nobody knows (they've got a ticket to that show).
nobody knows (they've got a ticket to that show).
sungyeol/sungjong - g - angst, character study(?) - 1037 words
nobody knows, but Sungjong does. nobody sees, but he sees it clearly, as the walls grow taller and thinner.
Maybe it's because they've spent too much time together. Maybe it's because Sungjong knows Sungyeol almost as well as he knows himself. Maybe it's because he brightens with every smile that Sungyeol shoots him, but he also knows when it's a show, when he's really tired, when all he wants is to let go of the shaky framework holding his walls up just for a moment.
Sometimes Sungjong crawls to Sungyeol's bed, pretending to be afraid, pretending to be weak when he senses that Sungyeol's actually feeling that way. He knows that it's not really helping, but he likes the warmth of Sungyeol's arms around his body. He likes feeling protected. He likes knowing that Sungyeol feels even a tiny bit better when he has someone to protect, whether it be him, his image, or Sungjong.
Sungyeol keeps Sungjong awake when he tells the older male that he's scared to fall back asleep again. There are some nightmares that truly plague Sungjong's mind, the ones that he could never talk about to anyone. Sungyeol, despite the bags under his eyes, turns on the lights and sits beside Sungjong, eyes still bleary as they adjust to the brightness.
"So," Sungyeol starts, beginning to activate his usual emotional barrier. Sometimes, Sungjong feels bad that he has to make Sungyeol do this. He feels bad that he can't be the one to break them down, and the only thing he knows how to do is ask Sungyeol to keep those walls stronger and to stop everyone from seeing the true Sungyeol that they've never had a chance to see before.
"So?" Sungjong answers, playing with the hem of his shirt. Hesitant if he's doing the right thing. Wanting to do more.
"So," he smiles, "I heard there's chocolate milk in the fridge."
Sungjong grins back, and they stand to leave their shared room. This is a game they often play: how much can you do before someone catches you awake? They're pretty good at this, even if they have to hold onto the edges of the table just to hold back their laughter sometimes.
As they bring out the glasses and the carton and a pack of chips that Sungjong hid from everyone else, he remembers how this always plays out when the others are here. They're tired, always tired, but Sungyeol always tries to be a little perkier, a little more energetic, a little more headstrong as he faces the exhausted men in front of him.
Sungjong knows laughter, drinks spilled and spit out because of ridiculous jokes. Sungjong knows the sight of smiles growing despite the tired eyes above them. Sungjong knows that there is a little happiness in those moments when he tries to be the support of the group in his own way.
What Sungjong feels is exhaustion, even more than the others. What he feels is the sizzling frustration under his skin, the need to claw out his own face to show that it's just a mask, a façade. What he feels is the silent plea for help, one that he can't respond to because he doesn't know how, because he's also too busy holding up his own walls to help someone break down theirs.
Sungyeol pokes his cheek, bringing him back to reality. "What's with you? Are you still thinking about that nightmare of yours?"
Sungjong shivers involuntarily. He didn't have it tonight, but the mere thought of it scares him. The feeling of falling, deep into a hole where all his insecurities and fears lie; it's the worst nightmare. Heights have never scared him more than in this particular dream of his.
He takes a sip of the milk, sweet taste flooding his senses for a second. Sungjong looks up and Sungyeol's staring at him with concern in his eyes, and this is something that's very genuine coming from Sungyeol. He's Sungjong's friend, even more than his groupmate or his hyung, and his care is always real. That isn't something that's easy to fake.
"Sungyeol…" Sungjong trails off.
"Sungyeol hyung," he sternly reminds, but it still sounds like a bit of a joke to Sungjong's ears. He rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head.
"Sungyeol," he says firmly. Sungjong doesn't look up, doesn't want to anyway. Right now he wants to tell Sungyeol to break down, to cry, to let Sungjong in for once.
Sungyeol reaches forward to hold both of his hands, and then he steps towards him to place a kiss on his lips.
There's nothing more comfortable than this: bodies radiating warmth to each other, soft lips meeting in an exquisite dance that neither of them have ever experienced before, hands stilling from all its shaking then moving to pull each other closer and closer. Neither of them have ever felt a hesitant push turn into a passionate tug of war, their need growing as soon as they realize how much of it has been buried and hidden from themselves.
They pull away, but before he gets too far, Sungjong pulls Sungyeol into a tight hug. "Please don't push me away when I ask you to let me in."
"Okay," he answers. It's a shaky whisper, muffled slightly by Sungjong's neck. "Okay," Sungyeol repeats, and it's not just a response. It's a promise.
Sungjong steps back, hands gripping Sungyeol's shoulders. "Let me in. Don't hide things from me or tell me that you're alright when you're not."
"I won't. And you don't need to pretend that you're weak to make me feel strong. You don't need to try and support me by making me feel like I'm needed." A little sliver of hurt flashes in Sungyeol's eyes as he says that. Sungjong shakes his head, dropping his hands to hold Sungyeol's again.
"I don't pretend to need you because I do. I do need you. I do want you. I could never lie about that."
Sungyeol lifts a hand, pressing the backs of their hands against Sungjong's cheek. Sungjong smiles shakily, lunging forward to hug him again. The walls have been broken down, but there's no need for the men behind them to break too. Sometimes when you let someone in, you both grow stronger than you've ever known.
a/n: so how was that for my first infinite fic? haha why am i so nervous
title from lenka's "the show"
sungyeol/sungjong - g - angst, character study(?) - 1037 words
nobody knows, but Sungjong does. nobody sees, but he sees it clearly, as the walls grow taller and thinner.
