#3 [INFINITE, SUNGGYU/HOYA, SUNGGYU/WOOHYUN] PT 1
Fandom: Infinite
Title: Home Is Where The Heart Is
Rating: G
Pairing(s)/Focus: Sunggyu/Hoya, Sunggyu/Woohyun
Length: 19,420 words
Summary: This is a story about how Howon looks backward to the beginning, while Woohyun looks forward to fresh starts. Starring memories and soulmates and a lady in red, oh my!
Warnings: -none-
Notes: For reduxed: I hope you enjoy this remix of your very intriguing stories! And for R: thank you for putting up with my constant whining. Our next lunch is on me ^_^
Remixee author: reduxed
Titles and links to works you remixed:
how many times do I fly through your headspace - http://reduxed.livejournal.com/15155.html#cutid1
a good day for love to die - http://reduxed.livejournal.com/16675.html#cutid1
Howon covers Sunggyu's eyes from behind and leads him into a shadowed alcove; they've passed by this one countless times before but Sunggyu hasn't actually given it any thought. The subtle cooling of the air conditioner and the soft whisk of leather tells Sunggyu that for this place, whatever it is, obscurity is a choice.
"Already I can tell that this isn't the type of restaurant we usually eat at," Sunggyu says blindly as he hears a door open. There are quiet voices on the other side. And the gentle clicking of heavy dinner knives against expensive china. And the faint smell of good wine in the air. Howon's other hand squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. "What happened to good old McDonalds for dinner?"
"Don't you think we're past the fast food stage by now, old man?" Howon teases. "We certainly make enough." At thirty-five, Sunggyu has written enough songs under his name to live off the royalties, and that's on top of his steady job as a sound engineer. And Howon, at thirty two, has his own accomplishments under his belt. "I appreciate saving up for our future but sometimes we have to indulge in the present, don't we?"
Sunggyu sighs, chidingly long-suffering. "If you say so."
Howon guides him onto a chair before he removes his hand over Sunggyu's eyes. "I wanted to take you somewhere nice tonight," Howon tells him with a wide smile. Sunggyu looks very nice, too, in a pastel cream blazer that the subdued candlelight paints warm yellow. Howon's gift from before they left for dinner an hour ago.
Howon's idea of 'nice' is an out of the way little Greek place that serves the freshest seafood this side of the river, and this side of the river is where people go to if price isn't as much of a concern as quality. Somewhere along the way, sometime in the almost fifteen years they spent together, Howon had developed Taste.
"What's the occasion?" Sunggyu asks. Not that he wants there to be an occasion. This is kind of... nice. Dressing up and going out for a quiet candlelit dinner. Not that he would trade away the pizza and beer in front of the flatscreen TV or the grilled pork belly and copious amounts of soju.
The two tapered candles between them are perfectly at the same height, the small flames glowing evenly. In his head, Sunggyu draws the symbol of infinity around the halos.
"I haven't been completely honest with you," Howon begins, and Sunggyu doesn't even think of worrying about whatever it is that Howon is keeping from him; Howon's eyes are glinting with mischief and pride and a whole lot of adoration. Sunggyu has no idea why that last one is there, has no idea if the Sunggyu in Howon's eyes is the same Sunggyu who is sitting across the table. "Remember that big thing at work? The one I wouldn't tell you about?"
"The one that had you staying late at the office without texting me and I had to rush home to feed Nurungi every time?"
Howon's laughter, Sunggyu thinks, just makes him so much more handsome. It just isn't fair. "Yeah, that one. See, it started off as a project. But it ended up as-" Howon slides his business card over the table, and even in the dinner light Sunggyu knows he's never seen this one before, a lot less artistic and a whole lot more executive "-a promotion."
"Wow." That's all Sunggyu could say right now. Wow.
"I know, right?" Howon says and he's giggling like a kid, so full of excitement. Sunggyu lets himself be swept away with the sheer, overwhelming energy of Howon's happiness. "I can't believe this is actually happening."
"You deserve it," Sunggyu tells him, as if he hasn't said those same words every time anything good happens to them. "You deserve so, so much."
The house with the manicured lawn. The dance studio with mirrors on every wall and the most complete sound system Sunggyu has ever put together. The fully equipped recording booth in the basement. The dog, even if Nurungi likes to play in the mud.
"And you," Howon says softly, as if he knows exactly what Sunggyu is thinking. And maybe he does. "I'm living the dream. All those things? They're nice. But you? You're the dream. I love you, Kim Sunggyu. I love you a whole lot."
"Cheeseball," Sunggyu says just as softly, but it's all fondness.
They're living the dream.
And maybe... maybe it's time to let some other dream go. Maybe it's time to stop chasing that strange, nameless memory at night, the one he never catches, the one whose face he only half-recalls.
Tonight is the last night Sunggyu thinks of infinity.
From a shadowed booth at the very back, curtains hiding her well out of sight, a lady in a red evening gown watches them the whole night with stars in her eyes.
"Hey. It's you again." The voice is cracked at the edges. A teenaged body still growing, still trying to figure out how to deal with all these hormones.
It says something about Woohyun that he doesn't even have to turn his head to know who it is. "Yeah. It's me. Again." But he turns his head anyway if only to smirk at the not-stranger. The most he can work up is a grimace. Damn nerves. He should be used to this by now.
"Third time's the charm?" the not-stranger asks. Woohyun envies how casual he sounds, how confident he seems even though they're about the same age, even though they've both been through this before. He should be wallowing in anxiety, not walking around talking to other aspirant trainees like it's freshmen orientation day. Woohyun could picture him so easily in his school uniform. The sporty kind. Probably.
"More like-" Woohyun has never lost count "-seventh, actually."
"Ah." A sympathetic nod. "I guess you've been doing this longer than I thought." A weak attempt at lightness, so maybe not-stranger isn't so well put together after all. Maybe it's just a well-practiced mask.
"Maybe." Woohyun shrugs. "I've seen you a few times. I don't think I ever caught your name."
"You were 343. Then 682. And now you're," a quick glance at the number taped to Woohyun's shirt, "275. I don't know the ones before that."
Woohyun grins, actually grins despite the knot in his gut. "Do you always pay this much attention during auditions, or should I feel special?"
Another shrug. Not-stranger's shoulders, Woohyun thinks, are among his better features. "The latter. No one else here has your power vocals. That kind of thing sticks to you. I thought you were a sure thing when you were still 343. I thought you'd be an idol by now."
And just like that the knot throbs tighter, weighs heavier. "Thanks," he says. The grimace is back. "I thought you were too, with the way you dance."
"I guess we were both wrong." So laid back. As if they aren't talking about months of disappointment, of feeling unwanted, of mornings when eating breakfast suddenly turns into an exercise of remembering to breathe.
"I guess we were. Nam Woohyun, by the way," he volunteers. "So you don't have to call me by my number. You could have just asked."
"Lee Howon." They shake hands. Howon's eyes linger on the bracelet of braided leather around Woohyun's wrist. At the silver symbol for infinity near the center. "I'd usually say 'glad to see you again' but that's just wrong, you know?"
"Given the context, yeah," Woohyun manages to say after a short bark of laughter. They fall quiet after that but it's a form of companionable silence, a shared dread that Woohyun hasn't felt before. He usually makes it a point to go to these auditions alone. To bask in the triumph, he first told himself, but later it was more so no one would have to take pity on him and offer comfort. Not until he was ready.
Neither of them makes it. Neither of them is surprised.
~*~
The soup is simmering by the time Sunggyu dares to say anything. He's sitting at the foldable table where they usually eat and he's looking at his tea like he can read the leaves (never mind that he buys his tea in bags). "You're a much better vocalist than anyone out there."
"If I were," Woohyun snaps as he stirs seasoning into the jjigae, "I'd still be there going through training schedules and signing non-disclosure contracts." He can't look at Sunggyu right now. For all that's between them, he just can't right now. Over the months Sunggyu has gotten so much better at reading Woohyun but that doesn't mean he's already learned what to say.
"You can out-sing practically anyone," Sunggyu says placidly. (Except you, Woohyun thinks, and it's only part bitterness.) "You know that. But that doesn't count for anything in the idol market."
"I guess they just don't want me then. I mean, they should know, right? They're masters at knowing what people want." He means to say it objectively, maybe even with a shot at humor, but Woohyun's control over his voice has the weirdest sense of irony and Sunggyu's ears are sharper than his eyes. "I get it. I'm too short. I'm too dark. My teeth are weird. Nobody wants me and there's nothing I can do about that."
The snowflake that starts the avalanche. Sunggyu used to get mad at him whenever he puts himself down like this. He used to snap back and list the things that he loves about Woohyun, and Woohyun would hear the pity in Sunggyu's nagging and walk out because pity is something he has never learned how to deal with, and times like these he just doesn't want to deal with Sunggyu.
Sunggyu, who could do anything he puts his mind to. Who has never learned what it means to fail. Sunggyu, who could belt songs he's heard only once, whose grades never suffer, who never gets an order wrong, who manages to live his own life by paying for everything himself. Sunggyu, who is basically as awesome as anyone can get. And Woohyun, who is... not so much.
This time, though, Sunggyu slowly stands up and wraps his arms around Woohyun's waist, not minding that Woohyun smells like sweat and smoke and the alcove-turned-kitchen in his tiny apartment really isn't big enough for this. "Don't forget hairy. Too hairy, actually." Woohyun tries to jab his elbow against Sunggyu's stomach but the hug is too tight for that. "But I want you. And there's nothing you can do about that either."
"Sleezeball." Maybe he just wants to get lost in the moment. Maybe he just wants to forget school tomorrow or today's disaster or maybe even band practice with Myungsoo tonight, no matter how much he always looks forward to that. Maybe he just wants to bask in knowing that even though they haven't talked about what this thing between them actually is, Sunggyu touches him even if he doesn't touch anyone else. That despite Sunggyu's own schoolwork and his job at a milk tea place and then his underground rock band on top of that, Sunggyu still stays home and awake to eat Woohyun's cooking whenever he has a bad day. "Can we just. Not talk about this? Please?"
A lady in a red hoodie had nodded at him as he left the auditorium, as if to say 'don't be surprised' or even 'it'll be the same the next time'. Or maybe not, but that's how Woohyun felt and he'd rushed home and started chopping vegetables just to have something to do with his hands. Reality check: maybe he wasn't cut out for the spotlight.
But he has band practice in an hour. They both do. And school tomorrow. Life doesn't stop just because he failed an audition. As if that was anything new.
Sunggyu nods against the back of Woohyun's head, then he lets go and starts gathering the vegetable peels by the sink. Woohyun's messes never stay long because he always cleans up after he cooks but you could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu. Not that Sunggyu keeps a spotless home; it's just that whenever he's Thinking of Something he also needs to do something with his hands.
Sunggyu doesn't deserve him, Woohyun keeps joking about that to everyone. But - and this is just a thought - it's really the other way around.
~*~
sender: power vocals guy
I guess I'll see you again next time (9:52 p.m.)
sender: Lee Howon
I gues (9:53 p.m.)
U okay? (9:53 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
Aw I didn't know you cared~~ (9:54 p.m.)
sender: Lee howon
I dont (9:59 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
Harsh. But yeah (9:59 p.m.)
It's nothing new (10:00 p.m.)
Eleven years of hard work - his and Sunggyu's - has Howon wiping his sweat with the bottom of his shirt as he steps out of their condo bedroom-turned-studio after three solid hours of dancing. He leaves the music playing and walks barefoot down the hall to the kitchen, stopping only when he sees Sunggyu hunched over the stove and staring into a stainless steel pot.
Well. That's a new sight.
"I always thought we got those things for decoration," Howon says, and Sunggyu jerks in surprise to look at him. "We've been living here for so long but we haven't used those things even once. I'm actually thinking of giving them away."
Sunggyu snorts at the truth in that. Eleven years of living together and still neither of them ever learned how to cook. It doesn't matter, though, not with Howon's non-stop choreography gigs and the various projects Sunggyu sings or plays for; with all that, it's just easier to order in or get take-out. Leaves much less of a mess, too. "There's something wrong about a home without a fully functional kitchen," Sunggyu tells him again, as if they haven't had these same discussions two, three, seven, and ten years ago, or even back when they first considered sharing space. Eleven years.
