Maybe ; Sungyeol/Myungsoo

[thevignette]

Title: Maybe
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Infinite
Pairing(s): Sungyeol/Myungsoo
Word count: ~3900 words
Disclaimer: This is only fiction.
Summary: Myungsoo revisits a memory, and considers what Sungyeol really means to him.



Maybe

The air is heavy with something. The night is pregnant, swollen like a ripe fruit. It’s one of those nights were you can open your mouth and taste the air, sitting heavily on your tongue.

Myungsoo inhales lungfuls of crisp night air as they walk along the street, towards where their van is parked.

He is walking next to Sungyeol, who is going on about something, talking so quickly that Myungsoo only understands about half of what he is saying. Myungsoo has to hide a snicker when Sungyeol nearly walks into a lamp post. When he’s caught up in something, Sungyeol has the awful habit of forgetting about the rest of the world.

Myungsoo pauses before stepping off the curb to cross the road, but Sungyeol, carelessly and thoughtlessly, steps off the sidewalk. There’s a frozen moment where Myungsoo sees the headlights approaching, and something cold drags down his spine. A shout gets trapped in his throat and he reaches out to grab Sungyeol by the elbow, stopping him just in time.

He drags Sungyeol violently back onto the sidewalk as a car races past them. His heart is beating out of time, a startled bird in his ribcage, and it takes great effort just to draw a lungful of air.

Behind them, Sunggyu is yelling something along the lines of for heaven’s sake be careful, do you want to die. Myungsoo exhales and loosens his grip on Sungyeol, letting his hand fall away. Sungyeol’s gaze flickers to Myungsoo’s face, and the shock in his eyes gives way to something something unreadable.

“Watch where you’re going,” Myungsoo says at last, and looks away.

It is only later that night, when Myungsoo is standing under the hot spray of water in the shower, eyes closed and letting his mind drift off, that he remembers that unreadable look in Sungyeol’s eyes and realises that it is the first time that Sungyeol has ever been anything but an open book to him.

And for some unknown reason, that realisation leaves him uneasy.

It happens because Sungyeol has the mental maturity of a five year old. Myungsoo doesn’t know how Sungyeol’s brain works, and how he could possibly think scaring Myungsoo when he was holding both his camera and his laptop was a good idea.

Myungsoo almost drops both after shrieking like a little girl. He sets the items down on the table, and decides that this is a good day for him to kill Lee Sungyeol. He lunges for a cackling Sungyeol and tackles him to the ground. Sungyeol doesn’t stop laughing, the annoying brat - he tries to get away, but he’s laughing so hard that he’s pretty much useless.

In the space of few seconds, Myungsoo has Sungyeol pressed beneath him, pinned to the ground with his weight. Sungyeol struggles against him, trying to escape but there’s no use. Myungsoo has both his hands locked around Sungyeol’s - he has Sungyeol’s right hand trapped against the ground, and he keeps the left hand in a tight grip even as he forces his arm horizontally against Sungyeol’s throat.

Sungyeol makes a high-pitched breathy noise that is half-laughter and half-protest. “It hurts!” he yelps, but Myungsoo grins down at him.

“No, it doesn’t,” he says, and presses his arm down harder.

Sungyeol stops moving suddenly, going completely still. He stares up at Myungsoo, mouth open in a way that is almost comical, and he makes a low, strangled noise as he tries to draw a breath.

It’s that noise that does it - sharp awareness flares through Myungsoo with startling heat, and he lets go immediately, burnt. He rolls off Sungyeol, instinctively curling his hands into fists so he won’t reach out again. His skin stings.

Sungyeol doesn’t sit up. He just lies there, nursing his wrists, and after a few moments, he turns to look at Myungsoo. “You’re insane,” he says, the same way he always does whenever he throws an insult at Myungsoo. That childish complaining way, with a hint of amusement, and an undercurrent of something like fondness or affection. It makes Myungsoo shiver.

“You’re insane,” Myungsoo retorts. “I’ll kill you if you try jumping out at me like that again, I swear.” The threat sounds weak, even to himself.

