Hunt you down
Title: Hunt you down
Pairing: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: PG-13
Lenght: One-shot, 2, 290 words
Summary: Would you like to hear the story of the boy with a tainted smile and the smile of a tainted boy?
A/N: Beta-ed by the amazing kiccy and dedicated to my dear unnie evaa_x3
Hunt you down
(A tale of blood, cruelty, love, lust and all that's in between)
It’s on days like these when the sky’s crying crystal tears and promises of forgotten summer nights linger in the air that I see them.
Hiding behind thick tree crowns, forbidden desires and undone coats they share and stare and maybe love- each-other or this world full of malice and tears- nobody knows. It’s in the way the sunlight plays with their frozen figures- I find magic and ancient fairytales of creatures that were never meant to exist. It’s in the way they reflect in each-other’s eyes that I notice details that were never there before. It’s in the way their lips move- creating sin and love and jealousy- and words that I cannot hear no matter what kind of desire burns in me.
My mother says that once you hear their story you shall never forget it.
And maybe I should tell you- it’s a secret really, so make sure you listen and remember, but don’t speak of it ever again.
The tale of the boy with a tainted smile and the smile of a tainted boy.
†††
Myungsoo’s smiling. There’s greed gnawing at his soul and fog over his heart, and he thinks this world is an unfair, unfair place.
Because he’s beautiful and talented and flawless and a little bit conceited, but when there’s somebody else that gets away with the fame, nothing really matters anymore. Because he’s all that and more, and he can’t see beyond eyes glazed over with jealousy, and hands white and fragile like porcelain.
He looks in the mirror and there’s perfection and pride and a small colorless smile hidden in his shadow- but nobody else notices.
He looks at Sungyeol and he sees beauty and talent and something more. But there isn’t perfection, and he notices the way lips crack and bleed and laugh at something that wasn’t supposed to be funny. Sungyeol has flaws that thread over his body and reach his soul and intertwine and they’re almost invisible but Myungsoo isn’t a fool.
Myungsoo sees behind closed doors and black windows and secrets that were never supposed to exist. He sees Sungyeol’s sins and desires, and he thinks that he’s no better but still…
Myungsoo wants more and more and more.
There’s a monster living in him, but it’s not ugly or scary or soaked with blood. It’s the monster of his own existence in this world- of his dreams and goals and all those dirty little tricks he uses so he can achieve them.
Myungsoo never regrets or turns back or loves. He wants attention and adoration, and to get it he hides behind fake facades and heavy make-up and personalities made up to please and to be all that one wants.
Myungsoo’s an actor that has reached the peak with his first step, and if he falls, slips even a millimeter lower then it’s the end. He wants perfection and nothing less but maybe a lot more.
So he corners Sungyeol one morning when the ground is covered with a thin sheet of snow that sparkles like pearls and innocent hearts and broken glass angels. And he looks and drinks and knows- all those secrets and black veils and sinful memories that are Sungyeol.
The other’s scared and motionless, and his eyes flash and flash and flash. With the sunlight low and the souls of those who should not be mentioned lurking around, Myungsoo does the final step.
“Turn me into one of yours.”
There’s a grasp and then Sungyeol’s clutching at the place where his bleeding soul would have been.
Myungsoo has seen those fangs, that malice and the way the taller turns into somebody that was never meant to exist. Myungsoo doesn’t fail to notice the perfection in the marble white skin (covered by unseen scars and broken hearts, and stained with sins against God), the softness of the lips (ice-cold and unforgiving, unfeeling, inexistent), the grace that his body moves with (fueled by greed and lust and gluttony) and the way his eyes spark and change (and it’s the color - rusty red- that almost brings Myungsoo over the edge the first time).
Myungsoo longs and wants eternities and masterpieces and immortality.
Sungyeol desires home and warm embraces and heartbeats that resonate through one’s existence.
They’re both selfish. The boy with the tainted smile and the smile of a tainted boy.
