo’s ear. If he didn’t move, maybe his clothes would dry faster. Maybe he’d get warm enough that his hair would dry without getting too curly. And maybe that was wishful thinking, because no matter what he was well on the path to looking like an ahjumma on her way home with a brand new perm. He let himself relax instead as Sunggyu tugged at his hair, pulling it from root to tip and drawing the water out of it slowly.
“Are you like this with everyone?” He teased Myungsoo, his voice quiet, though still audible over the music in the earbuds. The motion of his fingers was soothing and Myungsoo leaned back further, nearly trapping Sunggyu’s arm behind him so he couldn’t pull it away. “Or do you do this just to annoy your hyung.”
For all that he was complaining, he still didn’t seem to mind, and he didn’t pull away either as the music switched to something that sounded like one of Sunggyu’s own compositions. “I mean, you just got your homework even wetter.” And while that was true…
Myungsoo also didn’t care about that.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The sly grin grew, though it had a sleepy note to it as Sunggyu brushed a hand over his hair. He patted it, almost, like it’d help it to dry faster. Myungsoo wanted to curl against Sunggyu’s side except that that would take too much effort, and they still had eight stops to go. The train rocked beneath them, and the lights flickered through the windows from the walls of the tunnel. “Maybe I do it to everyone, hyung isn’t that special really.”
But Myungsoo was lying through his teeth, and Sunggyu swatted at him before his hand resumed its soothing ministrations.
“Liar.” Sunggyu mused, lips curved into a smile as he rested his own head back against the window. And he sounded like he was going to continue but didn’t, as Myungsoo wished that days like this would come more often. Days just like this, the only thing they had to worry about being the rain and their homework as they shared earbuds and whatever came on the music player.
Myungsoo could have slept like that, and almost did. His eyes closed as he lost himself in the steady sound of Sunggyu’s breathing beside him, and the way he drew his fingers through Myungsoo’s hair. And Myungsoo would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the whoosh of the car’s doors as the slid open at the next station and let in a crowd of bedraggled ahjummas, as wet as Sunggyu and Myungsoo had been.
“Uh-oh,” he hissed, sitting up straight with a start as Sunggyu sat up beside him. “Our homework!” He added, and they scrambled up and to their feet, gathering papers and shoving them at the speed of light-mindless of ownership and condition-into bags and portfolios just praying that nothing ripped. By the time they had them all stowed away they were left breathless and seat-less in the middle of the subway car as the ahjummas stared at them. Judging them.
Sunggyu started to laugh first, almost silently, and Myungsoo followed after much more loudly though he tried to muffle it in his elbow. His grin threatened to split his face in two.
He could use more days like this, but that was probably all wishful thinking. Days like this… felt like they would come few and far between. But for now, maybe it could be enough. For now all he wanted to see was the pure, unstoppable happiness that could come from life. It didn’t matter that he and Sunggyu were as wet as could be and probably smelled worse than a wet dog, because with Sunggyu’s warm breath against his throat he could forget just about anything.
Seven - Sunggyu:
They decided not to ride the train, but only because Sunggyu didn’t want to have to leave Myungsoo alone when they reached one of their stops, whosever came first. He didn’t want to part ways when the younger man was covered in burns, bruises, and half healed scars. And Myungsoo’s voice would not hold steady, dropping in and out as Sunggyu tugged him back to his apartment and pushed him onto the couch, searching for the blanket that Dongwoo’s mother had made because ‘you never know when you’re going to need an extra one. College boys, you’ve always got someone over.’
“Just stay there,” Sunggyu insisted, “and I’ll get you something hot to drink.” Right now the younger probably wanted soju more than anything, but Sunggyu knew better than to offer it as he took the three steps needed to step into the kitchen alcove and turn the electric kettle on with a hiss. They didn’t need the heightened emotional state that would come with it, or any sort of drunken stupor. It was bad enough that he couldn’t stop shaking from the late April chill, even underneath the folds of the heavy blanket that Sunggyu had wrapped around him.
“I can’t stay long,” Myungsoo croaked, sounding like he’d inhaled something he shouldn’t, and his voice was muffled by the blanket. Just his nose and eyes were visible from inside the cocoon it looked like he’d made himself. On any other day Sunggyu would have been reaching for his phone to take a picture (for blackmail purposes), but today he was just relieved that it covered the bandages and the splint around his fingers. It made him look smaller than he was, like a kid almost, and Sunggyu willed the kettle to heat faster than it already did to begin with. “I have to get back, they’re not giving us a choice anymore.”
Sunggyu thought of asking who ‘they’ were, but didn’t. He thought about asking why they didn’t have a choice, but in the end… he didn’t ask that either. He nodded quietly instead, pulling a somewhat battered mug down out of the cupboard. It clattered as he set it on the counter and turned back to Myungsoo. “You have a place to stay, if you ever need that. Remember?” Like either of them could forget, but Sunggyu wanted to make it clear-to remind him of the offer. It needed saying before he wound up with no place to go because somehow it didn’t cross his mind that he had someone who would move the world for him.
“I don’t want it to get to where it’s too late. I can’t think about what happens if you can’t even choose that option.” He added as the kettle clicked again, finished heating at last. Sunggyu turned away to search almost empty cupboards for tea, the sound of cupboard doors closing almost drowning out Myungsoo though he stopped his search at the quiet voice from the couch. He gripped the handle and didn’t turn in case he stopped talking when forced to speak face to face with Sunggyu. Confrontation or anything that could be seen as such had never gone well with Myungsoo, Sunggyu had learned. It was better to do this- to wait him out until the words came, no matter how soft or slow. Inevitably he’d always give in.
Myungsoo got to his feet, stumbled a few steps, and took a seat at the counter before he flopped down half over it. “I can’t choose that though, hyung.” His words were directed more at the countertop than at Sunggyu it seemed, but Sunggyu listened well, his forehead pressed to the cupboard in front of him. He didn’t move because he didn’t want to scare Myungsoo away, it was almost like trying to talk to a startled, frightened, motionless rabbit that didn’t want know which way to run, but no matter where he wouldn’t find safety. “Not until I have no other choice, it’s giving up on my friends. Even if we didn’t ask for any of this.”
And Sunggyu didn’t have to ask what ‘this’ was, because that he knew. From the articles Myungsoo had finally let him read, and from the stories that he had finally told.
This was the nameless evil that had slid up from the very ground they walked on, corrupting and cloaking.
This was something he couldn’t imagine, not truly, not even if he tried.
He had to nod then quietly, pulling the next cupboard open, finally forced into motion. “It still stands, though. If you need a place-if your friends need a place-we don’t mind if you find it here.” Even if it invited the danger to them they wouldn’t mind, because it was better to face trials together than to face them alone-though Myungsoo wasn’t exactly doing that, either. Not with the widespread nature of the problem. Not with the whole of their society facing it.
But to Sunggyu it still felt like he was facing it alone. Finally found he dropped the tea into the cup and poured the hot water over it, the steam billowing up to warm his face. He felt colder than he had before, and almost didn’t want to let go of the cup as he set it in front of Myungsoo. “Here,” he whispered. “Drink this.” And then “You don’t have to make a decision today.”
But somehow he knew that Myungsoo’s decision had already been made. That no matter what he said, it wouldn’t matter. It had been Myungsoo’s decision to begin with, and all he could do was offer advice, even if it wasn’t taken. Sunggyu would have to hope that it’d work out in the end and they’d meet again for the rest of their lives. They had all the time in the world, he had to believe it.
Eight - Myungsoo:
For once Myungsoo felt a braveness that wasn’t actually there. There was a glimmer of it, a spark, but it was enough that he could fan it into something bigger and more like what courage ought to be. From a little flicker to a flame, and then into a fire; at least that was what he told himself as he sat beside Sunggyu, though he couldn’t look him in the eye.
He looked instead at the floor and their feet propped close together: worn converse and sneakers.
He looked at the advertisements above the seats opposite theirs: an idol group advertising an energy drink.
And he stared at his fingernails: too short, too ragged, but at least they were clean.
Anywhere that wasn’t his hyung. Anywhere he could look that he wouldn’t have to see the hurt that he could already imagine all too well. Myungsoo didn’t need an accurate, in person representation of the look that he didn’t want to have to witness. He didn’t want to be the cause of it, though it was unavoidable. He’d still know the truth, even if he covered his eyes and ears and sang underneath his breath.
But Myungsoo wasn’t singing as he stared at the shopping bag someone had left on the seat across and forgot about, or left on purpose. There didn’t seem to be anyone who would claim ownership of it anyhow, at least not on this train.