Sungyeol grins. “You wouldn’t,” he says, sitting up. “You would miss me too much.”

Without warning, a crowd of feelings swarms up his throat, choking him, and Myungsoo turns away, suddenly mute.

One night, a few months after their debut, Myungsoo got a call from Woohyun just as he was ending the last of his schedule, ten minutes before nine.

“What?” he asked, his voice flat and dull from fatigue.

“Where are you?” Woohyun, on the other hand, sounded tense and on edge.

“What is it?” Myungsoo asked. “I’m heading back soon.”

“Get back here now,” Woohyun said, and there’s something in his voice that made Myungsoo pause and frown. “And I mean, now.”

“Did something happen?” Myungsoo asked.

“Just be quick,” Woohyun said and hung up.

Myungsoo swore and made their manager speed all the way home. He jumped out of the car while the manager was still parking, ignoring the startled shout of what the hell are you doing and ran all the way back to their house.

He opened the door and immediately, Sunggyu was there, grabbing him by the shoulders and dragging him indoors. “For heaven’s sake, go and talk some sense into that idiot,” he growled.

“What the hell is going on!” Myungsoo demanded.

“Sungyeol is packing his bags,” Sungjong said, standing in the middle of the living room with his arms crossed, looking both worried and exasperated.

Myungsoo gaped at him. “What?” He managed. “He’s what?”

“He says he’s leaving,” Sungjong said, and Myungsoo fought the urge to scream in frustration. It had been such a long, trying day and now this. This was crazy. This was impossible. This was not supposed to happen.

He walked into Sungyeol’s room to find him sitting on the ground, packing clothes into a bag. The sight gutted him for a moment and the only thought he had was this is real.

“Oh,” Sungyeol said when he looked up. “You’re back.” He started stuffing his belongings into the bag at a much faster pace, as if he wanted to get everything packed before Myungsoo could change his mind. It made Myungsoo feel better - steadier, more sure. He could change Sungyeol’s mind. This isn’t the end.

“I really don’t need this right now,” Myungsoo told him, shutting the door behind him quietly. “What the hell are you thinking?”

Sungyeol paused and just looked at him wordlessly.

Myungsoo felt his exhaustion grow several times heavier in an instant. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice. “Just - don’t.”

“I just don’t know - ” Sungyeol said, and then broke off, and there was silence because Myungsoo didn’t know what to say either.

He thought about the seven of them, of the days and nights of training, of perspiration and tears, and then of the sound of Sungyeol’s laughter - special, the way Sungyeol was. Inimitable. Unrivalled. There was nothing like it - like him. He exhaled, long and loud. “You can’t do this,” he said, and Sungyeol looked even more miserable. “You can’t do this, not now - not ever. Not to us.” Sungyeol opened his mouth to speak and Myungsoo cut him off. “Not to me.”

Sungyeol closed his mouth and looked away. His hands which were holding a stack of folded t-shirts trembled and Myungsoo saw the way his jaw was clenched, as if he was trying not to cry.

“It’ll be okay,” Myungsoo said, after a long silence. “Now put all this damn stuff back, so I can go and take a shower in peace.”

When Sungyeol didn’t do anything, Myungsoo reached out and took the stack of t-shirts from him. “The group needs you,” Myungsoo said. “And I - ” Sungyeol’s gaze darted to his face, sudden and curious.

“And I need you too,” Myungsoo said, trying to sound as light-hearted and insincere as he possibly could. “Now, will you please unpack all this?” he added quickly.

It was a few moments before Sungyeol reacted, but eventually, he took the t-shirts back from Myungsoo and stood up to put them back where they belonged. Myungsoo exhaled shakily as he felt the knot in his chest loosen at last.

Quietly, the two of them emptied the bags that Sungyeol had packed, returned everything to its proper place, and it was as if nothing had ever happened.

Myungsoo doesn’t know why this particular memory is surfacing now, out of nowhere, for no discernible reason, but it keeps replaying itself in his head - an endless loop of Sungyeol’s inquisitive, piercing gaze flickering to his face and Myungsoo saying I need you too in a rushed breath, trying his best to make it sound like nothing when the truth is that it is something.

