ISS 2012: for samstrident
Title: if you leave me tonight, i’ll wake up alone
Pairing/Focus: ot7, sungyeol/sungjong, woohyun/sungyeol
Rating: nc-17
Word count: 6500w~
Summary: Where Infinite gets drunk and falls into a place they never thought they’d end up at.
To: samstrident
From: Your Secret Santa
The end is the beginning, sort of.
It’s three in the morning, wheels grazing against asphalt, whispers of city lights and quiet traffic. They pull by a roadside stall, Woohyun slipping out of the car first. It’s cold, not because of the autumn breeze. (They’re covered from head to toe in scarves, caps, sunglasses, masks, big furry coats.)
But it’s cold, cold to the bone, because the holes in their hearts, feeling slipping past their fingertips.
The stall vendor and Infinite exchange bows. She exclaims, “What pretty boys!”, obviously not knowing who they are. It’s good though, to stay away from the press and the crazy fans for once.
“Soju and one big plate of spicy rice cakes please!” Sunggyu orders. His eyes are marred with grey, lips pale and tearing.
“Coming right up!”
They all sit around a long table, bodies hunched.
Nothing has been going right.
Words breed on silence. Whatever that’s happened feels like an invisible weight on them, and their shoulders stiffen, their eyes don’t meet. The future seems grim.
(Sungyeol has slipped into a coma. Infinite goes on a hiatus and the company is even considering to disband them.)
It takes a while to register the alcohol. Thoughts don’t draw like straight lines, instead beginning to curve into waves, messy and transient. Shades of grey, rather than problems put down in black and white. Heartache almost washes away with the soju, almost.
Woohyun laughs. All of them do. But the laughter sounds more like sobbing. Chests bursting, backs bending. The world seems less sharper, and they don’t see the edges. Everything just turns into blurred colours and everything they say is slurred, like wordless voices, just the way they like it, just the way they want it.
A more conscious part of him thanks god that it’s 3 AM and there aren’t any fans following them around. He imagines Infinite on the headlines and laughs instead of worries.
Sunggyu's phone rings. It might be their managers, but then again, who the fuck cares now? Wrong feels so right, fucking up feels so damn good.
"Don't pick it up, hyung." Woohyun wriggles his eyebrows at the leader.
"Yes, don't pick- up. Me- aha. Ha fucking ha." Sunggyu drinks up another time.
Myungsoo has a stupid grin pasted onto his face, but he's quiet, and his cheeks are coloured with an ugly blotch of crimson.
The stall vendor walks over to them, questioning them out of concern, but they laugh it off. Woohyun even asks her to fuck off. Her impression of them changes within the second, but yeah, who cares.
Who cares? Woohyun asks himself bitterly. Who cares if Infinite's crumbling? Who cares if Woollim might just throw them away? Who cares if Sungyeol might just never wake up? Who cares if they might come apart and turn into a group of subunits and soloists?
Infinite is stitched into his vision, the seven of them shining on stage, the stage they call home.
Sungjong's the most sober of them all, though red-faced. He tugs on Sunggyu's arm, "Hyung, c'mon. Let's go."
'Mmm, let's go," the older man curls and uncurls his fist, chuckling into Sungjong's collar.
Dongwoo drives and they're far too gone to realise it's actually fucking dangerous. He steers the wheel with eyes crinkled into crescents, laughter loud and contagious and really, they all can't stop laughing. It rips through them, they can only crackle, and come apart, even harder, even faster.
The car swerves indiscriminately. Howon nibbles on Sungjong's ear at the back seat and the younger pushes him away, punching him on the nose. Woohyun laughs as if it's the fucking funniest thing that's ever happened, spurred on by Dongwoo's reckless driving and the alcohol that burns at his throat.
"Guys, stop, don't. Huh- mmm," Sunggyu throws his head back against his seat, groaning a little.
"Mmmm," Dongwoo hums along.
Screeching tyres, shattering glass.
♡
Woohyun wakes up cheek against the window, bones cold, skin burning. It hurts and he doesn’t know why. The crimson streaks covering his arms and thighs, his tattered bermudas, the holes in his coat, they all don’t trigger any memory of what’s happened before. All he knows is that he feels like he’s on fire, and he vaguely remembers the smell of boiling rice cakes and alcohol.
“Ugh, shit.” The world doesn’t shift on the right axis. Tasting bile at the back of his tongue, he immediately regrets waking up.
“Woohyun?” Sunggyu stirs awake next to him, fingers curling onto his arm for support. The younger man instinctually shrugs him off. “Where the fuck are we?”
Somehow, he’s oddly reminded of dancing figures, perspiration trickling down the temples, nape, ankles, bass set in the pulse, in synchronised heartbeats.
“I don’t know.” Hazy vision, cheeks stained with tear tracks.
“This, this is our van.” Sunggyu throws his head back, hand massaging the temples.
Tilting his head, Woohyun squints to make out whatever that’s before him. The others begin to wake up, a mess of soft groans and aching bodies. The only things missing are hearts beating in unison, hearts beating for the same dream, the same life they thought they have achieved and it shatters around them like a house of cards.
Myungsoo attempts to stand up, feet pressing into glass shards instead. He winces, gripping onto the seat for support, and throws himself back, face contorted in pain.
“Where the hell.” Sungjong peeks out the window, or actually, the broken window.
Woohyun does that, too. The world outside doesn’t make sense, like splashes of ethereal colours on a canvas. They’re parked by a roadside, and further down seems like a highway to hell, further down seems like a trip down memory lane. Further down seems like it’d tear them away from reality. It’s like being stuck in a weird dream. But dreams are fragmented memories and he doesn’t remember coming here before.
“Let’s get out,” Sunggyu suggests. They all mumble in agreement and stumble out of the vehicle, heavy hearts and light footsteps.
Soles drag across gravel, but there’s a skip in their steps. Their toes curl a little, too, almost like ballerinas when they rise onto pointe. The ground, the universe underneath feels like illusions of solidity, but there isn’t a fear of falling. They don’t have to hold on as well, freedom traced into their movements in indiscernible letters. Light, like froth moustaches. Floaty, like thin streaks of clouds hovering above the horizon. Woohyun even finds himself smiling.
Ombre skies and naked trees, rotten souls draped over their branches. The air smells like death, like metal and blood, and maybe he hears a distant crash, bodies jolting forward, glass cutting into flesh, lungs on fire, final heartbeats.
“Where were we before this? Fuck, guys, try to remember.”
He’s anxious, or at least he thinks is. There are sparks of electricity where his fingers touch, and he holds onto the sensation. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s dead.
Sunggyu doesn’t know the answer; he reaches his arm out instead, wanting to touch the creases on Woohyun’s forehead.
“Soju. We went out for soju,” Sungjong answers quietly, “and we got drunk, and Dongwoo hyung was driving and, I think, fuck.”
“Oh my god,” Woohyun closes his eyes, “oh my god.”
Howon panickedly puts a hand over his chest. “My heart. It’s still beating.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Sungjong frowns. He puts his hand over his chest too. Howon lifts the youngest member’s arm, pressing a finger against the wrist, finding a pulse.
“So we’re not dead. We’re not dead,” Sunggyu mumbles, as if talking to himself.
And suddenly, Dongwoo explodes with laughter. Laughter that slices through the air, loud, piercing, contagious. The other members slowly follow suit, with heads thrown back. Woohyun stares at them like they’re fucking crazy. But Dongwoo sees how nonsensical the situation is and it’s really fucking funny and he can’t help it.
As Sunggyu clutches his stomach, eyes pressed into slits, he chokes, “Woohyun, where are you going?”
“Leaving you guys alone, obviously,” Woohyun hisses, stalking ahead. Sunggyu chases after him, pulling him back. “Hey, you okay?”
“Am I okay? Hyung, we got into a fucking car accident and we’re stuck in god knows where and here you guys are, laughing your asses off for nothing. Ask yourselves if you’re okay. I’m gonna go explore this place.”
Sunggyu sighs. He can’t even bring himself to lash out at Woohyun and his shitty temper.
“Look, we’ll go together. Okay?”
“Whatever.”
Turning around, he beckons the other members to join them. “Come on, guys. We’re gonna explore this place, at least find out where we are.”
They’re still laughing, but jogging over at the very least, a group of dangling arms, strained smiles and hurried footsteps. It’s been awhile seeing them like this, Sunggyu thinks. Not that he had the time to be with them often either. Ever since Sungyeol’s accident, the company has been focusing more on the members’ solo activities. And Sunggyu just had finished his debut promotions. He was so busy, always reaching the dorm only after the other guys have fallen asleep. It didn’t feel like home, without Woohyun waiting up for him in their room.