“I don’t know if I’ll be back anytime soon.” Myungsoo admitted, the words for once slipping from his mouth with ease. It was all false bravery that he clung to like a life raft with all his strength, because he couldn’t let it go and slide back into fear though he could feel as it lapped like waves at his feet. “I thought maybe I could avoid it, but I was-” He shrugged far more nonchalantly than the subject deserved, the only action betraying Myungsoo’s nerves the quick motion of his fingers as he picked at his cuticles and his eyes as they darted over dirty marks left on the floor. “Wrong. I was wrong.”
The words were out now at least, and he sunk low in his seat as if he’d lost all that had held him up before. Sunggyu didn’t laugh (though by now he wouldn’t), and he didn’t push Myungsoo away, either (quite the opposite, really). He slid his hand into Myungsoo’s instead, held tight as if he expected Myungsoo to try and escape like he had so often in the earlier days of their friendship.
He didn’t say anything though either, and Myungsoo scrunched his eyes shut as he waited for whatever response would eventually come. Would it be an explosion of hurt, or would he tell Myungsoo to leave and never come back? He wanted to tell his hyung to hurry up and get it over with, but Sunggyu was ahead of him as his lips touched Myungsoo’s ear, his breath warm like his hand.
“You will come back, though, right?” He asked, like the answer was already a given as Myungsoo swallowed harshly. It sounded loud in his own ears as he tugged at the cuticle on his thumb, staring at the half-moon shape above it. Pale, next to the rest of the nail, and none of that was important. Sunggyu tugged his hand away, keeping hold of the other still, his tone insistent but never loud as he laced their fingers together. “This isn’t a goodbye where you don’t come back this is just like a hiatus.”
He sounded certain of it, but at the same time not at all. “I’m not going to have to make a fansite about how I need my bias back. Right?”
And this was why Myungsoo liked this hyung. Without making Myungsoo feel stupid he could lighten the situation at least a little. He made it easier to bear, though Myungsoo still couldn’t meet his eyes or even look him in the face. He looked at their hands instead, resting entwined on top of their too-closely pressed together thighs, pale skin next to pale skin. “I don’t-” He stared some more, trying to remember how to breath, “I might-”
“You will.” Sunggyu supplied for him easily, though there was a strained sound to his hyung’s voice as well, like the words couldn’t come easy for him either. But his lips were still against Myungsoo’s ear, and his breathing was steady as he rubbed his thumb over the bones in Myungsoo’s fingers. “You don’t know when, but you’ll be back, right? Promise; right?”
Myungsoo didn’t want to make his hyung beg, not like this. Didn’t want to hurt the man he’d come to respect, to like, to lo- he didn’t want to hurt him more. He smiled at least, looking out of the corners of his eyes at Sunggyu, finally seeing the desperate expression on his face as he gripped Myungsoo’s hand hard enough that the bones felt like they were creaking.
At least the other passengers had disappeared now, trickling out at each stop. The car was silent and the hour was late, and Myungsoo’s voice broke the silence like a shattering mirror as he turned to face Sunggyu fully. He watched as the desperation smoothed away into something happier.
“I really don’t want to see what kind of fansite you’d come up with, hyung, I really don’t.” He nudged his hyung with his knee, lips crooked as he pulled his hand free. “It’d probably be horrible colors that I can’t stand-you don’t know the importance of black, hyung-and filled with sappy lyrics.” The smile slid slightly, showing what was behind the easy mask as Myungsoo leaned closer to Sunggyu. “I’ll be back though, hyung.” The next words were harder. “Promise.”
His lips as he pressed them to Sunggyu’s were warm, as warm as the other’s hand had been, and then he was rocketing to his feet to grab his book bag and escape the train car. Nevermind the fact that it was the wrong stop (it happened often enough), and that he hadn’t said goodbye (he’d be back, so why should he?). Myungsoo only caught one glimpse of the shocked half-smile before the doors slid shut, and the hand held out towards him as if to demand his promise all over again.
Nine - Sunggyu:
The empty space beside Sunggyu bothered him, though he was taking a page from Myungsoo’s book and doing his best to ignore it. There was warmth missing that he hadn’t realized he relied on so much until now, when it wasn’t… here. Though truthfully the space wasn’t truly empty, so much as it was empty metaphorically.
After all, if there was an empty space on the subway train, someone was bound to take it sooner or later. Even if that someone wasn’t the one that Sunggyu had grown to expect.
Even if they weren’t that particular someone who’d left him with a kiss and little else other than a stack of sheet music that was still wrinkled and warped from the rain. Little else other than worries that he wouldn’t come back, because a promise was just words and in the face of death…
What were words, in the end?
“Don’t think like that.” Sunggyu whispered to himself, scrubbing his hands through his hair in frustration, only stopping to halt the downward path said sheet music was taking, down his sloped legs towards the floor.
Where they’d no doubt be trampled.
“Don’t think like that, he said he’s coming back.” He tried not to think of the books he’d rescued that fateful day back in the winter. Or the weeks that had passed since their first kiss.
And yet Sunggyu couldn’t help but wonder if Myungsoo was okay, wherever he was. It was useless to try and find him because he didn’t even know where to start, and he wished he’d asked more questions while he’d had the chance. Before Myungsoo’s lips had met his and silenced his thoughts, other than that he needed that promise. It was the only thing in the world that he needed, other than those lips against his a second time.
He needed to know that Myungsoo would come back to him.
The thought that he might not crossed Sunggyu’s thoughts more than once, and had more than just this day. It’d hit him at the least expected moments that he might not, and then Dongwoo would have to talk him back out of it, or at least distract him in any way that he could; dinners and noraebang, or asking to hear his latest composition. Dragging him out to walk through the park near their apartment, or forcing him to meet up with university friends with cheerfulness that only Dongwoo could manage and no one else dared try or else they’d risk being swatted at and chased out of the room.
“He promised.” Though logic told him again that words were just words, they still brought him the most comfort. And what made it easier still was the teasing way they’d parted, the reassurance that he’d be back to stop Sunggyu from creating any sort of technological, online shrine in his memory. It was better than promising a real shrine, because he couldn’t take the thought and didn’t let it even sink in except at night when the dark closed in and he couldn’t seem to get away from it no matter how much he twisted and turned until Dongwoo in the next room over shouted at him to lay still and stop thinking.
As if he was thinking loud enough for the other man to hear.
Maybe he wasn’t-maybe he was just talking loud enough.
“He’ll keep his promise…” He whispered, though by now his seatmate had moved away, further down the car, still eying him occasionally so that Sunggyu couldn’t do anything but nod awkwardly back and feel relief when he got off at the next stop. Sunggyu sunk lower in his seat, remembering the ungainly way Myungsoo would fold his lanky body practically in half as he sat, like it made the seats more comfortable for him. Maybe it had, or maybe he was just so used to trying to go unnoticed that it had seemed natural.
Sunggyu hoped that he was going unnoticed now, too. That he was safe, and everything had just been a giant scare. Soon he’d be back to sitting beside Sunggyu on the train, joking as they tried not to miss their stop though half the time they were laughing so hard that they did. The memories seemed like only yesterday, and when he felt the panic that Myungsoo must have felt start to creep in he just tried to remember something else instead. Like Myungsoo’s wardrobe that seemed to hold nothing but black, and the occasional dark blue.
“He’ll-” He started, and a soft, wrinkled hand patted his own softly and he turned to look at the old woman who’d sat beside him and he hadn’t even noticed. She was smiling, as she closed her hand over his wrist, her thumb brushing his skin lightly.
“Be back.” She finished for him, smiling brighter. “Because he promised.”
Sunggyu nodded slowly, straightening in his seat as he felt a sense of- peace, almost. It washed over him, cooling and merciful as she let go.
“He promised.” Sunggyu agreed, smiling back at her, and when he opened his eyes she was gone. The train doors whooshed shut, but when he turned to look she was already out of sight. Sunggyu tilted his head to the side, then settled for shaking it briefly before he shifted back around. Old women certainly were moving faster nowadays, weren’t they?
Ten - Myungsoo:
Myungsoo came back during a heavy June rain, the warmth like a blanket weighted down by the dampness in the air. He knew his hair was like the worn bristles on a broom, jutting in all directions, but patting it with his hands did little to smooth it back down into anything resembling order-and somehow it was fitting that it wouldn’t behave. If nothing else in his life would go the way he wanted it to, then why should his hair pay any more attention? He patted it once more, then left it be, his hands dropped to his sides as he stepped onto the subway platform.
