ISS 2012: for penny_lane_42
Title: I’d Give You My Eyes
Pairing/Focus: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: PG
Word count: 1822 words
Summary: Myungsoo can’t help but hate Sungyeol, sometimes.
To: penny_lane_42
From: Your Secret Santa
Myungsoo knows the exact moment he fell for Sungyeol.
It's dumb, he knows, but Myungsoo keeps a calendar on his phone with all the important dates marked out with an ㅅ. For Sungyeol, for 사랑해.
Myungsoo will never show it to anyone. He’ll never even admit that he keeps this, relying on technology to remember what he doesn’t have room for in his head, no space in between lyrics and choreography and lines of a script that he hasn’t made a single mark on, except for the faint stamp of oil from his fingertips as he ran them along each line. Sungyeol’s scripts - when he gets them, and Myungsoo can’t help but feel guilt for appealing more - are an explosion of colour, motivation and understanding staining Sungyeol’s hands when a marker rolls astray. Myungsoo remembers the way Sungyeol’s hair had blown into this mouth, sticking to his lips. Sungyeol had grinned through his hair and brushed it back with a careful hand, doing his best not to mess up his make-up. Myungsoo remembers the sun glinting off Sungyeol’s earrings.
He remembers the moment perfectly, but the date eludes his mind. So he has to keep track in the same way his mother had kept track all through his childhood, drawing on the calendar in whatever pen she could find, making sure nothing would slip by unnoticed. Myungsoo has to make sure he remembers all of Sungyeol, because he’s not sure he’ll have him for as long as he wants.
»
Sometimes, Myungsoo's a little disappointed in Sungyeol. It's the fault of his own expectations. He spent so long building Sungyeol up in his mind, beautiful and [perfect], that when it comes to the real, human Sungyeol; well, he was always going to fall short. Not that-- Myungsoo's not ungrateful. He's so grateful, so glad that here is Sungyeol, in his arms and in his bed. It’s just taking Myungsoo a little bit of time to reaffirm reality with what’s been living in his head for years.
He couldn’t wish for Sungyeol to be different.
Maybe sometimes Myungsoo wishes that Sungyeol would let him hold on just a bit longer. Maybe Sungyeol could reach out and tangle their fingers together for once, or pull him close enough to kiss, instead of Myungsoo always always making that first move.
»
Sungyeol doesn’t exactly move with grace. It’s not that his arms and legs are too long; rather that he seems unaware of the limits of his body. Myungsoo knows Sungyeol’s body almost as well as his own. He could spend hours just running his hands over every line, every curve - if Sungyeol would hold for that. It’s not that Myungsoo begrudges him his energy. But Myungsoo can hold a tiny kernel of resentment, deep in his stomach where the flames of his passions can’t reach; just a tiny bit of anger towards such a thing.
Sungyeol sleeps restlessly. Myungsoo knows that if Sungyeol would just let Myungsoo wrap Sungyeol up in his arms, then Sungyeol would sleep the night through, still and silent. But Sungyeol complains of the heat of his body and the weight of his arms. So Myungsoo endures the kicks and mutterings. He’d go through a lot worse. He tries to tell Sungyeol that once. But Sungyeol shakes his head at him, tells him “Sleep in your own bed. It’s just easier, okay?” and he’d turned away before Myungsoo could argue that he didn’t want easier.
»
September, traces of cold beginning to collect in their lungs. This is when Myungsoo is first able to confess. He trips over his tongue. Sungyeol waits with a patience Myungsoo hadn’t realised he had possessed. Calm and quiet and Myungsoo half-wishes he’d interrupt, say something, stop Myungsoo from struggling along. Sungyeol makes Myungsoo do it on his own. It’s a tie in Myungsoo whether he feels grateful or bitter. He’s grateful, in the end, in every way, for Sungyeol’s final move, a brush of their lips and a laugh that’s mostly breath, the sound of it forever after etched into Myungsoo’s marrow. Myungsoo’s so so thankful for Sungyeol in every way.
