iss 2011: for orchibi
To: orchibi
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Christmas Wings
Pairing/Focus: Implied LxSungjong
Rating: PG
Word count: 2253
Summary: Sungjong gets frustrated with his hyungs and comes down with a rare Christmas malady. Luckily, the ones that caused his symptoms may also be the cure.
"No, we're not using a Transformer for a tree-topper," Sungjong growled, fists perched on his hips as he glared up at Sungyeol, who was holding the toy threateningly over the tip of the fake Christmas tree.
"Aw, come on! Let's vote on it!"
"No!"
"I like it!" Hoya said brightly. Sungjong twisted around and rolled his eyes at him.
Sungyeol cackled wildly and plucked off the beautiful angel from her roost at the peak of the tree, then tried to jam the Transformer down so it would stay.
L sighed. He hated Infinite's petty arguments. He was pretty sure Sungyeol was doing this just to rile the maknae up, anyway. That big goof could care less if his Transformer figure made it on the tree or not; but it would devastate the youngest.
Since they'd decided as a band to go all out and really dress up their dorm for Christmas, Sungjong had leaped on the task like a young (and male) Martha Stewart. He'd done beautiful work, so far. Frosted garland hung across the walls, cinammon candles glowed in every room, and strings of soft gold and silver lights arced across their living room ceiling like a sky of winter stars.
"Yah, stop baiting him, hyung!" L finally snapped, his voice and eyes forbiddingly stern.
Sungyeol shrank away from the tree, holding the Transformer reflexively to his chest. "I was just playing," he pouted, looking guilty. It just confirmed what L had thought: he hadn't cared that much, he was just trying to get a rise out of Sungjong. Hoya dutifully replaced the angel and followed Sungyeol's heels as he slunk away, chatting obliviously.
The maknae finally unclenched his fists and glanced at L. L had expected to see gratitude in his expression, maybe a determined little smile, but instead he saw that something had broken in Sungjong's spirit. His pinched mouth and wide, wet eyes made him look like he'd scream at the next person who touched him or talked to him.
L was so shocked that he stood frozen as Sungjong turned on his heel and walked quickly to he and Hoya's room, slamming the door harder than usual behind him.
"...It's not my turn with him," Sunggyu finally said from the couch, where he was working on his assigned task of stringing popcorn and cranberries onto thread. He didn't even look up.
Sungyeol, who'd watched pale-faced from the kitchen, started forward. "It's my fault, I shouldn't've-"
L waved a hand at him dismissively, still irritated at the older. "Don't bother."
***
The door was locked, of course. L knocked on it softly. "Let me in."
He wasn't sure what Sungjong's muffled response was, but it didn't sound positive.
L waited, listening; and when he didn't hear Sungjong moving, he sighed. "You know this is why we have a master-key now, right? Do you really want to be known as a tantrum-dol?"
Silence.
"I'll really do it. Anytime I mention you online, I'll refer to you as our tantrum-dol. And you'd never lose that nickname, not in a thousand years."
The door opened. Sungjong glared at him. L stared down into his eyes cooly, a faint smile on his lips. "I'm sorry. Can I come in?"
He saw a flash of fear in the maknae's face. His white fingers were trembling against he doorframe.
"What's wrong?"
Sungjong looked around suspiciously, then took hold of the hem of L's shirt and drew him in. He shut the door and locked it again.
L stared at him in concern. The maknae's face was a little flushed, and his fingers were still shaking.
"Don't... don't freak out, and go run and tell anyone, alright?" Sungjong began.
"I...won't."
The maknae took off his sweatshirt, and turned around. L fell back against the door, hand flying to his mouth, eyebrows clenched together in shock.
Sungjong looked at him over his shoulder. "They've been there for a couple days now. I think they're a bit bigger, today. That's why I've been wearing bulky sweatshirts everyday." The small wings, pale and tinged rose at the tips of the long feathers, flexed like spreading fingers.