Maybe it's because they've spent too much time together. Maybe it's because Sungjong knows Sungyeol almost as well as he knows himself. Maybe it's because he brightens with every smile that Sungyeol shoots him, but he also knows when it's a show, when he's really tired, when all he wants is to let go of the shaky framework holding his walls up just for a moment.
Sometimes Sungjong crawls to Sungyeol's bed, pretending to be afraid, pretending to be weak when he senses that Sungyeol's actually feeling that way. He knows that it's not really helping, but he likes the warmth of Sungyeol's arms around his body. He likes feeling protected. He likes knowing that Sungyeol feels even a tiny bit better when he has someone to protect, whether it be him, his image, or Sungjong.
Sungyeol keeps Sungjong awake when he tells the older male that he's scared to fall back asleep again. There are some nightmares that truly plague Sungjong's mind, the ones that he could never talk about to anyone. Sungyeol, despite the bags under his eyes, turns on the lights and sits beside Sungjong, eyes still bleary as they adjust to the brightness.
"So," Sungyeol starts, beginning to activate his usual emotional barrier. Sometimes, Sungjong feels bad that he has to make Sungyeol do this. He feels bad that he can't be the one to break them down, and the only thing he knows how to do is ask Sungyeol to keep those walls stronger and to stop everyone from seeing the true Sungyeol that they've never had a chance to see before.
"So?" Sungjong answers, playing with the hem of his shirt. Hesitant if he's doing the right thing. Wanting to do more.
"So," he smiles, "I heard there's chocolate milk in the fridge."
Sungjong grins back, and they stand to leave their shared room. This is a game they often play: how much can you do before someone catches you awake? They're pretty good at this, even if they have to hold onto the edges of the table just to hold back their laughter sometimes.
As they bring out the glasses and the carton and a pack of chips that Sungjong hid from everyone else, he remembers how this always plays out when the others are here. They're tired, always tired, but Sungyeol always tries to be a little perkier, a little more energetic, a little more headstrong as he faces the exhausted men in front of him.
Sungjong knows laughter, drinks spilled and spit out because of ridiculous jokes. Sungjong knows the sight of smiles growing despite the tired eyes above them. Sungjong knows that there is a little happiness in those moments when he tries to be the support of the group in his own way.
What Sungjong feels is exhaustion, even more than the others. What he feels is the sizzling frustration under his skin, the need to claw out his own face to show that it's just a mask, a façade. What he feels is the silent plea for help, one that he can't respond to because he doesn't know how, because he's also too busy holding up his own walls to help someone break down theirs.
Sungyeol pokes his cheek, bringing him back to reality. "What's with you? Are you still thinking about that nightmare of yours?"
Sungjong shivers involuntarily. He didn't have it tonight, but the mere thought of it scares him. The feeling of falling, deep into a hole where all his insecurities and fears lie; it's the worst nightmare. Heights have never scared him more than in this particular dream of his.
He takes a sip of the milk, sweet taste flooding his senses for a second. Sungjong looks up and Sungyeol's staring at him with concern in his eyes, and this is something that's very genuine coming from Sungyeol. He's Sungjong's friend, even more than his groupmate or his hyung, and his care is always real. That isn't something that's easy to fake.
"Sungyeol…" Sungjong trails off.
"Sungyeol hyung," he sternly reminds, but it still sounds like a bit of a joke to Sungjong's ears. He rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head.
"Sungyeol," he says firmly. Sungjong doesn't look up, doesn't want to anyway. Right now he wants to tell Sungyeol to break down, to cry, to let Sungjong in for once.
Sungyeol reaches forward to hold both of his hands, and then he steps towards him to place a kiss on his lips.
There's nothing more comfortable than this: bodies radiating warmth to each other, soft lips meeting in an exquisite dance that neither of them have ever experienced before, hands stilling from all its shaking then moving to pull each other closer and closer. Neither of them have ever felt a hesitant push turn into a passionate tug of war, their need growing as soon as they realize how much of it has been buried and hidden from themselves.
They pull away, but before he gets too far, Sungjong pulls Sungyeol into a tight hug. "Please don't push me away when I ask you to let me in."
"Okay," he answers. It's a shaky whisper, muffled slightly by Sungjong's neck. "Okay," Sungyeol repeats, and it's not just a response. It's a promise.
Sungjong steps back, hands gripping Sungyeol's shoulders. "Let me in. Don't hide things from me or tell me that you're alright when you're not."
"I won't. And you don't need to pretend that you're weak to make me feel strong. You don't need to try and support me by making me feel like I'm needed." A little sliver of hurt flashes in Sungyeol's eyes as he says that. Sungjong shakes his head, dropping his hands to hold Sungyeol's again.
"I don't pretend to need you because I do. I do need you. I do want you. I could never lie about that."
Sungyeol lifts a hand, pressing the backs of their hands against Sungjong's cheek. Sungjong smiles shakily, lunging forward to hug him again. The walls have been broken down, but there's no need for the men behind them to break too. Sometimes when you let someone in, you both grow stronger than you've ever known.
a/n: so how was that for my first infinite fic? haha why am i so nervous
title from lenka's "the show"