»
Myungsoo doesn’t sleep a lot. It's difficult, he thinks, to spend time sleeping when he could be spending it mapping the veins under Sungyeol’s skin. Sungyeol's a fan of sleep, though. Myungsoo lies awake in the bunk nearby and memorises the layout of Sungyeol’s body, the path Myungsoo’s hands will take when he next can touch. It isn’t so often that Myungsoo gets the time to explore Sungyeol’s body - long leisurely hours not wasted, because Myungsoo can't say time spent with Sungyeol is wasted. Myungsoo sometimes can’t breathe for want when he looks at Sungyeol, stretched out over the bed or shirtless brushing his teeth, because he always drips toothpaste in his furious brushing. Myungsoo hands him a shirt and watches the stretch and play of the muscles in Sungyeol’s back as he puts it on. "Thanks." Sungyeol says, and Myungsoo holds the shy smile forefront in his mind all through the day.
»
The moments before they go onstage are the worst. Myungsoo doesn’t think he'll ever get used to the almost sick feeling of anticipation. Sunggyu gives them all a distracted smile and Myungsoo keeps his hands by his sides because touching Sungyeol now would be counterproductive. Dongwoo pushes their shoulders together as the sounds of applause for the previous group scatter out. Myungsoo takes comfort from it, and from the thought that afterwards, he’ll be able to touch again. Not too much, because there’s always people watching and not all of them do it with sweet intentions; but maybe Sungyeol will let Myungsoo take his jacket, allow him to run the palms of his hands down over Sungyeol’s arms as he does. It’s looking forward to that that’s the only reason Myungsoo ever wishes they have to leave the stage.
»
Sungyeol very rarely initiates anything. He knew this before they ever got together, but it doesn’t make it any easier for Myungsoo to swallow down insecurity. Myungsoo's always used touch as an indicator of affection. He can't help it. Myungsoo's tried hard to keep his hands to himself, stuffed in his pockets and away from anyone else, but they find themselves out on skin, and Myungsoo doesn't notice the difference in texture, the inside of his pocket to flesh, until the owner of the body moves. Myungsoo has never been very good at noticing things outside the scope of his own interests.
Sungyeol is most definitely one of Myungsoo's interests.
»
It's hard to say whether they've lived all their lives like this or if this is just a moment, caught by Myungsoo's mind and amplified until it encompasses all. Myungsoo hopes. He hopes that this is how they’ll always be, pressed close together with the sounds of the other members trickling over them like they’re behind a wall of glass. Myungsoo reaches out a hand and smooths it over Sungyeol's cheek before remembering how last time Sungyeol had flinched away. But whether it's the alcohol or affection, Sungyeol leans into it, his eyelids lowering like he's got a secret.
Myungsoo thinks Sungyeol has many secrets, and for once, he doesn't want to know them all. Some part of Sungyeol should remain a mystery. Because then it will be okay for Myungsoo to keep secrets, to keep Sungyeol wondering and guessing and maybe if Sungyeol's caught up in that he'll never get bored, and he'll never want to leave. Myungsoo can do that. He can keep a part of himself hidden even if he wants to be nothing more than an open book for Sungyeol, one that Sungyeol comes back to time and again, flicking through it until he finds his favourite parts, curling up and reading until he gets a crick in his neck.
Myungsoo thinks maybe he's drunk but he knows the effect alcohol has on him and lowering inhibitions aren't a reason for the opening floodgates in his mind. So long as he keeps his mouth shut. That's all Myungsoo has to do. Sungyeol can talk for them, so Myungsoo presses his faces against Sungyeol's shoulder and breaths in the smell of him and his jacket, scratching against his face and in his lungs like cigarette smoke.
»
Sometimes Myungsoo forgets what he looks like. He knows that other people find him attractive, that other people think of his face as the epitome of Myungsoo's talent, the reason for him to be here. But sometimes Myungsoo walks past a mirror and stops and stares because there's a moment of disconnect. He knows he's got eyes and a nose and teeth, but the person in the mirror has teeth and a nose and eyes don't match up with the picture of himself Myungsoo carries around in his head.