†††
Myungsoo feels perfect. He stares at their reflections and awes at the place their broken souls would have been and swears he shall dust off the last pieces.
Except he’s with Sungyeol and that doesn’t prove to be an easy job.
Because Sungyeol is everything and anything except for Myungsoo. Sungyeol is early mornings and never-ending nights, bitter coffees and sweet chocolates, beautiful sunrises and far-away wishes, and above all Sungyeol is feelings, feelings, feelings. So complicated yet so simple.
Myungsoo doesn’t think he will ever understand anything except the way their hands brush for that one second and if- Myungsoo still had a soul…
If he ever had one in the very beginning.
They live and they continue living through eternities.
They pass by broken trains and non-existent time machines, through withering flowers and never-ending graves. Sungyeol is tired, so tired. Myungsoo still doesn’t understand, and he keeps on walking with that hidden tact in his step and that long forgotten hum on the edge of his lips.
Their hands and smiles and eyes and those long, long nails- they’re tattooed by blood and murder and caged cruelty that hides in between the cracks of their existence.
“I want to die” Sungyeol says one day
Myungsoo wants to laugh. Except he’s forgotten how.
So he lets his hand wander over porcelain skin and he feels nothing, nothing at all. He searches and clutches and he doesn’t find anything except shadows and spider-webs and imperfections, imperfections sitting between every other broken note and ripped-apart love letter.
And he stares at Sungyeol’s lips- they’re bleeding again and he hasn’t eaten in a long time.
They have their first kiss on one winter night when the sky’s weeping over long-lost souls and the moon’s threading its light through eyes and fingers and creating a perfect shape. A single heart lies on the bloodied snow.
The first is followed by many- many tries and predictable blushes that weren’t supposed to be there. But Sungyeol is Sungyeol, and he cries and laughs, and Myungsoo can see the shadows hiding at the end of his mate’s rainbow-colored eyes.
Myungsoo has never been a fool, but it takes a life-line and a half for him to understand this just may be love. These tender whispers and gentle reassurances, these hidden roses and locked gazes, and that feeling- the one in his chest.
If Myungsoo didn’t have a heart in the very beginning- then now- with his eyes red and his lips tattooed by liquid sin- he is the closest to having one.
Because sometimes losing is actually gaining.
So he allows himself to get used. To those marble lips and ice-cold touches and that passion hiding deep inside them- the one that turned the ice to water and then to nonexistent air. Because Myungsoo may be a demon, but he still sleeps, and those bruising kisses and hushed moans are his good-night lullabies.
He has never thought about the end, because the part of him that has remained sane through all of this knows that this curse, blessing, ancient tale- it was never-ending.
But there’s a literal and metaphorical end. And if one of them was scratched out, the other option always remained.
And here Myungsoo thought he was actually smart. He was always a cynical one or so had Sungyeol told him, so he decides to live up to his name and manages a bitter chuckle. No, not a chuckle, because Myungsoo forgot and it was Sungyeol that taught him all over again.
But now Sungyeol’s gone. Myungsoo doesn’t know anything anymore.
He thinks self-pity is not his style. And there’s not exactly any way for him to die. So he keeps on living- but from the day he got his soul taken away from Sungyeol, it doesn’t really have the right to be called that.
He thinks over the possibilities. Sungyeol leaving him. Not likely but still possible.
Because Myungsoo knows he’s conceited. He knows that Sungyeol could have misunderstood, could have mistaken everything for cruel passion, loneliness and whatnot. Because this is Sungyeol, and Myungsoo can never know what’s on his mind. But Sungyeol seems to understand him well enough- it’s taken him years and decades and a century or two, but with a person like Myungsoo it takes that much time anyway. The one thing he does acknowledge though is that for Sungyeol, everything’s in the small gestures.