For a moment he stood absolutely still, just closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, and when he opened them again he let it out explosively. Stared at the back of a familiar head, dipped downwards as it bobbed to whatever music was playing in his headphones. It only took one step-two-then three and he was standing behind Sunggyu on the near empty platform. Another breath and he leaned against his shorter hyung, his arms around him from behind and his cheek pressed against warm hair.
“I’m late, hyung.” He whispered, stirring the hair against his lips with each word, each breath as Sunggyu stiffened in his arms and tugged earbuds free of his ears. Sunggyu felt the same as he had before, to Myungsoo, and it made him all the more aware of how he himself was skinnier now. How he was all sharp angles and edges with little else in between. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- I meant to come back earlier.”
Sooner than a month, or the month and a half that it seemed to have taken. And to know that others would still be gone for months to come while he was here, and he was late-
“Things didn’t work out though- things didn’t work out at all-” And Myungsoo was babbling, words tumbling over his tongue and teeth altogether too quickly, but he couldn’t help that either as he inhaled the familiar scent of bitter coffee and cigarettes; of the ink that he knew dotted Sunggyu’s hands as they wrapped around his and pried Myungsoo’s arms open.
Then he had to face that accepting expression on an even more familiar face, and the warm hands that first caught his own again, and then let go to touch and trace his face, smoothing over new scars and the bow of his lips. There was worry, but also a smile on Sunggyu’s lips, relief on his face. Myungsoo couldn’t stop the soft, sob of relief that escaped him before Sunggyu’s hand was in his, yanking him from the platform and up the escalator faster than Myungsoo could protest the action.
“I don’t care.” The words floated back to Myungsoo like a blessing, shared through warm fingertips pressed to the skin on the inside of his wrist. “Never would be worse, unforgiveable. If you never stopped behind me again to remind me that I’m shorter, or that I stink like an ashtray.”
Another apology was resting on Myungsoo’s tongue, ready to slide off of it, but he chewed it back and swallowed instead. Found new words and let them trip out past numb lips as they stepped from the cover of the escalator shelter and back out into the rain, though neither of them seemed to care about it. Not even as they headed for past the bus stop.
“You do, but I like it.” He replied, watching the way the muscles in Sunggyu’s shoulders shifted under a shirt that became wetter with each passing second. A bus slowed down, then sped right back up again as if to say it refused such bedraggled and damp looking passengers. “You do, but I’ve missed it.” There’d been so much left unsaid, though now it didn’t matter, and his heart sunk low in his belly anew even as his hand tightened and picked up his pace to walk beside Sunggyu on the uneven sidewalk, mindless of the puddles that soaked his shoes. “Does-do you still want another roommate, hyung?”
It was easier to ask that, even with as much weight as it carried, than to say whatever else lay heavy on his mind; weighted his emotions like too much baggage. Sunggyu stopped so abruptly that he yanked Myungsoo to a stop and jerked his arm, and then he tugged the younger under the shelter of a nearby bus stop. “I thought-” He started and then paused to shake his head. “Didn’t you say that you needed to be in your world, no matter how much you liked mine?” Sunggyu asked, and Myungsoo had to shake the next words out from where they’d stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“I did, at one point,” his voice was a cracked whisper and he couldn’t even clear his throat, though he brought his free hand up to it as if it could help. “But now I don’t.” Myungsoo’s fingers itched as he tightened his grip again, and Sunggyu to his credit didn’t even wince. “It’s not my world anymore.”
And those who had kept him there were now the ones who had forced him out in desperation. Separated from him as cleanly as the spell had from- “I don’t have magic anymore.” It was the first he’d had to speak those words himself and his eyes burned as he blinked into the rain, wished they were still out in it so he could feel it on his face instead of the tears that were sure to come.
He didn’t want to talk about it though; didn’t want to go further than that. And like those fingertips and words earlier it was a blessing when gentle lips brushed over his jaw, then pressed to the corner of his mouth. Thumbs pushed against the curve of his hipbones and fingers hooked through belt loops before he met Sunggyu’s eyes and swallowed back the sob that wanted to escape a second time. Because Sunggyu’s next words were like a temporary fix, a field dressing to help in the healing until he could manage something better and the full story could come tumbling out.
“A second roommate would be nice.”
Pairing/Focus: Myunggyu/Myungsoo, Sunggyu
Rating: PG-13
Length: 10,050 words
Summary: With rumors of war on the horizon, Myungsoo’s life in the wizarding world might not be going exactly as he planned it to. After an accidental meeting with one Kim Sunggyu (understanding of magic: zero) however, he might just make it through everything with his sanity intact. If he’s lucky.
Note: Very AU. Other members are only mentioned. Lastly but not least, thank you dearest Bee for the beta. <3
One - Myungsoo:
They met on Line 2 when it was snowy out, the evening creeping in all lilac-hued and rimmed with navy. Myungsoo couldn’t tell through the packed bodies, but he figured it was halfway between the stops for Ewha and Konkuk University. Only halfway there and still not nearly enough space for people to continue squeezing onto the train though they did their damndest.
To the outsider the passengers likely looked at least vaguely human, though Myungsoo thought they resembled something from one of the Magical Creatures of Japan textbooks. Some sort of creation that was made up of all arms and legs that didn’t quite belong, and too many heads to count without using half of the fingers of everyone in the car. There were elbows that dug in somewhere between Myungsoo’s fourth and fifth vertebrae and a pole that got up close and bruisingly personal with his hips.
But Myungsoo believed breath had to be in sight as the train slowed, and the tunnel lightened ahead. He knew in his heart that personal space (usually not an issue for him) was no longer a novel idea of the future, but something altogether present and achievable. In the space of one second-two, even!-it would be attained.
…or maybe five seconds.
With the clinical voice of some woman, who likely hadn’t been paid enough, warning them not to push, the door opened at the next stop. Despite the pole-he was close to giving it a name and accepting its courtship, if he could just settle on a name-Myungsoo was turned by the mass that pushed as one to escape the train. His messenger bag shifted between his body and the next (one of indeterminate gender, bundled in a winter coat as soft and thick as if they’d taped pillows around themselves), and slipped sideways so books spilled out onto the subway floor.
At least, he mused, it hadn’t been raining; the snow was bad enough as it was. Myungsoo hugged the pole tightly and refused to give into the current of bodies as the attempt to carry him along. There was a mild horror to his expression as he watched his books become muddied, and one or two attempt the upstream journey. They skipped over the gap between train and platform, carried by firm kicks of booted feet, and he all but gave up on them as he rested his head against the pole.
Myungsoo couldn’t be late, and he couldn’t make it out and back, and so he sighed instead as he closed his eyes and left them to their fate. Later he’d allow himself a moment of sadness, when he didn’t run the risk of the professor berating him or signing him up to take care of the potions ingredients for the rest of the semester. Later, when it wasn’t his first day of class, and he had time to-
“Are these yours?”
--breathe.
Myungsoo turned, squinting at the other figure and hoping he wasn’t the one being addressed. But the lumpy shape in yet another overly-large winter coat was holding out his books towards him, covers bent slightly and covered in tread marks but at least they weren’t lost and-
“There’s ‘Potions: For the Licensed Healer’?”
At least the other man’s voice was soft (high pitched, half amused) as he stepped closer and the doors to the car slid shut with a quiet hiss. Myungsoo tipped his head to the side, his fingers still curled tightly around the pole and his feet braced for the train to start up again. He opened his mouth, his knuckles white.
--breathe.
“‘European Wizarding History: The Dark Ages’?”
Myungsoo’s bag gaped open like a mouth, admitting everything-like his mouth as he stared at the older man. Was he really going to keep reading the titles? Slowly he peeled one hand free from the death grip he had on the pole-it deserved it, after the bruise it had left on his hip-and nodded. Myungsoo let go with the other, and held his hands out for his books. “Yes. Those are-mine.” He agreed, practically jerking them out of the other’s grasp.
Though it was close he didn’t hug them to his body, the dirt all too likely to rub off on his black coat. Myungsoo shoved them into his bag instead, refusing to meet the man’s gaze a second time, though the man flopped into the seat next to the pole with his own bag and an overfull folder of sheet music.
“So, are those real textbooks?” He asked, ignoring the message Myungsoo was shooting like lasers at him with his eyes to put headphones in, or to pull out his phone and play something, to forget the books he’d seen. Anipang, maybe. Or Line Play. He needed to obey subway etiquette and ignore him now that he’d done his good deed for the day. Forget-
Healer clinical exams, winter semester.
“No? Of course not. They’re for a play.” An oddly specific play, that valued authenticity, but he hadn’t looked inside the books now had he?
--breathe.