Sunggyu's apartment back then had been tiny when Howon moved in, just right for a student working part time at a commercial milk tea shop and singing for an underground rock band at night. Having another person live there stretched what space there was to its seams, but living with Howon had let Sunggyu ease back on the hours, had allowed Sunggyu to take more time to rest and actually enjoy his youth. It wasn't exactly domestic bliss but Howon would never trade those years away for anything.
"Oh, so this is home now?" Howon teases.
"I guess so." Sunggyu examines their kitchen with a critical eye, as if he hadn't been the one to push Howon into agreeing to buy the pots, the various knives, the non-stick pans, the stove- everything, even the jade-layered kitchen table. The only things they ever use are the coffee maker and the toaster, and even those are used so infrequently that they're practically pristine. "I don't know how it happened, but yeah I guess this will do. Home is where you reek of sweat and the person living with you doesn't mind."
"You know my stink turns you on. What are you thinking of making anyway?" Howon lays an arm around Sunggyu's shoulders and peers into the pot. He can't decide whether to feel relieved or disappointed that the only thing inside is water. It isn't even boiling. "Provided that you actually manage to get the stove to work."
Sunggyu frowns into the pot, then at the ladle in his hand as if it had personally wronged him. "I was in the mood for jjigae."
"We have literally hundreds of restaurant numbers saved in our phones-"
"Homemade jjigae, okay? Like. Cutting up vegetables first then mixing stuff into the water and... Okay, I don't actually know how to make jjigae." Sunggyu sighs in defeat, takes the pot off the stove and pours the water down the sink.
"So why didn't you? I'm not saying I wouldn't eat it, but for the record: if I do I expect to be thanked for putting up with it."
The look Sunggyu aims at him is nothing short of amused disbelief, then he strides to the fridge and laughingly yanks the door open. "If you haven't noticed, jagiyah, it's kind of hard to cook anything if we don't have anything to cook in the first place."
The only things in the fridge are bottles of water, a few cartons of milk, and some leftover takeout. Sunggyu closes the fridge door and spreads his arms at Howon like he just proved his point. Which he did, but Howon's mind is on other things entirely.
They're thinking of moving into an actual house soon. One with a yard where they can have a dog (or maybe two) in a nice part of the city. And Howon can go to his job as head choreographer (someday) and they can have parties on the lawn and Sunggyu can record his own stuff in the basement studio he's always wanted to build.
"Hey." Gently, slowly, he pins Sunggyu against the fridge and plants a soft kiss on his jaw. "I'm happy. With us. With what we have. Even if we don't actually know how to keep house."
And like every time, Sunggyu takes a moment to breathe, a moment to look into Howon's eyes before kissing him back. "I'm happy, too. Even if you're so sweaty all the time."
And like every time, Howon ignores that wistful gaze in Sunggyu's eyes, that tiny pause before he says anything. That moment when he looks like he suddenly realizes that he's talking to Howon and not someone else, and that it's always been Howon, and that yeah, maybe they are in love. And happy. If that means anything.
Howon has lived with that for eleven years. It hasn't bothered him since their second anniversary, never mind that Sunggyu insists on not celebrating their anniversaries (but they do, anyway). He'd hoped that it would go away, but if it's still there after all these years then it's probably there to stay.
Some people aren't lucky enough to get everything they want. But then, Howon knows that he already has a lot.
~*~
Howon's phone rings just as the elevator door slides open. He waves goodbye to the rest of his dance troupe and tries to remember where he parked. Being a senior choreographer means he could bring his own car to work, but that doesn't mean he has a parking slot named after him.
"Hey, princess," Howon greets as he walks to one of the farther corners. It's always the only space available by the time he gets to work.
"It's nice to know that you respect me as much as you love me," Sunggyu huffs.
"I treat you like royalty." And that's true enough. "I'm your knight in shining armor."
"Don't delude yourself, you're like the court jester or something. The fool."
"I've always been a fool for you, you know that."
Sunggyu's groan is of perfectly practiced misery. "Don't you ever get tired of being so greasy?"
"You say that like you don't find it so charming." There's more than one reason why Howon chose to own a purple car but high on that list is that no one else does. It's definitely easy to identify in a crowded parking lot. He tosses his gym bag to the back seat and climbs in behind the wheel.
"I refuse to incriminate myself," Sunggyu retorts primly. "I'm downtown, by the way. Coffee."
"I thought you swore off that thing."
"You know that production meeting I had today? Some things are just too stressful to think about without coffee. It's like you and-and knitting, I guess."
"Fair enough. Should I pick you up?" Howon starts the engine.
"Or we could hang out." Sunggyu says it like it's a suggestion but Howon hears the request for what it is. Sunggyu doesn't ask for much, always thinks that he can bear the weight of his world on his shoulders, so during the few moments when he does ask for something Howon always gives it to him.
Even the small things. Like having coffee somewhere before heading home. "Or yeah, we could hang out. Where to?"
"You know that tattoo place we found in Hongdae?"
Howon stares at his phone as if Sunggyu's face is live on the screen. "Wait, I thought we were getting coffee-"
"There's a coffee shop about two blocks down from it. Afters, I think it's called. Apparently it's been there for decades and I can't believe I've never actually tried it."
Afters
Does he-
But it's been years. What are the odds that... that guy will be there?
Howon tells himself that the chill in his spine doesn't mean anything. Sunggyu just wants coffee and he works with a lot of indie music types who maybe mentioned the place and it doesn't mean more than that. "Seriously? There's a Café Bené around the corner from our place and it's usually pretty quiet at this time of day."
"I know, I know. It's just that... I want to try this place out." There's frustration in Sunggyu's voice. Not at Howon, more likely at some vague thoughts at the back of his head, the part he never finds the right words for. "Who knows, maybe they actually serve the good stuff. But if you're tired, I can just grab some coffee and go home right after."
"No, no, don't worry about it," Howon says, grinning to convince himself. "I'll be there in a few minutes."
~*~
It's still the same place. All these years and it's still the same place. There's new art on the walls, the paint isn't chipping like he last remembers, the tables and chairs aren't as rickety, and they're serving gelato instead of ice cream now. But it's still the same place.
The small raised platform at the corner of the shop. A couple of mic stands. Still there. Clean, but they look like they haven't been used in a long time. Safe. Howon lets himself breathe easier.
"Really cozy," Sunggyu says as soon as Howon sits across from him. "I like how the place feels so... familiar."
There are paintings on the walls with price tags on the frames. Looks like someone couldn't interest a real gallery so they're showcasing their stuff several steps down the ladder instead. Howon and Sunggyu are sitting below a watercolor painting of a field of tiny pink brambles and for some reason the artist had titled it The Flowers of Forgetting.
Howon is a choreographer for an idol label. He has no idea how a painter's mind works.
"Like you've been here before?" Howon asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Almost. If that means anything." Sunggyu shrugs. A waitress brings him his cup of black and Howon a cup of something piled high with whipped cream. "You sounded stressed out on the phone. I thought you could do with some cheering up."
"It's super effective!" Howon sips at the whipped cream, making sure to coat his lips messily that way that always has Sunggyu scrunching his nose and not believing that he's living with someone so messy. But unlike before when Sunggyu just laughed and tossed paper napkins, now Sunggyu sighs at him, long-suffering but willing to put up with much more as Howon licks his lips clean. "How's your production thing coming along?"
The way Sunggyu stares into his cup makes him look so endearing. Howon would be cooing (to himself) if Sunggyu didn't look like a particularly anxious hamster. Like he knows Howon won't like whatever he has to say. Like Howon has never assured him that they were safe with each other, that they should be able to say whatever they want without fear of how the other person would react. Always getting ahead of himself.
They've changed so much over the years and they're still together despite everything that happened, and if there's one thing Howon learned it's that he could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu.
They're long past words of reassurances by now. Sunggyu has to remember it by himself. Has to remember that Howon has always been there. Will always be there.
Howon waits quietly, watches with all the fondness he can muster to show in public while Sunggyu works through the jumble of voices in his head, trying to find an anchor of stability to hold on to.
The waitress from earlier brings samplers of their new gelato flavors. A delivery boy arrives with cartons of paper napkins. A lady in a red miniskirt comes in and takes a seat by the windows. Howon's phone beeps with a message but he ignores it for now.
Some of the other patrons are jeering at each other by the time Sunggyu speaks up. Howon leans closer to hear him clearly. "All these times I tell you that I'm happy, you know that I mean it right? You, me, the flat... even the kitchen we never use?"
Howon nods. There are already too many voices in Sunggyu's head, each one trying to be heard over the others; adding one more, even if it's his voice, won't be so helpful.
"I'm happy. My life is awesome and I'm living it with a guy who's even more awesome." Sunggyu's hand starts to move, and maybe it's a nervous habit or maybe he doesn't even know he's doing it, but whenever the voices in his head are particularly bad he always finds something to do with his hands. Right now, in the absence of an instrument to play or anything to write with, Sunggyu's fingers are drawing a symbol on the varnished table. Howon watches it carefully. "It's just that... I have these dreams sometimes. And they're not the kind of dreams where you're looking for a happy ever after - I already have that. These are... weird. Like those dreams where you're being chased by werewolf cabbages? Only this time, instead of being chased, I'm the one doing the chasing. Only I don't know who I'm chasing. But I know that I have to catch him. I have to. Or else."
"Or else?"
"I don't know. Just... or else." Sunggyu raises his eyes and sees the amused concern on Howon's face. Then he laughs, breaks his own moment, and takes a sip of his coffee to hide his embarrassment. "Man, this new MV is really messing with me. And to think that I thought it was cool."
Howon leans back against his chair. He'd known, of course, about these dreams. Sunggyu used to talk in his sleep whenever they had too much to drink, and then there were the mornings after particularly tiring days when the line between dreaming and waking was too blurred before Sunggyu had his first cup of coffee. Howon had known even if he hadn't said a thing. Sunggyu is entitled to the privacy of his own head. Like Howon is entitled to his.
"We'll be doing a chase theme," Sunggyu is saying by the time Howon pulls himself back to the conversation. "The director likes action sequences and apparently he thought the music sounded like a good background for-"
"-is this thing on? Hello?"
"Hyung, can you be even more cliché?"
There are two guys on the stage. One of them is tuning an acoustic guitar while the other one is smiling at the confused café patrons-turned-audience with a microphone held to his mouth. "Hey, lucky people of Afters! You happen to be just in time for-"
No fucking way.
That easy confidence. So readily recognizable even if Howon hasn't seen him in years.
Sunggyu is staring at the vocalist as if he should know that face. As if they've met before and he's trying to remember where. And Sunggyu's mind has always been very sharp.
"We should go," Howon says abruptly.
"Won't that be rude?" Sunggyu says, still looking searchingly at the man's effortless grin. As if there are secrets there that he needs to read.
"They sing at a coffee shop. I'm sure they're used to it." Howon pulls his wallet out and slips bills under his cup. "Come on."
Sunggyu's face scrunches like he wants to insist on staying, but just like how Howon doesn't judge him for weird dreams, he doesn't judge Howon for sudden mood swings.
The lady watches them go.
"-great that this place is still around, yeah?" the man was saying into the microphone by the time they're at the door. "We haven't played here in years but what the heck, there's always time for a little nostalgia right? This is Kim Myungsoo on the guitar and I'm-"
They get in to Howon's car without saying a word.
They stop for take-out on the way home ("Anything but jjigae," was Howon's request so they get chicken barbeque instead), and by the time they're eating dinner the little café was already gone from their minds.
But earlier, back when he was struggling to find words for a dream he doesn't understand and his fingers were appreciating the smoothness of the table's varnished wood, Sunggyu was tracing the symbol for infinity.
Woohyun's "band" is technically just him on vocals and Myungsoo with an acoustic guitar, plus a generous side helping of Sungyeol for (im)moral support and occasionally as their band manager. A handful of students looking for bigger things than just studying for exams and studying harder for harder exams.