They tread down the lane like dying laugher and drying scars. Woohyun almost feels guilty. He is the mood changer in the group after all, always lightening up the atmosphere whenever the members get scolded or made mistakes. And now, the way his brows furrow, fists clench and teeth bite into lower lip rubs off the other guys, as if stealing their right to laugh freely or be happy about something. He wants to tell them sorry but looks at the ground instead, as they walk in silence.
In the distance, there’s a familiar figure sitting on the sidewalk. He’s oddly reminded of long, tangled limbs and cheeky grins.
A spark of anxiety. It evolves into something stronger, something surging through Woohyun’s veins and it gets a little harder to breathe. He staggers even faster forwards. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Fuck, Woohyun!” The figure jolts out of his position, squinting his eyes.
“Sungyeol!” The other members behind him begin to exclaim one by one. Woohyun freezes.
Everybody’s howling, screaming, lunging for Sungyeol but Woohyun drowns himself out. This isn’t right. He curls his fists so hard his knuckles show. It feels so real. Too real, even. It’s not supposed to make sense but it does, anyway.
He thinks Sungjong’s crying. He doesn’t really notice. He studies the way rays of light beat on Sungyeol’s hair instead, and how his face is glowing. Almost ethereal. He wonders if it’s real to the touch and squeezes past the members, fingers cupping his wrist. There. That same warmth, the same skin plastered over bones.
“Fuck.” He smiles in a long time. A real smile. The kind of smile he smiles at his fans because he loves them so much, because what was Infinite without them? “Fuck, Sungyeol. Fuck.”
♡
“This is the place between life and death.” Sungyeol closes his eyes, “You guys aren’t going to die. This is just somewhere you wait to have your lives back.”
“Does this mean,” Sungjong says instead, squeezing on Sungyeol’s shoulder, “that you’ll wake up?”
“Yes, I will.” The older man smiles, eyes crinkling into crescents. Woohyun stares at him and thinks the smile doesn’t look right. Sungjong tiptoes, running his fingers through Sungyeol’s hair, fingers trailing down and along the jawline, pulling at the cheek. Sungyeol puts his hands on Sungjong’s face and laughs against his forehead. A wave of vertigo hits Woohyun as he watches.
Howon walks over as well, tugging on Sungyeol’s arm. There he is, still the same old tangled mess of limbs as if stuck in pubescence forever. Lanky, skinny, angled bones pressing hard into his palm and his breath turns hitched, because Lee Sungyeol is here, awake, and so fucking real.
Rendered speechless, Sunggyu watches them quietly. Dongwoo clings to him, teary-eyed. And it hurts because they’ve missed him so much, it hurts because who the fuck knows that this might just all be a dream they’ll wake up from.
But it doesn’t hurt like it hurts for Sungyeol, Sunggyu thinks as the younger man grips harder onto the material of Sungjong’s shirt and flashes shaky smiles at Howon and Woohyun, eyes glassy. Myungsoo has his fists clenched, fingernails tearing into palms, fresh cuts and unsteady breathing.
Funny. It’s funny you can want something so badly and when it appears right before you, you can’t choose to believe in it.
“How long will we be here? What have these two months been like?” Woohyun asks softly, looking away.
“I’m not sure, heh. These two months have been boring as fuck.” Sungyeol pouts and then sighs afterwards, “I’ve missed you guys. A lot.”
It’s only seconds before Dongwoo starts bawling, running over to him and wrapping him in his arms. Sungyeol chuckles, nails clawing at his thighs. He doesn’t want to cry too.
“I’m glad- I’m glad you’re here,” the older man wails. And Sungyeol’s widely known for his childish behaviour both off stage and on shows but right now, Dongwoo feels like a kid in his arms. He’s reminded of how he can always count on Dongwoo to pour his troubles to, because even though Dongwoo’s not the type to give coherent advice but he listens and drapes an arm around the shoulder as a form of silent comfort.
Dongwoo’s a ball of sunshine and nobody can ever bring themselves to dislike him. Though sometimes his innocent image feels a little too exaggerated, it's a mask he's learnt to put on whenever they go on schedules. Outside, he's still all laugh lines and million dollar smiles. And whenever Sungyeol buries his face into Dongwoo’s shirt, his lungs filled up with the smell of Dongwoo, he’s immediately, infinitely happier. Like now.
“Myungsoo, come here. Stop standing there looking like an idiot.” Sungyeol rolls his eyes, tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Said man stalks over, arms dangling by his sides in an awkward manner. He scratches his head, honestly at a loss of what to say.
Myungsoo and Sungyeol share a special relationship. Where most fans put them together as a couple, they’re actually more of best friends who bicker over everything and anything. It’s hard for Myungsoo to open up but once he does, he’s so much louder. And Sungyeol personally hates those heart-to-heart talks with Myungsoo, but he sits through them, makes Myungsoo laugh, just because.
Two months have changed so many things though. Myungsoo doesn’t even dare to look at the other in the eye. Sungyeol lifts the younger man’s chin up, breaking into a full grin. “Hey.”
“Hey, hyung.”
“I missed you, you idiot.” Sungyeol ruffles Myungsoo’s hair.
“I missed you too-” Myungsoo begins, albeit softly and suddenly, Sungyeol’s left ear begins to bleed.
“Sungyeol!” Woohyun shouts, swiping blood that’s dripped onto the cartilage away.
“I’m fine,” Sungyeol mumbles, swatting him away. Woohyun doesn’t take his words though and immediately strips off his shirt, wiping the blood that’s gathered in his ear. Sungyeol bows a little, cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”
“Hyung, are you okay?” Myungsoo asks worriedly. The other members come closer, all furrowed brows and whispers of concern and worry.
“Guys, guys! I said I’m fine. Let’s move on now, shall we?”
“Where can we actually go to?” Sungjong sulks.
♡
They turn into the forest clearing. There’s a lot of sand, and a water body in the middle. People they don’t recognise linger around. They’re probably waiting to have their lives back, like Sungyeol.
But Sungyeol’s not supposed to have his life back, he’s not supposed to even be here.
Sungjong throws side glances at him, tugging at his arm occasionally as they saunter across the sand. He wants to relax, but his body is hunched, his shoulders stiffened. The place smells faintly of almost losing Sungyeol. And he doesn’t want to let go ever again.
“Somebody’s clingy today.” Sungyeol raises a brow at the younger man. He sounds like everything’s normal, like they were still performing together, eating together, sleeping together a day ago, not two months ago. Scrap that, he’s trying too hard to sound normal. Sungjong only winces.
“Remember how you used to not eat at all when you got angry?” Sungyeol tucks a flower behind Sungjong’s ear as the younger glares at him. They sit on a rock, facing the lake. The other members traverse the place, Dongwoo all shining eyes and bright laughter. Woohyun looks glum as ever though.
“Oh, ya? The only things I remember about you are how dumb and immature you were. Also, it’s good not having you around. It’s good not having to listen to your shitty voice, and watch you dance like a lunatic in the making," Sungjong spits back, nails denting into the other’s arm.
Sungyeol chuckles, “Aw. You’re right though. I couldn’t hang around to annoy you just a bit longer, just a little more.”
(I missed you. It sucked having to hold your hand without you lacing our fingers together. It sucked having to stay in the dorm, knowing that Infinite might break apart and not being able to do anything about it. It sucked not having you to banter with, not having you pulling stupid pranks on all of us. I missed you, hyung.)
“Sungjong?”
“Mhmm?”
“I missed you too.”
He tilts his head to look at Sungjong, eyes glazed. The younger man just glares at him. “Isn’t this the part where you kiss me?”
“You fucker.” Sungyeol raises his arm, about to flick his fingers onto the other’s forehead but Sungjong stops him midway and pulls the arm down, lifting his head up to peck on his lips instead. He misses though, ending up pecking on the chin and Sungyeol laughs. “You idiot.”
Sungyeol does kiss him anyway, cupping his face then pulling him in, lips centimeters apart. Open books where he nibbles on Sungjong’s lower lip. The younger opens his mouth and Sungyeol tries to shove deeper, until they’re running out of breath, all tongues and saliva and not giving a damn about the world around them.
Sungjong directs Sungyeol’s hand and puts it over his chest. I’m here, he says. I’m here and I won’t leave and promise you won’t too, hyung. They break away, gasping for air, noses nudging.
Sungyeol doesn’t promise him.
♡
Sungyeol coughs into his hands, palms mottled with specks of blood. Dongwoo pats on his back, as the younger man lapses into a fit of coughing and wheezing. Woohyun just eyes the blood and, he knows that something isn’t right. Nothing has felt right the moment they stepped in, actually. And Sungyeol trying so hard to pretend everything’s fine just makes things stranger.
