(fic)
꼭 깨져봐야 아픈 줄 알지
(you only find out that it hurts after it's already broken.)
sunggyu, dongwoo and woohyun in every permutation | nc-17 | part 4 of 9
Sunggyu is equal parts stubborn and incredibly forgiving, and the way he touches Woohyun is somewhere between the two. He gets Woohyun on his hands and knees and fingers him slow and deep, thorough, pressing his fingers into Woohyun's body in even thrusts that make Woohyun feel like his entire body is going to shake apart. Sunggyu has long fingers, musician's fingers, and they press up against the sensitive insides of him with a kind of unrelenting gentleness that Woohyun doesn't know how to handle. He's never known Sunggyu as a lover, only as a leader-he doesn't know what to do with this.
"Fuck, Sunggyu," he gasps, almost incoherent as Sunggyu crooks the tip of one finger to catch against the stretched and tender rim of his entrance. "Why are you being like this? Just-come on, hyung-"
Sunggyu doesn't say anything, and Woohyun supposes he doesn't have to. This isn't about romance-it's about control. It's about Sunggyu proving that he still has a grip on something, even if he can't make sense of anything else-even if their entire lives are falling apart, Sunggyu can still reduce Woohyun to gasps and sobs with nothing more than his fingers.
That's fine. If that's what Sunggyu needs, then that's what Woohyun will be. He's always been Sunggyu's tool.
When Sunggyu fucks him, finally, it's with too little preparation and not quite enough lube, and it hurts. It's sharp-clawed pressure forcing Woohyun open, and he drops to his elbows, pressing his face into the pillow to stifle a moan that's not entirely pleasure. He's done this before, used to live a life where sex was a tool for survival, but like this it feels like the very first time-Sunggyu's hands come to rest on his hips, strangely reassuring even as he eases deeper with sharp, minute thrusts that make Woohyun feel like his head is about to explode.
One of Sunggyu's hands shifts, traces an absent pattern down Woohyun's spine. Woohyun can't see anything but the fabric of Sunggyu's pillow, but he can read the gesture for what it is-questioning, vague apology. Asking if Woohyun is okay, not that it matters.
"It's fine," Woohyun says, turning his head to the side. He arches his back, presses his hips back towards Sunggyu until they're pressed flush together. "It's fine. Move."
The first few thrusts are painful, unpleasant, make Woohyun bite down to stifle his whimpers against the pillow. It's been too long since he did this-there was a time when he could take it with no preparation and spit only, but that was a long time ago, in a different lifetime, and now a particularly forceful thrust makes Woohyun gasp and bite his lip. But Sunggyu, for all that he can be selfish and demanding, is not cruel-he shifts a little, pulling Woohyun with him, and when he thrusts again his cock presses straight up against Woohyun's prostate. It's like a lightning bolt to the brain, the sizzle of almost-uncomfortable pleasure shooting through his nervous system, and Woohyun moans aloud, arching his back, his fingers tightening in the sheets. "Again," he says-he's always been mouthy in bed, and old habits die hard-and Sunggyu obeys, until Woohyun is panting, until he's hard again, lightheaded and incoherent.
There's too much sensation inside of him and nowhere for it to go. When Sunggyu sits back, pulling Woohyun up with him to sit spread across his legs, Woohyun goes easily-he's fucked-out already, all raw nerves and desperate sensation-chasing. The change in position forces Sunggyu deeper, and Woohyun moans his name, tilting his head back until it comes to rest on Sunggyu's shoulder.
"Shut up," Sunggyu says. It's the first thing he's said since he pinned Woohyun to the bed and kissed him, and the way his voice sounds-raw and heavy and dark-makes Woohyun shudder. "You're so loud, someone will hear you."
Woohyun knows what Sunggyu's not saying-that 'someone' means 'Dongwoo' and that even here, even when they're like this, Woohyun still isn't on the front of Sunggyu's mind. It stings a little, but it's not like Woohyun had been expecting anything else, so he doesn't say anything, just bites his lip and rolls his hips down to meet Sunggyu's.
Sunggyu presses one of his palms flat against Woohyun's lower stomach, hard, and holds it there, and that's what undoes Woohyun in the end. The simplicity of that touch, and the possession it implies-Woohyun gasps and shudders and comes, untouched, all over his thighs and Sunggyu's.