They all wanted to be idols once. But that's before Myungsoo discovered that people actually pay photographers and Sungyeol got kicked out of SM. Now they just play at coffee shops while Sungyeol goes through the various essays he's editing for his online tutoring thing. Not that they need the money for their music: Myungsoo earns enough from his photography gigs, Sungyeol is quickly becoming notorious for his merciless crusade for quality essays, Woohyun still receives regular allowances from his brother, and they're all sharing the same apartment (even if Woohyun stays over at Sunggyu's often enough; he doesn't trust Sunggyu to live alone). And then there's the fact that cafes don't really pay that much for freelance musicians in the first place. This band is a hobby. An outlet for the artists in them. When they say they don't do it for the money, they really mean it.
Myungsoo is staring intently at the screen of his laptop when Woohyun arrives at their flat. Sungyeol is stretched out on the too-small sofa indulging in a crumbling paperback.
Once, Woohyun heard Myungsoo say that home is where he can get lost in his head and not say a word for hours and the people living with him wouldn't find it odd. He was looking at Sungyeol the whole time. Woohyun had to refrain himself from calling out how sickeningly sweet the whole thing was.
Woohyun loves how these two just don't react to things. It gives him an excuse to announce his presence. Loudly. "Is it too much to expect that you should-"
"Shhh," Sungyeol hisses.
"-already be warming up by the time your-"
"Shhhhhh."
"-vocalist arrives to bring joy to your otherwise-"
"Shhhhhh!"
"-unexciting life? How do you expect to keep-"
Sungyeol takes his eyes off his book to pack as much venom as he could into a single glare.
"-up with my sheer brilliance if-"
"I'm done," Myungsoo says with a few finalizing clicks of his mouse. "Are you?"
Woohyun's grin is nothing but wolfish. "Myungsoo-ya, you should know by now that I am never done."
"How does Sunggyu-hyung live with you," Sungyeol mutters as he pulls himself up to a sitting position and tosses his paperback to the top of a pile of assorted stuff at the corner. "He's the most anal person I know and yet he seems so besotted."
Myungsoo speaks up before Woohyun manages to affirm the 'anal' part of Sungyeol's comment. "He's pretty quiet around Sunggyu-hyung," Myungsoo says as he reaches for his guitar. "I've seen them. He's subdued."
"Whatever goes on between me and Gyu is our business."
"As if you don't tell us all the time anyway," Sungyeol answers with a snort.
"Because I know you two are just dying to learn stuff that you haven't tried for yourselves yet."
"I've been practicing a few new songs," Myungsoo commandeers the conversation as he plucks a few notes from the nylon strings. "I thought it might be nice to add new stuff to our list."
Practice, as always, is just Myungsoo playing through their repertoire while Woohyun sings along and Sungyeol listens to them intently. "This is a musical chemistry thing," Sungyeol said once, "not a technical thing. You need to have soul. That's the kind of music that café people want to hear." He's already acknowledged that music just isn't his thing, but that doesn't dull the part of his mind that knows entertainment, the part that can tell by instinct what people will like. His critiques are less "You went flat there" or "You were half a beat off" and more "You look bored, don't do that" and "Why are you smiling? That isn't a happy song."
But by and large, it seems to work. That seems to be Sungyeol's place in the scheme of things. Sungyeol knows quality. He's the only person Myungsoo ever shows pre-treated pictures to. Everyone else has to wait.
A photograph on the crate-turned-coffee table catches Woohyun's eye. "What's this?"
"Huh?" It's unfair how Myungsoo still looks pretty no matter how scrunched up his face is. "Just a throwaway shot, no big deal."
Woohyun rolls his eyes. "Sure, wasting photo paper on some no big deal, perfectly reasonable."
Sungyeol guffaws loudly at that while Myungsoo just grins pleased. "Apparently, it's a dildo," Sungyeol says.
"It's not," Myungsoo snaps, suddenly affronted. "It's an ancient artifact celebrating fertility, okay. Hunters from Africa whittled it from ivory and presented it to their partners three months before they start conceiving-"
"Dildo!"
But Woohyun isn't looking at the ivory implement... thing. Whatever it is. There's a lady in the background examining a pair of red teacups. The camera hadn't been focused on her but Woohyun could still make out enough details to be sure. The memory is clear.
A quick nod beneath her red hood.
What are the odds.
"Is there a problem, hyung?"
Woohyun pulls himself back to the present. Myungsoo has a foot on Sungyeol's face while Sungyeol looks like he's contemplating biting it off. "Nothing," Woohyun says. "Nothing. Hey, think we can go through that last song again?"
Myungsoo lets go of Sungyeol and reaches for his guitar. They're through the first verse of a song about starlight falling when Sungyeol snaps his fingers deliberately off beat to catch their attention. "This looks promising."
"What?" Myungsoo drops the song and scrambles to Sungyeol's side, and normally Woohyun would join in but he doesn't trust what he'll see in Sungyeol's laptop.
(Once is enough. He still has nightmares about it. Although Sunggyu only looked thoughtful when Woohyun mentioned it. He's always wondered what Sunggyu's silence could mean.)
"There's a place in Hongdae that's looking for a new act," Sungyeol says. He catches Woohyun's eye. It's pretty near where Sunggyu-hyung sings. Afters. Interested?"
Woohyun grins gamely. "It's worth a shot."
~*~
sender: Lee Howon
Hey. R u busy (4:32 p.m.)
I hav a sugstion (4:34 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
Can you *please* text properly? I don't normally associate with illiterate grade schoolers. (4:36 p.m.)
sender: Lee Howon
Eltst (4:37 p.m.)
Sorry, i mean "elitist" (4:38 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
That's an improvement. What's up, though? (4:38 p.m.)
sender: Lee Howon
There are auditions next month. I have a proposition (4:39 p.m.)
~*~
The studio Howon dances in is seven blocks away from where Sunggyu's band normally plays. Woohyun is fairly familiar with the area even if he hasn't been to this specific section of the neighborhood - it's not exactly his scene (not that he's the type to settle for just one scene), but Sunggyu likes the area and Woohyun likes to walk around when he isn't as busy as usual.
The studio itself is underground, connected to the world via shallow stairs hidden behind a door carefully camouflaged by graffiti. Woohyun has to clamp down hard on his claustrophobia as he descended the steps.
He's just glad he told Sunggyu where he's going in case Howon turns out to be a psycho killer who takes out his competition, but then he realizes (too late) that Sunggyu knowing the last place Woohyun went to won't exactly be much help for Woohyun anyway. Not if he's already-
But Woohyun's imagination is oddly disappointed when Howon opens the door and there are no ropes or knives or blunt instruments waiting for them. It's just... an empty room. There's a beat-up old stereo in one corner. A few pictures of people dancing taped to the walls. A few boxes piled on top of each other.
"Who actually owns this place?" is the first thing Woohyun asks as he sets his bag on a rickety wooden bench right beside the door. There's a potted plant at the other end. Woohyun doesn't know what kind it is.
"Don't know," Howon answers with an easy shrug. "My friend said he's been using the place for years and he's never been kicked out. We used to dance here together here all the time, but that was before he moved to Canada. So now it's just me. It's a little rustic but it feels like home sometimes."
"That's one way of putting it."
There's only one mirrored wall and the florescent light is nowhere bright enough and the room easily smells like sweat since the only exhaust is a small window at level with the ground outside, and all in all Woohyun has been to better studios even if he doesn't get to stay in them long enough to matter.
Howon laughs, more at himself than at Woohyun. "Home is where you can play Justin Bieber and not worry about being judged."
But it's here and it's free. And if Woohyun learns how to dance before the next auditions, then maybe...
"I don't have a keyboard," he tells Howon immediately. "So I can't teach you here. But my friend has one at home so I can teach you to sing there."
"That's fine." Howon walks a careful circle around him, his eyes scanning every inch of Woohyun's body. Woohyun would feel self-conscious if it isn't so detached. So clinical. So… appraising. "We've got a lot of work to do."
"What the hell," Woohyun yelps in indignation. "You haven't even seen me dance at all."
"Don't have to," Howon says as he stands beside Woohyun and looks at both of their reflections. "See the difference between us? See how I'm standing versus how you're standing? It's plain as day."
Woohyun bristles. "If you're just going to-"
"I'm here to help you out," Howon interrupts him. "Will you just listen to me? I'm not taking this personally, this is really how I see you as a dancer. Feel free to point out all my flaws when you're teaching me how to sing, but this is dancing and I'm me and you're you, okay?"
Some memories stay fresh and raw too long. Woohyun's worst dreams are always about rejection. It's a reality check he faces in the mirror every day.
"Okay, Mr. Power Vocals?" Howon nudges him.
Howon makes perfect sense. It's the kind of thing Sunggyu would have said. Woohyun takes a deep breath and lets it all out in one steady hiss. "Okay. Let's do this."
The stereo's speakers are loud enough for what they need. Woohyun is just breaking out a sweat when the door opens and a familiar hamster face peers in and squints at them. Beside him, Howon freezes in the middle of the body wave he's teaching Woohyun how to pull off.
Woohyun, on the other hand, jerks his body straight and spins on his heel to face Sunggyu. "Hyung."
Sunggyu raises an eyebrow at him, and somehow Sunggyu manages to look so much more severe than he really should. "Why did you stop? I didn't want to interfere."
"No, I just..." don't want you to see me like this, Woohyun wants to say. Even though Sunggyu knows Woohyun wants to be an idol, Sunggyu hasn't actually seen him do more than pose and strut. There has never been any dancing between them and for good reason.
They're vocalists. It's a mark of pride, even if Woohyun's is negotiable.
He fights down the embarrassment with the knowledge that he and Sunggyu have so many more compromising memories between them. And that Sunggyu isn't the type of person to care about these things. Much.
"Just came to check on you," Sunggyu explains. He opens the door wide, taking in the rest of the studio while Howon tones the music down. "And I might be home late tonight if you're planning on sleeping over. We have to show up at a party after the show but I won't stay too long. Unless you want to come with?"
"I have something to do," Woohyun tells him. "Homework. And Myungsoo has some new stuff I need to learn. This is Howon, by the way."
Howon, though, isn't saying anything. Woohyun catches him looking at the silver infinity symbol Sunggyu is wearing around his neck. Then at the same symbol around Woohyun's wrist. Then... a look of dawning realization.
"So that's your name," Sunggyu says as he stands in front of Howon, and Howon looks up at him with his eyes carefully shuttered. "Are you coming to the show tonight?"
"Yeah," Howon blurts out. "Haven't missed one yet, have I? Won't start now."
"Great. I don't know why you aren't completely sick of us by now but it's not something for me to complain about." Then to Woohyun, "You sure you don't want to come? It's free dinner at least."
"You two know each other?" This time, it's Woohyun's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I'm a big fan," Howon says. "I've been watching every performance since I moved here. I don't know why, though," he adds with a teasing grin. "They haven't released any new material since half a year ago."
"Well aren't you impatient," Sunggyu chuckles as he flicks Howon's forehead with a finger. "Know your place, fan. And we never fail to blow your brains out even with old material. Last call for tonight, Woohyunie."
"I'll pass, hyung."
"I knew I made the right choice in reaching out to you," Howon says as Sunggyu's footsteps fade up the stairs. His laugh is easy and light-hearted but the musician in Woohyun knows that this laugh is forced. "So my favorite co-auditioner happens to be living with my favorite singer. Imagine that. No wonder you have such astounding vocals."
Woohyun bristles at the implication. "Not everything I can do came from Sunggyu-hyung," Woohyun says. There's caution in his voice. Howon hears it and the amusement in his eyes dies down. "You've seriously been watching all their shows?"
"Since I moved from Busan."
Howon is looking at Woohyun's wrist again with an unreadable glint in his eyes... and something in Woohyun stirs. Casually, carefully casually, he hides his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants. The way Howon is looking at the symbol - had looked at the same symbol around Sunggyu's neck - doesn't sit right with Woohyun. "We should get back to dancing."