"Oh, he's got Christmas wings!" Dongwoo said.
Both of them jumped at the new voice. Dongwoo sat up suddenly from where he'd been hidden, napping on the floor between Hoya's bed and the wall. He'd even been covered with a pile of coats, further camoflaging his presence.
"How long have you been in here?!" Sungjong hissed, jerking around and holding his shirt to his chest.
Dongwoo looked sorry. "I didn't mean to spy, but I was already in here, napping... I just woke up a minute ago."
"Why didn't you sound surprised at...at his wings?" L asked suspiciously, cutting through the brewing argument.
Dongwoo beamed his white teeth. "Oh, my mom used to get those every year, around this same time. Don't you know about the Christmas wings?"
L blinked, a feeling of unreality sweeping over his mind and making him feel dizzy. "What?"
"Yeah! Whenever someone gets really upset around Christmas, they might be blessed by the angel of Christmas! The wings are to remind you to relax, and remember that love is the true spirit of Christmas...and that kind of thing. But yeah, my mom got them all the time. And a few other people too, sometimes."
L and Sungjong could only stare. But when Dongwoo didn't stop that innocent smiling, L finally shook his head and ran his nails through his hair. "Oh my god, he's telling the truth."
Sungjong looked more scared then he had before. L noticed tears trembling at the edge of his eyes. He tugged the kid to him and wrapped his arms around him. He didn't know how he managed not to flip out when his fingers accidently brushed against a silky feather. He moved his hand away awkwardly, thankful that Sungjong didn't seem to notice.
"Well.... I'll just... go now..." Dongwoo coughed, scooting out of the room. His voice grew more and more quiet with each word. "Sorry. Byeee."
"Wait," L said.
"Huh?"
"How did your mother get rid of them?"
"Get rid of what?"
"... the wings, bonehead."
"Ohhhhh!"
L glared dangerously. He could feel Sungjong's nails tightening against his arms.
Dongwoo held up his hands, looking like a man about to fend off a lion attack. "You just gotta like... get into the Christmas spirit. It's like I said: love, and all that."
L looked away as he digested this. Dongwoo took his chance and hurried out, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible.
L sighed and gently led Sungjong over to his bed, setting him down on the edge. The maknae's head was downcast, his hands pressed to his eyes, his face. His shoulders shook a little here and there, and he uttered soft, fitful sounds as he cried. L put his hand on Sungjong's bare lower back, and slowly slid his fingers upward. He touched one of his wings, daringly this time. "Can you feel it when I touch a feather?" He murmured.
Sungjong paused, as if thinking about it; then slowly nodded.
L slid a finger in between two of the longest feathers, caressing their length. "What does it feel like?"
"Like... good," he sniffed wetly, taking a steadying breath as he got a hold of his emotions.
L's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Good like...what?"
Sungjong watched him from the corner of his large eyes.
God, he looks like a child. A beautiful child. L thought.
"Like... when a mom runs her fingers through your hair over and over."
"Ah. Should I keep doing it, then?"
"...yeah."
L smiled, even flashing a rare glimpse of teeth. "Lay down. I'll keep doing it until you fall asleep. You need a nap."
He was surprised when Sungjong obeyed, stretching out on his flat stomach like a cat.
"You've been working so hard, harder than all of us," L began, both hands engaged as he gently ruffled his feathers. "The house looks beautiful."
"No one cares!"
L's fingers faltered for a moment. "Yah, are you crazy?! Of course they care. We all love it. It makes us feel like we're at home again..."
Sungjong shrugged his shoulders angrily, though it was hard to do face-down in bed.
"Stop, don't move... Does it feel good if I touch them here?" He asked, sliding the pad of his thumb along the slightly pink skin from which the wings grew.
"...yes."
"Okay, just concentrate on that. No more angry thoughts, or they're never going to go away."
"..."
"But it's not true, you know. We appreciate everything you do for us, and you do it way better than any of us could do, anyway. We'd be lost without you."