For years and years after, Myungsoo buys and cries and kisses roses and millions and hundreds of other flowers. He has heard that this has been gaining him a new nickname “Floral Demon”, but he doesn’t really care. If Sungyeol’s most radiant smile is worth one sunflower, then Myungsoo will present him with the biggest bouquet in the world the next time he sees him.
For years and years after, Myungsoo dips slender fingers and cold lips into chocolate- melting, hot, cold, spicy, sweet, bitter- a chocolate for every moment, second, minute, hour, day of his life. A chocolate for every smile, crinkle of eyes, spark of joy he has seen in Sungyeol. So that next time he sees him their kisses will have the taste of the sweetest threat in the world.
For years and years later, Myungsoo searches and changes and his goal is once again perfection- but not in his own eyes, not in other people’s eyes- he wants to achieve a kind of perfection only Sungyeol can appreciate. Because Myungsoo knows that no matter the reason for this, he’s made a mistake too many. The next time he sees Sungyeol he won’t hesitate to say those three words.
“I love you”- is forever engraved in the place his heart would have been.
And in the end the boy with the tainted smile can’t live without the smile of a tainted boy.
†††
A hundred summers later and a thousand tears after, he finally sees him.
The heat is unbearable especially in this small, cramped village which evolution seems to have forgotten. It reminds Myungsoo of long-lost memories and old folk songs and camp fires that launch sparks into the starry sky. There’s dust on the road and spider-webs on the windows, and the howl of the wind has never been so strong.
Sungyeol’s sitting on the only bench that has remained whole on the main square. His head is low and he’s wearing black from head to toe. Myungsoo almost does a double take because this is Sungyeol- the same Sungyeol who used to wear rainbows and stardust and electricity in his sleeve, and hearts and smiles and happiness over the place his soul would have been.
His skin is still pale and that makes the bruises stand out even more- there’s one on his throat and then his wrists…
Myungsoo has already long lost sense of time, but he knows this is summer number 101, and even he’s wearing short sleeves and breezy pants that flutter with the withering petals of abandoned flowers.
Sungyeol on the other hand is covered by never-ending robes of darkness, and it’s in the way the satin curls over lithe shoulders and exposes milky skin that Myungsoo thinks that time really does change.
But this is Sungyeol- his Sungyeol- and Myungsoo has waited, waited, waited and if he has to, he will wait a little longer, chase a little farther, understand a little more.
Their eyes lock and like usually Myungsoo thinks there are no words needed- just touches and whimpers and a brief exchange of gazes. There are questions hanging in the air that is now almost static with hidden chemistry. But Myungsoo lets them slip over his fingertips- gentle and slightly grazing and maybe a little bit rough after all- like sand and dirt and those few sparkling treasures that are waiting to be found in between.
Sungyeol is different. He’s a contrast of colors and emotions, and there are words skimming across his skin forming a history only Myungsoo can read and understand and comprehend. And between tales of torture and loneliness and those millions or so sorrys he finds after every second letter he sees those small, small pieces- shards of broken angel hearts that cry every time Myungsoo’s hands touch them- and he hears holy songs and purity, and there’s Heaven somewhere for sure. A Heaven Sungyeol has always deserved to enter; a Heaven Myungsoo has always dreaded seeing. But it’s too late anyways.
Both of them have done a sin too many, lived a century too long and their souls are lost and broken beyond repair. But as long as there’s Myungsoo and Sungyeol- with hands intertwined, lips connected, bodies snaked around each-other with blood dripping everywhere it doesn’t matter.
0+0=1
That’s an impossible equation but Myungsoo has already long abandoned the terms possible and impossible.
†††
So try searching for them- between yellowing pages and haunted legends, between dried up tears and frozen smiles- and if someday, by any chance, you catch even a glimpse of them- then consider yourself lucky. These demons worn down by centuries and dried up blood may be cursed but they bring a blessing.
The blessing of the eternal lovers.
So did you like the tale of the boy with a tainted smile and a smile of a tainted boy?