"Yeah," Howon agrees. He sounds like he's pulling himself out of deep thought. "We should."
Howon is hanging up the last frame when Sunggyu walks into the apartment with this week's groceries in his arms. "And what's that supposed to be?"
"Care to take a guess?" Howon's grin is completely mischievous.
It's possible that Sunggyu is rolling his eyes at him, but it's really hard to tell even during the best of days. "Not right now," he huffs as he heads straight for the kitchen and Howon shakes his head with a full-blown smile. You could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu.
"Does it have anything to do with what day it is?" Sunggyu asks loudly as he puts the groceries away, and by 'groceries' they just mean microwave dinners and the stash of Oreos that Sunggyu claims is for himself but Howon always ends up eating anyway. And milk. But it's mostly microwave dinners. They should probably learn how to cook soon.
"It's always appropriate to celebrate Wednesdays."
"Celebrate it enough to redecorate? Enough to hang seven very nice frames in the living room, all of which has pictures of us?"
Howon's smile is sharp at the edges and is growing wider and wider. "We should always reinvent ourselves and our living space. And thanks, I had to drive across the city just for these frames."
The sound of a drawer being shut. Sunggyu reappears in the living room and leans against their hastily constructed shelf full of Sunggyu's audio engineering textbooks; Howon just hopes the cheap plywood doesn't choose now to break. "So these new pictures - which are all about just the two us, by the way - they have nothing to do with... I don't know, something that happened seven years ago?"
Howon raises his eyebrows in ignorance. He hasn't exactly practiced acting in any way but he knows he has enough control over his face to fake his way through things. "Oh, really? What could have happened on this exact date seven years ago?"
"I don't know. You tell me." Nobody can deadpan quite as flatly as Kim Sunggyu.
Howon throws himself on the couch, bouncing once before settling in and patting the space beside him. Sunggyu does that eye thing again, gives him one of his long-suffering sighs before sitting down and letting himself be wrapped in Howon's arms. "Happy anniversary," Howon whispers to Sunggyu's neck.
"Oh, is that what this is about?" After all these years away from the microphone, Sunggyu's control over his voice is only enough to sound moderately disbelieving. "I thought it was for something, you know, important."
"I can see why you would think that, but nah, it's nothing big." Howon hugs him tighter and just... breathes in, breathes deep. Breathes Sunggyu and holds the air in his chest as long as he can.
"Seven years," Sunggyu trails off. "Imagine that. Seven years since you went crazy."
"Crazy for you, you mean."
"I don't think I can ever mean anything so-"
"Greasy?"
"Amazing, you read my mind." But Sunggyu turns his head and they spend a moment looking into each other's eyes. And fine, it's such a cheesy moment, something straight out of an afternoon soap opera, but cliché is cliché for a reason and just like that Sunggyu is leaning in and kissing Howon as if those seven years were just yesterday. "Happy anniversary, sleezeball."
"I'm the only sleezeball for you."
"Ho-hum," Sunggyu says, but Howon hears it as You know it, and they're quiet again for a while.
This isn't the first time that Howon put his talent for handicrafts to good use. Howon may dance like his body is living off sheer electricity, but home is where his knitting needles can click peacefully all day.
But something in Sunggyu clicks - Howon can feel it through their unspoken connection - and he pulls back, looks into Howon's eyes and there's surprise there. A question. Howon can read it so easily. Not that Sunggyu is so open; it's just the Howon has a lot of practice.
Is this real? Sunggyu's eyes are asking. Is it really... you?
But out loud what Sunggyu says is, "Jagiyah?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you happy?"
Howon hums thoughtfully. "Have I ever complained in seven years?"
"No. I don't think so."
"Then I guess I am."
~*~
"Have you seen my old hard drives? The ones from two years ago?"
Howon freezes the dance video he's studying. Sunggyu is standing by the bedroom door with a handful of old thumb drives and dusty connector cables and a thoroughly frazzled look on his face. It isn't fair how Howon finds it so adorable. "Didn't we stash them in a box somewhere?"
Sunggyu grimaces. "Very helpful."
"No, seriously, I remember putting them in with my stash of-- hard drives."
Howon's pause is just too pregnant with possibilities. "Hard drives?" Sunggyu repeats neutrally.
"Yes," Howon responds equally plainly.
"Hard drives," Sunggyu says again, this time with finger quotes.
"Yeah. Hard drives." Howon studiously doesn't look at Sunggyu's fingers.
Sunggyu nods slowly. "I think I remember cramming a box under the bed when we moved here." He turns on his heel back to the bedroom, but before he realizes what's going on Howon crashes into him, throws him onto the bed and pins him down effortlessly.
"What do you want with my hard drives?" Howon asks, his breath tickling the tip of Sunggyu's nose. (He's been smoking a lot less, Sunggyu notes proudly.) Howon's lips are quirked with the childhood mischief he hasn't quite grown out of yet. "They're very personal hard drives."
And at that, Sunggyu breaks up laughing. "I don't want anything from your hard drives, okay," he wheezes breathlessly. "I'm looking for my old stuff, not whatever it is you're keeping." He lets Howon kiss him deeply. Lets Howon brush his tongue against Sunggyu's. Lets Howon gently nibble at his lower lip.
"Well. In that case." Howon sits back and lets him go.
There aren't that many boxes under the bed. They find the hard drives in a box carefully labeled 'stuff stuff stuff'. Howon used a lot of imagination in labeling their boxes when they moved years ago. ("I'm a dancer, not a writer!" he justified.)
"What's in that thing anyway?" Howon asks. They didn't touch Howon's hard drives.
"Some old mixes for background noise, a few really obscure tracks." He connects the device to his laptop and waits for everything to load. "Plus a few favorite recordings that I haven't used yet. Remember that time you went sky diving and I strapped a mic to your cheek?"
"Vividly."
"Of course," Sunggyu chuckles. "I love that track but I haven't used it anywhere."
Howon's heart still rushes at the memory. He'd have loved for them to jump together but Sunggyu put his foot down while he still had anything to put it down on and Howon didn't push him. Still... it was a rush. "So you've found a use for it now?"
Sunggyu loads the track and plays it long enough to make sure that it's still working before copying the file to his computer. "We're doing a show about falling. I think this will be appropriate. Specially that part where you can hear the wind rushing and everything's noisy and suddenly there's this loud whoosh! when you open the parachute, and then... almost complete silence and there's only you breathing loudly?" Sunggyu's eyes are still on the screen but it's so obvious that he can see so much more. It's like he was right there beside Howon when he was free-falling to the ground. "There's nothing like that. Ever."
Despite working with singers and idols and dancers and technicians and everyone else in the battalion of resources within the entertainment industry, Howon has never met anyone as passionate about sound as Kim Sunggyu. "Good thing I didn't swear, then."
"Small blessings," Sunggyu agrees. "I told the team all about it and they can't wait. They're bringing in this other guy, too. He's doing his graduate degree on memory. So he'll be talking about how memories during heightened emotional states aren't reliable. Can't remember the name, exactly. Nam something?"
Howon's blood runs cold.
"Nam Woolim? Wooyoung? Woo-something."
Howon forces his face to calm down before looking at Sunggyu and he sees exactly what he expects: Sunggyu's eyebrows are scrunched with the effort of remembering.
"Wanna go out for dinner?" Howon says a little too quickly, a little too loudly.
Sunggyu's face crumples slightly as part of his thoughts get derailed. "We have perfectly good food in the fridge."
"Microwave dinners are food, I concede to that, but I don't think I can describe them as 'perfectly good'," Howon points out. "Come on, hyung, can't work on an empty stomach. It wouldn't kill us to eat something healthy every once in a while."
Sunggyu sighs deeply. Howon waits. It doesn't take long: he knows Sunggyu very well, especially after all these years.
"I suppose so," Sunggyu says, defeated. As if health wasn't important until Howon reminded him.
They each grab their coats. The faint memory of the name is gone faster than they're out the door.
~*~
"I don't get it, hyung." Sungjong's exasperation is clear as day, even on the phone. "For years you've been telling everyone that Sunggyu-hyung just wants to be a sound engineer, but now suddenly you want us to quote-unquote scout him?"
"Sungjongie." Howon isn't the type of person to whine, and if he were he certainly isn't the type to whine to a dongsaeng. So this is Howon not-whining at Sungjong. "Come on, you know how talented your Sunggyu-hyung is, you've heard him sing."
"At noraebang!"
"And he's good! And that's just noraebang! Imagine how great he can be with all the training your team can heap on him." Howon is pacing at a corner of the studio while the idols he's training are catching their breaths. So maybe he's a little bit too manic today. Maybe he's too manic to care right now.
Someone from the production team is discussing tomorrow's schedule to various noises of disappointment. Howon tunes them out, even as a lady with a red file case hands out their scripts.
Sungjong hums like he's thinking about it. As if he hasn't said the very same things to Howon in vain hopes that he'll change his mind. "I'll have to check with my team. I mean, we're looking to form an a cappella R&B group and we already have buy-ins from a couple of producers. But I don't think that's Sunggyu-hyung's type of music?"
"You know he can sing anything he wants to."
"I'm not doubting his talent, hyung, I'm doubting how deeply he'll engage to this. You work with idols, right? You know how draining it can be to perform something you don't particularly feel anything for."
Howon pauses at the thought.
"But." Sungjong is so obviously torn between acquiring a tremendous talent to work for them and that talent being his least favorite, completely overbearing hyung. "I'll have to talk to my teammates. We'll see."
"Thanks, Sungjongie! How quickly can you set it up?" Howon is grinning too brightly for the heartless dance master persona that he puts up for his trainees. He'll have to give them hell later. Just to be sure. They should be used to it by now, anyway.
A long-suffering sigh that threatens to match Sunggyu's. "We'll see."
~*~
"So I got a call from Sungjong this afternoon."
"Oh? What did he want?"
"Apparently? Me."
It's one of those moments when they're both tired but not yet spent and they're riding the high as far as it would go. Everything about the world looks nice from up here. They'd been panting, breathless in that way only they can do to each other, and in just a short while they're... quiet. Content. Arms around each other, legs entangled.
Howon raises his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling. "I should probably feel jealous right now, but. It's Sungjong. And I know he doesn't want you that way, not after everything you put him through."
"He wants to sign me up, dumbass!" Sunggyu pinches him in the waist and Howon winces hey, ow! his skin is always a little too sensitive immediately afterward. "Can you believe that?"
"Wow. So suddenly?"
"Apparently they're putting a group together and they're looking for someone with my range." Sunggyu's breathing is deep. Like he wants to capture as much of this as he could, and he doesn't let go for as long as he can. "I told him yes. So there's an interview tomorrow and an audition for formality, then after that it's straight rehearsals, one after another."
"What about your job, though? Not that I'm not happy for you - I know you've always wanted this. But you were also pretty happy working purely with sound."
"I know, I know. But this is singing, Howon. I've already talked to my boss. They're getting one of the other audio guys to replace me on that falling project but I had to promise them that they could use my track even if I'm no longer on it. And I won't be employed as a full headcount so technically I'll still be working for them. That way if this singing thing doesn't pan out I still have a day job to return to." But even if Sunggyu is trying to sound light, his anxiety makes itself known through the quiet timbre of his voice. And the unseen infinity he's tracing on the skin of Howon's arms.
"It'll work out." Howon kisses Sunggyu's chest, wanting to press the reassurance straight into Sunggyu's heart. The Sunggyu Howon knows - and he knows Sunggyu very well - never fails at anything.
And so soon Sunggyu is squirming, gasping, cupping the back of Howon's head. "You sound so sure." He sounds so breathless again.
"I am sure." Howon moves lower, to that spot just below Sunggyu's chest where Sunggyu's so ticklish when they're doing anything else. "It'll work out." Sunggyu arcs up against him, pressing warm bodies together and Howon indulges, works him up slowly, thoroughly, with hands and lips and tongue and breath. Howon guides Sunggyu deep inside and rides him all the way 'til dawn.
