IMB/IBB 2013: Summertime (1/2)
Title: Summertime
Pairing/Focus: Hoya/Sungjong
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sungjong doesn’t like silences in between conversations. One day he will understand his compulsive need to fill up the gaps, but he’s not betting on it. In which Sungjong moves from Gwangju to Seoul to chase a dream and finds himself dreaming to fight his waking nightmares. Going to sleep isn’t easy if a thousand whispered words blur together into a single scream. Omega!verse.
Author's note: A huge thank you to my beta as well as my proof-reader, who tolerated my whining, screaming and pestering as the deadline loomed closer. *pesters with love*
Final word count: 14940
Warnings: Implied dub-con
Sungjong gets the news right before he leaves for Seoul, the day after his middle school graduation. Jihyun is a mother now, and she’d just delivered this morning at the local hospital.
Word travels fast around his school.
He’d been in the same class with her since first grade. She was quiet, unobtrusive, obedient. Intelligent. Her Korean essays were printed out for the entire class to read. Jihyun was popular in class, too; had plenty of admirers and friends alike. But she was also an early bloomer.
She entered her first heat in the girl’s bathroom one evening, ten days before her fourteenth birthday. School was already over by then and most students were already on their way home, save for one Alpha boy.
Jihyun missed several weeks of lessons, and her friends brought her homework for her. It was terrible, Sungjong knows. They had to knock loudly at her door and leave her work on the doorstep. Her Alpha hadn’t allowed anyone to come close to her for months after the bonding. Sungjong remembers all this very clearly because he brought her homework almost every day until she could come back to school. He didn’t need printed handouts from the teacher because Jihyun would hand her homework over if only he’d asked.
First grade, Sungjong and Jihyun were tablemates.
Second grade, Jihyun called Sungjong her best friend.
After eighth grade, Sungjong didn’t see her very much at all. Sungjong saw her around school sometimes, frame curved around her Alpha, one hand pressed against her swelling belly.
Months before graduation, Sungjong had turned from best friend to a complete stranger. When he’d told his mother about Jihyun’s pregnancy, she merely muttered under her breath, “God be with her.” When he’d asked what she meant, she had smiled wanly at him and told him how lucky he was to come from a long line of Betas.
Right now, Sungjong has thirty minutes to catch the bus to Seoul. He leaves with Jihyun’s old mobile number in his phone.
-
Being street casted was easy, too easy, because Sungjong certainly didn’t expect training to be so gruelling. He’d heard stories, but nothing could compare to being right there, in the training room, trying and failing to catch up to the trainer’s instructions. The music stops, thankfully, and Sungjong glances at the clock. 11.15AM. Fifteen more minutes and for a moment, Sungjong just wants the practice to be over so he can sleep. But sleep isn’t important right now, when his moves are too fluid to look nice, and his voice lacks control. Sleep is a luxury he cannot afford if he wants to fill up the gaping holes in his abilities. Sungjong is the youngest trainee, but from the minute he entered the company, he was already behind. On some especially terrible days, Sungjong imagines packing his bags and moving back to Gwangju, before he remembers that there is no future for him there. Dropping out of school closes all doors but one.
Five minutes left and the instructor is already wrapping up. Sungjong doesn’t know if he should feel relieved that he gets to go early or terrible because he still needs to fix a ton of mistakes. The twinge of urgency goes as quickly as it comes when Sunggyu comes over to hook an arm over the back of his neck.
“Sungjong-ah, go eat with me?” Sunggyu is four years older than him, but the age gap feels much less than that. The first day they met, Sungjong made the grave mistake of flaunting his looks when Sunggyu complimented him, and Sunggyu gaped at him in shock. And then took him out for food. Sungjong learnt soon enough that Sunggyu warmed up to people really quickly.
Sunggyu proceeds to very affectionately pinch his cheeks. Sungjong likes his face very much and he doubts that a debut will be in his favour if his cheeks get saggy. “So cute, aigoooo.” Then Sunggyu starts to shake Sungjong’s head from side to side and Sungjong’s patience only stretches this far.
“Let’s go!” Sungjong wriggles out of Sunggyu’s grabby hands.
“Sungjong-ah, wait for me!”
Sungjong sighs in mock exasperation and continues walking. “We’re only going to have three hours of sleep if you keep at that pace.”
“Yah!” Sunggyu grabs him around the middle. “Wait for your hyung, will you.”
“But you’ve already caught up.”
Sunggyu glares at him. “Let’s go eat, Sungjong-ah.”
“So you said,” Sungjong mutters under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“I said, it’s really late.”
Sunggyu scrutinises him for about two seconds.
“Okay.” He draws out the first syllable, one eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Do you want ddukbokki?”
“Sounds good.”
-
Walking home, Sungjong thinks that he rather likes the silence between them. He usually struggles with gaps between conversations, but Sunggyu is comfortable, like a blanket on a chilly evening or a warm hand on his back in the heat of the dance studio. Sungjong feels close to him already.
He comes to his senses after a few moments. They look towards the same goal but want to attain it through different means; they share the same blinding dream of the future, but it is not the same. Sungjong finds that perhaps even with Sunggyu, he is falling behind. He thinks about how to mould himself, how to create someone who will debut with Sunggyu. Because Sunggyu will debut. He’s heard rumors of a five-member group. Sungjong is sure about many things in his life, but this is one thing that he believes in most strongly.
In his bedroll later, Sungjong covers his face with his hand so Sunggyu won’t see his face crumpling. Sunggyu is asleep, breath gusting in and out, the air tickling against Sungjong’s face. Sungjong wonders if he can fall asleep like this, with a single, unwavering thought that is repeated like a mantra every day instead of the swarm of conflicting emotions. But maybe it’s easy for Sunggyu, because Sunggyu is his only friend, but he is not Sunggyu’s. All Sungjong has is Sunggyu and Gwangju.
On some nights like this, when the loneliness is too overwhelming, Sungjong wishes he’d had remained at home. But right now he is here, and with Sunggyu as the only person whom he knows and relies on. It’s not exactly a place he wants to be in, but a place he has to be right now.
He wants things to change, but he wants things between them to stay the same. It’s a tall order, Sungjong knows.
-
He calls back home occasionally to talk to his mother. Some days, his father and his brother comes to the phone and Sungjong misses them so much that he shakes from the longing. Things are better when he hangs up; the swell of emotions subsides for a while, and he goes to sleep worn out but resolute again in his goal.
Sungjong only asks for Jihyun once or twice. He wants to ask more often, but it’s best not to sound too nosy. Alphas can get terribly possessive.
His mother had told him, voice hushed, how she had spoken to Jihyun’s mother. Jihyun wasn’t too happy to be with child so quickly, but her Alpha had been insistent.
“She doesn’t attend school anymore,” Sungjong’s mother said bitterly into the receiver.
“Doesn’t she have any say in this?” Sungjong feels his own voice shake with anger. Jihyun wanted to study geography in Seoul University; she’d told him herself, years ago.
Sungjong’s mother sighs.
“I don’t know. Jihyun’s mother doesn’t have a lot of say about this, since she’s an Ome--”
“Yeah, Omega. I know.”
She sighs again, but only now does Sungjong register that it’s as if his mother is speaking to a child who doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. He just wants to hang up and try to sleep.
“I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, umma.”
“Take care of yourself, Sungjong-ah.”
-
Two months into his training, the CEO brings in a boy from Busan to the dorms.
“This is Lee Howon, the new trainee I’ve been talking about. He’ll be living here from now on. I hope you,” and here the CEO looks at Sunggyu and Sungjong in turn, “will treat him well.”
Sungjong stands up to greet the newcomer.
The newcomer puts Sungjong in a difficult position. Lee Howon quickly establishes himself as the best dancer the company has. He can sing too, and picks up rap so easily Sungjong sometimes feels the frustration bubbling up to his throat after shared practice sessions. Lee Howon is everything Sungjong wants to be and more. Sungjong absolutely loathes him. Probably an Alpha too, Sungjong thinks as he watches the way Lee Howon’s shirt stick to his defined chest as he dances.
Sunggyu is absolutely drawn to him.
Sunggyu asks Howon to tag along with them when they go out for snacks after practice, and what makes it even more infuriating is that he actually asks Sungjong if Howon can come. As if he could say no.
So Sungjong walks one step behind the two of them on the narrow pavement that’s only wide enough for two. He takes out his phone and replies some of the trainees from the other companies -- friend-acquaintances who message him details about the latest gossip and how disgusting their lunches were -- and then nothing. There’s nothing to distract him from the fact that Sunggyu is chatting animatedly with Howon in front. Sungjong hardly cares about what they’re talking about when the familiar ache of loneliness settles in the pit of his belly, poisonous fumes of the emotion unfurling around his brain and almost intoxicating him. For a brief second, he contemplates squeezing past them to walk in front, anything, anything not to feel like he’s being left behind.
-
“Sungjong, you’re not sharp enough,” the instructor barks out from the front of the room, “you’re messing up the entire choreography!”
Sungjong stops mid-spin as he feels his face flush in shame. All eyes are on him, and he can feel more than one set that’s filled with disdain. Just your average Beta, he sometimes hear in bathrooms, can’t do anything well.