So he grabs him by the arm and pulls him away from everybody and pins him against a trunk.
“What the fuck is up with you.”
“Woohyun, what the hell?”
“You’re bleeding everywhere, all the time. You- you’re not supposed to be here, right?”
“What are you talking about?” Sungyeol just says quietly, looking away. Woohyun cups his face and shifts it back so they’re facing each other, eye-to-eye.
“It doesn’t make any sense. You tell us this place is for people who are waiting to have their lives back. And it’s been two months since you’re stuck in a coma, wait, are you supposed to die?”
Sungyeol pushes Woohyun away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re not supposed to be here, aren’t you?” Woohyun prompts again, tugging at the other’s arm. “Stop lying to us!”
“Okay, fine. Yeah. You fucking got it right, man. Do you want a trophy?”
“Why didn’t you just,” Woohyun coughs, “move on?”
“I can’t.” His lips quiver, tears pooling in his eyes. “I just think about my trainee days, about our first album, our first concert, our Japanese debut and I can’t, Woohyun.”
Woohyun’s rendered speechless, the world passing by around them in slow-motion. Swaying trees, cloudless skies and Sungyeol’s nails digging into Woohyun’s skin, slow, painful, sayings of something excruciating, maybe a mutual understanding.
Woohyun understands. He does.
“Please don’t tell the others.” Sungyeol curls his toes.
“Sungyeol.” Woohyun doesn’t know what to do. He’s afraid if he says anything more, Sungyeol might come up with thoughts of him wanting to drive him away, as if he isn’t good enough. But no, that’s not the case, he thinks as curls his fingers onto the hem of the other’s sleeve. This isn’t right. Defying death isn’t right.
“I was supposed to die right after the accident.” Sungyeol shudders, vapour and carbon dioxide leaving his mouth in steamy swirls, accentuating his words as if they’re out to mock him. “I couldn’t move on. So they put me in a coma. And I’ve been staying here thinking if I stayed long enough, I’d get my life back. I’d get to live as Infinite’s Lee Sungyeol again.”
Woohyun’s face contorts, cheeks hollowing.
“You know, I wasn’t perfect. I couldn’t get my notes right and I sounded terrible. I always fucked up our performances. And it’s not like I’m particularly good at dancing. I could only count on my humor to keep me going. But everybody’s going to get sick of me trying to be funny all the time someday. Being alone here, I sometimes have thoughts like these and think, maybe it’s better for me to move on after all.” He shrugs.
“But I want to try. I want to try to be better. I missed all of you and there’s so much you guys did for me, so much being in Infinite did for me. I realised I had taken all of this for granted and I want to go back and try again. I want my life back, Woohyun.”
His shoulders start jerking and he begins coughing out blood again. Hurriedly, Woohyun rushes over to his side, hitting on Sungyeol’s back. Sungyeol just grips onto Woohyun’s wrist, hissing, “Don’t breathe a word to the others.”
Woohyun glares at him. No.
“Promise me,” Sungyeol cries aloud. Woohyun turns away from the other man and jogs off instead, joining the other members.
♡
That day, Woohyun doesn’t even spare a proper glance at Sungyeol. Sungyeol casually tries to grab his attention, being as subtle as he can, occasionally glimpsing over at him, flashing him desperate smiles. But Woohyun just rolls his eyes and sticks to another member as they travel, sometimes lagging behind alone. He feels angry, whether at himself or Sungyeol he’s unsure.
All of them decide to settle down on an empty field that’s, amusingly, right next to a meadow with flowers that glitter when the sky turns dark. They make a fire and this honestly feels like a camp, an adventure trip, rather than death.
(Woohyun doesn’t mention but there’s a painful tugging at his chest, as he notices how Sungjong sticks to Sungyeol all the time.)
Sungyeol, he thinks with a sigh. Lee fucking Sungyeol.
Woohyun was heartbroken when the accident happened. It’d take a hell lot of him to deal with the loss of a friend. Somebody he’s been living with, eating with, performing with, practising with. And having it all torn away from him out of the blue left him in trauma. Quiet trauma.
He started shying away from the other members, rejecting individual schedules, sleeping in more often. He needed to deal with it alone, he thought.
And he’s still breaking. But he doesn’t want Sungyeol to break, he thinks he deserves so much better. He’d let go, if Sungyeol could let go as well.
The sky turns from orange, to blue, then finally to indigo. Infinite watches the meadow come alive, flowers spiralling into balls of glitter, an ocean of flickering lights. Dongwoo playfully pushes Sungyeol forward and the younger man yelps, turning around and lightly hitting his shoulder. It’s warm, where seven of them are together and not apart. Warm where the flowers light up, warm where their hearts light up.
♡
“Hyung.” Woohyun saunters over. Sunggyu acknowledges his presence with a quick nod and they both curl forwards, feet almost touching the flickering embers. The other members are fast asleep, bodies heaving, lips slightly parted.
“It’s surprising to find you awake.”
“I could say the same for you.”
Sunggyu rubs his palms together, edging closer to Woohyun, their shoulders barely brushing past each other before the younger man slides away. Frowning, he asks in a quiet voice instead, “So, what’s up?”
Woohyun tucks his knees into his chest, propping his face up with his elbows. “Hyung, Sungyeol told me something today.”
Sunggyu raises a brow. “I noticed you pulling him away earlier on. What did he say?”
Scratching his head, Woohyun starts, “He’s- Well, he’s kind of not supposed to be here.”
“What do you mean?” Creasing forehead, narrowing eyes.
“You see, he’s stuck here because he can’t move on, hyung. He wasn’t even supposed to be in a coma.” He’s supposed to die gets stuck in his throat. Sunggyu hears it anyway. Gulping, the leader admits, “I already suspected something up with him, but I didn’t think...”
“Hyung, do you think it’s right he gets stuck here and perhaps never move on? He’s basically defying death. And I don’t even know what to tell him, hyung. He told me today about wanting his life back, about wanting to try again. He misses us, we miss him, but it’s just wrong. And it hurts, I really don’t like watching him suffer.”
And Woohyun can’t shut up once he starts pouring out his feelings. His genuine thoughts. This entire thing, about Sungyeol’s coma, has been consuming him from the inside since the day of the accident. The other members feel it too, the way Woohyun closes himself up from everybody else. If Sungyeol was dying, Woohyun wasn’t any better. Collapsing inside, fading away outside.
They know. They know he loves Sungyeol with every fiber of his being.
“Sometimes, I want to be selfish, Woohyun. I want to keep him with us. But you’re right,” Sunggyu pats him on the back, “you’re absolutely right.”
“Then help me persuade him, hyung.” Woohyun turns sideways, “Tell him to go. Tell him it’s alright to go.”
The desperate edge to his voice sends something shuddering into Sunggyu’s veins and he bites his lower lip in an attempt to drive the feeling away.
“Talk to him, hyung.” Woohyun shakes the other’s arm wildly. Sunggyu stands up, walking off into the meadow where the flowers glitter, with Woohyun scurrying after him.
“We’ll all talk to him. We’ll tell him to move on,” he assures the younger man, though sounding more like he’s assuring himself.
Woohyun touches a flower, a pink one. Glitter transitions into electricity where finger meets petal and runs through his veins. He jerks away, breathing intensified. But he feels lighter, more clear-headed. And he sighs into the night air, instead of screaming.
♡
An hour passes. The sky starts to light up, the flowers dimming. Woohyun pulls Sungyeol out of his sleeping position and the younger man rubs his eyes, dazed. Sunggyu puts a finger over his lips, signalling be quiet. Stirring, Sungjong peeks at them, wondering what they’re doing. He waits till they’ve left his sight then stands up, creeping after them wordlessly.
Woohyun pins Sungyeol against the wall, crashing his lips onto his and Sungyeol tilts his head downwards, breathing what the fuck against the other man’s chin. Their foreheads hit as Sunggyu cups Sungyeol’s right ear, leaning closer to nibble on the cartilage, hand slipping up under the shirt, thumb brushing past a nipple.
“What.” Sungyeol throws his head back, “What the fuck, hyung.”
Woohyun starts grinding against Sungyeol, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He bites on the lower lip, lets go for a second then shoves his mouth back, their teeth touching instead. Love tastes like metal.
Pulling down the sleeve, Sunggyu presses his lips onto the collarbone, incoherent whispers and closed eyes.
“Let go, Sungyeol.”