He doesn't say a word about how things have already worked out the way he hoped they would.
Part 2
Title: Home Is Where The Heart Is
Rating: G
Pairing(s)/Focus: Sunggyu/Hoya, Sunggyu/Woohyun
Length: 19,420 words
Summary: This is a story about how Howon looks backward to the beginning, while Woohyun looks forward to fresh starts. Starring memories and soulmates and a lady in red, oh my!
Warnings: -none-
Notes: For reduxed: I hope you enjoy this remix of your very intriguing stories! And for R: thank you for putting up with my constant whining. Our next lunch is on me ^_^
Remixee author: reduxed
Titles and links to works you remixed:
how many times do I fly through your headspace - http://reduxed.livejournal.com/15155.html#cutid1
a good day for love to die - http://reduxed.livejournal.com/16675.html#cutid1
Howon covers Sunggyu's eyes from behind and leads him into a shadowed alcove; they've passed by this one countless times before but Sunggyu hasn't actually given it any thought. The subtle cooling of the air conditioner and the soft whisk of leather tells Sunggyu that for this place, whatever it is, obscurity is a choice.
"Already I can tell that this isn't the type of restaurant we usually eat at," Sunggyu says blindly as he hears a door open. There are quiet voices on the other side. And the gentle clicking of heavy dinner knives against expensive china. And the faint smell of good wine in the air. Howon's other hand squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. "What happened to good old McDonalds for dinner?"
"Don't you think we're past the fast food stage by now, old man?" Howon teases. "We certainly make enough." At thirty-five, Sunggyu has written enough songs under his name to live off the royalties, and that's on top of his steady job as a sound engineer. And Howon, at thirty two, has his own accomplishments under his belt. "I appreciate saving up for our future but sometimes we have to indulge in the present, don't we?"
Sunggyu sighs, chidingly long-suffering. "If you say so."
Howon guides him onto a chair before he removes his hand over Sunggyu's eyes. "I wanted to take you somewhere nice tonight," Howon tells him with a wide smile. Sunggyu looks very nice, too, in a pastel cream blazer that the subdued candlelight paints warm yellow. Howon's gift from before they left for dinner an hour ago.
Howon's idea of 'nice' is an out of the way little Greek place that serves the freshest seafood this side of the river, and this side of the river is where people go to if price isn't as much of a concern as quality. Somewhere along the way, sometime in the almost fifteen years they spent together, Howon had developed Taste.
"What's the occasion?" Sunggyu asks. Not that he wants there to be an occasion. This is kind of... nice. Dressing up and going out for a quiet candlelit dinner. Not that he would trade away the pizza and beer in front of the flatscreen TV or the grilled pork belly and copious amounts of soju.
The two tapered candles between them are perfectly at the same height, the small flames glowing evenly. In his head, Sunggyu draws the symbol of infinity around the halos.
"I haven't been completely honest with you," Howon begins, and Sunggyu doesn't even think of worrying about whatever it is that Howon is keeping from him; Howon's eyes are glinting with mischief and pride and a whole lot of adoration. Sunggyu has no idea why that last one is there, has no idea if the Sunggyu in Howon's eyes is the same Sunggyu who is sitting across the table. "Remember that big thing at work? The one I wouldn't tell you about?"
"The one that had you staying late at the office without texting me and I had to rush home to feed Nurungi every time?"
Howon's laughter, Sunggyu thinks, just makes him so much more handsome. It just isn't fair. "Yeah, that one. See, it started off as a project. But it ended up as-" Howon slides his business card over the table, and even in the dinner light Sunggyu knows he's never seen this one before, a lot less artistic and a whole lot more executive "-a promotion."
"Wow." That's all Sunggyu could say right now. Wow.
"I know, right?" Howon says and he's giggling like a kid, so full of excitement. Sunggyu lets himself be swept away with the sheer, overwhelming energy of Howon's happiness. "I can't believe this is actually happening."
"You deserve it," Sunggyu tells him, as if he hasn't said those same words every time anything good happens to them. "You deserve so, so much."
The house with the manicured lawn. The dance studio with mirrors on every wall and the most complete sound system Sunggyu has ever put together. The fully equipped recording booth in the basement. The dog, even if Nurungi likes to play in the mud.
"And you," Howon says softly, as if he knows exactly what Sunggyu is thinking. And maybe he does. "I'm living the dream. All those things? They're nice. But you? You're the dream. I love you, Kim Sunggyu. I love you a whole lot."
"Cheeseball," Sunggyu says just as softly, but it's all fondness.
They're living the dream.
And maybe... maybe it's time to let some other dream go. Maybe it's time to stop chasing that strange, nameless memory at night, the one he never catches, the one whose face he only half-recalls.
Tonight is the last night Sunggyu thinks of infinity.
From a shadowed booth at the very back, curtains hiding her well out of sight, a lady in a red evening gown watches them the whole night with stars in her eyes.
"Hey. It's you again." The voice is cracked at the edges. A teenaged body still growing, still trying to figure out how to deal with all these hormones.
It says something about Woohyun that he doesn't even have to turn his head to know who it is. "Yeah. It's me. Again." But he turns his head anyway if only to smirk at the not-stranger. The most he can work up is a grimace. Damn nerves. He should be used to this by now.
"Third time's the charm?" the not-stranger asks. Woohyun envies how casual he sounds, how confident he seems even though they're about the same age, even though they've both been through this before. He should be wallowing in anxiety, not walking around talking to other aspirant trainees like it's freshmen orientation day. Woohyun could picture him so easily in his school uniform. The sporty kind. Probably.
"More like-" Woohyun has never lost count "-seventh, actually."
"Ah." A sympathetic nod. "I guess you've been doing this longer than I thought." A weak attempt at lightness, so maybe not-stranger isn't so well put together after all. Maybe it's just a well-practiced mask.
"Maybe." Woohyun shrugs. "I've seen you a few times. I don't think I ever caught your name."
"You were 343. Then 682. And now you're," a quick glance at the number taped to Woohyun's shirt, "275. I don't know the ones before that."
Woohyun grins, actually grins despite the knot in his gut. "Do you always pay this much attention during auditions, or should I feel special?"
Another shrug. Not-stranger's shoulders, Woohyun thinks, are among his better features. "The latter. No one else here has your power vocals. That kind of thing sticks to you. I thought you were a sure thing when you were still 343. I thought you'd be an idol by now."
And just like that the knot throbs tighter, weighs heavier. "Thanks," he says. The grimace is back. "I thought you were too, with the way you dance."
"I guess we were both wrong." So laid back. As if they aren't talking about months of disappointment, of feeling unwanted, of mornings when eating breakfast suddenly turns into an exercise of remembering to breathe.
"I guess we were. Nam Woohyun, by the way," he volunteers. "So you don't have to call me by my number. You could have just asked."
"Lee Howon." They shake hands. Howon's eyes linger on the bracelet of braided leather around Woohyun's wrist. At the silver symbol for infinity near the center. "I'd usually say 'glad to see you again' but that's just wrong, you know?"
"Given the context, yeah," Woohyun manages to say after a short bark of laughter. They fall quiet after that but it's a form of companionable silence, a shared dread that Woohyun hasn't felt before. He usually makes it a point to go to these auditions alone. To bask in the triumph, he first told himself, but later it was more so no one would have to take pity on him and offer comfort. Not until he was ready.
Neither of them makes it. Neither of them is surprised.
~*~
The soup is simmering by the time Sunggyu dares to say anything. He's sitting at the foldable table where they usually eat and he's looking at his tea like he can read the leaves (never mind that he buys his tea in bags). "You're a much better vocalist than anyone out there."
"If I were," Woohyun snaps as he stirs seasoning into the jjigae, "I'd still be there going through training schedules and signing non-disclosure contracts." He can't look at Sunggyu right now. For all that's between them, he just can't right now. Over the months Sunggyu has gotten so much better at reading Woohyun but that doesn't mean he's already learned what to say.
"You can out-sing practically anyone," Sunggyu says placidly. (Except you, Woohyun thinks, and it's only part bitterness.) "You know that. But that doesn't count for anything in the idol market."
"I guess they just don't want me then. I mean, they should know, right? They're masters at knowing what people want." He means to say it objectively, maybe even with a shot at humor, but Woohyun's control over his voice has the weirdest sense of irony and Sunggyu's ears are sharper than his eyes. "I get it. I'm too short. I'm too dark. My teeth are weird. Nobody wants me and there's nothing I can do about that."
The snowflake that starts the avalanche. Sunggyu used to get mad at him whenever he puts himself down like this. He used to snap back and list the things that he loves about Woohyun, and Woohyun would hear the pity in Sunggyu's nagging and walk out because pity is something he has never learned how to deal with, and times like these he just doesn't want to deal with Sunggyu.
Sunggyu, who could do anything he puts his mind to. Who has never learned what it means to fail. Sunggyu, who could belt songs he's heard only once, whose grades never suffer, who never gets an order wrong, who manages to live his own life by paying for everything himself. Sunggyu, who is basically as awesome as anyone can get. And Woohyun, who is... not so much.
This time, though, Sunggyu slowly stands up and wraps his arms around Woohyun's waist, not minding that Woohyun smells like sweat and smoke and the alcove-turned-kitchen in his tiny apartment really isn't big enough for this. "Don't forget hairy. Too hairy, actually." Woohyun tries to jab his elbow against Sunggyu's stomach but the hug is too tight for that. "But I want you. And there's nothing you can do about that either."
"Sleezeball." Maybe he just wants to get lost in the moment. Maybe he just wants to forget school tomorrow or today's disaster or maybe even band practice with Myungsoo tonight, no matter how much he always looks forward to that. Maybe he just wants to bask in knowing that even though they haven't talked about what this thing between them actually is, Sunggyu touches him even if he doesn't touch anyone else. That despite Sunggyu's own schoolwork and his job at a milk tea place and then his underground rock band on top of that, Sunggyu still stays home and awake to eat Woohyun's cooking whenever he has a bad day. "Can we just. Not talk about this? Please?"
A lady in a red hoodie had nodded at him as he left the auditorium, as if to say 'don't be surprised' or even 'it'll be the same the next time'. Or maybe not, but that's how Woohyun felt and he'd rushed home and started chopping vegetables just to have something to do with his hands. Reality check: maybe he wasn't cut out for the spotlight.
But he has band practice in an hour. They both do. And school tomorrow. Life doesn't stop just because he failed an audition. As if that was anything new.
Sunggyu nods against the back of Woohyun's head, then he lets go and starts gathering the vegetable peels by the sink. Woohyun's messes never stay long because he always cleans up after he cooks but you could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu. Not that Sunggyu keeps a spotless home; it's just that whenever he's Thinking of Something he also needs to do something with his hands.
Sunggyu doesn't deserve him, Woohyun keeps joking about that to everyone. But - and this is just a thought - it's really the other way around.
~*~
sender: power vocals guy
I guess I'll see you again next time (9:52 p.m.)
sender: Lee Howon
I gues (9:53 p.m.)
U okay? (9:53 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
Aw I didn't know you cared~~ (9:54 p.m.)
sender: Lee howon
I dont (9:59 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
Harsh. But yeah (9:59 p.m.)
It's nothing new (10:00 p.m.)
Eleven years of hard work - his and Sunggyu's - has Howon wiping his sweat with the bottom of his shirt as he steps out of their condo bedroom-turned-studio after three solid hours of dancing. He leaves the music playing and walks barefoot down the hall to the kitchen, stopping only when he sees Sunggyu hunched over the stove and staring into a stainless steel pot.
Well. That's a new sight.
"I always thought we got those things for decoration," Howon says, and Sunggyu jerks in surprise to look at him. "We've been living here for so long but we haven't used those things even once. I'm actually thinking of giving them away."
Sunggyu snorts at the truth in that. Eleven years of living together and still neither of them ever learned how to cook. It doesn't matter, though, not with Howon's non-stop choreography gigs and the various projects Sunggyu sings or plays for; with all that, it's just easier to order in or get take-out. Leaves much less of a mess, too. "There's something wrong about a home without a fully functional kitchen," Sunggyu tells him again, as if they haven't had these same discussions two, three, seven, and ten years ago, or even back when they first considered sharing space. Eleven years.