Something significant and disarming and terrifying.

Myungsoo is idly looking through the photographs he’s taken over the past month when he finds himself on the verge of a panic attack. After yet another incredibly unflattering photograph of Dongwoo eating, a photograph of Sungyeol appears on the screen when he hits next. Myungsoo stares at it in confusion, wondering when did I take this? Then, clear as day, he remembers -

They are in the car, on the way home after a long day. Sungyeol is asleep next to Myungsoo. His head is resting against the window and bumps against the glass when the car drives over uneven ground but he shows no sign of waking. Myungsoo oscillates between dozing off and watching Sungyeol sleep through a haze of weariness. He drifts in and out of a light sleep, and as though in a dream, movements sluggish, he fumbles for his camera. He lifts it up and presses down on the trigger -

Myungsoo stares at the photograph with growing horror. He hits next quickly, but then he has to do it again and again and again, frantically, desperately, because the next four photographs are all of Sungyeol. Each one seems to zoom closer and closer and Myungsoo cannot shake the recollection -

His shoulder bumps against Sungyeol’s as the car moves along a bend. Sungyeol is warm next to him. The camera is a familiar and comforting weight in his hands, and Myungsoo peers through the viewfinder, his gaze tracing the outline of Sungyeol’s profile, and he leans in closer, as though pulled by some external force. Thoughts change shape in his head, adopting strange forms, half made of dreams and half of reality, and there’s a click as he presses the trigger again -

He slams his laptop screen down, his heart going mad in his chest. For good measure, he pulls the battery out. Breathing erratically, he backs away from the table, and the chant this is bad, this is very bad rattles in his head.

When his breathing finally returns to normal, Myungsoo turns on the laptop again, intending to delete the photographs, so no one can ever find them, so he can pretend they never existed, so he does not have to think about what they mean. But he ends up burying them in the depths of several folders instead, a bittersweet secret.

Sungyeol is crazy and strange and kind of a freak at times. It is entirely unacceptable for Myungsoo to think of him like this. Like he’s something other than what he is supposed to be. Like he’s more than what he is supposed to be. Like he’s something bright and precious. Like he’s weird and bizarre but somehow right.

It is entirely unfair that this should happen at all.

Unfair and unacceptable, but not unexpected - Myungsoo has to admit this. Sungyeol is crazy and strange and kind of a freak at times, he also talks more than he should and is far too noisy, but he is who he is. A presence that takes up way too much space. Important in a way that Myungsoo knows is different from anyone else but has never really stopped to truly consider.

They are friends and members and they live in the same house and now they share the same room, and Sungyeol is there all the time, and he is there if Myungsoo ever wants to reach out, and it’s driving Myungsoo insane. He goes to bed every night terrified that he will say something in his sleep and Sungyeol will hear it and his life as he knows it will be over.

All this has clearly driven Myungsoo completely round the bend, because they are in the practice room, rehearsing and all Myungsoo can think about is the look of focus on Sungyeol’s face and the way his hair is wet with sweat and - Sunggyu shouts at him when he messes up a third time, and thankfully that is enough to drive thoughts of Sungyeol out of his head for the rest of the rehearsal.

When it’s over, Sungjong leaves with the manager to buy drinks, and Woohyun and Sunggyu disappear for vocal practice. Myungsoo goes to wash his face and when he gets back, he realises that Howon and Dongwoo have vanished to God knows where, leaving Sungyeol alone in the room, staring at his phone intently.

“Come and see this,” Sungyeol says without looking up. Standing in the doorway, Myungsoo realises that Sungyeol always manages to do this - register Myungsoo’s presence without looking, even when Myungsoo is completely silent. Myungsoo is seized by a sudden curiosity as to whether Sungyeol can do this with anyone else.

Suddenly possessed by temporary insanity, he walks over, grabs the phone from Sungyeol and drops it onto the table. Before his mind can catch up with what he’s doing, he has Sungyeol backed against the wall. Sungyeol sputters into shocked silence, and it’s understandable - who wouldn’t be surprised to be slammed against the wall by your best friend, who has clearly abandoned all notions of personal space, leaning so close his nose is almost touching your own.