"..."
"...you sleeping?"
"..."
"Goodnight, for a while."
***
Sungjong woke groggy, a few hours later. His head felt all clogged up and his vision was even blurry. That nap had done him little good.
The existence of his wings rushed back to him all of a sudden, like a blow. He craned back to touch them. They were smaller! Not gone, but definitely smaller! He pulled his sweatshirt on again. Yeah. Definitely smaller. The thick material didn't catch on them nearly as much.
His heart feeling lighter than it had for days, he padded down the hall. He only had half a second to register the long table in the living room, and the six members of Infinite crowded around it, before they screamed at him.
"Merry Christmas Eve's Eve!" They shouted. Someone, maybe multiple people, even threw up handfuls of glittering confetti made to look like snow.
"What's going on?" Sungjong was smiling despite himself, approaching the table and widening his eyes at what he saw there. If he were ever going to have a very last meal, a last feast on the day before he knew he'd die- it would be comprised of the food that was laid out on the table before him. There was sushi, chicken, an array of side-dishes, a tray of pastries- and many of them bore names from different restaurants, meaning there must have been a scavenger hunt across the city to procure all these things!
Sunggyu patted him on the back. "We wanted to thank you for always giving your all for us, Sungjonggie. And we're sorry for always giving you a hard time. It's hard for us hyungs, sometimes. You're just too cute, you know that?"
Sungjong blushed a little, his eyes wandering to the other Infinite members, all of whom were in agreement. L smiled at him calmly, betraying nothing. Suddenly, Sungjong noticed that the chair at the end of the table was empty. It was the highest chair, even hung with an extra length of garland on the back. Some of the most delectable dishes were gathered at that end of the table, circling the future diner's plate.
Dongwoo appeared behind him and marched him to that seat of honor, squeezing his shoulders comfortably. The way Dongwoo treated the knowledge of his wings like they were nothing made him want to burst into tears, again. It was a relief. He let himself be pushed numbly into the chair, and was even scooted up to the table.
Sungyeol reached across the table and handed Sungjong a thin package. Sungjong held it in confusion. "What's...this?"
"I know it's early," Sungyeol said. "But I wanted you to have it, now. And I'm sorry about earlier..." He gave Sungjong a sad smile that made his heart ache. "It's okay, hyung, you don't have to be sorry..."
"Well... I... hey, just open that, will ya?"
Sungjong unwrapped the paper, revealing a set of chopsticks in a protective case. He popped the lid open and took one out, twirling it in his fingers. They were rather beautiful, for chopsticks. Then a gold detail in them caught the light. He tilted it up, viewing it from a different angle. Sungyeol had got them engraved. They read: 'Sung Brothers 4 Ever.'
Sungjong looked at Sungyeol, who gave him a goofy smile and a shrug. "Kinda silly, I know, but..."
"I love them. I am using them right now and forever more, until you have to buy me a new pair."
Sungyeol beamed.
Woohyun loudly announced that if Sungjong didn't start eating, then he was going to, no matter if Sungjong was the guest of honor or not. Sungjong mock-glared at him and picked up a sliver of fishcake with his new chopsticks, popping it in his mouth.
Dinner began, and hours melted into each other and laughter filled the dorm until they could almost feel it around them like a warm glow. Yeah, the hyungs were obviously pampering him, but it wasn't forced, wasn't awkward. He could tell the affection came straight from their hearts and was finally being broadcast to him; who knows what happened to them the rest of the year that kept them from showing it so openly. It was too bad. He could really get used to being treated like a queen.
At one point he turned to gaze at their tree. He looked at the angel at the top, with her blonde curls and gauzy dress. By Christmas day, you're going to be the only one with Christmas wings, Sungjong predicted. He was right.
***
Neither Dongwoo or L ever really spoke to him about the wings, again. But there were nights when L would lay awake, tracing patterns on Sungjong's naked back, patterns that felt suspiciously like the sweep of wings.