When he’s with Sungyeol, Myungsoo tends to forget he has a body. He gets so caught up realising Sungyeol’s body that his own is relegated to the back of his mind, noticed only when it comes into contact with Sungyeol’s: the brush of their arms, their ankles looped, the exposed strip of skin of Sungyeol’s back when his shirt rides up and Myungsoo takes advantage and reaches out.
»
Myungsoo likes Sungyeol’s voice. It kills him a little, just drags him down inside, that Sungyeol doesn’t. Myungsoo’s never really felt unconfident in matters of his voice, his looks. He wishes he could give that to Sungyeol; something that would help more than an encouraging word, a smile or a touch. Myungsoo lets Sungyeol brush him off when he’s not okay. When Sungyeol curls into himself and his smile isn’t backed up by his eyes, Myungsoo backs off, because even if he’s the sort of person who craves companionship in the down time, he knows Sungyeol is not.
»
Myungsoo realises it’s not entirely healthy, the way he wants to crawl inside Sungyeol’s head and make sure he’s never thinking of anything else but Myungsoo, because that’s what Sungyeol’s done to him, but it’s not like he can just stop. But he tries to take a step back.
He thinks Sungyeol appreciates that. He thinks, because it’s not as if Sungyeol actually comes out and says, ‘hey, thanks for not being so intense’ but Myungsoo hasn’t spent years learning Sungyeol to miss the way he reciprocates easier now.
It’s all about compromise. Myungsoo knows this from watching his parents, from watching perfect relationships play out across his tv screen. It’s hard to remember, sometimes, when all Myungsoo wants is Sungyeol with no holds barred, no limits placed. But he’s learning now, how to make this work. And it’s not hard at all, when Sungyeol’s smiling at him or sleeping on his shoulder in the van with his mouth open and his breath too hot and heavy through Myungsoo’s shirt. It’s not at all hard.
Pairing/Focus: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: PG
Word count: 1822 words
Summary: Myungsoo can’t help but hate Sungyeol, sometimes.
To: penny_lane_42
From: Your Secret Santa
Myungsoo knows the exact moment he fell for Sungyeol.
It's dumb, he knows, but Myungsoo keeps a calendar on his phone with all the important dates marked out with an ㅅ. For Sungyeol, for 사랑해.
Myungsoo will never show it to anyone. He’ll never even admit that he keeps this, relying on technology to remember what he doesn’t have room for in his head, no space in between lyrics and choreography and lines of a script that he hasn’t made a single mark on, except for the faint stamp of oil from his fingertips as he ran them along each line. Sungyeol’s scripts - when he gets them, and Myungsoo can’t help but feel guilt for appealing more - are an explosion of colour, motivation and understanding staining Sungyeol’s hands when a marker rolls astray. Myungsoo remembers the way Sungyeol’s hair had blown into this mouth, sticking to his lips. Sungyeol had grinned through his hair and brushed it back with a careful hand, doing his best not to mess up his make-up. Myungsoo remembers the sun glinting off Sungyeol’s earrings.
He remembers the moment perfectly, but the date eludes his mind. So he has to keep track in the same way his mother had kept track all through his childhood, drawing on the calendar in whatever pen she could find, making sure nothing would slip by unnoticed. Myungsoo has to make sure he remembers all of Sungyeol, because he’s not sure he’ll have him for as long as he wants.
»
Sometimes, Myungsoo's a little disappointed in Sungyeol. It's the fault of his own expectations. He spent so long building Sungyeol up in his mind, beautiful and [perfect], that when it comes to the real, human Sungyeol; well, he was always going to fall short. Not that-- Myungsoo's not ungrateful. He's so grateful, so glad that here is Sungyeol, in his arms and in his bed. It’s just taking Myungsoo a little bit of time to reaffirm reality with what’s been living in his head for years.