Maybe even an Omega, they chortle, who knows?
He wraps his hand deliberately into a fist so that he can feel the sting of fingernails against the soft flesh of his palm. His hands are soft, like a girl’s, his mother had remarked. He digs the fingernails in harder and wishes he could draw blood.
He bows low, muttering, “I’m sorry, I’ll work harder.”
What else can he do, besides working hard?
-
Howon sits opposite Sunggyu in the restaurant, and they have their heads huddled together, discussing the latest girl group that has caught their eye.
The ache is there again, resting in Sungjong’s stomach, pressing against his insides, filling him up to his throat until he’s bloated. He just wants to leave.
“I’m”-- he stands up, feeling their surprised gazes on him-- “going to practice more. Have fun,” he adds blandly and walks out of the shop without waiting for a reply.
-
Sungjong stays back after every practice, until it’s one, two in the morning. He dances until his lungs feel like bursting, then he practices some more. But once his concentration slips, his moves become more fluid than sharp, steps more languid than powerful. 2AM and Sungjong is nowhere near done, and then a thought hits him hard. He will never be done, for years and years after debut -- if he does debut -- after his career goes to shit, after marriage and children and --
He will never be done, never never never --
Sungjong drops to the ground with a muffled thump, mind reeling and tears threatening to spill over.
He curls in on himself and his thoughts and the clock ticks above him, mechanical and unfeeling. It’s almost cruel; Sungjong needs to scrimp on minutes and seconds but right now he can’t bring himself to get up. Each tick of the clock just makes his gut clench with urgency but he can’t move. All the fight’s evaporated out of his body, leaving him tired and angry against the cold wooden floor.
He lies there for what feels like at least an hour, tears dripping onto the floor and fingernails scratching against the floor. The wood caves beneath his fingernails. Sungjong presses harder. Just a minute more, and he’ll get up. Practice. Just one more minute.
The door to the practice room bangs open.
Sungjong whirls around, and positively burns in shame. It’s Howon and Sungjong wants to die. Howon just stands there, looking at him.
Sungjong grabs his bag, and with one hand against his face, bolts out of the room.
-
“Sungjong-ah,” Sunggyu says and wraps an arm around his shoulders, shaking him gently, “when did you get so hardworking, hm? Howon tells me he saw you in the practice room in the dead of the night.”
Sungjong flinches and his eyes whips up to stare at Howon. If he told Sunggyu about his breakdown--
Howon meets his gaze evenly.
“I’ve been working hard this whole time, hyung, you just don’t see it,” Sungjong replies distractedly.
He waits for Sunggyu to frown, or ask him what’s wrong, but Sunggyu just thumps him on the back in encouragement and moves on to talk about the female JYP trainee he’s been texting.
-
Sungjong had met Jihyun once between the time she was bonded and when he left. Standing next to her as she steeled herself for childbirth, Sungjong dared not touch her. Jihyun merely gazed at him, her expression resigned. The AC rattled above them, but the room was stifling hot, the air syrupy and thick, not necessarily sweet.
“I’m glad you decided to go.” Her pretty mouth twisted into a small grimace. “It’s stifling here, isn’t it.”
Sungjong had no words of consolation then. He struggled before settling for, “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
“I hope I’ll see you on TV,” Jihyun said wistfully.
“Thank you.” His reply was almost automatic.
The murmur of the television filled the space between them, and it made Sungjong shift in his seat. He didn’t like silences. He still doesn’t.
“Sungjong-ah,” she sighed, her swollen belly heaving once with the motion, and Sungjong had hoped, for a moment, that she would suddenly jump up and hug him, talk to him the way she’d used to, cheerful and unabashed, but the moment never came.
Jihyun paused, and then said, “I’ll see you soon,” with a soft exhale, like a promise hung out to dry and then lost in the passing breeze.
Sungjong exhaled with her.
The strongest sense of longing comes not from a slow separation. It comes from the abruptness with which Sungjong left Gwangju behind him. Sungjong does not feel the loss immediately. Like shedding a second skin, the change is almost painless, but he itches nonetheless. Like the feelings scratching against the inside of his ribcage, Sungjong is stuck in a limbo, unsure if he should wait for the itch to pass or cave and scratch it, go home. Here, he is stripped of what he used to know, laid bare for Seoul to come pick apart. And Sungjong feels like there’s not much left of him to wear down anymore.
But still, he sings, dances, learns until his head pounds and he’s lost feeling in his limbs. Nothing is lost if there is nothing to lose.
-
Sungjong is alone in the practice room again. This time, he turns the volume all the way up so he can’t even think. Images of last night flit past his brain so quickly he barely has time to quash them before the feeling of despair swells in his throat. He spins to the music, and the image of his tears in the practice mirror surges forth so suddenly his throat clenches. Sungjong chokes, and it sounds like a muffled sob. He presses his fingernails into his fist. It’s not time to stop, not yet.
He still remembers today’s dance practice clearly.
Instructor Yong yelled at him again, and Sungjong had, in a fit of anger or desperation or just plain stupidity, gone up to Howon after practice and asked him if he could help him after class. Right after the request had come out of Sungjong’s mouth, he wished he could swallow everything back.
Howon merely nodded. “I’ll meet you in room 203 at eight?”
“Thank you.”
Sungjong looks at the clock. 7.59PM. The door opens. Huh. He really turned up.
-
Howon is everything Sungjong expects. He stops the music every five seconds to correct Sungjong, and when the clock ticks to 12.30AM, Sungjong sees Howon nodding a little in the mirror.
Sungjong ends the song with the finishing pose, and Howon kicks off from the wall.
“I think you’re good for today,” he says as he scoops up his bag from the floor.
Sungjong straightens and before he knows it, he’s let the pause between them stretch to the point of awkward. He scrambles to respond.
“Thank you for your help, Howon-sshi.”
“No problem.”
Howon pauses at the door to look back at Sungjong, and for a moment their eyes meet. Howon looks like he wants to say something, and Sungjong remembers lying on the floor in his own sweat and looking up at Howon’s face, the feeling of despair wracking his body with helpless tears. He lowers his gaze to continue fishing for his phone in his bag.
He waits for the door to swing shut before he looks up.
-
Sunggyu is his hyung, but he’s also a friend. Sungjong doesn’t even realise he’s swaying on his feet after practice before Sunggyu points it out.
“Sungjong-ah.” Sunggyu pokes at his arms worriedly. “Come have supper with us?”
Sungjong pauses. As much as he thinks of the extra practice he’s missing out on, he’s missed Sunggyu.
“Hey.” Sunggyu smiles at him. “Let’s hang out for a little bit. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah.” Sungjong is grateful that Sunggyu fills that gap in the conversation for him.
-
Sungjong is tired enough just so that his mind is a pleasant blank. Right now, he’s perfectly happy with sitting there and listening to Sunggyu and Howon talk.
“And-- Sungjong, are you listening?”
Sungjong hums so Sunggyu can continue.
“We were just sitting right at this spot and you wouldn’t believe the nerve of this kid. He just walks over and points to us, calling us ‘beggars’. Is my fashion sense that bad, Sungjong-ah?”
Sungjong pretends to stroke his chin thoughtfully.
“The kid’s not wrong...”
“Yah, come here you little--” Sunggyu scrambles up from the ground, hands outstretched.
Sungjong ducks behind Howon instinctively, not caring if he’s weird or uncomfortable with him. Surviving Sunggyu’s wrath is the most important thing right now. He holds Howon’s shoulders and tilts them to block Sunggyu’s flailing limbs.
“Stop that, hyung,” Howon snickers as he attempts to placate Sunggyu, “don’t bully your dongsaengs.”
“Yeah,” Sungjong agrees behind Howon.
Sunggyu tsks and plops his butt back onto the ground.
“Be careful when you sleep tonight, Sungjong-ah,” Sunggyu threatens and tries to open his eyes as wide as they can go.
“Don’t go straining your eyes now; there’s not even a difference from when you’re closing them,” Howon says. He grabs Sungjong and they scramble away from Sunggyu quickly.
“Yah, you two! Come back here!” Sunggyu bellows from behind them.
Sungjong doesn’t scream like a girl as they run. It’s a very manly yell. As manly as Howon’s, he’s pretty sure.
-
It’s pretty strange for Sungjong to watch Sunggyu and Howon work towards their debut for months and then be told he’d be joining them. Sungjong moves to a dorm large enough for five but that will house seven of them. Main vocal Woohyun moves into Sunggyu’s room so Sungjong and another trainee, Sungyeol, can move into Howon’s.
Sungjong feels close to Sungyeol almost instantly. There’s just something about Sungyeol. He is loud and brazen and Sungjong feels at ease with him because there is never a lull in conversation. Sungyeol oscillates almost violently between being Captain Wildchild and deeply contemplative, pulling him along with him out of meaningful discussions into mere chit-chat so quickly Sungjong can’t help but want to be around him. At first, he’s mostly listening, but later he’s joining in, talking as much or more than Sungyeol when they chat.