“Hyung,” he whines instead, against Woohyun’s lips. Woohyun observes the tent in his pants and almost smirks, kneeling down and stripping off his pants. Material pools around the ankles. Then he pulls down the underwear and cups the base, other hand stroking the cock.
“Fuck, hyung. Stop,” Sungyeol groans but he can’t focus. He thrusts into Woohyun’s hands, thoughts a mess and Sunggyu leaving burning touches where fingers meet skin and lips sucking purple over the canvas of his body isn’t making it any better.
Sungjong watches them and tries not to whimper, fingers shaking, heart palpitating. But Sunggyu turns his face sideways and notices him, mouthing, “Come here.”
A sob slips through the youngest member’s lips. He feels dizzy and he doesn’t understand what’s going on but Sungyeol succumbing to Woohyun’s godly hands is just really fucking hot and he can’t breathe, eyes still glued onto them.
“I said, come here.” The smile tugging at the corner of Sunggyu’s lips is anything but seductive. In fact, it’s heartbreaking. Confused, he stumbles towards them and Sungyeol watches him walk over with heart beating impossibly faster than before. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
“Sungjong, I- Fuck, Woohyun.” He clenches his fists, head pressing against the wall, not wanting to look at hands wrapped around cock, pumping the shaft, fingers tracing the veins.
Pulsating vision, heavy breathing, dark eyes.
“Fuck,” Sungjong curses, throwing an arm around Sunggyu’s shoulder instead, fingers rubbing over the adam’s apple. It bobs up and down with Sunggyu’s heavy breathing and Sungjong says quietly, “Help me, hyung.”
Sunggyu almost sighs and unzips the younger man’s pants. His lips wrap around the head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks and Sungjong moans, tugging on his hair and pulling him closer, bucking his hips and thrusting into his mouth, nails clawing at the scalp. With one eye shut, lips parted, all hot breaths and slippery moans, he peeks at Sungyeol and Woohyun with the other.
Sungyeol’s glancing at him too, a mess of fuck Woohyun, fuck you and your fucking hands. Woohyun whispers against the tip, thumb swiping the pre-come. “You’re beautiful, Sungyeol. So, so beautiful.”
And Sungyeol’s eyes grow red, tears pooling, chest swelling. He knows what they want from him, he knows what they’re trying to tell. But it hurts. He’s tired of waiting. Some part of him wants to let go too.
“You’re a beautiful, beautiful person, Sungyeol. Don’t forget.”
But I’ll forget if I go, Sungyeol tells him. I’ll forget and all of you will remember.
Woohyun pauses and the other almost groans. He feels up Sungyeol’s thighs with his hands. His big, now moist hands. And Sungyeol shudders, his voice trembling, moans quieter but still intense.
We love you, Woohyun says. And it’s because we love you we’re telling you to move on.
Sunggyu presses a knuckle into Sungjong’s hipbone, a speck of pink over beige. Cock sliding down the throat, it convulses and Sungjong’s scream. Goosebumps spiral out the flowerbed of Sungyeol’s skin as he hears the scream. Something rips through him.
Everything about Sungjong, really, leaves him fascinated. Sungjong, flower poking out the side crack. Mesmerizing and absolutely gorgeous. He leaves Sungyeol’s mouth tasting bittersweet.
“Just go.”
Sungyeol explodes with a grunt into Woohyun’s hands. They both pant, chests rising and falling. Sungjong comes all over Sunggyu’s mouth, streaks of white dripping down the chin.
“Just go? Go from where?” the maknae asks softly. And his voice is so tender, laced with the afterglow of his orgasm. Sungyeol doesn’t want to break his heart.
So Woohyun starts for him. “Sungyeol’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be dead.”
♡
Today, the sky is red. Graduating shades of red, from terra cotta to electric crimson. Sungyeol’s nose bleeds a third time before the other members slowly begin to wake up, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.
He begins admitting to everything. Howon stares blankly at him, unable to respond.
Woohyun cups Sungyeol’s face and pulls him in. They kiss like hot breaths and twirling tongues, and their bodies press up against each other, a mess of pulsating veins and heaving chests and hummingbird heartbeats. Woohyun’s fingers burn on Sungyeol’s cheek, and they trail over the canvas of peachy white, along the jawline, down to the collarbone where he rubs circles over skin.
Sungjong sobs into Sungyeol’s back, fingers pressing into the material of his shirt. Myungsoo watches from aside, eyes welling up with tears. He wants to make it all better but he doesn't know how. Having been thrown into the entertainment industry for a pretty long time, they all learnt that things don't magically get better.
Sungyeol breaks away, squeaking, "Guys."
"Just go. Move on, Sungyeol. There's a better place," Woohyun whispers, breath hot against the other's chin. And a chill runs down Sungyeol's spine. He doesn't know what to feel. Woohyun has always been there for him, from their trainee days, even up till now, when they're trapped in the place between life and death.
They might have not liked each other when they first met, but slowly, their friendship grows into the meetings where lips mesh, tongues twirl and fingers curl onto the napes of necks speak of something so much more.
Woohyun's always reassuring Sungyeol when he feels like he fucked up during their practices or performances. Woohyun's always advising him to overcome his low self-esteem and perform with more confidence. Woohyun’s always giving him tips on how to sing better during their spare time.
And Sungyeol's always growing and learning, along with what Woohyun does for him, along with being in Infinite. It hadn't been easy, and he'd always complain about the work being overly tiring, about not getting enough time for himself, about barely being able to see his family. But now, twenty-one and dying, he sees it all in a new light and realises how much this all means to him.
He doesn't want to let it go.
"I missed you. I still miss you, even now, when you're here in front of me. But I don't want you to suffer. That's what friends are for, right?" Woohyun sounds painfully unsure of what he's saying.
No, Sungyeol wants to say, we are more than friends. We are family.
Infinite is family. Beyond the scripted shows, ninety-nine percent synchronisation, Sunggyu lashing out at all of them during practices, it’s family where hands knead into skin, where Myungsoo decidedly plops down on Dongwoo’s lap and the older man laughs into his hair, where Sungyeol pulls a dumb prank on the members and everybody laughs instead of staying angry at him.
It’s family where Woohyun listens to Sunggyu talk worriedly about their group’s progress and about his own solo debut, where Sungyeol and Sungjong pull off quick kisses in between schedules. It’s family where they sit around the television and watch another episode of Reply 1997 and Howon blushes at his own acting.
Sungjong fists into Sungyeol’s shirt, lips trembling.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
It scares Sungyeol a little seeing him like this. Sungjong’s always been rebellious, strong-headed and never liked showing off any form of weakness. Right now, he looks vulnerable, all open scars and bubbling blood.
And it hurts, the tugging at his chest grows stronger, painful. His nose starts to bleed, blood trailing down his upper lip, and Woohyun tiptoes to press his lips onto the philtrum.
“Go now, before it gets worse. Stop waiting around, don’t defy death. Just go, Sungyeol.”
Sungyeol nods dazedly. “I miss you too. Even if I cease to exist, I’ll still miss all of you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Things would have never been the same if I wasn’t in Infinite, if I never met all of you. And I- I’m so sorry because I lack in so many things and I love of all of you and there’s really no other way I can put it. I’ll move on, so I hope all of you can too.”
“There’s the light.” Woohyun points upwards to the portal.
“I know. I’m going now. Fuck, guys. I’m really going.” And nobody can stop Sungyeol when he starts crying, all bloodshot eyes and quivering lips.
A bright, white light envelops him.
♡
Woohyun wakes up cheek against the pillow, bones cold, skin burning. It hurts and he doesn’t know why. The crimson streaks covering his arms and thighs, his tattered bermudas, the holes in his coat, they all don’t trigger any memory of what’s happened before. All he knows is that he feels like he’s on fire.
“Fuck,” he curses, “it hurts.”
The room smells like medicine and detergent, fluorescent lights blinding. It’s painful to keep his eyes open.
A nurse raps on the door before stalking in, cheeks coloured crimson. She probably recognises him, he thinks. Tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, she asks gently, “Are you feeling better, Woohyun-sshi?”
“Yeah,” he answers quickly, trying not to snap at her. He squints, barely making out the shape of her face, the thickness of her eyebrows. There’s swirls of movement where her fingers curl onto the clipboard and he groans, trying to register his surroundings.
Something flashes across his mind, flitting images, vivid but temporary. There’s a tugging at his chest. But this time, it isn’t foreign.
(PS: He tries his best not to cry. But the tears fall, anyway. They always do.)
a/n: this is really, really bad and probably not what you expected! i hope you don’t hate me after reading this ;;;; but i hope you like it anyway even though i’m sure it’s not up to standard. anyway, this is based on the second prompt! heh.