“They went to the trouble of printing out a textbook, for a play?” The rescuer of his books looked incredulous. Downright skeptical, his eyes narrowed and his tone mocking like he didn’t believe Myungsoo-and Myungsoo was shit at lying so he probably didn’t. But the train was slowing again and Myungsoo held onto the strap of his bag as he nodded emphatically.
“Yes.” He agreed again, stepping back slowly like he expected to be detained. “Yes they did. Dedication to the craft.” There was no doubt now that everything was a lie, and the man outright laughed-he opened his mouth as the train rocked to a halt, and Myungsoo clapped his hands over his ears, though he wasn’t completely impolite. “Thank you,” he blurted, “For rescuing these.”
And before there could be another attempt at conversation he darted out onto the platform. He’d never see him again. He never see him again. There was no reason for Myungsoo to worry.
But he still did through all of The Ministry and You: Policies for Healers.
Two - Myungsoo:
Truth-be-told when the time rolled around for his evening class the next week, Myungsoo had forgotten. There were papers and paperwork, narratives and dates to cram into his memory; the worrying status of the wizarding community, and the artifact currently housed in the basement of the Wizarding History department. But when he looked up to thank whoever had held the door open for him he faltered, mouth gaping yet again in a most unflattering manner before the man sighed and jerked him the rest of the way into the train car muttering something about resemblances to carps and really did he have to save someone every time he rode this train?
“Sunggyu.” He finally offered, once he’d given up muttering and Myungsoo had gotten his mouth to shut. He looked a little less lumpy this time, though his coat looked just as warm as the one before; just more fashionable. And black. “I’m Sunggyu.” He clarified, a slight smile on his face that nearly turned his eyes non-existent. Sunggyu tugged Myungsoo further onto the train, then nudged him to take the first available seat before standing in front of him once he accepted in a daze. “I thought you were never going to ride this line again, after last week.”
…well, that was true enough. Or it had been true for the first few hours after the Books Incident, and then all thoughts of finding an alternate route (a taxi, 26,000 won. Bus; but where do I get off?) had been forgotten. All thoughts of questions he didn’t want to answer had sifted through Myungsoo’s sieve-like mind until they landed beneath everything else and were buried there. They came flooding back now as he reached for his phone-not that it worked, it was a prop-and was stopped by another nudge to his thigh.
“What’s your name?” Sunggyu asked, looking down at him-maybe that’s why he’d had Myungsoo sit, so he could loom-as he hung onto the strap. “It’s only polite.”
That was insulting, of course. Just a bit, maybe, or maybe a lot and Myungsoo leaned against his close friend the pole (he should, he thought, tell Sungyeol about his new best friend). All bruises were forgiven in the light of this new annoyance that seemed to think Myungsoo was some fascinating discovery, and Myungsoo’s voice snapped as he wrinkled his nose. “Kim Myungsoo.” He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, against the metal as he stared at the door opposite him in his best attempt to ignore anything else that might come.
“Is it real?” For a second Myungsoo thought he meant his name and he would really be offended, glancing up unconsciously, but Sunggyu was already clarifying again quickly. “The books I meant.” And then. “Magic?” He looked so genuinely curious, but Myungsoo had seen that before. Twice. He wasn’t going to journey down that path again, not if he could help it and he shrugged noncommittally as his gaze slid away a second time.
You’re sulking. And scared. A voice that sounded rather like Sungyeol’s hissed at him from a dark corner of his mind. He hissed back that he wasn’t, one hand curled around the cold metal comfortably. But he was, and who would want to learn about his world right now as it was? See, scared.
Myungsoo shook the voice off again, shaking his head at the same time as he yawned. “No.” He repeated his lie from the week before, studying the smudgy windows and the flashing signs as the train zipped past, almost too fast to be able to tell which of the stations was coming up next. It was unfair, Myungsoo decided, that Sunggyu had gotten onto the train before him this time around. There’d been no chance of seeing him first and avoiding, though he’d give him the benefit of the doubt that he hadn’t been waiting. “I found them at a bookstore, an old one. You find all sorts of strange things in shops like that.”
And that wasn’t the same lie, though it didn’t cross his mind to try and remember the right one. He still wasn’t going to tell the truth, and Sunggyu was staring at him, lips pursed together tightly. He looked like he was about to nag someone, and for all that Myungsoo knew he might have been.
Don’t lie, you can’t lie. And there was Sungyeol’s voice again, amused and exasperated at the same time, and it reminded him of the look on Sunggyu’s face. Or the look reminded him of Sungyeol’s voice, he couldn’t decide which, but-
“That’s not what you said last time.” Sunggyu huffed, and Myungsoo took a mental break to picture him with his hands on his hips, an apron tied around his waist and a wooden spoon in his hand. Definitely the nagging type, he thought, before the bubble popped with Sunggyu’s voice. “Last time you said it was for a play. I’m not going to laugh.”
But, was that any reassurance that he wouldn’t lock him up? Myungsoo looked up at him darkly, before his expression lightened and he shrugged. “They’re from a used bookstore, I liked the way they smelled.” And for good measure he added, “And, y’know, magic is something out of fairy tales.”
He was parroting words that had been thrown at him. Twice. They tasted bitter in his mouth, like ash, but they were out before Myungsoo could stop them and he winced a little. It was a betrayal almost.
You’re scared. Sungyeol repeated in his mind and Myungsoo pushed his way to his feet with another, more aggravated hiss. Of course I am.
And it could have been out loud, but he didn’t wait to hear any response. He just spat out, “I don’t know why you’re willing to believe in any of this; the magic, that it’s all true,” before sulking off of the train.
It was the wrong stop, but the train was leaving and it was too late now. Policy was boring anyhow.
Three - Sunggyu:
Sunggyu didn’t expect Myungsoo to come back after the last time; the subway car’s doors had shut with a finality that had almost seemed intentional, though Myungsoo had no control over how fast or slow they shut. Well, Sunggyu had assumed so until his question had taken root, and then he had to wonder how true that was. Because if magic was real-then who was to say that he couldn’t simply magic the doors shut faster. It was a mundane enough use for some sort of awesome power (or so he assumed), and that was getting off the subject.
But he couldn’t help it. The textbooks had been too real to be a prank, and he’d found himself thinking about them-and their owner-and leaving sheets of composition paper blank. Like the musical notes had wandered off of the sheets to ink the lines of his thoughts instead. It was aggravating to say the least, and what little he’d written seemed stilted and jolting, not like his usual composition. His teachers were bound to notice, and he found himself looking for the cause of his mental block each time he rode the train.
It wasn’t until a week later like clockwork that Myungsoo slid into Sunggyu’s life again like a strangely adorable, little black raincloud. Though he looked less sulky for once, and more like he would fall asleep in the next minute if the train didn’t rock so hard; he was clinging to the pole as usual, like it was the only thing holding him up, and when his forehead connected with it Sunggyu thought that the guess was more than accurate. All in black yet again, he was paler than usual, and his glance wasn’t one of horror as he cracked on eye open and spotted Sunggyu.
It was on the tip of Sunggyu’s tongue to apologize for last time-for all of his questions-but Myungsoo beat him to the punch. He slipped softly into conversation like he hadn’t walked off in a huff the last time, or fed Sunggyu a bunch of lies that even a child could have picked up right off the bat. Sunggyu got the impression though that nothing much stuck in Myungsoo’s mind for too long if he didn’t feel he needed it, and generally Sunggyu’s impressions were right. Maybe this was just another of those instances
“Yes.” Myungsoo mumbled at him, like he was tripping over his own tongue and wanted to swallow his words. “You were right, last time.” For all his reluctance it seemed to be more due to fatigue than because another lie would be so much simpler. He swayed again and his head hit the pole with a dull thunk that had Sunggyu wincing though he hardly reacted to it. Myungsoo just wobbled again as Sunggyu stepped closer, into the other’s personal space though he didn’t seem to care about that either. “Magic is real.”
And there was fear in dark eyes as Myungsoo studied him with an almost expectant expression on his face. He was waiting for something, something unwelcome and cruel no doubt, like the classmate who’d first told Sunggyu that most idol groups didn’t sing live. Only, what Myungsoo was waiting for was likely far more hurtful and he’d probably heard it more than once.
But no more than twice.
Even now his voice was low, almost too low to be heard, and Sunggyu had to shift closer to make out what he said. This way he supposed no one else could hear, and the only one he had to worry about was Sunggyu making fun of him. “The books gave it away.” Sunggyu replied instead, grabbing the pole above Myungsoo’s hand as his head dipped forward again. This time instead of cold metal it hit warm flesh, and Sunggyu nearly shivered at the cool brush of Myungsoo’s forehead, the chill that seemed to cling to his hair. “They were written too accurately to be just made up; they were written like my textbooks.”
