[fic] pancakes and noodles
title: pancakes and noodles
fandom: infinite
pairing: 2woogyu (aka: that schmoopy ship)
word count: ~1100
summary: Dongwoo never asks for things, but today maybe he can acknowledge that he needs to.
a/n: Lauren was asking on tumblr for some 2woogyu in response to how tired and thin Dongwoo has been looking lately. And I live to appease my muse. (Also these stupid boys are my spirit animals and I overidentify with them all ridiculous amounts and have been wanting to discuss Dongwoo's skinship for a while)
[ugh with my emotions ]
They walk through the door and take their shoes off in a haze (and he's not sure at first where they are because it's been one room, one hallway, one car ride, one airport after another and he's just so glad that he's taking his shoes off and not having to greet anyone or rush anywhere or answer any questions) and when Hoya pats him on the back and disappears into his room (Sungjong following right behind, closing the door after him, his face bearing the pain the other tries to hide) he feels a little bereft from the sudden emptiness. Beside him, always beside him, that face and those hands and without that presence he feels so lost and small ...
... and later they will tell him it looked as though he might collapse. That his face went as white as a sheet. That Woohyun leaped across the room and caught his arm before he fell. That Sunggyu (quietly) shooed Myungsoo and Sungyeol off the couch and into their room. That he stumbled on his way to the couch and collapsed into Sunggyu's chest and they didn't have the heart to wake him ... though he slept on top of his hyung for over three hours, no one moved. (Miraculously, Sunggyu would comment dryly later, even Myungsoo and Sungyeol had the heart to keep relatively quiet the whole afternoon.)
When Dongwoo woke, it was because of the smell of food. Woohyun's cooking (he knew because nothing was burnt smelling and there were no tell-tale sounds of crashing and cursing accompanying the smell ... and also because there was just something special about the food that Woohyun made, a scent that lingered and felt like comfort). He was lying on his back, his legs sprawled over someone sitting beside him. He dragged himself into conciousness when strong hands lifted him gently and a voice cooed a little in his ear, bringing him to rest against their chest.
It was Woohyun.
He was nestled against Woohyun's chest, blinking furiously and murmering questions he wasn't sure he needed the answers to, and it didn't matter because the younger boy's arms were around him in seconds and in their four hands a bowl of ramen that he clumsily slurped quickly - Woohyun occasionally pulling it away, telling him to slow down, teasing him for not taking care of himself while he was away.
And meanwhile Sunggyu's hand was there - right there - running along his inner thigh smoothly and softly. And this is how it felt to be home, to be cradled by Woohyun and fed like a child, and to have Sunggyu running his hand where only their hands were allowed.
Dongwoo had always been a very physical person. He was now teased for it in interviews and by his dongsaengs and the managers and the makeup noonas until he blushed. But how could he explain that it didn't make sense that everyone didn't want to be touched all of the time? He sometimes felt so disconnected from his body, from conversations, from himself and others, if he didn't have that simple contact. Just the press of a hand on the small of his back, an elbow brushing his forearm, knees grazing each other under a table... it kept him going. Kept him sane. Kept him laughing and smiling and dancing. Kept him connected to his surroundings. And since Infinite, it had gotten so much easier (so much worse) - so much easier to grab a hand, to wrap an arm around someone, to cuddle up to someone, to be accepted, to be held, to be touched... and he needed it so much more.
But lately... it felt as though it wasn't enough. The constant touching, (that was used that was commented upon that the others teased him for and needed that no longer seemed to belong to him) it still grounded him, he still needed it - but it was like a scent overused, like a favorite sweatshirt put through the wash too many times becoming threadbare and rough. Unless he fought for it, unless he concentrated on his movements, but his body was so tired, so worn out, so overused and overworked, and getting so thin ... it no longer felt as though his body belonged to him. So how could a simple touch be enough anymore? He couldn't explain it even to himself. That touching - which had once helped him feel solid - now seemed to send him drifting even further away.
Except this. Except Sunggyu's hand grazing that soft flesh of his inner thigh. Except Woohyun's breath tickling the back of his neck - just there.
He felt solid again.
The bowl was empty. He had eaten it all (and maybe forced Woohyun to take a mouthful or two and maybe teased Sunggyu into sampling it as well... but they three were one and they looked just as tired as he felt), but still felt hungry. Hungry for food or to sink further in the scent and feel of Woohyun and Sunggyu - it didn't much matter. He felt more hungry in the presence of them, more eager when there was something solid to want, something more tangible than a memory.
"I'm still hungry."
Woohyun laughed, "Good. Because I also made pancakes."
"Pancakes?"
Sunggyu smiled and looked over at them, "When we dragged you over to the couch you kept asking for noodles and pancakes."
Dongwoo blinked, thinking irrationally of a bowl full of crumbled pancake and uncooked noodles, "What does that even mean?"
Woohyun laughed and the movement made Dongwoo want to sink further into his chest, to disappear into that deep rythmn, "I wasn't sure so I just made both and hoped for the best."
Dongwoo waited for a moment, enjoying the feel of his measured breath weighing even with the other two, their hands comforting him with gentle strokes. And he recognized their stillness and their worried glances and he hated the idea that they were worried, because he wanted to be home to care for them and check up on them - because Woohyun never ate properly and Sunggyu was always working himself to the bone and they both gave too much to the others and to their fans (and maybe that's why they sunk so easily into each other) - and there they were, coddling him like they all did Myungsoo when he was filming his drama.
Only maybe that's how it was supposed to work. Maybe they were all supposed to care for each other. And maybe (just this once) he'd sink into it and let them - only tomorrow first thing he'd ask them how they'd been while he was away.
"Kay - so. Where are my pancakes?"
