Hamartia
Hamartia
Infinite || Woohyun/Myungsoo || R
AU (mentions of prostitution, sex, drugs)
1218 words
even acknowledging one's tragic flaw isn't enough to save the soul ; i never thougt i'd fall into the same category
You know, I never thought I would love anyone.
Memories remain stained inside one’s mind, whether it happens consciously or not. The removal of these memories require extraneous effort, tedious battles against the unconscious mind, delving deeper into the unknown.
There’s no certainty, there’s never certainty, but it’s a risk worth taking, right?
~
“What can I do for you today?”
“I’m not really sure, isn’t this suppose to be relaxing?” There’s a question already, and ambiguity within one answer can lead to so many possibilities, endless routes of information flow. The other boy looks stunned, a flash of confusion momentarily filling his eyes, probably because he isn’t used to such aggressiveness.
“I’ll get you a drink~” His voice was light and cheeky as he reached for the menu behind him.
“If you want.” He hadn’t meant to be unresponsive or cold, partially it was his nature, partially because he didn’t really care. He didn’t belong here. This wasn’t his stage, not his usual platform where confidence comes naturally. Sungjong’s idea was stupid, he didn’t need someone to talk with, someone to entertain him for the night. Reversal of roles, he was the one to be serviced, the one where all attention is focused on him. Bullshit.
The boy hands him the menu momentarily, taking it back and giving him a small grin. “Let me choose one for you.” Myungsoo nods, waving out a flat hand, two fingers poised out, and the boy smiles again. Their drinks arrive almost instantly, the boy tells him that the VIP rooms have separate bartenders specifically tailored to them. Myungsoo didn’t really care, to be honest, but he nodded out of politeness.
“What’s your name?” he asks again. Myungsoo chokes on his drink, he’s always hated whiskey.
~
They’d be nameless individuals should something happen, removed from the wall as mere decoration replacement. No one would even remember their existence was once relevant, per chance a handful of frequent customers, but once the old leaves, and the new will automatically settle in. That’s always how it’s been.
He ponders for a moment before the man clears his throat again. He tells him that he has an appointment with Woohyun. The man softens and guides him in warmly, as if they’ve known each other for years already.
~
Myungsoo adjusted his scarf, glossy eyes staring at the distant swerving road. He’d never to think that the same boy from the host club was also a famous underground street racer. The fact that he had a license seemed debatable, young features and expressive eyes not yet tarnished by society. He didn’t know how he agreed to it, because it was fucking freezing outside, frothing wisps of air and lingering frost. He regretted it the moment skin met metal, maybe this was a stupid idea, that he was actually letting someone else affect him like this.
Woohyun pulled out ahead, just like he’d said he would, right around the last turn. He blinked in awe when the car passed the designated line, swerving sideways just slightly and he steps out, bangs tousled to the side.
A few girls next to him flounder about how attractive he looked, and all Myungsoo could do was smile, the corner of his mouth tugging up ever so slightly. For some reason, he starts to feel airy and fluttery when he walks back over to join him by the railings.
“Told you I’d win.” He says smugly. There’s that same twinkle inside his eyes whenever he says something right, or witty, or a mix of both, Myungsoo hates that most about him.
“Did I ever doubt you?” Myungsoo reaches up and squeezes his arm. It’s a gentle sign of affection, and even Myungsoo doesn’t realize he’s being more open, especially when it’s with Woohyun.
“You better not have.” Woohyun laughs, reaching forward and tugging his toque down to cover his eyes. Myungsoo scowls as usual, tugging his hat back up above his eyes so he can see properly, taking out his phone to reply a text from Sungjong.
Woohyun acts like the ass he is and takes his phone before half the message is constructed. He’s such an attention whore. Woohyun literally tosses his phone back to him. Myungsoo stutters and manages to catch it, more fear than thrill coursing through his veins when it flies midair.
“Here, I’ll drive you home, it’s getting late.” Woohyun naturally offers, because he’s older and the better driver and he’s the host, it would only seem fitting that he’d be the one to drive him home, especially since Myungsoo doesn’t really know which part of town they’re at.
~
He doesn’t know how it happens, but Woohyun manages to surface inside his mind more than he’d like even as he settles into bed, this time alone and not with another man passed out after sex.
As if fate was casting a mocking glow, he receives a text moments later. He sighs because Woohyun has changed his name to Woo♥ as his contact name without his consent. It’s a simple message, saying that he’s home and Myungsoo didn’t need to worry.
~
The process is a lot more difficult than he’d imagined, unhinging the past and revisiting scars, perhaps said reasons were contributing factors to his cold demeanour.
He didn’t think it would affect him that much, that one chance encounter would offer so much more, infrequent meetings into frequent rendezvous.
The emotional baggage, the strains and struggles, the constant debates bring him down. A lot of his clients have been finding him more rigid, even though he’s always been difficult to please, there’s something different.
Artificial doses of numbing the mind are less effective, gradually it’s becoming conditioned. It’s hard to lie to yourself. Myungsoo would choose rehab again in a heartbeat.
~
“I didn’t think you’d mind…”
“I’m not saying I do,” Myungsoo stops because the words slipped out way too fast, “it’s just an awfully intimate thing to do for a mere acquaintance.”
“Why else do you keep coming back, for me?
The same silence looms as if it’s the first day again. It’s a legitimate good question. Myungsoo doesn’t know why he’s been pulling more and more time out of work, doesn’t understand why he’s finding himself at the club with Woohyun more and more often. The club serves as a starting point and they head out, for a meal, or a dessert parlour, or the pier, anywhere. Granted, he’s still making more than enough to cover his quota, he doesn’t need to work; he doesn’t need to sell himself to stinky perverts who suck in bed and at life, finding someone just for a way out. Justifications were always nice to have, no matter how farfetched they might seem, enough of them might sway one’s mind eventually.
“I like to annoy you.” Myungsoo smirks and as usual Woohyun scowls. “You’re the one that broke your own rules, Woohyun. I don’t kiss clients.”
“Maybe, I never thought of you as my client, ever thought about that?” Woohyun shot back, that gleam in his eyes again.
~
Memories are just information, if you really think about it. It should be possible to create them artificially. It should be easily just as possible to erase them, removing every last imprint, every last trace…