He couldn’t wish for Sungyeol to be different.
Maybe sometimes Myungsoo wishes that Sungyeol would let him hold on just a bit longer. Maybe Sungyeol could reach out and tangle their fingers together for once, or pull him close enough to kiss, instead of Myungsoo always always making that first move.
»
Sungyeol doesn’t exactly move with grace. It’s not that his arms and legs are too long; rather that he seems unaware of the limits of his body. Myungsoo knows Sungyeol’s body almost as well as his own. He could spend hours just running his hands over every line, every curve - if Sungyeol would hold for that. It’s not that Myungsoo begrudges him his energy. But Myungsoo can hold a tiny kernel of resentment, deep in his stomach where the flames of his passions can’t reach; just a tiny bit of anger towards such a thing.
Sungyeol sleeps restlessly. Myungsoo knows that if Sungyeol would just let Myungsoo wrap Sungyeol up in his arms, then Sungyeol would sleep the night through, still and silent. But Sungyeol complains of the heat of his body and the weight of his arms. So Myungsoo endures the kicks and mutterings. He’d go through a lot worse. He tries to tell Sungyeol that once. But Sungyeol shakes his head at him, tells him “Sleep in your own bed. It’s just easier, okay?” and he’d turned away before Myungsoo could argue that he didn’t want easier.
»
September, traces of cold beginning to collect in their lungs. This is when Myungsoo is first able to confess. He trips over his tongue. Sungyeol waits with a patience Myungsoo hadn’t realised he had possessed. Calm and quiet and Myungsoo half-wishes he’d interrupt, say something, stop Myungsoo from struggling along. Sungyeol makes Myungsoo do it on his own. It’s a tie in Myungsoo whether he feels grateful or bitter. He’s grateful, in the end, in every way, for Sungyeol’s final move, a brush of their lips and a laugh that’s mostly breath, the sound of it forever after etched into Myungsoo’s marrow. Myungsoo’s so so thankful for Sungyeol in every way.
»
Myungsoo doesn’t sleep a lot. It's difficult, he thinks, to spend time sleeping when he could be spending it mapping the veins under Sungyeol’s skin. Sungyeol's a fan of sleep, though. Myungsoo lies awake in the bunk nearby and memorises the layout of Sungyeol’s body, the path Myungsoo’s hands will take when he next can touch. It isn’t so often that Myungsoo gets the time to explore Sungyeol’s body - long leisurely hours not wasted, because Myungsoo can't say time spent with Sungyeol is wasted. Myungsoo sometimes can’t breathe for want when he looks at Sungyeol, stretched out over the bed or shirtless brushing his teeth, because he always drips toothpaste in his furious brushing. Myungsoo hands him a shirt and watches the stretch and play of the muscles in Sungyeol’s back as he puts it on. "Thanks." Sungyeol says, and Myungsoo holds the shy smile forefront in his mind all through the day.
»
The moments before they go onstage are the worst. Myungsoo doesn’t think he'll ever get used to the almost sick feeling of anticipation. Sunggyu gives them all a distracted smile and Myungsoo keeps his hands by his sides because touching Sungyeol now would be counterproductive. Dongwoo pushes their shoulders together as the sounds of applause for the previous group scatter out. Myungsoo takes comfort from it, and from the thought that afterwards, he’ll be able to touch again. Not too much, because there’s always people watching and not all of them do it with sweet intentions; but maybe Sungyeol will let Myungsoo take his jacket, allow him to run the palms of his hands down over Sungyeol’s arms as he does. It’s looking forward to that that’s the only reason Myungsoo ever wishes they have to leave the stage.
»
Sungyeol very rarely initiates anything. He knew this before they ever got together, but it doesn’t make it any easier for Myungsoo to swallow down insecurity. Myungsoo's always used touch as an indicator of affection. He can't help it. Myungsoo's tried hard to keep his hands to himself, stuffed in his pockets and away from anyone else, but they find themselves out on skin, and Myungsoo doesn't notice the difference in texture, the inside of his pocket to flesh, until the owner of the body moves. Myungsoo has never been very good at noticing things outside the scope of his own interests.