Sungyeol doesn’t have a lot of time for Sungjong, because his best friend Myungsoo is in the team too and the two of them are inseparable. Sometimes Sungjong feels like tagging along -- in the spirit of getting along better with his hyungs and all -- but the way Myungsoo angles his head towards Sungyeol’s is a clear sign that he doesn’t want their outings to be interrupted. Myungsoo likes Sungjong well enough, but Sungyeol is a different matter to him.
Sungjong spends what little free time he has in the dorms without Sunggyu. The original leader left a few days before Sungjong and Sungyeol moved in, and Sunggyu is now the oldest. Leader and Alpha. Sunggyu has to meet people and take care of administrative duties on top of practice. Sitting down to have a chat with the new magnae certainly isn’t priority.
Sunggyu’s changed, too. He’s harsh and blunt in his criticisms, and more than once that’s resulted in Woohyun going nose-to-nose with Sunggyu in a full-blown shouting match in the middle of the practice room. Sunggyu bosses them around in the dorms a little and no one complains except for Woohyun, who makes it very clear to Sunggyu that being an Alpha does not mean he is one step above the rest.
One thing, Sungjong thinks as he tries to block out the sounds of Sunggyu yelling at Woohyun in the dorm, that makes Sunggyu so brilliant and so flawed is his pride. And especially as the leader and an Alpha, Sunggyu isn’t used to outright defiance like what Woohyun exhibits on a daily basis. The other Betas on the team, like Sungjong, keep their resentment to themselves. Years of submitting to Alphas do that to people. Right now, Sungjong is secretly glad that Woohyun is standing up for himself. Sunggyu is getting a teeny bit overbearing these days. Sungjong would have stepped up to help, but he is the youngest and he’s not sure how the other hyungs would react if he talked over them. So he takes toilet breaks and brushes past Woohyun in the corridor and comes back to Dongwoo trying to talk to Sunggyu. Sunggyu becomes more irritable, which is understandable because of the stress of their upcoming debut, but he constantly pushes Sungjong away when he tries to make small talk.
After a while, Sungjong just stops trying.
-
Most times, Sungjong likes the way he looks, but today is one of those times that he hates it. He’s pretty and docile-looking, and for some reason that makes the other trainees in the company think he’s a really easy target. They jeer at him when he’s wandering around on his water break, so Sungjong takes to walking around with his earphones stuck to his ears, blasting Infinite’s newly recorded sounds. That’s his group’s name, and Sungjong has a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that he’s debuting. Somehow Infinite seems out of his reach even when he’s in it.
Today, he has “Dashidorawa” on maximum volume as he passes the other trainees in the corridor. Everything’s fine; he keeps his head down and sips his water unobtrusively, until one trainee rips his earpiece out and whispers into his ear, “You won’t last five months in that group, little girl--”
And despite what his manager has said about violence in public places Sungjong really wants to take a swing at this bitter asshole. He has his fist clenched and raised halfway before Howon jostles him roughly from behind.
“Let’s just go, Sungjong-ah.”
“Getting your boyfriend to help you now?” the trainee taunts, his beady eyes narrowed into a disgusting leer, and Sungjong takes a step back--
Howon pulls him around the corner and Sungjong feels a spike of irrational anger at him.
“Why didn’t you let me hit him? He had it coming,” he grits out, pushing at the arm on his shoulder.
But Howon just shakes his head, hand still firm on Sungjong’s bicep. “Let’s go to the rooftop.”
Sungjong follows him while his insides churn with the injustice of the situation. He wants, so much, to just turn around and find that trainee, teach him that he isn’t as docile as he seems, but his debut is so close and he’s not even part of the original five so if he fucks up now--
The door to the rooftop closes behind him with a loud slam.
“It’s windy today, isn’t it.” Howon squints at the sky.
Sungjong doesn’t bother with a reply.
“Sometimes,” Howon says and turns to look at Sungjong, “it’s best not to do anything. I know--” he holds up a hand when Sungjong open his mouth to interrupt-- “it’s hard to stay still but that’s just how things work.”
Howon’s mouth quirks into a small, sad smile, and as much as Sungjong wants to disagree, the truth is staring at him right in the face.
“It’s better to forget it and focus on something more worth your time. It makes you feel better,” Howon says softly.
“Things don’t change if I feel better.”
“They do.”
“Give me an example,” Sungjong says stubbornly.
Howon pauses for a second.
“Hyukjun-hyung left because he couldn’t stand the thought of his parents’ disapproval anymore, while you stayed in the company even after you didn’t make the cut, even after your mother asked you to go home.
“Even if determination doesn’t always create happiness, it changes everything, you see,” Howon says, and leans against the railing to look at the sky streaked pink by the dying rays of the sun. The wind whistles around them, ruffling their hair as they stand side-by-side.
Sungjong studies Howon’s face bathed in gold, and wonders.
-
"Gather 'round." Instructor Yong waves the seven of them over backstage on M!Countdown, and stares at them expectantly as they huddle around him.
"You've worked hard for this to happen. You've stayed up for an entire week so you can be perfect. So I don't expect anything less. Howon-sshi, Dongwoo-sshi, project your voices. Sunggyu-sshi, Woohyun-sshi, remember to find the cameras. Myung--I mean L-sshi, bend a little more like I've showed you. Sungyeol-sshi, knees. Sungjong-sshi, be focused and be sharp in your movements--" he glances to the stage coordinator tapping insistently on his shoulder. "You guys have two minutes. Okay everyone put your hands here." He stretches his hand out, palm down.
Everyone hurries to comply. Two minutes is barely a second.
"Infinite, hwaiting!" Sungjong yells with the rest of his team, and is promptly shooed onstage.
"Good luck, kiddos," Instructor Yong says behind them, thumping Sungjong on the back once, before Sungjong walks away from predebut, and walks into his dream.
-
Debut is the result of months of hard work, but it’s only when Sungjong’s standing on the stage mid-song that the realisation sinks in. He has to bite his lips so he won’t grin. There’re at least ten cameras trained on the stage and he doesn’t know which one is pointing in his direction -- later, later, he tells himself over the roaring in his ears, and slides back into position.
-
It’s perfect. Their debut stage is completely perfect, but the atmosphere afterwards is anything but. The post-performance high has faded away and it leaves Sungjong exhausted and feeling alone in his little corner. Sunggyu is still pissed at Woohyun and they situate themselves at two corners of the dressing room, metaphorical rainclouds over their heads and all. Sungjong wants to go up to Sunggyu, ask about how he did, ask if Sunggyu’s okay, but Sunggyu’s frown just deepens when anyone other than their managers or the coordi noonas approaches him. Sungyeol is with Myungsoo, as usual, and Sungjong doesn’t think he can muster the strength to go up to them today. Howon is off somewhere with the manager and Dongwoo is trying to talk to Woohyun, which must not be working because Woohyun is just shaking his head at whatever Dongwoo says.
So Sungjong sits on the couch, fiddling with his handphone strap every now and then while he waits for the rest of the staff to pack up. He’s already called his parents and it fills Sungjong with so much warmth at the pride in their voices, but right now he’s feeling more alone than ever in the room overcrowded with people.
Howon plops next to him on the couch with a sigh.
Sungjong turns to him, desperate to ask him -- was I okay? Did I do well for all of us? But he doesn’t need to, because Howon is already speaking, asking him about his phone call and Sungjong manages to force those overflowing words back down his throat and his heart to stop clenching in short, angry bursts so he can give a coherent reply.
“You did well today,” Howon says. Sungjong isn’t sure if Howon’s just trying to reassure him, but oddly enough, his mind clears and all he can think of is the way Howon looks at him, content and sleepy.
For now, it is enough.
-
Dorm life has been pretty calm for one with an Omega. Myungsoo had his first heat a few months after their debut, and apparently it was a godsend that he was in a secluded corner with Sungyeol at the time.
That’s what the other members think, anyway. Sungjong kept a close eye on them and called his mother the night when Myungsoo was bonded. For months, Sungjong watches Myungsoo carefully, picking out and and analysing every single expression that flits across his face.
As the days ended in the car or in his bunk, he would envision Jihyun in Myungsoo’s place, so wrapped up in her Alpha that no one could tell if she couldn’t let go of of him, or just wouldn’t.
-
It’s another day in the practice room and Sungjong wants to let himself break down and just yell at Sunggyu. He’s tired and sweaty and hungry, but Sunggyu refuses to let them take a break and Sungjong thinks he’ll vomit if he hears “Dashidorawa” through the speakers one more time.
“Sungjong-ah, stop slacking, “ Sunggyu yells from the other side of the room.
He stops the music and goes over to Sungjong.
“You’re not doing this correctly; when you come up”-- he pushes Sungjong’s torso to the right-- “you don’t stick your chest out so much.
“Again.”
Sungjong repeats the moves up till that point.
“No no no. “ Sunggyu is shaking his head. “That’s not right either.”
Sungjong wants to stop dancing and just go back to his dorm because it’s fucking embarrassing. All his hyungs are staring at him as he struggles with the simplest moves and the memories of trainees taunting him swim to the forefront of his mind.