Pairing: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: PG-13
Lenght: One-shot, 2, 290 words
Summary: Would you like to hear the story of the boy with a tainted smile and the smile of a tainted boy?
A/N: Beta-ed by the amazing kiccy and dedicated to my dear unnie evaa_x3
Hunt you down
(A tale of blood, cruelty, love, lust and all that's in between)
It’s on days like these when the sky’s crying crystal tears and promises of forgotten summer nights linger in the air that I see them.
Hiding behind thick tree crowns, forbidden desires and undone coats they share and stare and maybe love- each-other or this world full of malice and tears- nobody knows. It’s in the way the sunlight plays with their frozen figures- I find magic and ancient fairytales of creatures that were never meant to exist. It’s in the way they reflect in each-other’s eyes that I notice details that were never there before. It’s in the way their lips move- creating sin and love and jealousy- and words that I cannot hear no matter what kind of desire burns in me.
My mother says that once you hear their story you shall never forget it.
And maybe I should tell you- it’s a secret really, so make sure you listen and remember, but don’t speak of it ever again.
The tale of the boy with a tainted smile and the smile of a tainted boy.
†††
Myungsoo’s smiling. There’s greed gnawing at his soul and fog over his heart, and he thinks this world is an unfair, unfair place.
Because he’s beautiful and talented and flawless and a little bit conceited, but when there’s somebody else that gets away with the fame, nothing really matters anymore. Because he’s all that and more, and he can’t see beyond eyes glazed over with jealousy, and hands white and fragile like porcelain.
He looks in the mirror and there’s perfection and pride and a small colorless smile hidden in his shadow- but nobody else notices.
He looks at Sungyeol and he sees beauty and talent and something more. But there isn’t perfection, and he notices the way lips crack and bleed and laugh at something that wasn’t supposed to be funny. Sungyeol has flaws that thread over his body and reach his soul and intertwine and they’re almost invisible but Myungsoo isn’t a fool.
Myungsoo sees behind closed doors and black windows and secrets that were never supposed to exist. He sees Sungyeol’s sins and desires, and he thinks that he’s no better but still…
Myungsoo wants more and more and more.
There’s a monster living in him, but it’s not ugly or scary or soaked with blood. It’s the monster of his own existence in this world- of his dreams and goals and all those dirty little tricks he uses so he can achieve them.
Myungsoo never regrets or turns back or loves. He wants attention and adoration, and to get it he hides behind fake facades and heavy make-up and personalities made up to please and to be all that one wants.
Myungsoo’s an actor that has reached the peak with his first step, and if he falls, slips even a millimeter lower then it’s the end. He wants perfection and nothing less but maybe a lot more.
So he corners Sungyeol one morning when the ground is covered with a thin sheet of snow that sparkles like pearls and innocent hearts and broken glass angels. And he looks and drinks and knows- all those secrets and black veils and sinful memories that are Sungyeol.
The other’s scared and motionless, and his eyes flash and flash and flash. With the sunlight low and the souls of those who should not be mentioned lurking around, Myungsoo does the final step.
“Turn me into one of yours.”
There’s a grasp and then Sungyeol’s clutching at the place where his bleeding soul would have been.
Myungsoo has seen those fangs, that malice and the way the taller turns into somebody that was never meant to exist. Myungsoo doesn’t fail to notice the perfection in the marble white skin (covered by unseen scars and broken hearts, and stained with sins against God), the softness of the lips (ice-cold and unforgiving, unfeeling, inexistent), the grace that his body moves with (fueled by greed and lust and gluttony) and the way his eyes spark and change (and it’s the color - rusty red- that almost brings Myungsoo over the edge the first time).
Myungsoo longs and wants eternities and masterpieces and immortality.
Sungyeol desires home and warm embraces and heartbeats that resonate through one’s existence.
They’re both selfish. The boy with the tainted smile and the smile of a tainted boy.