And then reality hits him like a bucket of ice-cold water, dousing him from head to toe, and he freezes in place, stomach curdling from mortification, and oh, he can feel Sungyeol’s heart going wild beneath his palm.

He can’t move away - he can’t move at all, and he’s staring at Sungyeol who is staring back, eyes wide and questioning. Their breaths mingle in the tiny sliver of space between their faces, and Myungsoo’s heart convulses in his chest as Sungyeol shifts a little, angling his head hesitantly.

Without letting himself think, he closes the rest of the distance between them and hears the Sungyeol’s sharp intake of breath. There’s a split-second pause, and then Sungyeol - unpredictable, strange and wonderful Sungyeol - has his hands on either side of Myungsoo’s face, one curving against his jaw and the other sliding slowly into his hair.

The kiss is clumsy and brilliant and Myungsoo grabs hold of Sungyeol’s wrist, needing to hold onto something, to anchor himself somehow. Sungyeol makes a muffled noise that is half-gasp and half-moan, and it flashes through Myungsoo, hot and electric. It’s too much and Myungsoo has to tear himself away - he stumbles backwards, his heart hammering so fiercely it actually hurt.

His hand trembles as he drags the back of it across his stinging mouth as he tries to find something to say.

Sungyeol stays plastered to the wall, and his eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere but Myungsoo. He swallows and seems to pull himself together somehow, and with renewed composure, he walks stiffly past Myungsoo, towards the door.

Myungsoo whirls around, heart leaping into his throat. “Where - where are you going!” he says, his voice ringing in the empty room. Don’t leave, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have, don’t hate me - he weighs the words on his tongue, wishing fervently that he didn’t just screw things up completely.

Sungyeol pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “To get more water,” he says.

“Oh,” Myungsoo says, and a seocnd later, they are rescued from awkward silence by Sungjong and their manager coming through the door, announcing the arrival of drinks and snacks.

Myungsoo spends the rest of the day with the thought he kissed back racing recklessly around in his head.

He has never really known how much of a coward Sungyeol really is until this.

Sungyeol doggedly avoids being alone with Myungsoo for two entire days after the kiss. Whenever Sungyeol has no choice and they are left alone with each other, Sungyeol fills the space between them with endless nervous chatter, so Myungsoo doesn’t even have a chance to talk about what happened.

Not that he wants to. Talk about what happened. Even if Sungyeol gave him a chance, Myungsoo has no idea what he would say.

He lies awake on the first night, testing sentences gingerly - explanations, apologies, confessions. None of them are good enough. He makes his way painstakingly through various attempts, and he is struggling with will you try this with me, please when he falls asleep.

The second night, Myungsoo stays up trying to figure out the best way to corner Sungyeol, when he hears movement from Sungyeol’s bed. Through the darkness, he sees Sungyeol sit up and then get out of bed. He holds his breath as Sungyeol tip-toes across the room, and slips quietly out of the door.

He throws his blankets off and follows Sungyeol out after a moment’s hesitation. Sungyeol is on his way to the kitchen, probably to get water, when the sound of Myungsoo shutting the door behind him scares him out of his skin. “Fuck,” Sungyeol manages as he scrambles away from Myungsoo, backing into a wall.

“What the hell,” he hisses when he squints and recognizes Myungsoo, and scowls fiercely. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Myungsoo whispers.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Sungyeol accuses, and turns on the lights, obviously still unnerved.

“Sorry,” Myungsoo repeats. He blinks rapidly as his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. He stands in the middle of the living room, watching Sungyeol pour himself a glass of water and finish it in a few gulps. The sight is mundane and commonplace but it fills Myungsoo with warmth. I know him, Myungsoo thinks. I know him better than anyone else does.

And then it hits him like a bolt of lightning, and everything makes sense. He goes into the kitchen and grabs Sungyeol’s elbow just as he is putting the glass down.

“Let me kiss you again,” Myungsoo says, and in the back of his mind, a tiny voice of protest is shrieking and now he is going to think that you are an insane pervert and you are never going to be able to kiss that terrible tempting mouth of his again!