“Hyung,” Howon says, squeezing in between them, “let me help him.”
Sunggyu runs a frustrated hand over his face.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll leave you to it.”
-
Half an hour later, Howon pulls Sungjong to the side so the rest can continue practicing.
“Okay, here”-- Howon nudges Sungjong’s right foot with his own-- “you have to place it outwards, and”-- a hand on the inside of his knee--“bend a little more.”
Sungjong looks up to face the mirror and realises that Howon is so close behind him. He feels his hyung’s soft breaths against his shoulder, and Sungjong wonders almost dazedly what would happen if he pressed himself against Howon’s chest by just shifting behind by an inch. He twists his head back --
Howon is already turning away from him, pressing play on his phone.
-
Muffled shouts filter into Sungjong’s room and he immediately scrambles out of his bed to go to the living room--
Where Dongwoo has Howon shoved up the wall by the throat and is yelling in his face.
“Say that again. I fucking dare you to say that again, you shit--” Sunggyu grabs Dongwoo by the middle and hauls him off Howon, elbowing and shouting in a mess of limbs and Sungjong is just too stunned to move from his spot.
Howon slides to the ground, choking and rubbing his throat and mouth, and when his hand falls to his side, Sungjong sees red splotches on his fingers. Sungjong grabs tissues from the kitchen and hands them over to him.
“You don’t know her so stay out of our business,” Dongwoo yells from the floor, his face pink in anger. Woohyun comes over to help Sunggyu hold him down.
“You don’t know her either so don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Howon snaps back, and dabs at his bruised lip tenderly. He bumps his shoulder into Sungjong’s harshly in his haste to get to the bathroom. The door slams behind him and rattles on its frame.
“Fucker,” Dongwoo mutters to the closed bathroom door. “Get off me,” he says to Sunggyu and Woohyun on top of him. Sunggyu pulls Woohyun to sit on the floor, heads bend towards Dongwoo as he sits up too.
“Dongwoo-yah,” Sunggyu begins.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dongwoo shrugs off Woohyun’s hand and storms to his room.
Sungjong goes back to his room, not knowing what to do.
-
Howon comes in a while later, face wet and pink, as though he tried to scrub it raw. The corner of his mouth is still oozing blood, one bead of red against the pink flesh. Sungjong plucks a tissue from the nightstand and hands it to him. Howon takes it with a small murmur of thanks.
“I don’t understand. If she’s making him so upset, why is he still clinging on?” Howon plops down next to Sungjong on the bed spread.
The AC whirs above them, filling the space in conversation where Sungjong doesn’t want to. The reply Sungjong wants to give isn’t what Howon wants to hear. But Sungjong thinks he needs to hear this. Sungjong thinks this is necessary. He will do it for Dongwoo, and all the other people Howon might hurt in the future.
“Maybe because despite all she’s done to him, he still wants another chance?”
Howon shakes his head. “Doesn’t seem like she’d appreciate that.”
“But this is something Dongwoo wants for himself, don’t you see? He’s heartbroken, but he chooses to forget that and try again.”
“Even so--”
“Even so,” Sungjong interrupts, “you don’t need to be blunt with him. Dongwoo doesn’t need that.”
Howon whips his head around to stare at Sungjong so fast their heads almost knock together. He just stares at Sungjong with a strange expression, as if he doesn’t know if he should praise Sungjong or protest stubbornly. Eventually, after several fidgety seconds, Howon’s mouth relaxes into a smile.
“How did you grow up so quickly, magnae?” he teases.
Sungjong can barely conceal his eye roll. Now he deserves some snark.
“Maybe because you haven’t grown at all?” And Sungjong scrambles out of the bed and into the living room before he can hear Howon’s sarcastic retort.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Sungjong hollers, breezing past Sunggyu and Woohyun. They’re still sitting on the floor, but they’re talking in muted voices with their heads so close the brown strands of Sunggyu’s hair mixes with Woohyun’s darker shade.
-
Sungjong wakes up to an urge to pee.
He glances at his phone and groans. 4AM and his bladder just can’t wait. He rolls out of his bunk softly so Howon won't wake and --
Howon isn't asleep.
He jerks a little when he sees Sungjong and Sungjong freezes. They peer at each other through the rungs of the ladder, and Sungjong debates whether to speak or not.
“Hyung, why’re you still up? It’s 4AM.”
The inside of his mouth feels like cotton.
“Ah.” Howon reaches over to unlock his phone, and the bright light illuminates the entire room. “It is, isn’t it.”
The conversation should have ended right there. But Sungjong wants to ask -- maybe because it’s in the middle of the night, maybe it’s seeing Howon tuck something hastily under his pillow when he saw Sungjong --
“What’re you doing up so early?”
Howon shuffles around in his blanket and lies down. The fading light from his phone screen illuminates the furrow of Howon’s eyebrows.
“Go to sleep, Sungjong-ah.”
“Is something bothering you, Howon-hyung?”
Howon sighs, a loud sound in the quietness of the dorm.
"My ex bonded a few days ago."
"Oh." Sungjong doesn't know what to do. Somehow saying 'I'm sorry' isn't an appropriate response. Sungjong doesn't even know how Howon feels about his ex-girlfriend.
"She thought that she should tell me."
"Were you thinking about her?"
Howon hums contemplatively. "And other things."
"Hyung, are you..."
Sungjong really thinks it's the lack of sleep that's making him say such strange things.
Luckily, it's the same for Howon.
"Alpha."
Sungjong exhales carefully, waiting for Howon to continue.
"If I hadn't left her, we might have been something else now. I don't miss her," Howon pauses, as if carefully contemplating his words. "Well, I do. But if I had stayed I might have been the one to bond her. I might have stayed in Busan.
“I was thinking about the life I might have had.”
“Then I’m glad you came to Seoul,” Sungjong blurts out, and almost recoils at how selfish he sounds.
But from the dim lighting coming from the home screen, he sees Howon’s mouth curl upwards into a gentle smile.
And he answers, “I’m glad, too.”
-
Sungjong wakes up about one hour later tired out of his mind.
Across from him, Myungsoo is face-down in his rice bowl.
“Gimme ten more minutes, Sung--”
A loud snore.
“You guys have five minutes.” The manager pokes his head into the kitchen.
Sungyeol gusts out a long-suffering sigh, and then in a sudden act of brutality, whacks Myungsoo’s head with his chopsticks.
-
There are pieces of rice still stuck to Myungsoo’s face, Sungjong observes with sick fascination. The car jostles a little, and a piece of rice falls onto Myungsoo’s lap. Sungyeol turns to wipe his face with a tissue while Myungsoo sleeps on, oblivious.
Sungjong instinctively turns away, unsure of what to think. On his side, Howon is sleeping with his head tilted slightly towards Sungjong. He watches as one, two bumps on the road make Howon’s head shift closer to Sungjong’s shoulder.
One more bump and his hair grazes Sungjong’s sweater.
It must be uncomfortable for his neck to stay like that, Sungjong thinks. So he slides his shoulder underneath Howon’s cheek and sits as still as he can when Howon nudges closer.
He watches their thighs bump together for the entire ride, and does not sleep a wink.
-
“Here, you have to hunch your back a little, like this.” Howon places one hand against Sungjong’s back, and the other against his abdomen.
“Like this?”
Sungjong looks into the mirror to meet Howon’s eyes. They stay in their positions for maybe a moment, just staring at each other. Howon slides his hand along Sungjong’s waist ever so slowly to rest at his hip. Sungjong feels a thumb brush against the bone. Then Howon is already stepping away, nodding.
“Exactly.”
-
“Sungjong-ah.”
Sungjong hums in reply, his eyes still focused on the text to Seungyeon. She's been glued to her computer screen since her recent breakup and he's been trying to get her to go out and meet new boys. It's not really working.
“What’s this?” Howon prods at Sungjong’s phone. “Girlfriend?”
Sungjong snatches his phone away before Howon can see what’s on the screen. “More like a friend who can’t get over her ex.”
Howon hazards a guess. “Soojung?”
Sungjong swats at him lightly. "If you're going to list any more names I'm just going to ignore you."
"Nicole? Bora?" Howon teases and puts his face even closer to Sungjong’s.
"How did you even know they've just broken up with their boyfriends, hyung?" Sungjong puts one hand against Howon's chest and pushes. And tries not to turn red at how firm it is under his fingers.
"You're not the only who knows about the latest celebrity gossip, Sungjong-ah."
“You’re so nosy,” Sungjong says affectionately. They’re so close he can see the flecks of brown in Howon’s irises.
And then Howon just pecks him on the cheek.
Sungjong jumps a little at the contact, and turns to look at him. He looks just as surprised.
"Um. Oh god, I'm so sorry, Sungjong-ah."
Sungjong wants, so much to just lean over and kiss Howon on the mouth, but he's not sure if Howon really means that or not. He doesn't want to be wrong.
"It's okay, hyung." Sungjong tries to force a smile on his face, but it might have been more like a grimace for how Howon's face falls.
Howon turns his head away awkwardly and Sungjong wants to grab him but he can't he can't and he just can't do anything but stare at the back of Howon's head and wait for the ache in his chest to subside.