"You've always been so easy," Sunggyu mumbles, so softly Woohyun almost thinks he's imagined it.
And then he pushes Woohyun back down, onto his hands and knees, and fucks him through the aftershocks until Woohyun is oversensitive and raw, whimpering with each thrust. He feels stretched open and sore, every thrust like a miniature earthquake rocking him to his core, and when he feels Sunggyu shudder and feels the hot rush of Sunggyu's come inside him, any regret Woohyun feels is drowned out by relief.
Sunggyu pulls out slowly-torturously slowly-and as soon as he moves back, Woohyun all but collapses, ignoring the mess on his thighs in favor of pressing his face into the pillow and trying to catch his breath. It's like his body has been shaken apart and put back together again, but not quite the same, like there are hairline fractures on his insides-overwhelming, but in a good way. He doesn't realize he's trembling until Sunggyu pulls at his shoulder, rolling him onto his back, and asks, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Woohyun says, looking up at Sunggyu's face-he wants to memorize it, how Sunggyu looks right now, sweaty and exhausted and beautiful, because this is both the first and last time he'll see it. "Sore, exhausted. I feel good."
It's not a lie, but Sunggyu studies him for a long moment, as though he's trying to gauge the truth of Woohyun's words, then nods slowly. "Okay," he says, leaning down to press a soft and startlingly tender kiss against Woohyun's forehead. "You can sleep here, tonight."
It's somehow more than Woohyun was expecting. He shifts again, and watches as Sunggyu kicks the dirty blanket to the floor and pulls the sheet up over them. "I can sleep on the floor," Woohyun begins, but Sunggyu just rolls his eyes.
"Don't be an idiot," he says, stretching out and absently sliding an arm over Woohyun's stomach, holding him still.
Woohyun wonders, for a moment, if this is how Sunggyu used to hold Dongwoo after they'd had sex-if he was this casually possessive, this gentle, if he made Dongwoo feel as secure in his bed as Woohyun feels right now. It goes against everything Woohyun knows to be true, everything he thinks is a good idea, but he lets himself relax a little, lulled by the rhythm of Sunggyu's breathing next to him.
"I'll clean your sheets," he mumbles. Sunggyu's thumb brushes absently over his lowermost rib. "I probably owe you that much."
A pause. "Stop thinking of everything in terms of what you owe me," Sunggyu replies, his voice muffled by the pillow and Woohyun's shoulder. "Just sleep. Stop worrying and sleep."
Woohyun wakes up in the middle of the night, and finds Sunggyu sitting at the desk. He's wearing nothing but the light from his computer and a concentrated look, his eyes tracking lines of code across the screen. Woohyun knows that expression-he's as familiar with the line between Sunggyu's brows as he is with the way Sunggyu breathes, by now.
He sits up, tugs the sheets up around his waist. "What are you doing?"
"Thinking," Sunggyu replies absently. Several keystrokes, and an extended silence, before finally: "I'm trying to figure out what to do."
The distance between them, for a moment, seems indescribably huge. Woohyun looks at Sunggyu in the dimness of the room, and he feels like the space between them is as wide as the universe. This is a part of Sunggyu he will never truly understand. "About what?" he asks-hates that he has to ask. These are things that Dongwoo would have known. "Are you still thinking about what I said to you earlier?"
"Among other things."
They're silent again for a long moment. Woohyun doesn't know what to do with this, these half-answers Sunggyu gives him. He feels like he should be able to understand them, but he can't reach into the layers of hidden meaning between Sunggyu's words and tease them apart. "Okay," Woohyun finally says. He falls back onto the mattress, tucks one hand under his head. He has knots in his lower back, and he's sore between his legs, a steady throbbing burn reminding him of why he's here right now. "Are you coming back to bed?"
The question makes Sunggyu pause. He glances over at Woohyun, studies him for a moment. There's a peculiar look in his eyes-the same look he has when he's trying to figure out a particularly complex problem that keeps evading his grasp. "Yeah," Sunggyu says finally, and turns back to his monitor long enough to shut it down. "Sorry I woke you up."