Different subjects of course, but the same style; factual and informative and too specific to be for a prop; definitely not meant to be supplemental to some fictional series. “I couldn’t exactly-I couldn’t just tell you. I mean, Sungyeol would say I was stupid, since you didn’t believe me anyhow, but-” Myungsoo trailed off and Sunggyu wanted to wrap his arms around him even if he was still little more than a stranger, albeit a stranger who was spilling all of his truths to Sunggyu. He just seemed exhausted and cold and like he needed warmth. And there was something puppyish to him that made Sunggyu want to protect him.
“It’s alright.” He countered with a smile, one that it looked like Myungsoo might have returned if he could have mustered the strength. As it was it was the barest twitch of the corner of his lips, and a little of that fear receding further into the darkness. “You’re telling me now, so it worked out in the end.” For him anyhow, though it seemed like it worked out for Myungsoo as well. Sunggyu wasn’t laughing at him, and somehow he was keeping his curiosity at bay though the questions piling up could fill sheet after sheet of his composition paper.
Had, indeed, filled a composition paper back at the apartment he shared with Dongwoo, though he had made sure to keep them hidden. But Myungsoo was still speaking and Sunggyu didn’t really have time for questions today.
“I go to school. For healing-medical.” The latter sounded strange come from Myungsoo, like he was unsure of the term, and he corrected himself after a moment. “Nursing?”
Sunggyu would have liked to say that, that path fit Myungsoo, but he didn’t really know him. Couldn’t say for sure if it did, though it seemed right from the textbooks he carried with him. Fit too with the smile that actually managed to flit over thin lips and Sunggyu felt obligated to return. He shifted just a step closer, further into Myungsoo’s space as if he could share his warmth. He smiled wider before he tapped the other’s shoulder. “Tell me more?”
He could hope that Myungsoo would accept, and if he didn’t… there was always next time, then. And then the time after that. Like the old American movie said, it seemed like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Four - Sunggyu:
Sunggyu was dressed for spring the next time he saw Myungsoo, relieved to see that he’d waited for him as promised though he seemed to be doing his best not to laugh at the redness Sunggyu’s nose. It wasn’t spring yet, not quite, and the flush to his cheeks only further illustrated the fact if the steam rising from the gyeranbang and coffees hadn’t been enough.
He tried not to notice the way that Myungsoo’s hands shook as he folded the newspaper he’d been reading in half and tucked it under his arm, or the way they still shook as he reached to take one of the coffees from Sunggyu’s outstretched hand. There was a new sort of fear in his eyes, different from the fear that he’d seen in them the night he’d made his first confession-two weeks ago now? Perhaps three? No, four. A month. Point was it was a different sort of fear and he let go of the coffee and watched the way Myungsoo’s long, delicate fingers curled around it like it was an anchor. The only thing keeping him grounded, or from spiraling into that fear.
It was the same way he’d held tightly to Sunggyu’s hand only a night or two before when they’d been to the movies and the screen had been filled with explosions, loud and bright-only he didn’t let go of the coffee, like he had the other’s hand. He hid behind the steam instead, sipping the bitter cup as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Sunggyu should have added sugar, he supposed, but it wasn’t at the center of his attention. Not like the newspaper headline that Myungsoo’s arm didn’t quite manage to hide like he’d probably meant it to. Sunggyu took a quick breath, and Myungsoo shifted again.
“Thank you-” Myungsoo said.
And Sunggyu interrupted. “What’s wrong-”
They’d started at the same time, and both paused awkwardly before Myungsoo took another quick sip, the heat clearly scalding his tongue if the surprised jerk back was anything to go by. “Nothing’s-nothing’s wrong.” He replied past the steam, letting it fog his glasses as he turned away to watch the empty tracks. Sunggyu held out gyeranbang and Myungsoo took it without looking though Sunggyu had grown accustomed to that; the awkward turns Myungsoo’s attitude could take, especially when he felt cornered by something.
Like questions.
Ministry Under Attack: Lax Security.
“Your paper says otherwise.” Sunggyu didn’t make it accusatory, though it was always hit or miss whether Myungsoo would take it that way. He tugged on the paper, with no intention to take it away, and Myungsoo practically flinched back from him, his grip tightening on his snack and nearly smashing it before he managed to loosen his grasp and make his reaction seem more ordinary. “Is something going on? You can talk to me about things, you know.” Or he hoped that he did, though he really didn’t know what to expect. It was still new, despite the fact that Myungsoo had accepted him as a friend. Myungsoo had found himself willing to tell Sunggyu the truth about magic and any number of things.
Sunggyu had opened up in the same way, though his secrets weren’t quite as impressive. His secrets definitely didn’t involve security breaches and leaked information, and Myungsoo’s fingers were shaking again as he folded the paper even smaller and shoved it in the bag, talking through a mouthful of egg and bread that threatened to spray out. And Sunggyu let himself be distracted, because behind the fear there was the stubbornness he’d come to expect from his friend as well. The look that said he wouldn’t talk, not unless he was forced to, and that it was better to wait him out if he could because eventually it’d spill from his lips.
“It’s not as scary as it sounds, you now how journalists are.” And it wasn’t a lie, because Sunggyu knew Sungjong could make the smallest story into a mountain given enough time, paper and ink. And he was still in school. The journalists who’d been in the business for years could no doubt write War and Peace out of a project to fix potholes before they got bigger over the winter. So he swallowed the lie, as Myungsoo took another bite entirely too large though he didn’t seem to care.
It made his cheeks puff out adorably, and Dongwoo would have been pinching them as he talked about how precious Myungsoo was. It was a good thing he wasn’t around, as Myungsoo attempted a smile. “I’ll tell you if it gets bad, hyung.” And Sunggyu had to believe him, because there wasn’t a reason not to just yet though he couldn’t forget the finger-crushing grip the younger had his hand in at the movies.
What, exactly, did ‘gets bad’ even mean. How bad did it have to get before Myungsoo would be willing to talk?
“I believe you.” Sunggyu replied around his own mouthful of bread and egg, a smile on his lips as he watched the headlights on the walls of the tunnel, announcing the upcoming train as well as any noise could. “Now, what are your plans this weekend? Because Dongwoo was thinking kalguksu and noraebang if you wanted to invite Woohyun, Hoya and Sungyeol.”
The relief that passed through Myungsoo was practically visible, like a weight lifted off of his shoulders, and the grin this time was bright and genuine as he leaned against Sunggyu’s side affectionately, his breath smelling of the strong coffee. “Or, how about chicken and beer instead?” He asked, and with his warm breath so close Sunggyu couldn’t help but shiver and give in.
“Chicken and beer.” He agreed, “Dongwoo will somehow, someway, manage to survive.” Sunggyu paused and then nudged Myungsoo. “Race you to the first open seat?”
Five - Myungsoo:
Myungsoo knew he probably looked a haggard, awful mess, but given that was how he felt he didn’t try and correct it. No amount of bb cream, even if applied with a trowel, would alter the way he looked, or lighten the dark circles traced by fear’s cold, bruising fingers underneath his eyes. At least he matched his clothing for once, though he didn’t look nearly as put together as he usually did. He seemed out of place for once, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around them. Myungsoo didn’t so much as move or twitch when others passed by, and when he felt Sunggyu’s familiar, spring-warm presence he slid to the side until he was curled into t-shirt warmed by the older man’s flesh, body shaking minutely.
“I’m scared, hyung.” He whispered into the soft cotton, and he knew he’d taken longer to admit this than he should have ever taken. If he’d been Sunggyu he would have grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him until his teeth rattled and the rocking motion had knocked the words loose. More than once he’d grabbed his own shoulders in between classes or just standing in a hallway out of the way and shook himself, though the words hadn’t formed until now. Here. Sitting in a dingy, dimly lit subway station after the train had come and gone. And come and gone again. The bench beneath them was uncomfortable and the wall behind them dirty, but neither seemed to care as Sunggyu breathed in, then out, a calming, steady rhythm. Myungsoo’s voice was unsteady, words uncertain and in line with how he felt. “They say it’s war.”
Though not war like Sunggyu’s world was used to, like what he talked about when he mentioned history to Myungsoo. This was a war that threatened the light with an all-encompassing cloak of black. It was a blackness that inched from the earth itself and corrupted what was good with its miasma of blood and dirt; magics that could go wrong and the threat of a new world if the scales of balance were tipped too far towards the side that sprang from some ancient era.