>> part two
Pairing/Focus: Hoya/Sungjong
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sungjong doesn’t like silences in between conversations. One day he will understand his compulsive need to fill up the gaps, but he’s not betting on it. In which Sungjong moves from Gwangju to Seoul to chase a dream and finds himself dreaming to fight his waking nightmares. Going to sleep isn’t easy if a thousand whispered words blur together into a single scream. Omega!verse.
Author's note: A huge thank you to my beta as well as my proof-reader, who tolerated my whining, screaming and pestering as the deadline loomed closer. *pesters with love*
Final word count: 14940
Warnings: Implied dub-con
Sungjong gets the news right before he leaves for Seoul, the day after his middle school graduation. Jihyun is a mother now, and she’d just delivered this morning at the local hospital.
Word travels fast around his school.
He’d been in the same class with her since first grade. She was quiet, unobtrusive, obedient. Intelligent. Her Korean essays were printed out for the entire class to read. Jihyun was popular in class, too; had plenty of admirers and friends alike. But she was also an early bloomer.
She entered her first heat in the girl’s bathroom one evening, ten days before her fourteenth birthday. School was already over by then and most students were already on their way home, save for one Alpha boy.
Jihyun missed several weeks of lessons, and her friends brought her homework for her. It was terrible, Sungjong knows. They had to knock loudly at her door and leave her work on the doorstep. Her Alpha hadn’t allowed anyone to come close to her for months after the bonding. Sungjong remembers all this very clearly because he brought her homework almost every day until she could come back to school. He didn’t need printed handouts from the teacher because Jihyun would hand her homework over if only he’d asked.
First grade, Sungjong and Jihyun were tablemates.
Second grade, Jihyun called Sungjong her best friend.
After eighth grade, Sungjong didn’t see her very much at all. Sungjong saw her around school sometimes, frame curved around her Alpha, one hand pressed against her swelling belly.
Months before graduation, Sungjong had turned from best friend to a complete stranger. When he’d told his mother about Jihyun’s pregnancy, she merely muttered under her breath, “God be with her.” When he’d asked what she meant, she had smiled wanly at him and told him how lucky he was to come from a long line of Betas.
Right now, Sungjong has thirty minutes to catch the bus to Seoul. He leaves with Jihyun’s old mobile number in his phone.
-
Being street casted was easy, too easy, because Sungjong certainly didn’t expect training to be so gruelling. He’d heard stories, but nothing could compare to being right there, in the training room, trying and failing to catch up to the trainer’s instructions. The music stops, thankfully, and Sungjong glances at the clock. 11.15AM. Fifteen more minutes and for a moment, Sungjong just wants the practice to be over so he can sleep. But sleep isn’t important right now, when his moves are too fluid to look nice, and his voice lacks control. Sleep is a luxury he cannot afford if he wants to fill up the gaping holes in his abilities. Sungjong is the youngest trainee, but from the minute he entered the company, he was already behind. On some especially terrible days, Sungjong imagines packing his bags and moving back to Gwangju, before he remembers that there is no future for him there. Dropping out of school closes all doors but one.
Five minutes left and the instructor is already wrapping up. Sungjong doesn’t know if he should feel relieved that he gets to go early or terrible because he still needs to fix a ton of mistakes. The twinge of urgency goes as quickly as it comes when Sunggyu comes over to hook an arm over the back of his neck.
“Sungjong-ah, go eat with me?” Sunggyu is four years older than him, but the age gap feels much less than that. The first day they met, Sungjong made the grave mistake of flaunting his looks when Sunggyu complimented him, and Sunggyu gaped at him in shock. And then took him out for food. Sungjong learnt soon enough that Sunggyu warmed up to people really quickly.
Sunggyu proceeds to very affectionately pinch his cheeks. Sungjong likes his face very much and he doubts that a debut will be in his favour if his cheeks get saggy. “So cute, aigoooo.” Then Sunggyu starts to shake Sungjong’s head from side to side and Sungjong’s patience only stretches this far.
“Let’s go!” Sungjong wriggles out of Sunggyu’s grabby hands.
“Sungjong-ah, wait for me!”
Sungjong sighs in mock exasperation and continues walking. “We’re only going to have three hours of sleep if you keep at that pace.”
“Yah!” Sunggyu grabs him around the middle. “Wait for your hyung, will you.”
“But you’ve already caught up.”
Sunggyu glares at him. “Let’s go eat, Sungjong-ah.”
“So you said,” Sungjong mutters under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“I said, it’s really late.”
Sunggyu scrutinises him for about two seconds.
“Okay.” He draws out the first syllable, one eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Do you want ddukbokki?”
“Sounds good.”
-
Walking home, Sungjong thinks that he rather likes the silence between them. He usually struggles with gaps between conversations, but Sunggyu is comfortable, like a blanket on a chilly evening or a warm hand on his back in the heat of the dance studio. Sungjong feels close to him already.
He comes to his senses after a few moments. They look towards the same goal but want to attain it through different means; they share the same blinding dream of the future, but it is not the same. Sungjong finds that perhaps even with Sunggyu, he is falling behind. He thinks about how to mould himself, how to create someone who will debut with Sunggyu. Because Sunggyu will debut. He’s heard rumors of a five-member group. Sungjong is sure about many things in his life, but this is one thing that he believes in most strongly.
In his bedroll later, Sungjong covers his face with his hand so Sunggyu won’t see his face crumpling. Sunggyu is asleep, breath gusting in and out, the air tickling against Sungjong’s face. Sungjong wonders if he can fall asleep like this, with a single, unwavering thought that is repeated like a mantra every day instead of the swarm of conflicting emotions. But maybe it’s easy for Sunggyu, because Sunggyu is his only friend, but he is not Sunggyu’s. All Sungjong has is Sunggyu and Gwangju.
On some nights like this, when the loneliness is too overwhelming, Sungjong wishes he’d had remained at home. But right now he is here, and with Sunggyu as the only person whom he knows and relies on. It’s not exactly a place he wants to be in, but a place he has to be right now.
He wants things to change, but he wants things between them to stay the same. It’s a tall order, Sungjong knows.
-
He calls back home occasionally to talk to his mother. Some days, his father and his brother comes to the phone and Sungjong misses them so much that he shakes from the longing. Things are better when he hangs up; the swell of emotions subsides for a while, and he goes to sleep worn out but resolute again in his goal.
Sungjong only asks for Jihyun once or twice. He wants to ask more often, but it’s best not to sound too nosy. Alphas can get terribly possessive.
His mother had told him, voice hushed, how she had spoken to Jihyun’s mother. Jihyun wasn’t too happy to be with child so quickly, but her Alpha had been insistent.
“She doesn’t attend school anymore,” Sungjong’s mother said bitterly into the receiver.
“Doesn’t she have any say in this?” Sungjong feels his own voice shake with anger. Jihyun wanted to study geography in Seoul University; she’d told him herself, years ago.
Sungjong’s mother sighs.
“I don’t know. Jihyun’s mother doesn’t have a lot of say about this, since she’s an Ome--”
“Yeah, Omega. I know.”
She sighs again, but only now does Sungjong register that it’s as if his mother is speaking to a child who doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. He just wants to hang up and try to sleep.
“I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, umma.”
“Take care of yourself, Sungjong-ah.”
-
Two months into his training, the CEO brings in a boy from Busan to the dorms.
“This is Lee Howon, the new trainee I’ve been talking about. He’ll be living here from now on. I hope you,” and here the CEO looks at Sunggyu and Sungjong in turn, “will treat him well.”
Sungjong stands up to greet the newcomer.
The newcomer puts Sungjong in a difficult position. Lee Howon quickly establishes himself as the best dancer the company has. He can sing too, and picks up rap so easily Sungjong sometimes feels the frustration bubbling up to his throat after shared practice sessions. Lee Howon is everything Sungjong wants to be and more. Sungjong absolutely loathes him. Probably an Alpha too, Sungjong thinks as he watches the way Lee Howon’s shirt stick to his defined chest as he dances.
Sunggyu is absolutely drawn to him.
Sunggyu asks Howon to tag along with them when they go out for snacks after practice, and what makes it even more infuriating is that he actually asks Sungjong if Howon can come. As if he could say no.
So Sungjong walks one step behind the two of them on the narrow pavement that’s only wide enough for two. He takes out his phone and replies some of the trainees from the other companies -- friend-acquaintances who message him details about the latest gossip and how disgusting their lunches were -- and then nothing. There’s nothing to distract him from the fact that Sunggyu is chatting animatedly with Howon in front. Sungjong hardly cares about what they’re talking about when the familiar ache of loneliness settles in the pit of his belly, poisonous fumes of the emotion unfurling around his brain and almost intoxicating him. For a brief second, he contemplates squeezing past them to walk in front, anything, anything not to feel like he’s being left behind.
-
“Sungjong, you’re not sharp enough,” the instructor barks out from the front of the room, “you’re messing up the entire choreography!”
Sungjong stops mid-spin as he feels his face flush in shame. All eyes are on him, and he can feel more than one set that’s filled with disdain. Just your average Beta, he sometimes hear in bathrooms, can’t do anything well.