"It's fine." Woohyun moves over on the bed to make room for Sunggyu, space he'd occupied in Sunggyu's absence. "I'm kind of used to it anyway."
It's supposed to be a joke, but it falls flat in the awkward atmosphere between them. Sunggyu props his head up on one hand and looks at Woohyun for a long moment, the same speculative look he'd just given. "Why?" Woohyun asks, perhaps a little demandingly. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Sunggyu says, shaking his head and smiling, just a little. "Go to sleep, Woohyun."
Annoyed, Woohyun rolls away, but Sunggyu just presses up behind him. It's invasive, in all the ways Woohyun likes but won't admit to. Sunggyu's chest is warm and solid against Woohyun's back, and Sunggyu drapes his arm over Woohyun's side, presses his palm flat against Woohyun's solar plexus. It's almost comforting, in a way that's rare for them, so Woohyun closes his eyes, relaxes, and sleeps.
Woohyun sneaks out of Sunggyu's bedroom before Sunggyu wakes up and changes his clothes, and when he comes out into the living room, Dongwoo is sitting on the couch, looking pensive.
It's not really like Woohyun is surprised. They hadn't been quiet-or rather, he hadn't been quiet, and he should have known better than to think Dongwoo wouldn't hear the way he'd been moaning. But in the heat of the moment, it's easy to forget, and now, when Dongwoo looks up and meets Woohyun's eyes, Woohyun can't believe he'd been that careless.
"Hi," Dongwoo says. He smiles, and it's not fake, but it's smaller than his usual smile, and his voice is softer. "Did you sleep well?"
Maybe Dongwoo doesn't mean for the words to be a barb, but they feel like one. "Yeah," Woohyun says, swallowing hard and glancing down at his hands. "You?"
"Fine."
Part of Woohyun thinks he should say something. Something like, I'm sorry, or maybe Even when he was fucking me he was thinking of you, didn't you know? Something, anything, to tell Dongwoo that it's not what it looks like-that it's not Woohyun taking this as an opportunity. But then again, in some ways, isn't it? He would never have touched Sunggyu if he and Dongwoo were still together-but with Dongwoo asleep on the couch, he had hardly hesitated before falling into Sunggyu's bed. Even if he is sorry, even if Sunggyu had been thinking of Dongwoo instead, does that really make what he's done any better?
"Do you want breakfast?" Woohyun finally asks, the words coming out choked by all the other things that he should say, but can't. "Are you hungry?"
Dongwoo shrugs a little, thumbing absently at a spot on the cushion. "I'm not really hungry," he says-apologetic, but not very. "Thanks anyway."
Woohyun imagines he wouldn't be very hungry, either, if he were in Dongwoo's shoes.
"Okay," Woohyun says, curling his fingers into fists, fingernails digging into his palms. A point to focus on, to keep himself grounded. "Hyung, I-"
And Hoya chooses that moment to emerge into the living room, hair damp and towel slung over his shoulders. He glances between the two of them-Dongwoo, tense and uncomfortable on the couch, and Woohyun, tense and uncomfortable in the middle of the room. "Is something weird going on in here?" he asks, straightforward as always. "Should I leave?"
"No!" Dongwoo stands up, dusts his hands off on his pants. "No, it's fine. Woohyun's making breakfast."
Hoya gives Dongwoo a skeptical look, then fixes his gaze on Woohyun. "…All right," he says, because Hoya has never been the type to push things like this. "I'll help, if you want."
"Sure," Woohyun says, but he's not really listening-he watches as Dongwoo makes his escape, and knows that he's the lowest of the low but can't figure out what to do about it. It's Woohyun's life, they're Woohyun's choices, but they feel more out of his hands than anything has in a long, long time.
Sunggyu and Dongwoo stop talking, after that.
The distance between them, the sleeping on the couch-that's one thing. Understandable, in the context of their complicated and tangled relationship. But the absence of even words between them is unthinkable, because Dongwoo has always been the one who understands Sunggyu better than anyone else-Dongwoo has always been the one who knows exactly what to say to get Sunggyu to calm down, or to laugh, or to relax. But now there is none of that-now there is only silence, and Dongwoo barely looks at Sunggyu, doesn't touch him or laugh with him or murmur to him when he thinks no one's watching.