He didn’t expect an immediate answer and he didn’t get one, either. Just Sunggyu’s steady breathing, though the hitch in his heartbeat was indication enough that he’d heard Myungsoo and was scared too. But it was easy to ignore that hitch and that steady beat because his face was calm and gentle, and his arm around Myungsoo careful and sure at the same time. And though it was nothing like a shield charm and it couldn’t truly protect if something happened, it felt as strong as one to Myungsoo’s fragile sense of security.
“You’ll be alright, though, won’t you?” Sunggyu asked before the silence could stretch on for too long and break, worn to thin. Just before Myungsoo could pull away, feeling his admission was unwanted and unneeded, and Sunggyu didn’t care anymore. That he’d only asked the first time, if anything was wrong, because he’d felt obligated to. He breathed out raggedly against cotton and skin, just barely controlling the urge to grip the t-shirt in tight hands and refuse to let go.
“I think so?” He answered, and the words were as uncertain as everything else. Spoken quietly against Sunggyu’s skin, like it’d make them more or less real if he didn’t say them to his hyung’s face. “Y-yes? I’m in a healer’s university-they won’t make us fight.” The reassurance was for himself as much as it was for Sunggyu who had a tense line thrumming through his muscles, though his arm around Myungsoo didn’t tighten any. Myungsoo rubbed his own arm lightly, finally pulling back but only slightly to look Sunggyu in the face. “There have to be people who can fix what’s broken.”
Even though he didn’t like to think about that; it was that pain that sometimes had him questioning his choice of path. Until he could help with a birth, or ease the pain of a man who’d faced so much in his life; empathy, Sunggyu had called it. Empathy, and he traced the syllables into Myungsoo’s palm, making him shiver. He wasn’t shivering now, though, as Sunggyu tugged him close again with a quick jerk.
“If you need to-if it gets too dangerous.” And now Sunggyu was forcing out words, when that was usually Myungsoo’s role. To swallow and rewrite and spit out the words that wouldn’t come. “Come and stay with your hyungs, alright?” He sounded like he wanted to make the words an order and couldn’t at the same time; because Myungsoo couldn’t just listen to orders.
He had to make his own choice; he had to make it himself. He couldn’t just listen and do as told, and in doing so leave his classmates…
But he was getting ahead of himself, wasn’t he.
“Of course, I’d offer the same but…” The laughter that escaped was half broken sounding, but it was still laughter as he offered a crooked smile to Sunggyu-the only thing he could. “It’s not really a good time for tourists.” It was making light of the situation, but it helped the band around his chest to listen at least a centimeter; again, all that he could manage, and all that he was capable of.
Myungsoo couldn’t even carry the conversation further, pulling away again as Sunggyu, wiped at his eyes briskly. Like the dust were the problem, and not the tears as he laughed; a little breathless and a little half broken as well. “Or how about this; how about you invite me when things are better, then.” He countered, before Myungsoo tugged him to his feet and jerked his chin at the oncoming train.
“Or how about, when it’s get quieter, I invite you to dinner instead.” And, for now, that was all he wanted to promise. Sunggyu seemed to think about it before he shrugged, just one shoulder.
“Deal.”
Six - Myungsoo:
The next time they met it was like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t melted down in front of Sunggyu (or close to it), and Sunggyu hadn’t made offers that Myungsoo so desperately wanted to take him up on. It was a relief, and almost like he’d never said anything. There was nothing but smiles and laughter, and good-natured shoving.
Though, that could have been because of the rain. The almost torrential downpour that had soaked both them and their belongings alike, with water dripped from jackets, shirts and hair. It dripped steadily from the edges of Sunggyu’s portfolio, and the folds of Myungsoo’s backpack. The floor of the empty subway car was a hazard now, and soggy papers-still legible-were spread out over every empty seat in an attempt to dry them out.
“You really look like a wet dog.” Sunggyu rambled as he flopped into one of the seats and dragged Myungsoo down beside him, as was becoming his habit now. “One that decided to play in a puddle, even though he knew he shouldn’t.” Only there was no mud, and Myungsoo had been trying to stay dry, but he didn’t point that out as he shook his head so that water sprayed out, not stopping until Sunggyu grabbed him and held him still, pulling him to sit back. “And you act like one too.”
“That was the point, hyung.” Myungsoo retorted with a sly grin. “If you’re going to make comparisons, I have to act on them, don’t I?” He knew he was being a brat, but he couldn’t stop himself as he drew his knees up to his chest, feet pressed to the edge of the seat. They were making enough of a mess with their damp clothing already that it hardly seemed to matter if they made a bit more with their feet.
He didn’t move then, not even as Sunggyu slipped the other half of his headphones into Myungsoo’s ear. If he didn’t move, maybe his clothes would dry faster. Maybe he’d get warm enough that his hair would dry without getting too curly. And maybe that was wishful thinking, because no matter what he was well on the path to looking like an ahjumma on her way home with a brand new perm. He let himself relax instead as Sunggyu tugged at his hair, pulling it from root to tip and drawing the water out of it slowly.
“Are you like this with everyone?” He teased Myungsoo, his voice quiet, though still audible over the music in the earbuds. The motion of his fingers was soothing and Myungsoo leaned back further, nearly trapping Sunggyu’s arm behind him so he couldn’t pull it away. “Or do you do this just to annoy your hyung.”
For all that he was complaining, he still didn’t seem to mind, and he didn’t pull away either as the music switched to something that sounded like one of Sunggyu’s own compositions. “I mean, you just got your homework even wetter.” And while that was true…
Myungsoo also didn’t care about that.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The sly grin grew, though it had a sleepy note to it as Sunggyu brushed a hand over his hair. He patted it, almost, like it’d help it to dry faster. Myungsoo wanted to curl against Sunggyu’s side except that that would take too much effort, and they still had eight stops to go. The train rocked beneath them, and the lights flickered through the windows from the walls of the tunnel. “Maybe I do it to everyone, hyung isn’t that special really.”
But Myungsoo was lying through his teeth, and Sunggyu swatted at him before his hand resumed its soothing ministrations.
“Liar.” Sunggyu mused, lips curved into a smile as he rested his own head back against the window. And he sounded like he was going to continue but didn’t, as Myungsoo wished that days like this would come more often. Days just like this, the only thing they had to worry about being the rain and their homework as they shared earbuds and whatever came on the music player.
Myungsoo could have slept like that, and almost did. His eyes closed as he lost himself in the steady sound of Sunggyu’s breathing beside him, and the way he drew his fingers through Myungsoo’s hair. And Myungsoo would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the whoosh of the car’s doors as the slid open at the next station and let in a crowd of bedraggled ahjummas, as wet as Sunggyu and Myungsoo had been.
“Uh-oh,” he hissed, sitting up straight with a start as Sunggyu sat up beside him. “Our homework!” He added, and they scrambled up and to their feet, gathering papers and shoving them at the speed of light-mindless of ownership and condition-into bags and portfolios just praying that nothing ripped. By the time they had them all stowed away they were left breathless and seat-less in the middle of the subway car as the ahjummas stared at them. Judging them.
Sunggyu started to laugh first, almost silently, and Myungsoo followed after much more loudly though he tried to muffle it in his elbow. His grin threatened to split his face in two.
He could use more days like this, but that was probably all wishful thinking. Days like this… felt like they would come few and far between. But for now, maybe it could be enough. For now all he wanted to see was the pure, unstoppable happiness that could come from life. It didn’t matter that he and Sunggyu were as wet as could be and probably smelled worse than a wet dog, because with Sunggyu’s warm breath against his throat he could forget just about anything.
Seven - Sunggyu:
They decided not to ride the train, but only because Sunggyu didn’t want to have to leave Myungsoo alone when they reached one of their stops, whosever came first. He didn’t want to part ways when the younger man was covered in burns, bruises, and half healed scars. And Myungsoo’s voice would not hold steady, dropping in and out as Sunggyu tugged him back to his apartment and pushed him onto the couch, searching for the blanket that Dongwoo’s mother had made because ‘you never know when you’re going to need an extra one. College boys, you’ve always got someone over.’
“Just stay there,” Sunggyu insisted, “and I’ll get you something hot to drink.” Right now the younger probably wanted soju more than anything, but Sunggyu knew better than to offer it as he took the three steps needed to step into the kitchen alcove and turn the electric kettle on with a hiss. They didn’t need the heightened emotional state that would come with it, or any sort of drunken stupor. It was bad enough that he couldn’t stop shaking from the late April chill, even underneath the folds of the heavy blanket that Sunggyu had wrapped around him.