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Christmas Wings
Pairing/Focus: Implied LxSungjong
Rating: PG
Word count: 2253
Summary: Sungjong gets frustrated with his hyungs and comes down with a rare Christmas malady. Luckily, the ones that caused his symptoms may also be the cure.
"No, we're not using a Transformer for a tree-topper," Sungjong growled, fists perched on his hips as he glared up at Sungyeol, who was holding the toy threateningly over the tip of the fake Christmas tree.
"Aw, come on! Let's vote on it!"
"No!"
"I like it!" Hoya said brightly. Sungjong twisted around and rolled his eyes at him.
Sungyeol cackled wildly and plucked off the beautiful angel from her roost at the peak of the tree, then tried to jam the Transformer down so it would stay.
L sighed. He hated Infinite's petty arguments. He was pretty sure Sungyeol was doing this just to rile the maknae up, anyway. That big goof could care less if his Transformer figure made it on the tree or not; but it would devastate the youngest.
Since they'd decided as a band to go all out and really dress up their dorm for Christmas, Sungjong had leaped on the task like a young (and male) Martha Stewart. He'd done beautiful work, so far. Frosted garland hung across the walls, cinammon candles glowed in every room, and strings of soft gold and silver lights arced across their living room ceiling like a sky of winter stars.
"Yah, stop baiting him, hyung!" L finally snapped, his voice and eyes forbiddingly stern.
Sungyeol shrank away from the tree, holding the Transformer reflexively to his chest. "I was just playing," he pouted, looking guilty. It just confirmed what L had thought: he hadn't cared that much, he was just trying to get a rise out of Sungjong. Hoya dutifully replaced the angel and followed Sungyeol's heels as he slunk away, chatting obliviously.
The maknae finally unclenched his fists and glanced at L. L had expected to see gratitude in his expression, maybe a determined little smile, but instead he saw that something had broken in Sungjong's spirit. His pinched mouth and wide, wet eyes made him look like he'd scream at the next person who touched him or talked to him.
L was so shocked that he stood frozen as Sungjong turned on his heel and walked quickly to he and Hoya's room, slamming the door harder than usual behind him.
"...It's not my turn with him," Sunggyu finally said from the couch, where he was working on his assigned task of stringing popcorn and cranberries onto thread. He didn't even look up.
Sungyeol, who'd watched pale-faced from the kitchen, started forward. "It's my fault, I shouldn't've-"
L waved a hand at him dismissively, still irritated at the older. "Don't bother."
***
The door was locked, of course. L knocked on it softly. "Let me in."
He wasn't sure what Sungjong's muffled response was, but it didn't sound positive.
L waited, listening; and when he didn't hear Sungjong moving, he sighed. "You know this is why we have a master-key now, right? Do you really want to be known as a tantrum-dol?"
Silence.
"I'll really do it. Anytime I mention you online, I'll refer to you as our tantrum-dol. And you'd never lose that nickname, not in a thousand years."
The door opened. Sungjong glared at him. L stared down into his eyes cooly, a faint smile on his lips. "I'm sorry. Can I come in?"
He saw a flash of fear in the maknae's face. His white fingers were trembling against he doorframe.
"What's wrong?"
Sungjong looked around suspiciously, then took hold of the hem of L's shirt and drew him in. He shut the door and locked it again.
L stared at him in concern. The maknae's face was a little flushed, and his fingers were still shaking.
"Don't... don't freak out, and go run and tell anyone, alright?" Sungjong began.
"I...won't."
The maknae took off his sweatshirt, and turned around. L fell back against the door, hand flying to his mouth, eyebrows clenched together in shock.
Sungjong looked at him over his shoulder. "They've been there for a couple days now. I think they're a bit bigger, today. That's why I've been wearing bulky sweatshirts everyday." The small wings, pale and tinged rose at the tips of the long feathers, flexed like spreading fingers.