Sungyeol’s mouth forms a surprised O.

“All this - you avoiding me so we can’t talk about what happened - you’re such a coward,” Myungsoo keeps his voice low, not wanting his voice to carry and wake someone else up. “I thought it was you saying no, but then I remembered that I know you and this can’t be a no, this is a yes but I’m scared - ”

“Shut up,” Sungyeol says.

“Come on,” Myungsoo whispers, barely audible. “Say yes.”

“If I am a coward, then you’re an idiot,” Sungyeol says. “Because it’s been yes for a long time.” He’s smiling, like he has won something, like this is a competition and he just beat Myungsoo. “Are you sure you know me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Myungsoo asks, but Sungyeol doesn’t answer - he grabs hold of Myungsoo’s chin with his free hand, jerking it up for a kiss.

Myungsoo lets go of Sungyeol’s elbow immediately, grasping Sungyeol’s shoulders so he doesn’t lose his balance. Thoughts dart through his head, chaotic and disorganized - I know you, I know you, only you could keep me awake agonizing over this, never leave, I’m so glad you stayed, I need you - and something tugs at Myungsoo, something that is supposed to make sense. I need you and you're always here. You stayed.

You stayed.

Myungsoo pulls away to catch his breath and thinks, he stayed even though he was serious about leaving. He stayed. That memory again - Sungyeol packing his bags, refusing to change his mind, Myungsoo trying his best, Myungsoo saying the group needs you, and I - that pause, that pause that made Sungyeol’s gaze snap to his face, searching, and Myungsoo saying I need you too and meaning it with all his heart even though he tried to make it seem like he didn’t but Sungyeol knows him. “You stayed,” Myungsoo breathes.

Sungyeol blinks at him, confused. “What?”

“Nothing,” Myungsoo says, starting to smile.

“Why are you laughing - stop smiling,” Sungyeol sounds annoyed. “What’s so funny - ”

Sungyeol talks too much and is far too noisy. He’s crazy and strange and Myungsoo wants him so much that it aches, and he is so exasperating and Myungsoo has to kiss him again just to stop his rambling.

Myungsoo knows that he is not someone who’s easy to understand. With people, even the ones that matter to him, he blows hot and cold. Sometimes, he can be cruel. He retreats into his own world every now and then, making it hard for anyone else to reach out to him.

And the truth is, he’s someone who is not easy to love either. It’s ironic, of course, since he’s an idol with legions of fans who openly declare their love for him. But they don’t know him. They see his brightest moments - sweet smiles, charming winks, arrogant smirks, a purposely casual hand tugging at his collar, exposing just enough skin - but not everything else. Not his infuriating stubborness, not his faults and weaknesses, not his unreasonableness.

He considers this while squeezed next to Sungyeol on his tiny bed, and he can’t help but wonder how Sungyeol makes it look so easy.

Years later, Myungsoo finally thinks to ask. “Did you stay because you loved me?”

Sungyeol looks up from his bowl of ramyun, arching an eyebrow. “I stayed because that was the first time I ever thought that maybe, you could possibly love me back. You gave me that maybe, and I couldn’t leave. Not after that. I had to stay.”

Myungsoo stares at him, food briefly forgotten. “Just for that maybe? That slight possibility?” he asks.

“It was worth it anyway,” Sungyeol shrugs, popping a dumpling into his mouth.

Myungsoo glances down at his ramyun and his jaw drops open. “That was my dumpling!” he shouts accusingly. “You stole it while I was distracted!”

Mouth still full of dumpling and ramyun, Sungyeol starts to giggle.

“You took advantage of me,” Myungsoo says, and as revenge, reaches over to grab Sungyeol’s chopsticks, holding them hostage.

Sungyeol tries to snatch them back, his face flushed pink from laughter and summer heat. Myungsoo waves the chopsticks teasingly in Sungyeol’s face before he throws them behind him. He laughs, watching Sungyeol get out of his seat to retrieve his chopsticks, calling Myungsoo names the entire time, and he understands - if it had been him, he, too, would have done anything for that maybe.

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