“I can’t stay long,” Myungsoo croaked, sounding like he’d inhaled something he shouldn’t, and his voice was muffled by the blanket. Just his nose and eyes were visible from inside the cocoon it looked like he’d made himself. On any other day Sunggyu would have been reaching for his phone to take a picture (for blackmail purposes), but today he was just relieved that it covered the bandages and the splint around his fingers. It made him look smaller than he was, like a kid almost, and Sunggyu willed the kettle to heat faster than it already did to begin with. “I have to get back, they’re not giving us a choice anymore.”
Sunggyu thought of asking who ‘they’ were, but didn’t. He thought about asking why they didn’t have a choice, but in the end… he didn’t ask that either. He nodded quietly instead, pulling a somewhat battered mug down out of the cupboard. It clattered as he set it on the counter and turned back to Myungsoo. “You have a place to stay, if you ever need that. Remember?” Like either of them could forget, but Sunggyu wanted to make it clear-to remind him of the offer. It needed saying before he wound up with no place to go because somehow it didn’t cross his mind that he had someone who would move the world for him.
“I don’t want it to get to where it’s too late. I can’t think about what happens if you can’t even choose that option.” He added as the kettle clicked again, finished heating at last. Sunggyu turned away to search almost empty cupboards for tea, the sound of cupboard doors closing almost drowning out Myungsoo though he stopped his search at the quiet voice from the couch. He gripped the handle and didn’t turn in case he stopped talking when forced to speak face to face with Sunggyu. Confrontation or anything that could be seen as such had never gone well with Myungsoo, Sunggyu had learned. It was better to do this- to wait him out until the words came, no matter how soft or slow. Inevitably he’d always give in.
Myungsoo got to his feet, stumbled a few steps, and took a seat at the counter before he flopped down half over it. “I can’t choose that though, hyung.” His words were directed more at the countertop than at Sunggyu it seemed, but Sunggyu listened well, his forehead pressed to the cupboard in front of him. He didn’t move because he didn’t want to scare Myungsoo away, it was almost like trying to talk to a startled, frightened, motionless rabbit that didn’t want know which way to run, but no matter where he wouldn’t find safety. “Not until I have no other choice, it’s giving up on my friends. Even if we didn’t ask for any of this.”
And Sunggyu didn’t have to ask what ‘this’ was, because that he knew. From the articles Myungsoo had finally let him read, and from the stories that he had finally told.
This was the nameless evil that had slid up from the very ground they walked on, corrupting and cloaking.
This was something he couldn’t imagine, not truly, not even if he tried.
He had to nod then quietly, pulling the next cupboard open, finally forced into motion. “It still stands, though. If you need a place-if your friends need a place-we don’t mind if you find it here.” Even if it invited the danger to them they wouldn’t mind, because it was better to face trials together than to face them alone-though Myungsoo wasn’t exactly doing that, either. Not with the widespread nature of the problem. Not with the whole of their society facing it.
But to Sunggyu it still felt like he was facing it alone. Finally found he dropped the tea into the cup and poured the hot water over it, the steam billowing up to warm his face. He felt colder than he had before, and almost didn’t want to let go of the cup as he set it in front of Myungsoo. “Here,” he whispered. “Drink this.” And then “You don’t have to make a decision today.”
But somehow he knew that Myungsoo’s decision had already been made. That no matter what he said, it wouldn’t matter. It had been Myungsoo’s decision to begin with, and all he could do was offer advice, even if it wasn’t taken. Sunggyu would have to hope that it’d work out in the end and they’d meet again for the rest of their lives. They had all the time in the world, he had to believe it.
Eight - Myungsoo:
For once Myungsoo felt a braveness that wasn’t actually there. There was a glimmer of it, a spark, but it was enough that he could fan it into something bigger and more like what courage ought to be. From a little flicker to a flame, and then into a fire; at least that was what he told himself as he sat beside Sunggyu, though he couldn’t look him in the eye.
He looked instead at the floor and their feet propped close together: worn converse and sneakers.
He looked at the advertisements above the seats opposite theirs: an idol group advertising an energy drink.
And he stared at his fingernails: too short, too ragged, but at least they were clean.
Anywhere that wasn’t his hyung. Anywhere he could look that he wouldn’t have to see the hurt that he could already imagine all too well. Myungsoo didn’t need an accurate, in person representation of the look that he didn’t want to have to witness. He didn’t want to be the cause of it, though it was unavoidable. He’d still know the truth, even if he covered his eyes and ears and sang underneath his breath.
But Myungsoo wasn’t singing as he stared at the shopping bag someone had left on the seat across and forgot about, or left on purpose. There didn’t seem to be anyone who would claim ownership of it anyhow, at least not on this train.
“I don’t know if I’ll be back anytime soon.” Myungsoo admitted, the words for once slipping from his mouth with ease. It was all false bravery that he clung to like a life raft with all his strength, because he couldn’t let it go and slide back into fear though he could feel as it lapped like waves at his feet. “I thought maybe I could avoid it, but I was-” He shrugged far more nonchalantly than the subject deserved, the only action betraying Myungsoo’s nerves the quick motion of his fingers as he picked at his cuticles and his eyes as they darted over dirty marks left on the floor. “Wrong. I was wrong.”
The words were out now at least, and he sunk low in his seat as if he’d lost all that had held him up before. Sunggyu didn’t laugh (though by now he wouldn’t), and he didn’t push Myungsoo away, either (quite the opposite, really). He slid his hand into Myungsoo’s instead, held tight as if he expected Myungsoo to try and escape like he had so often in the earlier days of their friendship.
He didn’t say anything though either, and Myungsoo scrunched his eyes shut as he waited for whatever response would eventually come. Would it be an explosion of hurt, or would he tell Myungsoo to leave and never come back? He wanted to tell his hyung to hurry up and get it over with, but Sunggyu was ahead of him as his lips touched Myungsoo’s ear, his breath warm like his hand.
“You will come back, though, right?” He asked, like the answer was already a given as Myungsoo swallowed harshly. It sounded loud in his own ears as he tugged at the cuticle on his thumb, staring at the half-moon shape above it. Pale, next to the rest of the nail, and none of that was important. Sunggyu tugged his hand away, keeping hold of the other still, his tone insistent but never loud as he laced their fingers together. “This isn’t a goodbye where you don’t come back this is just like a hiatus.”
He sounded certain of it, but at the same time not at all. “I’m not going to have to make a fansite about how I need my bias back. Right?”
And this was why Myungsoo liked this hyung. Without making Myungsoo feel stupid he could lighten the situation at least a little. He made it easier to bear, though Myungsoo still couldn’t meet his eyes or even look him in the face. He looked at their hands instead, resting entwined on top of their too-closely pressed together thighs, pale skin next to pale skin. “I don’t-” He stared some more, trying to remember how to breath, “I might-”
“You will.” Sunggyu supplied for him easily, though there was a strained sound to his hyung’s voice as well, like the words couldn’t come easy for him either. But his lips were still against Myungsoo’s ear, and his breathing was steady as he rubbed his thumb over the bones in Myungsoo’s fingers. “You don’t know when, but you’ll be back, right? Promise; right?”
Myungsoo didn’t want to make his hyung beg, not like this. Didn’t want to hurt the man he’d come to respect, to like, to lo- he didn’t want to hurt him more. He smiled at least, looking out of the corners of his eyes at Sunggyu, finally seeing the desperate expression on his face as he gripped Myungsoo’s hand hard enough that the bones felt like they were creaking.
At least the other passengers had disappeared now, trickling out at each stop. The car was silent and the hour was late, and Myungsoo’s voice broke the silence like a shattering mirror as he turned to face Sunggyu fully. He watched as the desperation smoothed away into something happier.
“I really don’t want to see what kind of fansite you’d come up with, hyung, I really don’t.” He nudged his hyung with his knee, lips crooked as he pulled his hand free. “It’d probably be horrible colors that I can’t stand-you don’t know the importance of black, hyung-and filled with sappy lyrics.” The smile slid slightly, showing what was behind the easy mask as Myungsoo leaned closer to Sunggyu. “I’ll be back though, hyung.” The next words were harder. “Promise.”
His lips as he pressed them to Sunggyu’s were warm, as warm as the other’s hand had been, and then he was rocketing to his feet to grab his book bag and escape the train car. Nevermind the fact that it was the wrong stop (it happened often enough), and that he hadn’t said goodbye (he’d be back, so why should he?). Myungsoo only caught one glimpse of the shocked half-smile before the doors slid shut, and the hand held out towards him as if to demand his promise all over again.
Nine - Sunggyu:
The empty space beside Sunggyu bothered him, though he was taking a page from Myungsoo’s book and doing his best to ignore it. There was warmth missing that he hadn’t realized he relied on so much until now, when it wasn’t… here. Though truthfully the space wasn’t truly empty, so much as it was empty metaphorically.