(thanks to lutes for beta, and to tlist for bearing with my shit.)
Pairing/Focus: ot7, sungyeol/sungjong, woohyun/sungyeol
Rating: nc-17
Word count: 6500w~
Summary: Where Infinite gets drunk and falls into a place they never thought they’d end up at.
To: samstrident
From: Your Secret Santa
The end is the beginning, sort of.
It’s three in the morning, wheels grazing against asphalt, whispers of city lights and quiet traffic. They pull by a roadside stall, Woohyun slipping out of the car first. It’s cold, not because of the autumn breeze. (They’re covered from head to toe in scarves, caps, sunglasses, masks, big furry coats.)
But it’s cold, cold to the bone, because the holes in their hearts, feeling slipping past their fingertips.
The stall vendor and Infinite exchange bows. She exclaims, “What pretty boys!”, obviously not knowing who they are. It’s good though, to stay away from the press and the crazy fans for once.
“Soju and one big plate of spicy rice cakes please!” Sunggyu orders. His eyes are marred with grey, lips pale and tearing.
“Coming right up!”
They all sit around a long table, bodies hunched.
Nothing has been going right.
Words breed on silence. Whatever that’s happened feels like an invisible weight on them, and their shoulders stiffen, their eyes don’t meet. The future seems grim.
(Sungyeol has slipped into a coma. Infinite goes on a hiatus and the company is even considering to disband them.)
It takes a while to register the alcohol. Thoughts don’t draw like straight lines, instead beginning to curve into waves, messy and transient. Shades of grey, rather than problems put down in black and white. Heartache almost washes away with the soju, almost.
Woohyun laughs. All of them do. But the laughter sounds more like sobbing. Chests bursting, backs bending. The world seems less sharper, and they don’t see the edges. Everything just turns into blurred colours and everything they say is slurred, like wordless voices, just the way they like it, just the way they want it.
A more conscious part of him thanks god that it’s 3 AM and there aren’t any fans following them around. He imagines Infinite on the headlines and laughs instead of worries.
Sunggyu's phone rings. It might be their managers, but then again, who the fuck cares now? Wrong feels so right, fucking up feels so damn good.
"Don't pick it up, hyung." Woohyun wriggles his eyebrows at the leader.
"Yes, don't pick- up. Me- aha. Ha fucking ha." Sunggyu drinks up another time.
Myungsoo has a stupid grin pasted onto his face, but he's quiet, and his cheeks are coloured with an ugly blotch of crimson.
The stall vendor walks over to them, questioning them out of concern, but they laugh it off. Woohyun even asks her to fuck off. Her impression of them changes within the second, but yeah, who cares.
Who cares? Woohyun asks himself bitterly. Who cares if Infinite's crumbling? Who cares if Woollim might just throw them away? Who cares if Sungyeol might just never wake up? Who cares if they might come apart and turn into a group of subunits and soloists?
Infinite is stitched into his vision, the seven of them shining on stage, the stage they call home.
Sungjong's the most sober of them all, though red-faced. He tugs on Sunggyu's arm, "Hyung, c'mon. Let's go."
'Mmm, let's go," the older man curls and uncurls his fist, chuckling into Sungjong's collar.
Dongwoo drives and they're far too gone to realise it's actually fucking dangerous. He steers the wheel with eyes crinkled into crescents, laughter loud and contagious and really, they all can't stop laughing. It rips through them, they can only crackle, and come apart, even harder, even faster.
The car swerves indiscriminately. Howon nibbles on Sungjong's ear at the back seat and the younger pushes him away, punching him on the nose. Woohyun laughs as if it's the fucking funniest thing that's ever happened, spurred on by Dongwoo's reckless driving and the alcohol that burns at his throat.
"Guys, stop, don't. Huh- mmm," Sunggyu throws his head back against his seat, groaning a little.
"Mmmm," Dongwoo hums along.
Screeching tyres, shattering glass.
♡
Woohyun wakes up cheek against the window, bones cold, skin burning. It hurts and he doesn’t know why. The crimson streaks covering his arms and thighs, his tattered bermudas, the holes in his coat, they all don’t trigger any memory of what’s happened before. All he knows is that he feels like he’s on fire, and he vaguely remembers the smell of boiling rice cakes and alcohol.
“Ugh, shit.” The world doesn’t shift on the right axis. Tasting bile at the back of his tongue, he immediately regrets waking up.
“Woohyun?” Sunggyu stirs awake next to him, fingers curling onto his arm for support. The younger man instinctually shrugs him off. “Where the fuck are we?”
Somehow, he’s oddly reminded of dancing figures, perspiration trickling down the temples, nape, ankles, bass set in the pulse, in synchronised heartbeats.
“I don’t know.” Hazy vision, cheeks stained with tear tracks.
“This, this is our van.” Sunggyu throws his head back, hand massaging the temples.
Tilting his head, Woohyun squints to make out whatever that’s before him. The others begin to wake up, a mess of soft groans and aching bodies. The only things missing are hearts beating in unison, hearts beating for the same dream, the same life they thought they have achieved and it shatters around them like a house of cards.
Myungsoo attempts to stand up, feet pressing into glass shards instead. He winces, gripping onto the seat for support, and throws himself back, face contorted in pain.
“Where the hell.” Sungjong peeks out the window, or actually, the broken window.
Woohyun does that, too. The world outside doesn’t make sense, like splashes of ethereal colours on a canvas. They’re parked by a roadside, and further down seems like a highway to hell, further down seems like a trip down memory lane. Further down seems like it’d tear them away from reality. It’s like being stuck in a weird dream. But dreams are fragmented memories and he doesn’t remember coming here before.
“Let’s get out,” Sunggyu suggests. They all mumble in agreement and stumble out of the vehicle, heavy hearts and light footsteps.
Soles drag across gravel, but there’s a skip in their steps. Their toes curl a little, too, almost like ballerinas when they rise onto pointe. The ground, the universe underneath feels like illusions of solidity, but there isn’t a fear of falling. They don’t have to hold on as well, freedom traced into their movements in indiscernible letters. Light, like froth moustaches. Floaty, like thin streaks of clouds hovering above the horizon. Woohyun even finds himself smiling.
Ombre skies and naked trees, rotten souls draped over their branches. The air smells like death, like metal and blood, and maybe he hears a distant crash, bodies jolting forward, glass cutting into flesh, lungs on fire, final heartbeats.
“Where were we before this? Fuck, guys, try to remember.”
He’s anxious, or at least he thinks is. There are sparks of electricity where his fingers touch, and he holds onto the sensation. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s dead.
Sunggyu doesn’t know the answer; he reaches his arm out instead, wanting to touch the creases on Woohyun’s forehead.
“Soju. We went out for soju,” Sungjong answers quietly, “and we got drunk, and Dongwoo hyung was driving and, I think, fuck.”
“Oh my god,” Woohyun closes his eyes, “oh my god.”
Howon panickedly puts a hand over his chest. “My heart. It’s still beating.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Sungjong frowns. He puts his hand over his chest too. Howon lifts the youngest member’s arm, pressing a finger against the wrist, finding a pulse.
“So we’re not dead. We’re not dead,” Sunggyu mumbles, as if talking to himself.
And suddenly, Dongwoo explodes with laughter. Laughter that slices through the air, loud, piercing, contagious. The other members slowly follow suit, with heads thrown back. Woohyun stares at them like they’re fucking crazy. But Dongwoo sees how nonsensical the situation is and it’s really fucking funny and he can’t help it.
As Sunggyu clutches his stomach, eyes pressed into slits, he chokes, “Woohyun, where are you going?”
“Leaving you guys alone, obviously,” Woohyun hisses, stalking ahead. Sunggyu chases after him, pulling him back. “Hey, you okay?”
“Am I okay? Hyung, we got into a fucking car accident and we’re stuck in god knows where and here you guys are, laughing your asses off for nothing. Ask yourselves if you’re okay. I’m gonna go explore this place.”
Sunggyu sighs. He can’t even bring himself to lash out at Woohyun and his shitty temper.
“Look, we’ll go together. Okay?”
“Whatever.”
Turning around, he beckons the other members to join them. “Come on, guys. We’re gonna explore this place, at least find out where we are.”
They’re still laughing, but jogging over at the very least, a group of dangling arms, strained smiles and hurried footsteps. It’s been awhile seeing them like this, Sunggyu thinks. Not that he had the time to be with them often either. Ever since Sungyeol’s accident, the company has been focusing more on the members’ solo activities. And Sunggyu just had finished his debut promotions. He was so busy, always reaching the dorm only after the other guys have fallen asleep. It didn’t feel like home, without Woohyun waiting up for him in their room.