†††
Myungsoo feels perfect. He stares at their reflections and awes at the place their broken souls would have been and swears he shall dust off the last pieces.
Except he’s with Sungyeol and that doesn’t prove to be an easy job.
Because Sungyeol is everything and anything except for Myungsoo. Sungyeol is early mornings and never-ending nights, bitter coffees and sweet chocolates, beautiful sunrises and far-away wishes, and above all Sungyeol is feelings, feelings, feelings. So complicated yet so simple.
Myungsoo doesn’t think he will ever understand anything except the way their hands brush for that one second and if- Myungsoo still had a soul…
If he ever had one in the very beginning.
They live and they continue living through eternities.
They pass by broken trains and non-existent time machines, through withering flowers and never-ending graves. Sungyeol is tired, so tired. Myungsoo still doesn’t understand, and he keeps on walking with that hidden tact in his step and that long forgotten hum on the edge of his lips.
Their hands and smiles and eyes and those long, long nails- they’re tattooed by blood and murder and caged cruelty that hides in between the cracks of their existence.
“I want to die” Sungyeol says one day
Myungsoo wants to laugh. Except he’s forgotten how.
So he lets his hand wander over porcelain skin and he feels nothing, nothing at all. He searches and clutches and he doesn’t find anything except shadows and spider-webs and imperfections, imperfections sitting between every other broken note and ripped-apart love letter.
And he stares at Sungyeol’s lips- they’re bleeding again and he hasn’t eaten in a long time.
They have their first kiss on one winter night when the sky’s weeping over long-lost souls and the moon’s threading its light through eyes and fingers and creating a perfect shape. A single heart lies on the bloodied snow.
The first is followed by many- many tries and predictable blushes that weren’t supposed to be there. But Sungyeol is Sungyeol, and he cries and laughs, and Myungsoo can see the shadows hiding at the end of his mate’s rainbow-colored eyes.
Myungsoo has never been a fool, but it takes a life-line and a half for him to understand this just may be love. These tender whispers and gentle reassurances, these hidden roses and locked gazes, and that feeling- the one in his chest.
If Myungsoo didn’t have a heart in the very beginning- then now- with his eyes red and his lips tattooed by liquid sin- he is the closest to having one.
Because sometimes losing is actually gaining.
So he allows himself to get used. To those marble lips and ice-cold touches and that passion hiding deep inside them- the one that turned the ice to water and then to nonexistent air. Because Myungsoo may be a demon, but he still sleeps, and those bruising kisses and hushed moans are his good-night lullabies.
He has never thought about the end, because the part of him that has remained sane through all of this knows that this curse, blessing, ancient tale- it was never-ending.
But there’s a literal and metaphorical end. And if one of them was scratched out, the other option always remained.
And here Myungsoo thought he was actually smart. He was always a cynical one or so had Sungyeol told him, so he decides to live up to his name and manages a bitter chuckle. No, not a chuckle, because Myungsoo forgot and it was Sungyeol that taught him all over again.
But now Sungyeol’s gone. Myungsoo doesn’t know anything anymore.
He thinks self-pity is not his style. And there’s not exactly any way for him to die. So he keeps on living- but from the day he got his soul taken away from Sungyeol, it doesn’t really have the right to be called that.
He thinks over the possibilities. Sungyeol leaving him. Not likely but still possible.
Because Myungsoo knows he’s conceited. He knows that Sungyeol could have misunderstood, could have mistaken everything for cruel passion, loneliness and whatnot. Because this is Sungyeol, and Myungsoo can never know what’s on his mind. But Sungyeol seems to understand him well enough- it’s taken him years and decades and a century or two, but with a person like Myungsoo it takes that much time anyway. The one thing he does acknowledge though is that for Sungyeol, everything’s in the small gestures.