After all, if there was an empty space on the subway train, someone was bound to take it sooner or later. Even if that someone wasn’t the one that Sunggyu had grown to expect.
Even if they weren’t that particular someone who’d left him with a kiss and little else other than a stack of sheet music that was still wrinkled and warped from the rain. Little else other than worries that he wouldn’t come back, because a promise was just words and in the face of death…
What were words, in the end?
“Don’t think like that.” Sunggyu whispered to himself, scrubbing his hands through his hair in frustration, only stopping to halt the downward path said sheet music was taking, down his sloped legs towards the floor.
Where they’d no doubt be trampled.
“Don’t think like that, he said he’s coming back.” He tried not to think of the books he’d rescued that fateful day back in the winter. Or the weeks that had passed since their first kiss.
And yet Sunggyu couldn’t help but wonder if Myungsoo was okay, wherever he was. It was useless to try and find him because he didn’t even know where to start, and he wished he’d asked more questions while he’d had the chance. Before Myungsoo’s lips had met his and silenced his thoughts, other than that he needed that promise. It was the only thing in the world that he needed, other than those lips against his a second time.
He needed to know that Myungsoo would come back to him.
The thought that he might not crossed Sunggyu’s thoughts more than once, and had more than just this day. It’d hit him at the least expected moments that he might not, and then Dongwoo would have to talk him back out of it, or at least distract him in any way that he could; dinners and noraebang, or asking to hear his latest composition. Dragging him out to walk through the park near their apartment, or forcing him to meet up with university friends with cheerfulness that only Dongwoo could manage and no one else dared try or else they’d risk being swatted at and chased out of the room.
“He promised.” Though logic told him again that words were just words, they still brought him the most comfort. And what made it easier still was the teasing way they’d parted, the reassurance that he’d be back to stop Sunggyu from creating any sort of technological, online shrine in his memory. It was better than promising a real shrine, because he couldn’t take the thought and didn’t let it even sink in except at night when the dark closed in and he couldn’t seem to get away from it no matter how much he twisted and turned until Dongwoo in the next room over shouted at him to lay still and stop thinking.
As if he was thinking loud enough for the other man to hear.
Maybe he wasn’t-maybe he was just talking loud enough.
“He’ll keep his promise…” He whispered, though by now his seatmate had moved away, further down the car, still eying him occasionally so that Sunggyu couldn’t do anything but nod awkwardly back and feel relief when he got off at the next stop. Sunggyu sunk lower in his seat, remembering the ungainly way Myungsoo would fold his lanky body practically in half as he sat, like it made the seats more comfortable for him. Maybe it had, or maybe he was just so used to trying to go unnoticed that it had seemed natural.
Sunggyu hoped that he was going unnoticed now, too. That he was safe, and everything had just been a giant scare. Soon he’d be back to sitting beside Sunggyu on the train, joking as they tried not to miss their stop though half the time they were laughing so hard that they did. The memories seemed like only yesterday, and when he felt the panic that Myungsoo must have felt start to creep in he just tried to remember something else instead. Like Myungsoo’s wardrobe that seemed to hold nothing but black, and the occasional dark blue.
“He’ll-” He started, and a soft, wrinkled hand patted his own softly and he turned to look at the old woman who’d sat beside him and he hadn’t even noticed. She was smiling, as she closed her hand over his wrist, her thumb brushing his skin lightly.
“Be back.” She finished for him, smiling brighter. “Because he promised.”
Sunggyu nodded slowly, straightening in his seat as he felt a sense of- peace, almost. It washed over him, cooling and merciful as she let go.
“He promised.” Sunggyu agreed, smiling back at her, and when he opened his eyes she was gone. The train doors whooshed shut, but when he turned to look she was already out of sight. Sunggyu tilted his head to the side, then settled for shaking it briefly before he shifted back around. Old women certainly were moving faster nowadays, weren’t they?
Ten - Myungsoo:
Myungsoo came back during a heavy June rain, the warmth like a blanket weighted down by the dampness in the air. He knew his hair was like the worn bristles on a broom, jutting in all directions, but patting it with his hands did little to smooth it back down into anything resembling order-and somehow it was fitting that it wouldn’t behave. If nothing else in his life would go the way he wanted it to, then why should his hair pay any more attention? He patted it once more, then left it be, his hands dropped to his sides as he stepped onto the subway platform.
For a moment he stood absolutely still, just closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, and when he opened them again he let it out explosively. Stared at the back of a familiar head, dipped downwards as it bobbed to whatever music was playing in his headphones. It only took one step-two-then three and he was standing behind Sunggyu on the near empty platform. Another breath and he leaned against his shorter hyung, his arms around him from behind and his cheek pressed against warm hair.
“I’m late, hyung.” He whispered, stirring the hair against his lips with each word, each breath as Sunggyu stiffened in his arms and tugged earbuds free of his ears. Sunggyu felt the same as he had before, to Myungsoo, and it made him all the more aware of how he himself was skinnier now. How he was all sharp angles and edges with little else in between. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- I meant to come back earlier.”
Sooner than a month, or the month and a half that it seemed to have taken. And to know that others would still be gone for months to come while he was here, and he was late-
“Things didn’t work out though- things didn’t work out at all-” And Myungsoo was babbling, words tumbling over his tongue and teeth altogether too quickly, but he couldn’t help that either as he inhaled the familiar scent of bitter coffee and cigarettes; of the ink that he knew dotted Sunggyu’s hands as they wrapped around his and pried Myungsoo’s arms open.
Then he had to face that accepting expression on an even more familiar face, and the warm hands that first caught his own again, and then let go to touch and trace his face, smoothing over new scars and the bow of his lips. There was worry, but also a smile on Sunggyu’s lips, relief on his face. Myungsoo couldn’t stop the soft, sob of relief that escaped him before Sunggyu’s hand was in his, yanking him from the platform and up the escalator faster than Myungsoo could protest the action.
“I don’t care.” The words floated back to Myungsoo like a blessing, shared through warm fingertips pressed to the skin on the inside of his wrist. “Never would be worse, unforgiveable. If you never stopped behind me again to remind me that I’m shorter, or that I stink like an ashtray.”
Another apology was resting on Myungsoo’s tongue, ready to slide off of it, but he chewed it back and swallowed instead. Found new words and let them trip out past numb lips as they stepped from the cover of the escalator shelter and back out into the rain, though neither of them seemed to care about it. Not even as they headed for past the bus stop.
“You do, but I like it.” He replied, watching the way the muscles in Sunggyu’s shoulders shifted under a shirt that became wetter with each passing second. A bus slowed down, then sped right back up again as if to say it refused such bedraggled and damp looking passengers. “You do, but I’ve missed it.” There’d been so much left unsaid, though now it didn’t matter, and his heart sunk low in his belly anew even as his hand tightened and picked up his pace to walk beside Sunggyu on the uneven sidewalk, mindless of the puddles that soaked his shoes. “Does-do you still want another roommate, hyung?”
It was easier to ask that, even with as much weight as it carried, than to say whatever else lay heavy on his mind; weighted his emotions like too much baggage. Sunggyu stopped so abruptly that he yanked Myungsoo to a stop and jerked his arm, and then he tugged the younger under the shelter of a nearby bus stop. “I thought-” He started and then paused to shake his head. “Didn’t you say that you needed to be in your world, no matter how much you liked mine?” Sunggyu asked, and Myungsoo had to shake the next words out from where they’d stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“I did, at one point,” his voice was a cracked whisper and he couldn’t even clear his throat, though he brought his free hand up to it as if it could help. “But now I don’t.” Myungsoo’s fingers itched as he tightened his grip again, and Sunggyu to his credit didn’t even wince. “It’s not my world anymore.”
And those who had kept him there were now the ones who had forced him out in desperation. Separated from him as cleanly as the spell had from- “I don’t have magic anymore.” It was the first he’d had to speak those words himself and his eyes burned as he blinked into the rain, wished they were still out in it so he could feel it on his face instead of the tears that were sure to come.
He didn’t want to talk about it though; didn’t want to go further than that. And like those fingertips and words earlier it was a blessing when gentle lips brushed over his jaw, then pressed to the corner of his mouth. Thumbs pushed against the curve of his hipbones and fingers hooked through belt loops before he met Sunggyu’s eyes and swallowed back the sob that wanted to escape a second time. Because Sunggyu’s next words were like a temporary fix, a field dressing to help in the healing until he could manage something better and the full story could come tumbling out.
“A second roommate would be nice.”