They tread down the lane like dying laugher and drying scars. Woohyun almost feels guilty. He is the mood changer in the group after all, always lightening up the atmosphere whenever the members get scolded or made mistakes. And now, the way his brows furrow, fists clench and teeth bite into lower lip rubs off the other guys, as if stealing their right to laugh freely or be happy about something. He wants to tell them sorry but looks at the ground instead, as they walk in silence.
In the distance, there’s a familiar figure sitting on the sidewalk. He’s oddly reminded of long, tangled limbs and cheeky grins.
A spark of anxiety. It evolves into something stronger, something surging through Woohyun’s veins and it gets a little harder to breathe. He staggers even faster forwards. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Fuck, Woohyun!” The figure jolts out of his position, squinting his eyes.
“Sungyeol!” The other members behind him begin to exclaim one by one. Woohyun freezes.
Everybody’s howling, screaming, lunging for Sungyeol but Woohyun drowns himself out. This isn’t right. He curls his fists so hard his knuckles show. It feels so real. Too real, even. It’s not supposed to make sense but it does, anyway.
He thinks Sungjong’s crying. He doesn’t really notice. He studies the way rays of light beat on Sungyeol’s hair instead, and how his face is glowing. Almost ethereal. He wonders if it’s real to the touch and squeezes past the members, fingers cupping his wrist. There. That same warmth, the same skin plastered over bones.
“Fuck.” He smiles in a long time. A real smile. The kind of smile he smiles at his fans because he loves them so much, because what was Infinite without them? “Fuck, Sungyeol. Fuck.”
♡
“This is the place between life and death.” Sungyeol closes his eyes, “You guys aren’t going to die. This is just somewhere you wait to have your lives back.”
“Does this mean,” Sungjong says instead, squeezing on Sungyeol’s shoulder, “that you’ll wake up?”
“Yes, I will.” The older man smiles, eyes crinkling into crescents. Woohyun stares at him and thinks the smile doesn’t look right. Sungjong tiptoes, running his fingers through Sungyeol’s hair, fingers trailing down and along the jawline, pulling at the cheek. Sungyeol puts his hands on Sungjong’s face and laughs against his forehead. A wave of vertigo hits Woohyun as he watches.
Howon walks over as well, tugging on Sungyeol’s arm. There he is, still the same old tangled mess of limbs as if stuck in pubescence forever. Lanky, skinny, angled bones pressing hard into his palm and his breath turns hitched, because Lee Sungyeol is here, awake, and so fucking real.
Rendered speechless, Sunggyu watches them quietly. Dongwoo clings to him, teary-eyed. And it hurts because they’ve missed him so much, it hurts because who the fuck knows that this might just all be a dream they’ll wake up from.
But it doesn’t hurt like it hurts for Sungyeol, Sunggyu thinks as the younger man grips harder onto the material of Sungjong’s shirt and flashes shaky smiles at Howon and Woohyun, eyes glassy. Myungsoo has his fists clenched, fingernails tearing into palms, fresh cuts and unsteady breathing.
Funny. It’s funny you can want something so badly and when it appears right before you, you can’t choose to believe in it.
“How long will we be here? What have these two months been like?” Woohyun asks softly, looking away.
“I’m not sure, heh. These two months have been boring as fuck.” Sungyeol pouts and then sighs afterwards, “I’ve missed you guys. A lot.”
It’s only seconds before Dongwoo starts bawling, running over to him and wrapping him in his arms. Sungyeol chuckles, nails clawing at his thighs. He doesn’t want to cry too.
“I’m glad- I’m glad you’re here,” the older man wails. And Sungyeol’s widely known for his childish behaviour both off stage and on shows but right now, Dongwoo feels like a kid in his arms. He’s reminded of how he can always count on Dongwoo to pour his troubles to, because even though Dongwoo’s not the type to give coherent advice but he listens and drapes an arm around the shoulder as a form of silent comfort.
Dongwoo’s a ball of sunshine and nobody can ever bring themselves to dislike him. Though sometimes his innocent image feels a little too exaggerated, it's a mask he's learnt to put on whenever they go on schedules. Outside, he's still all laugh lines and million dollar smiles. And whenever Sungyeol buries his face into Dongwoo’s shirt, his lungs filled up with the smell of Dongwoo, he’s immediately, infinitely happier. Like now.
“Myungsoo, come here. Stop standing there looking like an idiot.” Sungyeol rolls his eyes, tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Said man stalks over, arms dangling by his sides in an awkward manner. He scratches his head, honestly at a loss of what to say.
Myungsoo and Sungyeol share a special relationship. Where most fans put them together as a couple, they’re actually more of best friends who bicker over everything and anything. It’s hard for Myungsoo to open up but once he does, he’s so much louder. And Sungyeol personally hates those heart-to-heart talks with Myungsoo, but he sits through them, makes Myungsoo laugh, just because.
Two months have changed so many things though. Myungsoo doesn’t even dare to look at the other in the eye. Sungyeol lifts the younger man’s chin up, breaking into a full grin. “Hey.”
“Hey, hyung.”
“I missed you, you idiot.” Sungyeol ruffles Myungsoo’s hair.
“I missed you too-” Myungsoo begins, albeit softly and suddenly, Sungyeol’s left ear begins to bleed.
“Sungyeol!” Woohyun shouts, swiping blood that’s dripped onto the cartilage away.
“I’m fine,” Sungyeol mumbles, swatting him away. Woohyun doesn’t take his words though and immediately strips off his shirt, wiping the blood that’s gathered in his ear. Sungyeol bows a little, cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”
“Hyung, are you okay?” Myungsoo asks worriedly. The other members come closer, all furrowed brows and whispers of concern and worry.
“Guys, guys! I said I’m fine. Let’s move on now, shall we?”
“Where can we actually go to?” Sungjong sulks.
♡
They turn into the forest clearing. There’s a lot of sand, and a water body in the middle. People they don’t recognise linger around. They’re probably waiting to have their lives back, like Sungyeol.
But Sungyeol’s not supposed to have his life back, he’s not supposed to even be here.
Sungjong throws side glances at him, tugging at his arm occasionally as they saunter across the sand. He wants to relax, but his body is hunched, his shoulders stiffened. The place smells faintly of almost losing Sungyeol. And he doesn’t want to let go ever again.
“Somebody’s clingy today.” Sungyeol raises a brow at the younger man. He sounds like everything’s normal, like they were still performing together, eating together, sleeping together a day ago, not two months ago. Scrap that, he’s trying too hard to sound normal. Sungjong only winces.
“Remember how you used to not eat at all when you got angry?” Sungyeol tucks a flower behind Sungjong’s ear as the younger glares at him. They sit on a rock, facing the lake. The other members traverse the place, Dongwoo all shining eyes and bright laughter. Woohyun looks glum as ever though.
“Oh, ya? The only things I remember about you are how dumb and immature you were. Also, it’s good not having you around. It’s good not having to listen to your shitty voice, and watch you dance like a lunatic in the making," Sungjong spits back, nails denting into the other’s arm.
Sungyeol chuckles, “Aw. You’re right though. I couldn’t hang around to annoy you just a bit longer, just a little more.”
(I missed you. It sucked having to hold your hand without you lacing our fingers together. It sucked having to stay in the dorm, knowing that Infinite might break apart and not being able to do anything about it. It sucked not having you to banter with, not having you pulling stupid pranks on all of us. I missed you, hyung.)
“Sungjong?”
“Mhmm?”
“I missed you too.”
He tilts his head to look at Sungjong, eyes glazed. The younger man just glares at him. “Isn’t this the part where you kiss me?”
“You fucker.” Sungyeol raises his arm, about to flick his fingers onto the other’s forehead but Sungjong stops him midway and pulls the arm down, lifting his head up to peck on his lips instead. He misses though, ending up pecking on the chin and Sungyeol laughs. “You idiot.”
Sungyeol does kiss him anyway, cupping his face then pulling him in, lips centimeters apart. Open books where he nibbles on Sungjong’s lower lip. The younger opens his mouth and Sungyeol tries to shove deeper, until they’re running out of breath, all tongues and saliva and not giving a damn about the world around them.
Sungjong directs Sungyeol’s hand and puts it over his chest. I’m here, he says. I’m here and I won’t leave and promise you won’t too, hyung. They break away, gasping for air, noses nudging.
Sungyeol doesn’t promise him.
♡
Sungyeol coughs into his hands, palms mottled with specks of blood. Dongwoo pats on his back, as the younger man lapses into a fit of coughing and wheezing. Woohyun just eyes the blood and, he knows that something isn’t right. Nothing has felt right the moment they stepped in, actually. And Sungyeol trying so hard to pretend everything’s fine just makes things stranger.