Sunggyu's apartment back then had been tiny when Howon moved in, just right for a student working part time at a commercial milk tea shop and singing for an underground rock band at night. Having another person live there stretched what space there was to its seams, but living with Howon had let Sunggyu ease back on the hours, had allowed Sunggyu to take more time to rest and actually enjoy his youth. It wasn't exactly domestic bliss but Howon would never trade those years away for anything.
"Oh, so this is home now?" Howon teases.
"I guess so." Sunggyu examines their kitchen with a critical eye, as if he hadn't been the one to push Howon into agreeing to buy the pots, the various knives, the non-stick pans, the stove- everything, even the jade-layered kitchen table. The only things they ever use are the coffee maker and the toaster, and even those are used so infrequently that they're practically pristine. "I don't know how it happened, but yeah I guess this will do. Home is where you reek of sweat and the person living with you doesn't mind."
"You know my stink turns you on. What are you thinking of making anyway?" Howon lays an arm around Sunggyu's shoulders and peers into the pot. He can't decide whether to feel relieved or disappointed that the only thing inside is water. It isn't even boiling. "Provided that you actually manage to get the stove to work."
Sunggyu frowns into the pot, then at the ladle in his hand as if it had personally wronged him. "I was in the mood for jjigae."
"We have literally hundreds of restaurant numbers saved in our phones-"
"Homemade jjigae, okay? Like. Cutting up vegetables first then mixing stuff into the water and... Okay, I don't actually know how to make jjigae." Sunggyu sighs in defeat, takes the pot off the stove and pours the water down the sink.
"So why didn't you? I'm not saying I wouldn't eat it, but for the record: if I do I expect to be thanked for putting up with it."
The look Sunggyu aims at him is nothing short of amused disbelief, then he strides to the fridge and laughingly yanks the door open. "If you haven't noticed, jagiyah, it's kind of hard to cook anything if we don't have anything to cook in the first place."
The only things in the fridge are bottles of water, a few cartons of milk, and some leftover takeout. Sunggyu closes the fridge door and spreads his arms at Howon like he just proved his point. Which he did, but Howon's mind is on other things entirely.
They're thinking of moving into an actual house soon. One with a yard where they can have a dog (or maybe two) in a nice part of the city. And Howon can go to his job as head choreographer (someday) and they can have parties on the lawn and Sunggyu can record his own stuff in the basement studio he's always wanted to build.
"Hey." Gently, slowly, he pins Sunggyu against the fridge and plants a soft kiss on his jaw. "I'm happy. With us. With what we have. Even if we don't actually know how to keep house."
And like every time, Sunggyu takes a moment to breathe, a moment to look into Howon's eyes before kissing him back. "I'm happy, too. Even if you're so sweaty all the time."
And like every time, Howon ignores that wistful gaze in Sunggyu's eyes, that tiny pause before he says anything. That moment when he looks like he suddenly realizes that he's talking to Howon and not someone else, and that it's always been Howon, and that yeah, maybe they are in love. And happy. If that means anything.
Howon has lived with that for eleven years. It hasn't bothered him since their second anniversary, never mind that Sunggyu insists on not celebrating their anniversaries (but they do, anyway). He'd hoped that it would go away, but if it's still there after all these years then it's probably there to stay.
Some people aren't lucky enough to get everything they want. But then, Howon knows that he already has a lot.
~*~
Howon's phone rings just as the elevator door slides open. He waves goodbye to the rest of his dance troupe and tries to remember where he parked. Being a senior choreographer means he could bring his own car to work, but that doesn't mean he has a parking slot named after him.
"Hey, princess," Howon greets as he walks to one of the farther corners. It's always the only space available by the time he gets to work.
"It's nice to know that you respect me as much as you love me," Sunggyu huffs.
"I treat you like royalty." And that's true enough. "I'm your knight in shining armor."
"Don't delude yourself, you're like the court jester or something. The fool."
"I've always been a fool for you, you know that."
Sunggyu's groan is of perfectly practiced misery. "Don't you ever get tired of being so greasy?"
"You say that like you don't find it so charming." There's more than one reason why Howon chose to own a purple car but high on that list is that no one else does. It's definitely easy to identify in a crowded parking lot. He tosses his gym bag to the back seat and climbs in behind the wheel.
"I refuse to incriminate myself," Sunggyu retorts primly. "I'm downtown, by the way. Coffee."
"I thought you swore off that thing."
"You know that production meeting I had today? Some things are just too stressful to think about without coffee. It's like you and-and knitting, I guess."
"Fair enough. Should I pick you up?" Howon starts the engine.
"Or we could hang out." Sunggyu says it like it's a suggestion but Howon hears the request for what it is. Sunggyu doesn't ask for much, always thinks that he can bear the weight of his world on his shoulders, so during the few moments when he does ask for something Howon always gives it to him.
Even the small things. Like having coffee somewhere before heading home. "Or yeah, we could hang out. Where to?"
"You know that tattoo place we found in Hongdae?"
Howon stares at his phone as if Sunggyu's face is live on the screen. "Wait, I thought we were getting coffee-"
"There's a coffee shop about two blocks down from it. Afters, I think it's called. Apparently it's been there for decades and I can't believe I've never actually tried it."
Afters
Does he-
But it's been years. What are the odds that... that guy will be there?
Howon tells himself that the chill in his spine doesn't mean anything. Sunggyu just wants coffee and he works with a lot of indie music types who maybe mentioned the place and it doesn't mean more than that. "Seriously? There's a Café Bené around the corner from our place and it's usually pretty quiet at this time of day."
"I know, I know. It's just that... I want to try this place out." There's frustration in Sunggyu's voice. Not at Howon, more likely at some vague thoughts at the back of his head, the part he never finds the right words for. "Who knows, maybe they actually serve the good stuff. But if you're tired, I can just grab some coffee and go home right after."
"No, no, don't worry about it," Howon says, grinning to convince himself. "I'll be there in a few minutes."
~*~
It's still the same place. All these years and it's still the same place. There's new art on the walls, the paint isn't chipping like he last remembers, the tables and chairs aren't as rickety, and they're serving gelato instead of ice cream now. But it's still the same place.
The small raised platform at the corner of the shop. A couple of mic stands. Still there. Clean, but they look like they haven't been used in a long time. Safe. Howon lets himself breathe easier.
"Really cozy," Sunggyu says as soon as Howon sits across from him. "I like how the place feels so... familiar."
There are paintings on the walls with price tags on the frames. Looks like someone couldn't interest a real gallery so they're showcasing their stuff several steps down the ladder instead. Howon and Sunggyu are sitting below a watercolor painting of a field of tiny pink brambles and for some reason the artist had titled it The Flowers of Forgetting.
Howon is a choreographer for an idol label. He has no idea how a painter's mind works.
"Like you've been here before?" Howon asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Almost. If that means anything." Sunggyu shrugs. A waitress brings him his cup of black and Howon a cup of something piled high with whipped cream. "You sounded stressed out on the phone. I thought you could do with some cheering up."
"It's super effective!" Howon sips at the whipped cream, making sure to coat his lips messily that way that always has Sunggyu scrunching his nose and not believing that he's living with someone so messy. But unlike before when Sunggyu just laughed and tossed paper napkins, now Sunggyu sighs at him, long-suffering but willing to put up with much more as Howon licks his lips clean. "How's your production thing coming along?"
The way Sunggyu stares into his cup makes him look so endearing. Howon would be cooing (to himself) if Sunggyu didn't look like a particularly anxious hamster. Like he knows Howon won't like whatever he has to say. Like Howon has never assured him that they were safe with each other, that they should be able to say whatever they want without fear of how the other person would react. Always getting ahead of himself.
They've changed so much over the years and they're still together despite everything that happened, and if there's one thing Howon learned it's that he could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu.
They're long past words of reassurances by now. Sunggyu has to remember it by himself. Has to remember that Howon has always been there. Will always be there.
Howon waits quietly, watches with all the fondness he can muster to show in public while Sunggyu works through the jumble of voices in his head, trying to find an anchor of stability to hold on to.
The waitress from earlier brings samplers of their new gelato flavors. A delivery boy arrives with cartons of paper napkins. A lady in a red miniskirt comes in and takes a seat by the windows. Howon's phone beeps with a message but he ignores it for now.
Some of the other patrons are jeering at each other by the time Sunggyu speaks up. Howon leans closer to hear him clearly. "All these times I tell you that I'm happy, you know that I mean it right? You, me, the flat... even the kitchen we never use?"
Howon nods. There are already too many voices in Sunggyu's head, each one trying to be heard over the others; adding one more, even if it's his voice, won't be so helpful.
"I'm happy. My life is awesome and I'm living it with a guy who's even more awesome." Sunggyu's hand starts to move, and maybe it's a nervous habit or maybe he doesn't even know he's doing it, but whenever the voices in his head are particularly bad he always finds something to do with his hands. Right now, in the absence of an instrument to play or anything to write with, Sunggyu's fingers are drawing a symbol on the varnished table. Howon watches it carefully. "It's just that... I have these dreams sometimes. And they're not the kind of dreams where you're looking for a happy ever after - I already have that. These are... weird. Like those dreams where you're being chased by werewolf cabbages? Only this time, instead of being chased, I'm the one doing the chasing. Only I don't know who I'm chasing. But I know that I have to catch him. I have to. Or else."
"Or else?"
"I don't know. Just... or else." Sunggyu raises his eyes and sees the amused concern on Howon's face. Then he laughs, breaks his own moment, and takes a sip of his coffee to hide his embarrassment. "Man, this new MV is really messing with me. And to think that I thought it was cool."
Howon leans back against his chair. He'd known, of course, about these dreams. Sunggyu used to talk in his sleep whenever they had too much to drink, and then there were the mornings after particularly tiring days when the line between dreaming and waking was too blurred before Sunggyu had his first cup of coffee. Howon had known even if he hadn't said a thing. Sunggyu is entitled to the privacy of his own head. Like Howon is entitled to his.
"We'll be doing a chase theme," Sunggyu is saying by the time Howon pulls himself back to the conversation. "The director likes action sequences and apparently he thought the music sounded like a good background for-"
"-is this thing on? Hello?"
"Hyung, can you be even more cliché?"
There are two guys on the stage. One of them is tuning an acoustic guitar while the other one is smiling at the confused café patrons-turned-audience with a microphone held to his mouth. "Hey, lucky people of Afters! You happen to be just in time for-"
No fucking way.
That easy confidence. So readily recognizable even if Howon hasn't seen him in years.
Sunggyu is staring at the vocalist as if he should know that face. As if they've met before and he's trying to remember where. And Sunggyu's mind has always been very sharp.
"We should go," Howon says abruptly.
"Won't that be rude?" Sunggyu says, still looking searchingly at the man's effortless grin. As if there are secrets there that he needs to read.
"They sing at a coffee shop. I'm sure they're used to it." Howon pulls his wallet out and slips bills under his cup. "Come on."
Sunggyu's face scrunches like he wants to insist on staying, but just like how Howon doesn't judge him for weird dreams, he doesn't judge Howon for sudden mood swings.
The lady watches them go.
"-great that this place is still around, yeah?" the man was saying into the microphone by the time they're at the door. "We haven't played here in years but what the heck, there's always time for a little nostalgia right? This is Kim Myungsoo on the guitar and I'm-"
They get in to Howon's car without saying a word.
They stop for take-out on the way home ("Anything but jjigae," was Howon's request so they get chicken barbeque instead), and by the time they're eating dinner the little café was already gone from their minds.
But earlier, back when he was struggling to find words for a dream he doesn't understand and his fingers were appreciating the smoothness of the table's varnished wood, Sunggyu was tracing the symbol for infinity.
Woohyun's "band" is technically just him on vocals and Myungsoo with an acoustic guitar, plus a generous side helping of Sungyeol for (im)moral support and occasionally as their band manager. A handful of students looking for bigger things than just studying for exams and studying harder for harder exams.