For years and years after, Myungsoo buys and cries and kisses roses and millions and hundreds of other flowers. He has heard that this has been gaining him a new nickname “Floral Demon”, but he doesn’t really care. If Sungyeol’s most radiant smile is worth one sunflower, then Myungsoo will present him with the biggest bouquet in the world the next time he sees him.
For years and years after, Myungsoo dips slender fingers and cold lips into chocolate- melting, hot, cold, spicy, sweet, bitter- a chocolate for every moment, second, minute, hour, day of his life. A chocolate for every smile, crinkle of eyes, spark of joy he has seen in Sungyeol. So that next time he sees him their kisses will have the taste of the sweetest threat in the world.
For years and years later, Myungsoo searches and changes and his goal is once again perfection- but not in his own eyes, not in other people’s eyes- he wants to achieve a kind of perfection only Sungyeol can appreciate. Because Myungsoo knows that no matter the reason for this, he’s made a mistake too many. The next time he sees Sungyeol he won’t hesitate to say those three words.
“I love you”- is forever engraved in the place his heart would have been.
And in the end the boy with the tainted smile can’t live without the smile of a tainted boy.
†††
A hundred summers later and a thousand tears after, he finally sees him.
The heat is unbearable especially in this small, cramped village which evolution seems to have forgotten. It reminds Myungsoo of long-lost memories and old folk songs and camp fires that launch sparks into the starry sky. There’s dust on the road and spider-webs on the windows, and the howl of the wind has never been so strong.
Sungyeol’s sitting on the only bench that has remained whole on the main square. His head is low and he’s wearing black from head to toe. Myungsoo almost does a double take because this is Sungyeol- the same Sungyeol who used to wear rainbows and stardust and electricity in his sleeve, and hearts and smiles and happiness over the place his soul would have been.
His skin is still pale and that makes the bruises stand out even more- there’s one on his throat and then his wrists…
Myungsoo has already long lost sense of time, but he knows this is summer number 101, and even he’s wearing short sleeves and breezy pants that flutter with the withering petals of abandoned flowers.
Sungyeol on the other hand is covered by never-ending robes of darkness, and it’s in the way the satin curls over lithe shoulders and exposes milky skin that Myungsoo thinks that time really does change.
But this is Sungyeol- his Sungyeol- and Myungsoo has waited, waited, waited and if he has to, he will wait a little longer, chase a little farther, understand a little more.
Their eyes lock and like usually Myungsoo thinks there are no words needed- just touches and whimpers and a brief exchange of gazes. There are questions hanging in the air that is now almost static with hidden chemistry. But Myungsoo lets them slip over his fingertips- gentle and slightly grazing and maybe a little bit rough after all- like sand and dirt and those few sparkling treasures that are waiting to be found in between.
Sungyeol is different. He’s a contrast of colors and emotions, and there are words skimming across his skin forming a history only Myungsoo can read and understand and comprehend. And between tales of torture and loneliness and those millions or so sorrys he finds after every second letter he sees those small, small pieces- shards of broken angel hearts that cry every time Myungsoo’s hands touch them- and he hears holy songs and purity, and there’s Heaven somewhere for sure. A Heaven Sungyeol has always deserved to enter; a Heaven Myungsoo has always dreaded seeing. But it’s too late anyways.
Both of them have done a sin too many, lived a century too long and their souls are lost and broken beyond repair. But as long as there’s Myungsoo and Sungyeol- with hands intertwined, lips connected, bodies snaked around each-other with blood dripping everywhere it doesn’t matter.
0+0=1
That’s an impossible equation but Myungsoo has already long abandoned the terms possible and impossible.
†††
So try searching for them- between yellowing pages and haunted legends, between dried up tears and frozen smiles- and if someday, by any chance, you catch even a glimpse of them- then consider yourself lucky. These demons worn down by centuries and dried up blood may be cursed but they bring a blessing.
The blessing of the eternal lovers.
So did you like the tale of the boy with a tainted smile and a smile of a tainted boy?