So he grabs him by the arm and pulls him away from everybody and pins him against a trunk.
“What the fuck is up with you.”
“Woohyun, what the hell?”
“You’re bleeding everywhere, all the time. You- you’re not supposed to be here, right?”
“What are you talking about?” Sungyeol just says quietly, looking away. Woohyun cups his face and shifts it back so they’re facing each other, eye-to-eye.
“It doesn’t make any sense. You tell us this place is for people who are waiting to have their lives back. And it’s been two months since you’re stuck in a coma, wait, are you supposed to die?”
Sungyeol pushes Woohyun away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re not supposed to be here, aren’t you?” Woohyun prompts again, tugging at the other’s arm. “Stop lying to us!”
“Okay, fine. Yeah. You fucking got it right, man. Do you want a trophy?”
“Why didn’t you just,” Woohyun coughs, “move on?”
“I can’t.” His lips quiver, tears pooling in his eyes. “I just think about my trainee days, about our first album, our first concert, our Japanese debut and I can’t, Woohyun.”
Woohyun’s rendered speechless, the world passing by around them in slow-motion. Swaying trees, cloudless skies and Sungyeol’s nails digging into Woohyun’s skin, slow, painful, sayings of something excruciating, maybe a mutual understanding.
Woohyun understands. He does.
“Please don’t tell the others.” Sungyeol curls his toes.
“Sungyeol.” Woohyun doesn’t know what to do. He’s afraid if he says anything more, Sungyeol might come up with thoughts of him wanting to drive him away, as if he isn’t good enough. But no, that’s not the case, he thinks as curls his fingers onto the hem of the other’s sleeve. This isn’t right. Defying death isn’t right.
“I was supposed to die right after the accident.” Sungyeol shudders, vapour and carbon dioxide leaving his mouth in steamy swirls, accentuating his words as if they’re out to mock him. “I couldn’t move on. So they put me in a coma. And I’ve been staying here thinking if I stayed long enough, I’d get my life back. I’d get to live as Infinite’s Lee Sungyeol again.”
Woohyun’s face contorts, cheeks hollowing.
“You know, I wasn’t perfect. I couldn’t get my notes right and I sounded terrible. I always fucked up our performances. And it’s not like I’m particularly good at dancing. I could only count on my humor to keep me going. But everybody’s going to get sick of me trying to be funny all the time someday. Being alone here, I sometimes have thoughts like these and think, maybe it’s better for me to move on after all.” He shrugs.
“But I want to try. I want to try to be better. I missed all of you and there’s so much you guys did for me, so much being in Infinite did for me. I realised I had taken all of this for granted and I want to go back and try again. I want my life back, Woohyun.”
His shoulders start jerking and he begins coughing out blood again. Hurriedly, Woohyun rushes over to his side, hitting on Sungyeol’s back. Sungyeol just grips onto Woohyun’s wrist, hissing, “Don’t breathe a word to the others.”
Woohyun glares at him. No.
“Promise me,” Sungyeol cries aloud. Woohyun turns away from the other man and jogs off instead, joining the other members.
♡
That day, Woohyun doesn’t even spare a proper glance at Sungyeol. Sungyeol casually tries to grab his attention, being as subtle as he can, occasionally glimpsing over at him, flashing him desperate smiles. But Woohyun just rolls his eyes and sticks to another member as they travel, sometimes lagging behind alone. He feels angry, whether at himself or Sungyeol he’s unsure.
All of them decide to settle down on an empty field that’s, amusingly, right next to a meadow with flowers that glitter when the sky turns dark. They make a fire and this honestly feels like a camp, an adventure trip, rather than death.
(Woohyun doesn’t mention but there’s a painful tugging at his chest, as he notices how Sungjong sticks to Sungyeol all the time.)
Sungyeol, he thinks with a sigh. Lee fucking Sungyeol.
Woohyun was heartbroken when the accident happened. It’d take a hell lot of him to deal with the loss of a friend. Somebody he’s been living with, eating with, performing with, practising with. And having it all torn away from him out of the blue left him in trauma. Quiet trauma.
He started shying away from the other members, rejecting individual schedules, sleeping in more often. He needed to deal with it alone, he thought.
And he’s still breaking. But he doesn’t want Sungyeol to break, he thinks he deserves so much better. He’d let go, if Sungyeol could let go as well.
The sky turns from orange, to blue, then finally to indigo. Infinite watches the meadow come alive, flowers spiralling into balls of glitter, an ocean of flickering lights. Dongwoo playfully pushes Sungyeol forward and the younger man yelps, turning around and lightly hitting his shoulder. It’s warm, where seven of them are together and not apart. Warm where the flowers light up, warm where their hearts light up.
♡
“Hyung.” Woohyun saunters over. Sunggyu acknowledges his presence with a quick nod and they both curl forwards, feet almost touching the flickering embers. The other members are fast asleep, bodies heaving, lips slightly parted.
“It’s surprising to find you awake.”
“I could say the same for you.”
Sunggyu rubs his palms together, edging closer to Woohyun, their shoulders barely brushing past each other before the younger man slides away. Frowning, he asks in a quiet voice instead, “So, what’s up?”
Woohyun tucks his knees into his chest, propping his face up with his elbows. “Hyung, Sungyeol told me something today.”
Sunggyu raises a brow. “I noticed you pulling him away earlier on. What did he say?”
Scratching his head, Woohyun starts, “He’s- Well, he’s kind of not supposed to be here.”
“What do you mean?” Creasing forehead, narrowing eyes.
“You see, he’s stuck here because he can’t move on, hyung. He wasn’t even supposed to be in a coma.” He’s supposed to die gets stuck in his throat. Sunggyu hears it anyway. Gulping, the leader admits, “I already suspected something up with him, but I didn’t think...”
“Hyung, do you think it’s right he gets stuck here and perhaps never move on? He’s basically defying death. And I don’t even know what to tell him, hyung. He told me today about wanting his life back, about wanting to try again. He misses us, we miss him, but it’s just wrong. And it hurts, I really don’t like watching him suffer.”
And Woohyun can’t shut up once he starts pouring out his feelings. His genuine thoughts. This entire thing, about Sungyeol’s coma, has been consuming him from the inside since the day of the accident. The other members feel it too, the way Woohyun closes himself up from everybody else. If Sungyeol was dying, Woohyun wasn’t any better. Collapsing inside, fading away outside.
They know. They know he loves Sungyeol with every fiber of his being.
“Sometimes, I want to be selfish, Woohyun. I want to keep him with us. But you’re right,” Sunggyu pats him on the back, “you’re absolutely right.”
“Then help me persuade him, hyung.” Woohyun turns sideways, “Tell him to go. Tell him it’s alright to go.”
The desperate edge to his voice sends something shuddering into Sunggyu’s veins and he bites his lower lip in an attempt to drive the feeling away.
“Talk to him, hyung.” Woohyun shakes the other’s arm wildly. Sunggyu stands up, walking off into the meadow where the flowers glitter, with Woohyun scurrying after him.
“We’ll all talk to him. We’ll tell him to move on,” he assures the younger man, though sounding more like he’s assuring himself.
Woohyun touches a flower, a pink one. Glitter transitions into electricity where finger meets petal and runs through his veins. He jerks away, breathing intensified. But he feels lighter, more clear-headed. And he sighs into the night air, instead of screaming.
♡
An hour passes. The sky starts to light up, the flowers dimming. Woohyun pulls Sungyeol out of his sleeping position and the younger man rubs his eyes, dazed. Sunggyu puts a finger over his lips, signalling be quiet. Stirring, Sungjong peeks at them, wondering what they’re doing. He waits till they’ve left his sight then stands up, creeping after them wordlessly.
Woohyun pins Sungyeol against the wall, crashing his lips onto his and Sungyeol tilts his head downwards, breathing what the fuck against the other man’s chin. Their foreheads hit as Sunggyu cups Sungyeol’s right ear, leaning closer to nibble on the cartilage, hand slipping up under the shirt, thumb brushing past a nipple.
“What.” Sungyeol throws his head back, “What the fuck, hyung.”
Woohyun starts grinding against Sungyeol, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He bites on the lower lip, lets go for a second then shoves his mouth back, their teeth touching instead. Love tastes like metal.
Pulling down the sleeve, Sunggyu presses his lips onto the collarbone, incoherent whispers and closed eyes.
“Let go, Sungyeol.”
“Hyung,” he whines instead, against Woohyun’s lips. Woohyun observes the tent in his pants and almost smirks, kneeling down and stripping off his pants. Material pools around the ankles. Then he pulls down the underwear and cups the base, other hand stroking the cock.