They all wanted to be idols once. But that's before Myungsoo discovered that people actually pay photographers and Sungyeol got kicked out of SM. Now they just play at coffee shops while Sungyeol goes through the various essays he's editing for his online tutoring thing. Not that they need the money for their music: Myungsoo earns enough from his photography gigs, Sungyeol is quickly becoming notorious for his merciless crusade for quality essays, Woohyun still receives regular allowances from his brother, and they're all sharing the same apartment (even if Woohyun stays over at Sunggyu's often enough; he doesn't trust Sunggyu to live alone). And then there's the fact that cafes don't really pay that much for freelance musicians in the first place. This band is a hobby. An outlet for the artists in them. When they say they don't do it for the money, they really mean it.
Myungsoo is staring intently at the screen of his laptop when Woohyun arrives at their flat. Sungyeol is stretched out on the too-small sofa indulging in a crumbling paperback.
Once, Woohyun heard Myungsoo say that home is where he can get lost in his head and not say a word for hours and the people living with him wouldn't find it odd. He was looking at Sungyeol the whole time. Woohyun had to refrain himself from calling out how sickeningly sweet the whole thing was.
Woohyun loves how these two just don't react to things. It gives him an excuse to announce his presence. Loudly. "Is it too much to expect that you should-"
"Shhh," Sungyeol hisses.
"-already be warming up by the time your-"
"Shhhhhh."
"-vocalist arrives to bring joy to your otherwise-"
"Shhhhhh!"
"-unexciting life? How do you expect to keep-"
Sungyeol takes his eyes off his book to pack as much venom as he could into a single glare.
"-up with my sheer brilliance if-"
"I'm done," Myungsoo says with a few finalizing clicks of his mouse. "Are you?"
Woohyun's grin is nothing but wolfish. "Myungsoo-ya, you should know by now that I am never done."
"How does Sunggyu-hyung live with you," Sungyeol mutters as he pulls himself up to a sitting position and tosses his paperback to the top of a pile of assorted stuff at the corner. "He's the most anal person I know and yet he seems so besotted."
Myungsoo speaks up before Woohyun manages to affirm the 'anal' part of Sungyeol's comment. "He's pretty quiet around Sunggyu-hyung," Myungsoo says as he reaches for his guitar. "I've seen them. He's subdued."
"Whatever goes on between me and Gyu is our business."
"As if you don't tell us all the time anyway," Sungyeol answers with a snort.
"Because I know you two are just dying to learn stuff that you haven't tried for yourselves yet."
"I've been practicing a few new songs," Myungsoo commandeers the conversation as he plucks a few notes from the nylon strings. "I thought it might be nice to add new stuff to our list."
Practice, as always, is just Myungsoo playing through their repertoire while Woohyun sings along and Sungyeol listens to them intently. "This is a musical chemistry thing," Sungyeol said once, "not a technical thing. You need to have soul. That's the kind of music that café people want to hear." He's already acknowledged that music just isn't his thing, but that doesn't dull the part of his mind that knows entertainment, the part that can tell by instinct what people will like. His critiques are less "You went flat there" or "You were half a beat off" and more "You look bored, don't do that" and "Why are you smiling? That isn't a happy song."
But by and large, it seems to work. That seems to be Sungyeol's place in the scheme of things. Sungyeol knows quality. He's the only person Myungsoo ever shows pre-treated pictures to. Everyone else has to wait.
A photograph on the crate-turned-coffee table catches Woohyun's eye. "What's this?"
"Huh?" It's unfair how Myungsoo still looks pretty no matter how scrunched up his face is. "Just a throwaway shot, no big deal."
Woohyun rolls his eyes. "Sure, wasting photo paper on some no big deal, perfectly reasonable."
Sungyeol guffaws loudly at that while Myungsoo just grins pleased. "Apparently, it's a dildo," Sungyeol says.
"It's not," Myungsoo snaps, suddenly affronted. "It's an ancient artifact celebrating fertility, okay. Hunters from Africa whittled it from ivory and presented it to their partners three months before they start conceiving-"
"Dildo!"
But Woohyun isn't looking at the ivory implement... thing. Whatever it is. There's a lady in the background examining a pair of red teacups. The camera hadn't been focused on her but Woohyun could still make out enough details to be sure. The memory is clear.
A quick nod beneath her red hood.
What are the odds.
"Is there a problem, hyung?"
Woohyun pulls himself back to the present. Myungsoo has a foot on Sungyeol's face while Sungyeol looks like he's contemplating biting it off. "Nothing," Woohyun says. "Nothing. Hey, think we can go through that last song again?"
Myungsoo lets go of Sungyeol and reaches for his guitar. They're through the first verse of a song about starlight falling when Sungyeol snaps his fingers deliberately off beat to catch their attention. "This looks promising."
"What?" Myungsoo drops the song and scrambles to Sungyeol's side, and normally Woohyun would join in but he doesn't trust what he'll see in Sungyeol's laptop.
(Once is enough. He still has nightmares about it. Although Sunggyu only looked thoughtful when Woohyun mentioned it. He's always wondered what Sunggyu's silence could mean.)
"There's a place in Hongdae that's looking for a new act," Sungyeol says. He catches Woohyun's eye. It's pretty near where Sunggyu-hyung sings. Afters. Interested?"
Woohyun grins gamely. "It's worth a shot."
~*~
sender: Lee Howon
Hey. R u busy (4:32 p.m.)
I hav a sugstion (4:34 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
Can you *please* text properly? I don't normally associate with illiterate grade schoolers. (4:36 p.m.)
sender: Lee Howon
Eltst (4:37 p.m.)
Sorry, i mean "elitist" (4:38 p.m.)
sender: power vocals guy
That's an improvement. What's up, though? (4:38 p.m.)
sender: Lee Howon
There are auditions next month. I have a proposition (4:39 p.m.)
~*~
The studio Howon dances in is seven blocks away from where Sunggyu's band normally plays. Woohyun is fairly familiar with the area even if he hasn't been to this specific section of the neighborhood - it's not exactly his scene (not that he's the type to settle for just one scene), but Sunggyu likes the area and Woohyun likes to walk around when he isn't as busy as usual.
The studio itself is underground, connected to the world via shallow stairs hidden behind a door carefully camouflaged by graffiti. Woohyun has to clamp down hard on his claustrophobia as he descended the steps.
He's just glad he told Sunggyu where he's going in case Howon turns out to be a psycho killer who takes out his competition, but then he realizes (too late) that Sunggyu knowing the last place Woohyun went to won't exactly be much help for Woohyun anyway. Not if he's already-
But Woohyun's imagination is oddly disappointed when Howon opens the door and there are no ropes or knives or blunt instruments waiting for them. It's just... an empty room. There's a beat-up old stereo in one corner. A few pictures of people dancing taped to the walls. A few boxes piled on top of each other.
"Who actually owns this place?" is the first thing Woohyun asks as he sets his bag on a rickety wooden bench right beside the door. There's a potted plant at the other end. Woohyun doesn't know what kind it is.
"Don't know," Howon answers with an easy shrug. "My friend said he's been using the place for years and he's never been kicked out. We used to dance here together here all the time, but that was before he moved to Canada. So now it's just me. It's a little rustic but it feels like home sometimes."
"That's one way of putting it."
There's only one mirrored wall and the florescent light is nowhere bright enough and the room easily smells like sweat since the only exhaust is a small window at level with the ground outside, and all in all Woohyun has been to better studios even if he doesn't get to stay in them long enough to matter.
Howon laughs, more at himself than at Woohyun. "Home is where you can play Justin Bieber and not worry about being judged."
But it's here and it's free. And if Woohyun learns how to dance before the next auditions, then maybe...
"I don't have a keyboard," he tells Howon immediately. "So I can't teach you here. But my friend has one at home so I can teach you to sing there."
"That's fine." Howon walks a careful circle around him, his eyes scanning every inch of Woohyun's body. Woohyun would feel self-conscious if it isn't so detached. So clinical. So… appraising. "We've got a lot of work to do."
"What the hell," Woohyun yelps in indignation. "You haven't even seen me dance at all."
"Don't have to," Howon says as he stands beside Woohyun and looks at both of their reflections. "See the difference between us? See how I'm standing versus how you're standing? It's plain as day."
Woohyun bristles. "If you're just going to-"
"I'm here to help you out," Howon interrupts him. "Will you just listen to me? I'm not taking this personally, this is really how I see you as a dancer. Feel free to point out all my flaws when you're teaching me how to sing, but this is dancing and I'm me and you're you, okay?"
Some memories stay fresh and raw too long. Woohyun's worst dreams are always about rejection. It's a reality check he faces in the mirror every day.
"Okay, Mr. Power Vocals?" Howon nudges him.
Howon makes perfect sense. It's the kind of thing Sunggyu would have said. Woohyun takes a deep breath and lets it all out in one steady hiss. "Okay. Let's do this."
The stereo's speakers are loud enough for what they need. Woohyun is just breaking out a sweat when the door opens and a familiar hamster face peers in and squints at them. Beside him, Howon freezes in the middle of the body wave he's teaching Woohyun how to pull off.
Woohyun, on the other hand, jerks his body straight and spins on his heel to face Sunggyu. "Hyung."
Sunggyu raises an eyebrow at him, and somehow Sunggyu manages to look so much more severe than he really should. "Why did you stop? I didn't want to interfere."
"No, I just..." don't want you to see me like this, Woohyun wants to say. Even though Sunggyu knows Woohyun wants to be an idol, Sunggyu hasn't actually seen him do more than pose and strut. There has never been any dancing between them and for good reason.
They're vocalists. It's a mark of pride, even if Woohyun's is negotiable.
He fights down the embarrassment with the knowledge that he and Sunggyu have so many more compromising memories between them. And that Sunggyu isn't the type of person to care about these things. Much.
"Just came to check on you," Sunggyu explains. He opens the door wide, taking in the rest of the studio while Howon tones the music down. "And I might be home late tonight if you're planning on sleeping over. We have to show up at a party after the show but I won't stay too long. Unless you want to come with?"
"I have something to do," Woohyun tells him. "Homework. And Myungsoo has some new stuff I need to learn. This is Howon, by the way."
Howon, though, isn't saying anything. Woohyun catches him looking at the silver infinity symbol Sunggyu is wearing around his neck. Then at the same symbol around Woohyun's wrist. Then... a look of dawning realization.
"So that's your name," Sunggyu says as he stands in front of Howon, and Howon looks up at him with his eyes carefully shuttered. "Are you coming to the show tonight?"
"Yeah," Howon blurts out. "Haven't missed one yet, have I? Won't start now."
"Great. I don't know why you aren't completely sick of us by now but it's not something for me to complain about." Then to Woohyun, "You sure you don't want to come? It's free dinner at least."
"You two know each other?" This time, it's Woohyun's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I'm a big fan," Howon says. "I've been watching every performance since I moved here. I don't know why, though," he adds with a teasing grin. "They haven't released any new material since half a year ago."
"Well aren't you impatient," Sunggyu chuckles as he flicks Howon's forehead with a finger. "Know your place, fan. And we never fail to blow your brains out even with old material. Last call for tonight, Woohyunie."
"I'll pass, hyung."
"I knew I made the right choice in reaching out to you," Howon says as Sunggyu's footsteps fade up the stairs. His laugh is easy and light-hearted but the musician in Woohyun knows that this laugh is forced. "So my favorite co-auditioner happens to be living with my favorite singer. Imagine that. No wonder you have such astounding vocals."
Woohyun bristles at the implication. "Not everything I can do came from Sunggyu-hyung," Woohyun says. There's caution in his voice. Howon hears it and the amusement in his eyes dies down. "You've seriously been watching all their shows?"
"Since I moved from Busan."
Howon is looking at Woohyun's wrist again with an unreadable glint in his eyes... and something in Woohyun stirs. Casually, carefully casually, he hides his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants. The way Howon is looking at the symbol - had looked at the same symbol around Sunggyu's neck - doesn't sit right with Woohyun. "We should get back to dancing."