Maybe even an Omega, they chortle, who knows?
He wraps his hand deliberately into a fist so that he can feel the sting of fingernails against the soft flesh of his palm. His hands are soft, like a girl’s, his mother had remarked. He digs the fingernails in harder and wishes he could draw blood.
He bows low, muttering, “I’m sorry, I’ll work harder.”
What else can he do, besides working hard?
-
Howon sits opposite Sunggyu in the restaurant, and they have their heads huddled together, discussing the latest girl group that has caught their eye.
The ache is there again, resting in Sungjong’s stomach, pressing against his insides, filling him up to his throat until he’s bloated. He just wants to leave.
“I’m”-- he stands up, feeling their surprised gazes on him-- “going to practice more. Have fun,” he adds blandly and walks out of the shop without waiting for a reply.
-
Sungjong stays back after every practice, until it’s one, two in the morning. He dances until his lungs feel like bursting, then he practices some more. But once his concentration slips, his moves become more fluid than sharp, steps more languid than powerful. 2AM and Sungjong is nowhere near done, and then a thought hits him hard. He will never be done, for years and years after debut -- if he does debut -- after his career goes to shit, after marriage and children and --
He will never be done, never never never --
Sungjong drops to the ground with a muffled thump, mind reeling and tears threatening to spill over.
He curls in on himself and his thoughts and the clock ticks above him, mechanical and unfeeling. It’s almost cruel; Sungjong needs to scrimp on minutes and seconds but right now he can’t bring himself to get up. Each tick of the clock just makes his gut clench with urgency but he can’t move. All the fight’s evaporated out of his body, leaving him tired and angry against the cold wooden floor.
He lies there for what feels like at least an hour, tears dripping onto the floor and fingernails scratching against the floor. The wood caves beneath his fingernails. Sungjong presses harder. Just a minute more, and he’ll get up. Practice. Just one more minute.
The door to the practice room bangs open.
Sungjong whirls around, and positively burns in shame. It’s Howon and Sungjong wants to die. Howon just stands there, looking at him.
Sungjong grabs his bag, and with one hand against his face, bolts out of the room.
-
“Sungjong-ah,” Sunggyu says and wraps an arm around his shoulders, shaking him gently, “when did you get so hardworking, hm? Howon tells me he saw you in the practice room in the dead of the night.”
Sungjong flinches and his eyes whips up to stare at Howon. If he told Sunggyu about his breakdown--
Howon meets his gaze evenly.
“I’ve been working hard this whole time, hyung, you just don’t see it,” Sungjong replies distractedly.
He waits for Sunggyu to frown, or ask him what’s wrong, but Sunggyu just thumps him on the back in encouragement and moves on to talk about the female JYP trainee he’s been texting.
-
Sungjong had met Jihyun once between the time she was bonded and when he left. Standing next to her as she steeled herself for childbirth, Sungjong dared not touch her. Jihyun merely gazed at him, her expression resigned. The AC rattled above them, but the room was stifling hot, the air syrupy and thick, not necessarily sweet.
“I’m glad you decided to go.” Her pretty mouth twisted into a small grimace. “It’s stifling here, isn’t it.”
Sungjong had no words of consolation then. He struggled before settling for, “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
“I hope I’ll see you on TV,” Jihyun said wistfully.
“Thank you.” His reply was almost automatic.
The murmur of the television filled the space between them, and it made Sungjong shift in his seat. He didn’t like silences. He still doesn’t.
“Sungjong-ah,” she sighed, her swollen belly heaving once with the motion, and Sungjong had hoped, for a moment, that she would suddenly jump up and hug him, talk to him the way she’d used to, cheerful and unabashed, but the moment never came.
Jihyun paused, and then said, “I’ll see you soon,” with a soft exhale, like a promise hung out to dry and then lost in the passing breeze.
Sungjong exhaled with her.
The strongest sense of longing comes not from a slow separation. It comes from the abruptness with which Sungjong left Gwangju behind him. Sungjong does not feel the loss immediately. Like shedding a second skin, the change is almost painless, but he itches nonetheless. Like the feelings scratching against the inside of his ribcage, Sungjong is stuck in a limbo, unsure if he should wait for the itch to pass or cave and scratch it, go home. Here, he is stripped of what he used to know, laid bare for Seoul to come pick apart. And Sungjong feels like there’s not much left of him to wear down anymore.
But still, he sings, dances, learns until his head pounds and he’s lost feeling in his limbs. Nothing is lost if there is nothing to lose.
-
Sungjong is alone in the practice room again. This time, he turns the volume all the way up so he can’t even think. Images of last night flit past his brain so quickly he barely has time to quash them before the feeling of despair swells in his throat. He spins to the music, and the image of his tears in the practice mirror surges forth so suddenly his throat clenches. Sungjong chokes, and it sounds like a muffled sob. He presses his fingernails into his fist. It’s not time to stop, not yet.
He still remembers today’s dance practice clearly.
Instructor Yong yelled at him again, and Sungjong had, in a fit of anger or desperation or just plain stupidity, gone up to Howon after practice and asked him if he could help him after class. Right after the request had come out of Sungjong’s mouth, he wished he could swallow everything back.
Howon merely nodded. “I’ll meet you in room 203 at eight?”
“Thank you.”
Sungjong looks at the clock. 7.59PM. The door opens. Huh. He really turned up.
-
Howon is everything Sungjong expects. He stops the music every five seconds to correct Sungjong, and when the clock ticks to 12.30AM, Sungjong sees Howon nodding a little in the mirror.
Sungjong ends the song with the finishing pose, and Howon kicks off from the wall.
“I think you’re good for today,” he says as he scoops up his bag from the floor.
Sungjong straightens and before he knows it, he’s let the pause between them stretch to the point of awkward. He scrambles to respond.
“Thank you for your help, Howon-sshi.”
“No problem.”
Howon pauses at the door to look back at Sungjong, and for a moment their eyes meet. Howon looks like he wants to say something, and Sungjong remembers lying on the floor in his own sweat and looking up at Howon’s face, the feeling of despair wracking his body with helpless tears. He lowers his gaze to continue fishing for his phone in his bag.
He waits for the door to swing shut before he looks up.
-
Sunggyu is his hyung, but he’s also a friend. Sungjong doesn’t even realise he’s swaying on his feet after practice before Sunggyu points it out.
“Sungjong-ah.” Sunggyu pokes at his arms worriedly. “Come have supper with us?”
Sungjong pauses. As much as he thinks of the extra practice he’s missing out on, he’s missed Sunggyu.
“Hey.” Sunggyu smiles at him. “Let’s hang out for a little bit. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah.” Sungjong is grateful that Sunggyu fills that gap in the conversation for him.
-
Sungjong is tired enough just so that his mind is a pleasant blank. Right now, he’s perfectly happy with sitting there and listening to Sunggyu and Howon talk.
“And-- Sungjong, are you listening?”
Sungjong hums so Sunggyu can continue.
“We were just sitting right at this spot and you wouldn’t believe the nerve of this kid. He just walks over and points to us, calling us ‘beggars’. Is my fashion sense that bad, Sungjong-ah?”
Sungjong pretends to stroke his chin thoughtfully.
“The kid’s not wrong...”
“Yah, come here you little--” Sunggyu scrambles up from the ground, hands outstretched.
Sungjong ducks behind Howon instinctively, not caring if he’s weird or uncomfortable with him. Surviving Sunggyu’s wrath is the most important thing right now. He holds Howon’s shoulders and tilts them to block Sunggyu’s flailing limbs.
“Stop that, hyung,” Howon snickers as he attempts to placate Sunggyu, “don’t bully your dongsaengs.”
“Yeah,” Sungjong agrees behind Howon.
Sunggyu tsks and plops his butt back onto the ground.
“Be careful when you sleep tonight, Sungjong-ah,” Sunggyu threatens and tries to open his eyes as wide as they can go.
“Don’t go straining your eyes now; there’s not even a difference from when you’re closing them,” Howon says. He grabs Sungjong and they scramble away from Sunggyu quickly.
“Yah, you two! Come back here!” Sunggyu bellows from behind them.
Sungjong doesn’t scream like a girl as they run. It’s a very manly yell. As manly as Howon’s, he’s pretty sure.
-
It’s pretty strange for Sungjong to watch Sunggyu and Howon work towards their debut for months and then be told he’d be joining them. Sungjong moves to a dorm large enough for five but that will house seven of them. Main vocal Woohyun moves into Sunggyu’s room so Sungjong and another trainee, Sungyeol, can move into Howon’s.
Sungjong feels close to Sungyeol almost instantly. There’s just something about Sungyeol. He is loud and brazen and Sungjong feels at ease with him because there is never a lull in conversation. Sungyeol oscillates almost violently between being Captain Wildchild and deeply contemplative, pulling him along with him out of meaningful discussions into mere chit-chat so quickly Sungjong can’t help but want to be around him. At first, he’s mostly listening, but later he’s joining in, talking as much or more than Sungyeol when they chat.
