post #18

[seoulfulness]

Fics ( #17)

untitled f(x), krystal/sulli
Each Day That Passes EXO/SNSD, Baekhyun/Taeyeon
beneath the ice cracks super junior-m/f(x), zhou mi/victoria
food for the heart ze:a, kevin/siwan
don't forget me girl's day, sojin/yura
I would trust you (with my password) btob, peniel/sungjae
lesson one: always have a spare key exo, baekhyun/chen
burnt

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destruction resolution (part vii)

[anonymous]

- - -

Together, he and Sungyeol ride out a time loop that lasts all afternoon. Sungyeol amuses himself by causing paradoxes in Myungsoo’s living room. Myungsoo tries to play along too, but eventually he ends up lying back on his coach, camera clutched in his hands, only getting to check the clock every once in a while. It never passes 3:52 - every time it seems like it might, all of a sudden it is 3:38 again, and they relive the same fourteen minutes one more time. Eventually, Sungyeol has to sit on him to prevent him from looking at the clock again and again - “You’re driving yourself crazy, you idiot,” he says, and crosses his legs over Myungsoo’s lap, distracting Myungsoo by telling nonsense puzzles and stories about his childhood.

After it is done, and the clock finally clicks past 3:52, Sungyeol asks him, “Are you alright?”

It takes an enormous effort for Myungsoo to sit up again. For a few moments, all he can do is stare at the space behind Sungyeol’s head - then, without even thinking, he raises the camera to his eyes and snaps a photo of Sungyeol - this is all he can do, because there aren’t any words that can possibly describe the things that he needs to say, so instead, he does what he has always done when he doesn’t know what else to do.

“What was that for?” Sungyeol asks. He sounds like he’s not sure whether to be irked or to be curious - for Myungsoo, though, he’ll give the benefit of the doubt.

“I just,” Myungsoo says, before he pauses, tries to collect his thoughts - “I just have to know that this is real. Because if it’s there in the photo -”

“ - Then it must have really, truly been there. Yeah. I know,” Sungyeol replies, because he’s heard Myungsoo explain it before. He holds out his hands, crooks his fingers upwards, a silent request to see the camera. Myungsoo only hesitates for a second before he hands it over.

“You’re the first person to touch it besides me in a long time,” he admits. There’s a note of fear in his voice, because he feels like he’s just handed over his heart.

Sungyeol sighs. “Then I’m sorry to have to do this,” he replies, before he opens up the slot and takes the film out, exposing it to the afternoon sun filtering through the windows, and suddenly Myungsoo can feel his heart beating faster, harder, pounding in his ears - he thinks about silver-halide, about chemical reactions and how just the slightest bit of exposure ruins film, ruins it irrevocably, how the pictures of the photobook and of himself reflected in the mirror and most importantly Sungyeol are all gone, just like that -

“What’s real is what you want to be real,” Sungyeol says. “You shouldn’t rely on this anymore, Myungsoo. It can’t decide for you. This is real. I am real. We are real - why can’t you believe in that?”

There is a strangled, choking noise that tears out of Myungsoo’s throat, so raw and foreign and agonized that for a few moments Myungsoo doesn’t even realize that it is coming from him, nor does he notice that he is crying until Sungyeol reaches over and wipes a tear from his cheek. “I’m sorry,” Sungyeol says again, softer this time.

“It was going to run out eventually,” Myungsoo tries to say, but his voice seizes up half-way through and instead he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s not that easy,” he wants to tell Sungyeol, but he doesn’t know how to explain why.

“I understand, if you hate me for this,” Sungyeol tells him, but Myungsoo doesn’t know how to feel, or if he should feel at all.