"Oh, he's got Christmas wings!" Dongwoo said.
Both of them jumped at the new voice. Dongwoo sat up suddenly from where he'd been hidden, napping on the floor between Hoya's bed and the wall. He'd even been covered with a pile of coats, further camoflaging his presence.
"How long have you been in here?!" Sungjong hissed, jerking around and holding his shirt to his chest.
Dongwoo looked sorry. "I didn't mean to spy, but I was already in here, napping... I just woke up a minute ago."
"Why didn't you sound surprised at...at his wings?" L asked suspiciously, cutting through the brewing argument.
Dongwoo beamed his white teeth. "Oh, my mom used to get those every year, around this same time. Don't you know about the Christmas wings?"
L blinked, a feeling of unreality sweeping over his mind and making him feel dizzy. "What?"
"Yeah! Whenever someone gets really upset around Christmas, they might be blessed by the angel of Christmas! The wings are to remind you to relax, and remember that love is the true spirit of Christmas...and that kind of thing. But yeah, my mom got them all the time. And a few other people too, sometimes."
L and Sungjong could only stare. But when Dongwoo didn't stop that innocent smiling, L finally shook his head and ran his nails through his hair. "Oh my god, he's telling the truth."
Sungjong looked more scared then he had before. L noticed tears trembling at the edge of his eyes. He tugged the kid to him and wrapped his arms around him. He didn't know how he managed not to flip out when his fingers accidently brushed against a silky feather. He moved his hand away awkwardly, thankful that Sungjong didn't seem to notice.
"Well.... I'll just... go now..." Dongwoo coughed, scooting out of the room. His voice grew more and more quiet with each word. "Sorry. Byeee."
"Wait," L said.
"Huh?"
"How did your mother get rid of them?"
"Get rid of what?"
"... the wings, bonehead."
"Ohhhhh!"
L glared dangerously. He could feel Sungjong's nails tightening against his arms.
Dongwoo held up his hands, looking like a man about to fend off a lion attack. "You just gotta like... get into the Christmas spirit. It's like I said: love, and all that."
L looked away as he digested this. Dongwoo took his chance and hurried out, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible.
L sighed and gently led Sungjong over to his bed, setting him down on the edge. The maknae's head was downcast, his hands pressed to his eyes, his face. His shoulders shook a little here and there, and he uttered soft, fitful sounds as he cried. L put his hand on Sungjong's bare lower back, and slowly slid his fingers upward. He touched one of his wings, daringly this time. "Can you feel it when I touch a feather?" He murmured.
Sungjong paused, as if thinking about it; then slowly nodded.
L slid a finger in between two of the longest feathers, caressing their length. "What does it feel like?"
"Like... good," he sniffed wetly, taking a steadying breath as he got a hold of his emotions.
L's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Good like...what?"
Sungjong watched him from the corner of his large eyes.
God, he looks like a child. A beautiful child. L thought.
"Like... when a mom runs her fingers through your hair over and over."
"Ah. Should I keep doing it, then?"
"...yeah."
L smiled, even flashing a rare glimpse of teeth. "Lay down. I'll keep doing it until you fall asleep. You need a nap."
He was surprised when Sungjong obeyed, stretching out on his flat stomach like a cat.
"You've been working so hard, harder than all of us," L began, both hands engaged as he gently ruffled his feathers. "The house looks beautiful."
"No one cares!"
L's fingers faltered for a moment. "Yah, are you crazy?! Of course they care. We all love it. It makes us feel like we're at home again..."
Sungjong shrugged his shoulders angrily, though it was hard to do face-down in bed.
"Stop, don't move... Does it feel good if I touch them here?" He asked, sliding the pad of his thumb along the slightly pink skin from which the wings grew.
"...yes."
"Okay, just concentrate on that. No more angry thoughts, or they're never going to go away."
"..."
"But it's not true, you know. We appreciate everything you do for us, and you do it way better than any of us could do, anyway. We'd be lost without you."