Sungyeol is most definitely one of Myungsoo's interests.
»
It's hard to say whether they've lived all their lives like this or if this is just a moment, caught by Myungsoo's mind and amplified until it encompasses all. Myungsoo hopes. He hopes that this is how they’ll always be, pressed close together with the sounds of the other members trickling over them like they’re behind a wall of glass. Myungsoo reaches out a hand and smooths it over Sungyeol's cheek before remembering how last time Sungyeol had flinched away. But whether it's the alcohol or affection, Sungyeol leans into it, his eyelids lowering like he's got a secret.
Myungsoo thinks Sungyeol has many secrets, and for once, he doesn't want to know them all. Some part of Sungyeol should remain a mystery. Because then it will be okay for Myungsoo to keep secrets, to keep Sungyeol wondering and guessing and maybe if Sungyeol's caught up in that he'll never get bored, and he'll never want to leave. Myungsoo can do that. He can keep a part of himself hidden even if he wants to be nothing more than an open book for Sungyeol, one that Sungyeol comes back to time and again, flicking through it until he finds his favourite parts, curling up and reading until he gets a crick in his neck.
Myungsoo thinks maybe he's drunk but he knows the effect alcohol has on him and lowering inhibitions aren't a reason for the opening floodgates in his mind. So long as he keeps his mouth shut. That's all Myungsoo has to do. Sungyeol can talk for them, so Myungsoo presses his faces against Sungyeol's shoulder and breaths in the smell of him and his jacket, scratching against his face and in his lungs like cigarette smoke.
»
Sometimes Myungsoo forgets what he looks like. He knows that other people find him attractive, that other people think of his face as the epitome of Myungsoo's talent, the reason for him to be here. But sometimes Myungsoo walks past a mirror and stops and stares because there's a moment of disconnect. He knows he's got eyes and a nose and teeth, but the person in the mirror has teeth and a nose and eyes don't match up with the picture of himself Myungsoo carries around in his head.
When he’s with Sungyeol, Myungsoo tends to forget he has a body. He gets so caught up realising Sungyeol’s body that his own is relegated to the back of his mind, noticed only when it comes into contact with Sungyeol’s: the brush of their arms, their ankles looped, the exposed strip of skin of Sungyeol’s back when his shirt rides up and Myungsoo takes advantage and reaches out.
»
Myungsoo likes Sungyeol’s voice. It kills him a little, just drags him down inside, that Sungyeol doesn’t. Myungsoo’s never really felt unconfident in matters of his voice, his looks. He wishes he could give that to Sungyeol; something that would help more than an encouraging word, a smile or a touch. Myungsoo lets Sungyeol brush him off when he’s not okay. When Sungyeol curls into himself and his smile isn’t backed up by his eyes, Myungsoo backs off, because even if he’s the sort of person who craves companionship in the down time, he knows Sungyeol is not.
»
Myungsoo realises it’s not entirely healthy, the way he wants to crawl inside Sungyeol’s head and make sure he’s never thinking of anything else but Myungsoo, because that’s what Sungyeol’s done to him, but it’s not like he can just stop. But he tries to take a step back.
He thinks Sungyeol appreciates that. He thinks, because it’s not as if Sungyeol actually comes out and says, ‘hey, thanks for not being so intense’ but Myungsoo hasn’t spent years learning Sungyeol to miss the way he reciprocates easier now.
It’s all about compromise. Myungsoo knows this from watching his parents, from watching perfect relationships play out across his tv screen. It’s hard to remember, sometimes, when all Myungsoo wants is Sungyeol with no holds barred, no limits placed. But he’s learning now, how to make this work. And it’s not hard at all, when Sungyeol’s smiling at him or sleeping on his shoulder in the van with his mouth open and his breath too hot and heavy through Myungsoo’s shirt. It’s not at all hard.