Sungyeol doesn’t have a lot of time for Sungjong, because his best friend Myungsoo is in the team too and the two of them are inseparable. Sometimes Sungjong feels like tagging along -- in the spirit of getting along better with his hyungs and all -- but the way Myungsoo angles his head towards Sungyeol’s is a clear sign that he doesn’t want their outings to be interrupted. Myungsoo likes Sungjong well enough, but Sungyeol is a different matter to him.
Sungjong spends what little free time he has in the dorms without Sunggyu. The original leader left a few days before Sungjong and Sungyeol moved in, and Sunggyu is now the oldest. Leader and Alpha. Sunggyu has to meet people and take care of administrative duties on top of practice. Sitting down to have a chat with the new magnae certainly isn’t priority.
Sunggyu’s changed, too. He’s harsh and blunt in his criticisms, and more than once that’s resulted in Woohyun going nose-to-nose with Sunggyu in a full-blown shouting match in the middle of the practice room. Sunggyu bosses them around in the dorms a little and no one complains except for Woohyun, who makes it very clear to Sunggyu that being an Alpha does not mean he is one step above the rest.
One thing, Sungjong thinks as he tries to block out the sounds of Sunggyu yelling at Woohyun in the dorm, that makes Sunggyu so brilliant and so flawed is his pride. And especially as the leader and an Alpha, Sunggyu isn’t used to outright defiance like what Woohyun exhibits on a daily basis. The other Betas on the team, like Sungjong, keep their resentment to themselves. Years of submitting to Alphas do that to people. Right now, Sungjong is secretly glad that Woohyun is standing up for himself. Sunggyu is getting a teeny bit overbearing these days. Sungjong would have stepped up to help, but he is the youngest and he’s not sure how the other hyungs would react if he talked over them. So he takes toilet breaks and brushes past Woohyun in the corridor and comes back to Dongwoo trying to talk to Sunggyu. Sunggyu becomes more irritable, which is understandable because of the stress of their upcoming debut, but he constantly pushes Sungjong away when he tries to make small talk.
After a while, Sungjong just stops trying.
-
Most times, Sungjong likes the way he looks, but today is one of those times that he hates it. He’s pretty and docile-looking, and for some reason that makes the other trainees in the company think he’s a really easy target. They jeer at him when he’s wandering around on his water break, so Sungjong takes to walking around with his earphones stuck to his ears, blasting Infinite’s newly recorded sounds. That’s his group’s name, and Sungjong has a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that he’s debuting. Somehow Infinite seems out of his reach even when he’s in it.
Today, he has “Dashidorawa” on maximum volume as he passes the other trainees in the corridor. Everything’s fine; he keeps his head down and sips his water unobtrusively, until one trainee rips his earpiece out and whispers into his ear, “You won’t last five months in that group, little girl--”
And despite what his manager has said about violence in public places Sungjong really wants to take a swing at this bitter asshole. He has his fist clenched and raised halfway before Howon jostles him roughly from behind.
“Let’s just go, Sungjong-ah.”
“Getting your boyfriend to help you now?” the trainee taunts, his beady eyes narrowed into a disgusting leer, and Sungjong takes a step back--
Howon pulls him around the corner and Sungjong feels a spike of irrational anger at him.
“Why didn’t you let me hit him? He had it coming,” he grits out, pushing at the arm on his shoulder.
But Howon just shakes his head, hand still firm on Sungjong’s bicep. “Let’s go to the rooftop.”
Sungjong follows him while his insides churn with the injustice of the situation. He wants, so much, to just turn around and find that trainee, teach him that he isn’t as docile as he seems, but his debut is so close and he’s not even part of the original five so if he fucks up now--
The door to the rooftop closes behind him with a loud slam.
“It’s windy today, isn’t it.” Howon squints at the sky.
Sungjong doesn’t bother with a reply.
“Sometimes,” Howon says and turns to look at Sungjong, “it’s best not to do anything. I know--” he holds up a hand when Sungjong open his mouth to interrupt-- “it’s hard to stay still but that’s just how things work.”
Howon’s mouth quirks into a small, sad smile, and as much as Sungjong wants to disagree, the truth is staring at him right in the face.
“It’s better to forget it and focus on something more worth your time. It makes you feel better,” Howon says softly.
“Things don’t change if I feel better.”
“They do.”
“Give me an example,” Sungjong says stubbornly.
Howon pauses for a second.
“Hyukjun-hyung left because he couldn’t stand the thought of his parents’ disapproval anymore, while you stayed in the company even after you didn’t make the cut, even after your mother asked you to go home.
“Even if determination doesn’t always create happiness, it changes everything, you see,” Howon says, and leans against the railing to look at the sky streaked pink by the dying rays of the sun. The wind whistles around them, ruffling their hair as they stand side-by-side.
Sungjong studies Howon’s face bathed in gold, and wonders.
-
"Gather 'round." Instructor Yong waves the seven of them over backstage on M!Countdown, and stares at them expectantly as they huddle around him.
"You've worked hard for this to happen. You've stayed up for an entire week so you can be perfect. So I don't expect anything less. Howon-sshi, Dongwoo-sshi, project your voices. Sunggyu-sshi, Woohyun-sshi, remember to find the cameras. Myung--I mean L-sshi, bend a little more like I've showed you. Sungyeol-sshi, knees. Sungjong-sshi, be focused and be sharp in your movements--" he glances to the stage coordinator tapping insistently on his shoulder. "You guys have two minutes. Okay everyone put your hands here." He stretches his hand out, palm down.
Everyone hurries to comply. Two minutes is barely a second.
"Infinite, hwaiting!" Sungjong yells with the rest of his team, and is promptly shooed onstage.
"Good luck, kiddos," Instructor Yong says behind them, thumping Sungjong on the back once, before Sungjong walks away from predebut, and walks into his dream.
-
Debut is the result of months of hard work, but it’s only when Sungjong’s standing on the stage mid-song that the realisation sinks in. He has to bite his lips so he won’t grin. There’re at least ten cameras trained on the stage and he doesn’t know which one is pointing in his direction -- later, later, he tells himself over the roaring in his ears, and slides back into position.
-
It’s perfect. Their debut stage is completely perfect, but the atmosphere afterwards is anything but. The post-performance high has faded away and it leaves Sungjong exhausted and feeling alone in his little corner. Sunggyu is still pissed at Woohyun and they situate themselves at two corners of the dressing room, metaphorical rainclouds over their heads and all. Sungjong wants to go up to Sunggyu, ask about how he did, ask if Sunggyu’s okay, but Sunggyu’s frown just deepens when anyone other than their managers or the coordi noonas approaches him. Sungyeol is with Myungsoo, as usual, and Sungjong doesn’t think he can muster the strength to go up to them today. Howon is off somewhere with the manager and Dongwoo is trying to talk to Woohyun, which must not be working because Woohyun is just shaking his head at whatever Dongwoo says.
So Sungjong sits on the couch, fiddling with his handphone strap every now and then while he waits for the rest of the staff to pack up. He’s already called his parents and it fills Sungjong with so much warmth at the pride in their voices, but right now he’s feeling more alone than ever in the room overcrowded with people.
Howon plops next to him on the couch with a sigh.
Sungjong turns to him, desperate to ask him -- was I okay? Did I do well for all of us? But he doesn’t need to, because Howon is already speaking, asking him about his phone call and Sungjong manages to force those overflowing words back down his throat and his heart to stop clenching in short, angry bursts so he can give a coherent reply.
“You did well today,” Howon says. Sungjong isn’t sure if Howon’s just trying to reassure him, but oddly enough, his mind clears and all he can think of is the way Howon looks at him, content and sleepy.
For now, it is enough.
-
Dorm life has been pretty calm for one with an Omega. Myungsoo had his first heat a few months after their debut, and apparently it was a godsend that he was in a secluded corner with Sungyeol at the time.
That’s what the other members think, anyway. Sungjong kept a close eye on them and called his mother the night when Myungsoo was bonded. For months, Sungjong watches Myungsoo carefully, picking out and and analysing every single expression that flits across his face.
As the days ended in the car or in his bunk, he would envision Jihyun in Myungsoo’s place, so wrapped up in her Alpha that no one could tell if she couldn’t let go of of him, or just wouldn’t.
-
It’s another day in the practice room and Sungjong wants to let himself break down and just yell at Sunggyu. He’s tired and sweaty and hungry, but Sunggyu refuses to let them take a break and Sungjong thinks he’ll vomit if he hears “Dashidorawa” through the speakers one more time.
“Sungjong-ah, stop slacking, “ Sunggyu yells from the other side of the room.
He stops the music and goes over to Sungjong.
“You’re not doing this correctly; when you come up”-- he pushes Sungjong’s torso to the right-- “you don’t stick your chest out so much.
“Again.”
Sungjong repeats the moves up till that point.
“No no no. “ Sunggyu is shaking his head. “That’s not right either.”
Sungjong wants to stop dancing and just go back to his dorm because it’s fucking embarrassing. All his hyungs are staring at him as he struggles with the simplest moves and the memories of trainees taunting him swim to the forefront of his mind.
“Hyung,” Howon says, squeezing in between them, “let me help him.”