"..."
"...you sleeping?"
"..."
"Goodnight, for a while."
***
Sungjong woke groggy, a few hours later. His head felt all clogged up and his vision was even blurry. That nap had done him little good.
The existence of his wings rushed back to him all of a sudden, like a blow. He craned back to touch them. They were smaller! Not gone, but definitely smaller! He pulled his sweatshirt on again. Yeah. Definitely smaller. The thick material didn't catch on them nearly as much.
His heart feeling lighter than it had for days, he padded down the hall. He only had half a second to register the long table in the living room, and the six members of Infinite crowded around it, before they screamed at him.
"Merry Christmas Eve's Eve!" They shouted. Someone, maybe multiple people, even threw up handfuls of glittering confetti made to look like snow.
"What's going on?" Sungjong was smiling despite himself, approaching the table and widening his eyes at what he saw there. If he were ever going to have a very last meal, a last feast on the day before he knew he'd die- it would be comprised of the food that was laid out on the table before him. There was sushi, chicken, an array of side-dishes, a tray of pastries- and many of them bore names from different restaurants, meaning there must have been a scavenger hunt across the city to procure all these things!
Sunggyu patted him on the back. "We wanted to thank you for always giving your all for us, Sungjonggie. And we're sorry for always giving you a hard time. It's hard for us hyungs, sometimes. You're just too cute, you know that?"
Sungjong blushed a little, his eyes wandering to the other Infinite members, all of whom were in agreement. L smiled at him calmly, betraying nothing. Suddenly, Sungjong noticed that the chair at the end of the table was empty. It was the highest chair, even hung with an extra length of garland on the back. Some of the most delectable dishes were gathered at that end of the table, circling the future diner's plate.
Dongwoo appeared behind him and marched him to that seat of honor, squeezing his shoulders comfortably. The way Dongwoo treated the knowledge of his wings like they were nothing made him want to burst into tears, again. It was a relief. He let himself be pushed numbly into the chair, and was even scooted up to the table.
Sungyeol reached across the table and handed Sungjong a thin package. Sungjong held it in confusion. "What's...this?"
"I know it's early," Sungyeol said. "But I wanted you to have it, now. And I'm sorry about earlier..." He gave Sungjong a sad smile that made his heart ache. "It's okay, hyung, you don't have to be sorry..."
"Well... I... hey, just open that, will ya?"
Sungjong unwrapped the paper, revealing a set of chopsticks in a protective case. He popped the lid open and took one out, twirling it in his fingers. They were rather beautiful, for chopsticks. Then a gold detail in them caught the light. He tilted it up, viewing it from a different angle. Sungyeol had got them engraved. They read: 'Sung Brothers 4 Ever.'
Sungjong looked at Sungyeol, who gave him a goofy smile and a shrug. "Kinda silly, I know, but..."
"I love them. I am using them right now and forever more, until you have to buy me a new pair."
Sungyeol beamed.
Woohyun loudly announced that if Sungjong didn't start eating, then he was going to, no matter if Sungjong was the guest of honor or not. Sungjong mock-glared at him and picked up a sliver of fishcake with his new chopsticks, popping it in his mouth.
Dinner began, and hours melted into each other and laughter filled the dorm until they could almost feel it around them like a warm glow. Yeah, the hyungs were obviously pampering him, but it wasn't forced, wasn't awkward. He could tell the affection came straight from their hearts and was finally being broadcast to him; who knows what happened to them the rest of the year that kept them from showing it so openly. It was too bad. He could really get used to being treated like a queen.
At one point he turned to gaze at their tree. He looked at the angel at the top, with her blonde curls and gauzy dress. By Christmas day, you're going to be the only one with Christmas wings, Sungjong predicted. He was right.
***
Neither Dongwoo or L ever really spoke to him about the wings, again. But there were nights when L would lay awake, tracing patterns on Sungjong's naked back, patterns that felt suspiciously like the sweep of wings.