"Yeah," Howon agrees. He sounds like he's pulling himself out of deep thought. "We should."
Howon is hanging up the last frame when Sunggyu walks into the apartment with this week's groceries in his arms. "And what's that supposed to be?"
"Care to take a guess?" Howon's grin is completely mischievous.
It's possible that Sunggyu is rolling his eyes at him, but it's really hard to tell even during the best of days. "Not right now," he huffs as he heads straight for the kitchen and Howon shakes his head with a full-blown smile. You could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu.
"Does it have anything to do with what day it is?" Sunggyu asks loudly as he puts the groceries away, and by 'groceries' they just mean microwave dinners and the stash of Oreos that Sunggyu claims is for himself but Howon always ends up eating anyway. And milk. But it's mostly microwave dinners. They should probably learn how to cook soon.
"It's always appropriate to celebrate Wednesdays."
"Celebrate it enough to redecorate? Enough to hang seven very nice frames in the living room, all of which has pictures of us?"
Howon's smile is sharp at the edges and is growing wider and wider. "We should always reinvent ourselves and our living space. And thanks, I had to drive across the city just for these frames."
The sound of a drawer being shut. Sunggyu reappears in the living room and leans against their hastily constructed shelf full of Sunggyu's audio engineering textbooks; Howon just hopes the cheap plywood doesn't choose now to break. "So these new pictures - which are all about just the two us, by the way - they have nothing to do with... I don't know, something that happened seven years ago?"
Howon raises his eyebrows in ignorance. He hasn't exactly practiced acting in any way but he knows he has enough control over his face to fake his way through things. "Oh, really? What could have happened on this exact date seven years ago?"
"I don't know. You tell me." Nobody can deadpan quite as flatly as Kim Sunggyu.
Howon throws himself on the couch, bouncing once before settling in and patting the space beside him. Sunggyu does that eye thing again, gives him one of his long-suffering sighs before sitting down and letting himself be wrapped in Howon's arms. "Happy anniversary," Howon whispers to Sunggyu's neck.
"Oh, is that what this is about?" After all these years away from the microphone, Sunggyu's control over his voice is only enough to sound moderately disbelieving. "I thought it was for something, you know, important."
"I can see why you would think that, but nah, it's nothing big." Howon hugs him tighter and just... breathes in, breathes deep. Breathes Sunggyu and holds the air in his chest as long as he can.
"Seven years," Sunggyu trails off. "Imagine that. Seven years since you went crazy."
"Crazy for you, you mean."
"I don't think I can ever mean anything so-"
"Greasy?"
"Amazing, you read my mind." But Sunggyu turns his head and they spend a moment looking into each other's eyes. And fine, it's such a cheesy moment, something straight out of an afternoon soap opera, but cliché is cliché for a reason and just like that Sunggyu is leaning in and kissing Howon as if those seven years were just yesterday. "Happy anniversary, sleezeball."
"I'm the only sleezeball for you."
"Ho-hum," Sunggyu says, but Howon hears it as You know it, and they're quiet again for a while.
This isn't the first time that Howon put his talent for handicrafts to good use. Howon may dance like his body is living off sheer electricity, but home is where his knitting needles can click peacefully all day.
But something in Sunggyu clicks - Howon can feel it through their unspoken connection - and he pulls back, looks into Howon's eyes and there's surprise there. A question. Howon can read it so easily. Not that Sunggyu is so open; it's just the Howon has a lot of practice.
Is this real? Sunggyu's eyes are asking. Is it really... you?
But out loud what Sunggyu says is, "Jagiyah?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you happy?"
Howon hums thoughtfully. "Have I ever complained in seven years?"
"No. I don't think so."
"Then I guess I am."
~*~
"Have you seen my old hard drives? The ones from two years ago?"
Howon freezes the dance video he's studying. Sunggyu is standing by the bedroom door with a handful of old thumb drives and dusty connector cables and a thoroughly frazzled look on his face. It isn't fair how Howon finds it so adorable. "Didn't we stash them in a box somewhere?"
Sunggyu grimaces. "Very helpful."
"No, seriously, I remember putting them in with my stash of-- hard drives."
Howon's pause is just too pregnant with possibilities. "Hard drives?" Sunggyu repeats neutrally.
"Yes," Howon responds equally plainly.
"Hard drives," Sunggyu says again, this time with finger quotes.
"Yeah. Hard drives." Howon studiously doesn't look at Sunggyu's fingers.
Sunggyu nods slowly. "I think I remember cramming a box under the bed when we moved here." He turns on his heel back to the bedroom, but before he realizes what's going on Howon crashes into him, throws him onto the bed and pins him down effortlessly.
"What do you want with my hard drives?" Howon asks, his breath tickling the tip of Sunggyu's nose. (He's been smoking a lot less, Sunggyu notes proudly.) Howon's lips are quirked with the childhood mischief he hasn't quite grown out of yet. "They're very personal hard drives."
And at that, Sunggyu breaks up laughing. "I don't want anything from your hard drives, okay," he wheezes breathlessly. "I'm looking for my old stuff, not whatever it is you're keeping." He lets Howon kiss him deeply. Lets Howon brush his tongue against Sunggyu's. Lets Howon gently nibble at his lower lip.
"Well. In that case." Howon sits back and lets him go.
There aren't that many boxes under the bed. They find the hard drives in a box carefully labeled 'stuff stuff stuff'. Howon used a lot of imagination in labeling their boxes when they moved years ago. ("I'm a dancer, not a writer!" he justified.)
"What's in that thing anyway?" Howon asks. They didn't touch Howon's hard drives.
"Some old mixes for background noise, a few really obscure tracks." He connects the device to his laptop and waits for everything to load. "Plus a few favorite recordings that I haven't used yet. Remember that time you went sky diving and I strapped a mic to your cheek?"
"Vividly."
"Of course," Sunggyu chuckles. "I love that track but I haven't used it anywhere."
Howon's heart still rushes at the memory. He'd have loved for them to jump together but Sunggyu put his foot down while he still had anything to put it down on and Howon didn't push him. Still... it was a rush. "So you've found a use for it now?"
Sunggyu loads the track and plays it long enough to make sure that it's still working before copying the file to his computer. "We're doing a show about falling. I think this will be appropriate. Specially that part where you can hear the wind rushing and everything's noisy and suddenly there's this loud whoosh! when you open the parachute, and then... almost complete silence and there's only you breathing loudly?" Sunggyu's eyes are still on the screen but it's so obvious that he can see so much more. It's like he was right there beside Howon when he was free-falling to the ground. "There's nothing like that. Ever."
Despite working with singers and idols and dancers and technicians and everyone else in the battalion of resources within the entertainment industry, Howon has never met anyone as passionate about sound as Kim Sunggyu. "Good thing I didn't swear, then."
"Small blessings," Sunggyu agrees. "I told the team all about it and they can't wait. They're bringing in this other guy, too. He's doing his graduate degree on memory. So he'll be talking about how memories during heightened emotional states aren't reliable. Can't remember the name, exactly. Nam something?"
Howon's blood runs cold.
"Nam Woolim? Wooyoung? Woo-something."
Howon forces his face to calm down before looking at Sunggyu and he sees exactly what he expects: Sunggyu's eyebrows are scrunched with the effort of remembering.
"Wanna go out for dinner?" Howon says a little too quickly, a little too loudly.
Sunggyu's face crumples slightly as part of his thoughts get derailed. "We have perfectly good food in the fridge."
"Microwave dinners are food, I concede to that, but I don't think I can describe them as 'perfectly good'," Howon points out. "Come on, hyung, can't work on an empty stomach. It wouldn't kill us to eat something healthy every once in a while."
Sunggyu sighs deeply. Howon waits. It doesn't take long: he knows Sunggyu very well, especially after all these years.
"I suppose so," Sunggyu says, defeated. As if health wasn't important until Howon reminded him.
They each grab their coats. The faint memory of the name is gone faster than they're out the door.
~*~
"I don't get it, hyung." Sungjong's exasperation is clear as day, even on the phone. "For years you've been telling everyone that Sunggyu-hyung just wants to be a sound engineer, but now suddenly you want us to quote-unquote scout him?"
"Sungjongie." Howon isn't the type of person to whine, and if he were he certainly isn't the type to whine to a dongsaeng. So this is Howon not-whining at Sungjong. "Come on, you know how talented your Sunggyu-hyung is, you've heard him sing."
"At noraebang!"
"And he's good! And that's just noraebang! Imagine how great he can be with all the training your team can heap on him." Howon is pacing at a corner of the studio while the idols he's training are catching their breaths. So maybe he's a little bit too manic today. Maybe he's too manic to care right now.
Someone from the production team is discussing tomorrow's schedule to various noises of disappointment. Howon tunes them out, even as a lady with a red file case hands out their scripts.
Sungjong hums like he's thinking about it. As if he hasn't said the very same things to Howon in vain hopes that he'll change his mind. "I'll have to check with my team. I mean, we're looking to form an a cappella R&B group and we already have buy-ins from a couple of producers. But I don't think that's Sunggyu-hyung's type of music?"
"You know he can sing anything he wants to."
"I'm not doubting his talent, hyung, I'm doubting how deeply he'll engage to this. You work with idols, right? You know how draining it can be to perform something you don't particularly feel anything for."
Howon pauses at the thought.
"But." Sungjong is so obviously torn between acquiring a tremendous talent to work for them and that talent being his least favorite, completely overbearing hyung. "I'll have to talk to my teammates. We'll see."
"Thanks, Sungjongie! How quickly can you set it up?" Howon is grinning too brightly for the heartless dance master persona that he puts up for his trainees. He'll have to give them hell later. Just to be sure. They should be used to it by now, anyway.
A long-suffering sigh that threatens to match Sunggyu's. "We'll see."
~*~
"So I got a call from Sungjong this afternoon."
"Oh? What did he want?"
"Apparently? Me."
It's one of those moments when they're both tired but not yet spent and they're riding the high as far as it would go. Everything about the world looks nice from up here. They'd been panting, breathless in that way only they can do to each other, and in just a short while they're... quiet. Content. Arms around each other, legs entangled.
Howon raises his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling. "I should probably feel jealous right now, but. It's Sungjong. And I know he doesn't want you that way, not after everything you put him through."
"He wants to sign me up, dumbass!" Sunggyu pinches him in the waist and Howon winces hey, ow! his skin is always a little too sensitive immediately afterward. "Can you believe that?"
"Wow. So suddenly?"
"Apparently they're putting a group together and they're looking for someone with my range." Sunggyu's breathing is deep. Like he wants to capture as much of this as he could, and he doesn't let go for as long as he can. "I told him yes. So there's an interview tomorrow and an audition for formality, then after that it's straight rehearsals, one after another."
"What about your job, though? Not that I'm not happy for you - I know you've always wanted this. But you were also pretty happy working purely with sound."
"I know, I know. But this is singing, Howon. I've already talked to my boss. They're getting one of the other audio guys to replace me on that falling project but I had to promise them that they could use my track even if I'm no longer on it. And I won't be employed as a full headcount so technically I'll still be working for them. That way if this singing thing doesn't pan out I still have a day job to return to." But even if Sunggyu is trying to sound light, his anxiety makes itself known through the quiet timbre of his voice. And the unseen infinity he's tracing on the skin of Howon's arms.
"It'll work out." Howon kisses Sunggyu's chest, wanting to press the reassurance straight into Sunggyu's heart. The Sunggyu Howon knows - and he knows Sunggyu very well - never fails at anything.
And so soon Sunggyu is squirming, gasping, cupping the back of Howon's head. "You sound so sure." He sounds so breathless again.
"I am sure." Howon moves lower, to that spot just below Sunggyu's chest where Sunggyu's so ticklish when they're doing anything else. "It'll work out." Sunggyu arcs up against him, pressing warm bodies together and Howon indulges, works him up slowly, thoroughly, with hands and lips and tongue and breath. Howon guides Sunggyu deep inside and rides him all the way 'til dawn.
He doesn't say a word about how things have already worked out the way he hoped they would.
Part 2