Sunggyu runs a frustrated hand over his face.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll leave you to it.”
-
Half an hour later, Howon pulls Sungjong to the side so the rest can continue practicing.
“Okay, here”-- Howon nudges Sungjong’s right foot with his own-- “you have to place it outwards, and”-- a hand on the inside of his knee--“bend a little more.”
Sungjong looks up to face the mirror and realises that Howon is so close behind him. He feels his hyung’s soft breaths against his shoulder, and Sungjong wonders almost dazedly what would happen if he pressed himself against Howon’s chest by just shifting behind by an inch. He twists his head back --
Howon is already turning away from him, pressing play on his phone.
-
Muffled shouts filter into Sungjong’s room and he immediately scrambles out of his bed to go to the living room--
Where Dongwoo has Howon shoved up the wall by the throat and is yelling in his face.
“Say that again. I fucking dare you to say that again, you shit--” Sunggyu grabs Dongwoo by the middle and hauls him off Howon, elbowing and shouting in a mess of limbs and Sungjong is just too stunned to move from his spot.
Howon slides to the ground, choking and rubbing his throat and mouth, and when his hand falls to his side, Sungjong sees red splotches on his fingers. Sungjong grabs tissues from the kitchen and hands them over to him.
“You don’t know her so stay out of our business,” Dongwoo yells from the floor, his face pink in anger. Woohyun comes over to help Sunggyu hold him down.
“You don’t know her either so don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Howon snaps back, and dabs at his bruised lip tenderly. He bumps his shoulder into Sungjong’s harshly in his haste to get to the bathroom. The door slams behind him and rattles on its frame.
“Fucker,” Dongwoo mutters to the closed bathroom door. “Get off me,” he says to Sunggyu and Woohyun on top of him. Sunggyu pulls Woohyun to sit on the floor, heads bend towards Dongwoo as he sits up too.
“Dongwoo-yah,” Sunggyu begins.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dongwoo shrugs off Woohyun’s hand and storms to his room.
Sungjong goes back to his room, not knowing what to do.
-
Howon comes in a while later, face wet and pink, as though he tried to scrub it raw. The corner of his mouth is still oozing blood, one bead of red against the pink flesh. Sungjong plucks a tissue from the nightstand and hands it to him. Howon takes it with a small murmur of thanks.
“I don’t understand. If she’s making him so upset, why is he still clinging on?” Howon plops down next to Sungjong on the bed spread.
The AC whirs above them, filling the space in conversation where Sungjong doesn’t want to. The reply Sungjong wants to give isn’t what Howon wants to hear. But Sungjong thinks he needs to hear this. Sungjong thinks this is necessary. He will do it for Dongwoo, and all the other people Howon might hurt in the future.
“Maybe because despite all she’s done to him, he still wants another chance?”
Howon shakes his head. “Doesn’t seem like she’d appreciate that.”
“But this is something Dongwoo wants for himself, don’t you see? He’s heartbroken, but he chooses to forget that and try again.”
“Even so--”
“Even so,” Sungjong interrupts, “you don’t need to be blunt with him. Dongwoo doesn’t need that.”
Howon whips his head around to stare at Sungjong so fast their heads almost knock together. He just stares at Sungjong with a strange expression, as if he doesn’t know if he should praise Sungjong or protest stubbornly. Eventually, after several fidgety seconds, Howon’s mouth relaxes into a smile.
“How did you grow up so quickly, magnae?” he teases.
Sungjong can barely conceal his eye roll. Now he deserves some snark.
“Maybe because you haven’t grown at all?” And Sungjong scrambles out of the bed and into the living room before he can hear Howon’s sarcastic retort.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Sungjong hollers, breezing past Sunggyu and Woohyun. They’re still sitting on the floor, but they’re talking in muted voices with their heads so close the brown strands of Sunggyu’s hair mixes with Woohyun’s darker shade.
-
Sungjong wakes up to an urge to pee.
He glances at his phone and groans. 4AM and his bladder just can’t wait. He rolls out of his bunk softly so Howon won't wake and --
Howon isn't asleep.
He jerks a little when he sees Sungjong and Sungjong freezes. They peer at each other through the rungs of the ladder, and Sungjong debates whether to speak or not.
“Hyung, why’re you still up? It’s 4AM.”
The inside of his mouth feels like cotton.
“Ah.” Howon reaches over to unlock his phone, and the bright light illuminates the entire room. “It is, isn’t it.”
The conversation should have ended right there. But Sungjong wants to ask -- maybe because it’s in the middle of the night, maybe it’s seeing Howon tuck something hastily under his pillow when he saw Sungjong --
“What’re you doing up so early?”
Howon shuffles around in his blanket and lies down. The fading light from his phone screen illuminates the furrow of Howon’s eyebrows.
“Go to sleep, Sungjong-ah.”
“Is something bothering you, Howon-hyung?”
Howon sighs, a loud sound in the quietness of the dorm.
"My ex bonded a few days ago."
"Oh." Sungjong doesn't know what to do. Somehow saying 'I'm sorry' isn't an appropriate response. Sungjong doesn't even know how Howon feels about his ex-girlfriend.
"She thought that she should tell me."
"Were you thinking about her?"
Howon hums contemplatively. "And other things."
"Hyung, are you..."
Sungjong really thinks it's the lack of sleep that's making him say such strange things.
Luckily, it's the same for Howon.
"Alpha."
Sungjong exhales carefully, waiting for Howon to continue.
"If I hadn't left her, we might have been something else now. I don't miss her," Howon pauses, as if carefully contemplating his words. "Well, I do. But if I had stayed I might have been the one to bond her. I might have stayed in Busan.
“I was thinking about the life I might have had.”
“Then I’m glad you came to Seoul,” Sungjong blurts out, and almost recoils at how selfish he sounds.
But from the dim lighting coming from the home screen, he sees Howon’s mouth curl upwards into a gentle smile.
And he answers, “I’m glad, too.”
-
Sungjong wakes up about one hour later tired out of his mind.
Across from him, Myungsoo is face-down in his rice bowl.
“Gimme ten more minutes, Sung--”
A loud snore.
“You guys have five minutes.” The manager pokes his head into the kitchen.
Sungyeol gusts out a long-suffering sigh, and then in a sudden act of brutality, whacks Myungsoo’s head with his chopsticks.
-
There are pieces of rice still stuck to Myungsoo’s face, Sungjong observes with sick fascination. The car jostles a little, and a piece of rice falls onto Myungsoo’s lap. Sungyeol turns to wipe his face with a tissue while Myungsoo sleeps on, oblivious.
Sungjong instinctively turns away, unsure of what to think. On his side, Howon is sleeping with his head tilted slightly towards Sungjong. He watches as one, two bumps on the road make Howon’s head shift closer to Sungjong’s shoulder.
One more bump and his hair grazes Sungjong’s sweater.
It must be uncomfortable for his neck to stay like that, Sungjong thinks. So he slides his shoulder underneath Howon’s cheek and sits as still as he can when Howon nudges closer.
He watches their thighs bump together for the entire ride, and does not sleep a wink.
-
“Here, you have to hunch your back a little, like this.” Howon places one hand against Sungjong’s back, and the other against his abdomen.
“Like this?”
Sungjong looks into the mirror to meet Howon’s eyes. They stay in their positions for maybe a moment, just staring at each other. Howon slides his hand along Sungjong’s waist ever so slowly to rest at his hip. Sungjong feels a thumb brush against the bone. Then Howon is already stepping away, nodding.
“Exactly.”
-
“Sungjong-ah.”
Sungjong hums in reply, his eyes still focused on the text to Seungyeon. She's been glued to her computer screen since her recent breakup and he's been trying to get her to go out and meet new boys. It's not really working.
“What’s this?” Howon prods at Sungjong’s phone. “Girlfriend?”
Sungjong snatches his phone away before Howon can see what’s on the screen. “More like a friend who can’t get over her ex.”
Howon hazards a guess. “Soojung?”
Sungjong swats at him lightly. "If you're going to list any more names I'm just going to ignore you."
"Nicole? Bora?" Howon teases and puts his face even closer to Sungjong’s.
"How did you even know they've just broken up with their boyfriends, hyung?" Sungjong puts one hand against Howon's chest and pushes. And tries not to turn red at how firm it is under his fingers.
"You're not the only who knows about the latest celebrity gossip, Sungjong-ah."
“You’re so nosy,” Sungjong says affectionately. They’re so close he can see the flecks of brown in Howon’s irises.
And then Howon just pecks him on the cheek.
Sungjong jumps a little at the contact, and turns to look at him. He looks just as surprised.
"Um. Oh god, I'm so sorry, Sungjong-ah."
Sungjong wants, so much to just lean over and kiss Howon on the mouth, but he's not sure if Howon really means that or not. He doesn't want to be wrong.
"It's okay, hyung." Sungjong tries to force a smile on his face, but it might have been more like a grimace for how Howon's face falls.
Howon turns his head away awkwardly and Sungjong wants to grab him but he can't he can't and he just can't do anything but stare at the back of Howon's head and wait for the ache in his chest to subside.
>> part two