Also - sorry for the ridic amount of spamming today
fandom: infinite
pairing: 2woogyu (aka: that schmoopy ship)
word count: ~1100
summary: Dongwoo never asks for things, but today maybe he can acknowledge that he needs to.
a/n: Lauren was asking on tumblr for some 2woogyu in response to how tired and thin Dongwoo has been looking lately. And I live to appease my muse. (Also these stupid boys are my spirit animals and I overidentify with them all ridiculous amounts and have been wanting to discuss Dongwoo's skinship for a while)
[ugh with my emotions ]
They walk through the door and take their shoes off in a haze (and he's not sure at first where they are because it's been one room, one hallway, one car ride, one airport after another and he's just so glad that he's taking his shoes off and not having to greet anyone or rush anywhere or answer any questions) and when Hoya pats him on the back and disappears into his room (Sungjong following right behind, closing the door after him, his face bearing the pain the other tries to hide) he feels a little bereft from the sudden emptiness. Beside him, always beside him, that face and those hands and without that presence he feels so lost and small ...
... and later they will tell him it looked as though he might collapse. That his face went as white as a sheet. That Woohyun leaped across the room and caught his arm before he fell. That Sunggyu (quietly) shooed Myungsoo and Sungyeol off the couch and into their room. That he stumbled on his way to the couch and collapsed into Sunggyu's chest and they didn't have the heart to wake him ... though he slept on top of his hyung for over three hours, no one moved. (Miraculously, Sunggyu would comment dryly later, even Myungsoo and Sungyeol had the heart to keep relatively quiet the whole afternoon.)
When Dongwoo woke, it was because of the smell of food. Woohyun's cooking (he knew because nothing was burnt smelling and there were no tell-tale sounds of crashing and cursing accompanying the smell ... and also because there was just something special about the food that Woohyun made, a scent that lingered and felt like comfort). He was lying on his back, his legs sprawled over someone sitting beside him. He dragged himself into conciousness when strong hands lifted him gently and a voice cooed a little in his ear, bringing him to rest against their chest.
It was Woohyun.
He was nestled against Woohyun's chest, blinking furiously and murmering questions he wasn't sure he needed the answers to, and it didn't matter because the younger boy's arms were around him in seconds and in their four hands a bowl of ramen that he clumsily slurped quickly - Woohyun occasionally pulling it away, telling him to slow down, teasing him for not taking care of himself while he was away.
And meanwhile Sunggyu's hand was there - right there - running along his inner thigh smoothly and softly. And this is how it felt to be home, to be cradled by Woohyun and fed like a child, and to have Sunggyu running his hand where only their hands were allowed.
Dongwoo had always been a very physical person. He was now teased for it in interviews and by his dongsaengs and the managers and the makeup noonas until he blushed. But how could he explain that it didn't make sense that everyone didn't want to be touched all of the time? He sometimes felt so disconnected from his body, from conversations, from himself and others, if he didn't have that simple contact. Just the press of a hand on the small of his back, an elbow brushing his forearm, knees grazing each other under a table... it kept him going. Kept him sane. Kept him laughing and smiling and dancing. Kept him connected to his surroundings. And since Infinite, it had gotten so much easier (so much worse) - so much easier to grab a hand, to wrap an arm around someone, to cuddle up to someone, to be accepted, to be held, to be touched... and he needed it so much more.
But lately... it felt as though it wasn't enough. The constant touching, (that was used that was commented upon that the others teased him for and needed that no longer seemed to belong to him) it still grounded him, he still needed it - but it was like a scent overused, like a favorite sweatshirt put through the wash too many times becoming threadbare and rough. Unless he fought for it, unless he concentrated on his movements, but his body was so tired, so worn out, so overused and overworked, and getting so thin ... it no longer felt as though his body belonged to him. So how could a simple touch be enough anymore? He couldn't explain it even to himself. That touching - which had once helped him feel solid - now seemed to send him drifting even further away.
Except this. Except Sunggyu's hand grazing that soft flesh of his inner thigh. Except Woohyun's breath tickling the back of his neck - just there.
He felt solid again.
The bowl was empty. He had eaten it all (and maybe forced Woohyun to take a mouthful or two and maybe teased Sunggyu into sampling it as well... but they three were one and they looked just as tired as he felt), but still felt hungry. Hungry for food or to sink further in the scent and feel of Woohyun and Sunggyu - it didn't much matter. He felt more hungry in the presence of them, more eager when there was something solid to want, something more tangible than a memory.
"I'm still hungry."
Woohyun laughed, "Good. Because I also made pancakes."
"Pancakes?"
Sunggyu smiled and looked over at them, "When we dragged you over to the couch you kept asking for noodles and pancakes."
Dongwoo blinked, thinking irrationally of a bowl full of crumbled pancake and uncooked noodles, "What does that even mean?"
Woohyun laughed and the movement made Dongwoo want to sink further into his chest, to disappear into that deep rythmn, "I wasn't sure so I just made both and hoped for the best."
Dongwoo waited for a moment, enjoying the feel of his measured breath weighing even with the other two, their hands comforting him with gentle strokes. And he recognized their stillness and their worried glances and he hated the idea that they were worried, because he wanted to be home to care for them and check up on them - because Woohyun never ate properly and Sunggyu was always working himself to the bone and they both gave too much to the others and to their fans (and maybe that's why they sunk so easily into each other) - and there they were, coddling him like they all did Myungsoo when he was filming his drama.
Only maybe that's how it was supposed to work. Maybe they were all supposed to care for each other. And maybe (just this once) he'd sink into it and let them - only tomorrow first thing he'd ask them how they'd been while he was away.
"Kay - so. Where are my pancakes?"
Also - sorry for the ridic amount of spamming today