“Fuck, hyung. Stop,” Sungyeol groans but he can’t focus. He thrusts into Woohyun’s hands, thoughts a mess and Sunggyu leaving burning touches where fingers meet skin and lips sucking purple over the canvas of his body isn’t making it any better.
Sungjong watches them and tries not to whimper, fingers shaking, heart palpitating. But Sunggyu turns his face sideways and notices him, mouthing, “Come here.”
A sob slips through the youngest member’s lips. He feels dizzy and he doesn’t understand what’s going on but Sungyeol succumbing to Woohyun’s godly hands is just really fucking hot and he can’t breathe, eyes still glued onto them.
“I said, come here.” The smile tugging at the corner of Sunggyu’s lips is anything but seductive. In fact, it’s heartbreaking. Confused, he stumbles towards them and Sungyeol watches him walk over with heart beating impossibly faster than before. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
“Sungjong, I- Fuck, Woohyun.” He clenches his fists, head pressing against the wall, not wanting to look at hands wrapped around cock, pumping the shaft, fingers tracing the veins.
Pulsating vision, heavy breathing, dark eyes.
“Fuck,” Sungjong curses, throwing an arm around Sunggyu’s shoulder instead, fingers rubbing over the adam’s apple. It bobs up and down with Sunggyu’s heavy breathing and Sungjong says quietly, “Help me, hyung.”
Sunggyu almost sighs and unzips the younger man’s pants. His lips wrap around the head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks and Sungjong moans, tugging on his hair and pulling him closer, bucking his hips and thrusting into his mouth, nails clawing at the scalp. With one eye shut, lips parted, all hot breaths and slippery moans, he peeks at Sungyeol and Woohyun with the other.
Sungyeol’s glancing at him too, a mess of fuck Woohyun, fuck you and your fucking hands. Woohyun whispers against the tip, thumb swiping the pre-come. “You’re beautiful, Sungyeol. So, so beautiful.”
And Sungyeol’s eyes grow red, tears pooling, chest swelling. He knows what they want from him, he knows what they’re trying to tell. But it hurts. He’s tired of waiting. Some part of him wants to let go too.
“You’re a beautiful, beautiful person, Sungyeol. Don’t forget.”
But I’ll forget if I go, Sungyeol tells him. I’ll forget and all of you will remember.
Woohyun pauses and the other almost groans. He feels up Sungyeol’s thighs with his hands. His big, now moist hands. And Sungyeol shudders, his voice trembling, moans quieter but still intense.
We love you, Woohyun says. And it’s because we love you we’re telling you to move on.
Sunggyu presses a knuckle into Sungjong’s hipbone, a speck of pink over beige. Cock sliding down the throat, it convulses and Sungjong’s scream. Goosebumps spiral out the flowerbed of Sungyeol’s skin as he hears the scream. Something rips through him.
Everything about Sungjong, really, leaves him fascinated. Sungjong, flower poking out the side crack. Mesmerizing and absolutely gorgeous. He leaves Sungyeol’s mouth tasting bittersweet.
“Just go.”
Sungyeol explodes with a grunt into Woohyun’s hands. They both pant, chests rising and falling. Sungjong comes all over Sunggyu’s mouth, streaks of white dripping down the chin.
“Just go? Go from where?” the maknae asks softly. And his voice is so tender, laced with the afterglow of his orgasm. Sungyeol doesn’t want to break his heart.
So Woohyun starts for him. “Sungyeol’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be dead.”
♡
Today, the sky is red. Graduating shades of red, from terra cotta to electric crimson. Sungyeol’s nose bleeds a third time before the other members slowly begin to wake up, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.
He begins admitting to everything. Howon stares blankly at him, unable to respond.
Woohyun cups Sungyeol’s face and pulls him in. They kiss like hot breaths and twirling tongues, and their bodies press up against each other, a mess of pulsating veins and heaving chests and hummingbird heartbeats. Woohyun’s fingers burn on Sungyeol’s cheek, and they trail over the canvas of peachy white, along the jawline, down to the collarbone where he rubs circles over skin.
Sungjong sobs into Sungyeol’s back, fingers pressing into the material of his shirt. Myungsoo watches from aside, eyes welling up with tears. He wants to make it all better but he doesn't know how. Having been thrown into the entertainment industry for a pretty long time, they all learnt that things don't magically get better.
Sungyeol breaks away, squeaking, "Guys."
"Just go. Move on, Sungyeol. There's a better place," Woohyun whispers, breath hot against the other's chin. And a chill runs down Sungyeol's spine. He doesn't know what to feel. Woohyun has always been there for him, from their trainee days, even up till now, when they're trapped in the place between life and death.
They might have not liked each other when they first met, but slowly, their friendship grows into the meetings where lips mesh, tongues twirl and fingers curl onto the napes of necks speak of something so much more.
Woohyun's always reassuring Sungyeol when he feels like he fucked up during their practices or performances. Woohyun's always advising him to overcome his low self-esteem and perform with more confidence. Woohyun’s always giving him tips on how to sing better during their spare time.
And Sungyeol's always growing and learning, along with what Woohyun does for him, along with being in Infinite. It hadn't been easy, and he'd always complain about the work being overly tiring, about not getting enough time for himself, about barely being able to see his family. But now, twenty-one and dying, he sees it all in a new light and realises how much this all means to him.
He doesn't want to let it go.
"I missed you. I still miss you, even now, when you're here in front of me. But I don't want you to suffer. That's what friends are for, right?" Woohyun sounds painfully unsure of what he's saying.
No, Sungyeol wants to say, we are more than friends. We are family.
Infinite is family. Beyond the scripted shows, ninety-nine percent synchronisation, Sunggyu lashing out at all of them during practices, it’s family where hands knead into skin, where Myungsoo decidedly plops down on Dongwoo’s lap and the older man laughs into his hair, where Sungyeol pulls a dumb prank on the members and everybody laughs instead of staying angry at him.
It’s family where Woohyun listens to Sunggyu talk worriedly about their group’s progress and about his own solo debut, where Sungyeol and Sungjong pull off quick kisses in between schedules. It’s family where they sit around the television and watch another episode of Reply 1997 and Howon blushes at his own acting.
Sungjong fists into Sungyeol’s shirt, lips trembling.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
It scares Sungyeol a little seeing him like this. Sungjong’s always been rebellious, strong-headed and never liked showing off any form of weakness. Right now, he looks vulnerable, all open scars and bubbling blood.
And it hurts, the tugging at his chest grows stronger, painful. His nose starts to bleed, blood trailing down his upper lip, and Woohyun tiptoes to press his lips onto the philtrum.
“Go now, before it gets worse. Stop waiting around, don’t defy death. Just go, Sungyeol.”
Sungyeol nods dazedly. “I miss you too. Even if I cease to exist, I’ll still miss all of you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Things would have never been the same if I wasn’t in Infinite, if I never met all of you. And I- I’m so sorry because I lack in so many things and I love of all of you and there’s really no other way I can put it. I’ll move on, so I hope all of you can too.”
“There’s the light.” Woohyun points upwards to the portal.
“I know. I’m going now. Fuck, guys. I’m really going.” And nobody can stop Sungyeol when he starts crying, all bloodshot eyes and quivering lips.
A bright, white light envelops him.
♡
Woohyun wakes up cheek against the pillow, bones cold, skin burning. It hurts and he doesn’t know why. The crimson streaks covering his arms and thighs, his tattered bermudas, the holes in his coat, they all don’t trigger any memory of what’s happened before. All he knows is that he feels like he’s on fire.
“Fuck,” he curses, “it hurts.”
The room smells like medicine and detergent, fluorescent lights blinding. It’s painful to keep his eyes open.
A nurse raps on the door before stalking in, cheeks coloured crimson. She probably recognises him, he thinks. Tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, she asks gently, “Are you feeling better, Woohyun-sshi?”
“Yeah,” he answers quickly, trying not to snap at her. He squints, barely making out the shape of her face, the thickness of her eyebrows. There’s swirls of movement where her fingers curl onto the clipboard and he groans, trying to register his surroundings.
Something flashes across his mind, flitting images, vivid but temporary. There’s a tugging at his chest. But this time, it isn’t foreign.
(PS: He tries his best not to cry. But the tears fall, anyway. They always do.)
a/n: this is really, really bad and probably not what you expected! i hope you don’t hate me after reading this ;;;; but i hope you like it anyway even though i’m sure it’s not up to standard. anyway, this is based on the second prompt! heh.
(thanks to lutes for beta, and to tlist for bearing with my shit.)