Woohyun knows it's his fault. He knows that his lack of self-control is what drove the rift deeper, but he doesn't know how to fix it.
It's just-Woohyun loves Sunggyu, and he loves Dongwoo, too, but he would rather them be together and happy than have either of them for his own. Woohyun can be selfish, brutally so, but not in this-not when he can so clearly see how this is hurting both of the people he loves the most.
Days pass. Weeks pass, too, and Woohyun finally gets Dongwoo alone, when Sunggyu is out of the apartment to deliver something he'd been fixing for a client.
"Hyung," Woohyun says. Dongwoo is sitting on the floor of the living room, field stripping a pistol-unloaded, of course, and there are no bullets nearby. They've long since learned to hide their ammunition. But his motions are as fluid as they've ever been as he disengages the slide, removes the guide rod. "Do you have a second?"
"Sure," Dongwoo says. He glances up at Woohyun and smiles, and it hits Woohyun like a punch in the solar plexus-Dongwoo has always been far too forgiving. "Take a seat, what's up?"
Slowly, Woohyun settles down next to Dongwoo, leaning back against the couch and watching the way Dongwoo's fingers hold the gun. "I think we need to talk," he says softly, closing his eyes for a moment. "About-everything. You and hyung. …Me and hyung."
A long, pregnant pause. With his eyes closed, the clicks and slides of Dongwoo dismantling the pistol seem even louder in the silence. "Do we need to talk about it?" Dongwoo finally asks, and Woohyun opens his eyes to see Dongwoo set the gun down. "I thought we were doing fine not talking about it."
"We're not doing fine," Woohyun says. "You know we're not."
Another pause. "No," Dongwoo agrees. "I guess we're not."
"It's just," and Woohyun has no idea what he's trying to say, really, he just knows it needs to be said, "that you and Sunggyu are-perfect together, hyung. Before-all of this. You're the only person who's ever been able to understand him, or-get him to listen when someone says something he doesn't like. You're the only one who's ever been able to convince him to go to bed or eat or relax for a minute-even when he's stressed and snapping at everyone for nothing."
There's tension in the line of Dongwoo's back. "So?" he says. He's not quite looking at Woohyun. "I don't know if you've noticed, Woohyun-ah-I can't do that anymore."
"You can," Woohyun says. "You can, hyung-you still do. He's so in love with you it hurts to watch."
That hurts to say, too, but Woohyun would rather be honest.
"He slept with you," Dongwoo points out. He doesn't say it to be cruel, and there's no malice in his tone, but the words still cut Woohyun like wires. "I don't think I'd exactly say he's grieving over me."
"He slept with me and thought of you the whole time," Woohyun says. "It's always been you-stop being so stupid, hyung, you have to know it's always been you. Even if I'm-"
Even if I'm in love with him. Even if I'm willing to give him anything. No, that's not what he wants to say.
"I'm sorry," Woohyun says instead, tilting his head back against the cushion of the couch. The back of his throat feels hot, and he swallows hard against it, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry I slept with him. I messed up really bad, hyung, I know-I'm selfish, I've always been selfish. I just took what I wanted and didn't-but even if you can't forgive me, please forgive him. You're better for him than anything, hyung."
When he opens his eyes, Dongwoo is watching him, his elbow braced against the couch cushion and his cheek resting in his hand. "Selfish?" he says, smiling a little as he studies Woohyun's face. "You're so dumb sometimes, Woohyun-ah."
"What?"
"You're not selfish." Dongwoo reaches out, drags his knuckles idly down the side of Woohyun's face, the same kind of unexpectedly gentle touch that he's so recently learned to give and receive. "You're one of the least selfish men I know."
There's no explanation for why that stings, or why Woohyun's eyes prickle at the words. "Don't say that, hyung," he says, though he refuses to turn his face away from Dongwoo's hand. "I know I am. I'm not-it's not like I'm just saying it to make you compliment me, I'm just realistic, you know? I have shortcomings, I move too much in my sleep and I'm selfish and I want things I can't have."
This isn't how Woohyun expected this conversation to go.
"You're an idiot," Dongwoo says again. And then he laughs, softly but genuinely, his eyes brighter than Woohyun has seen them in a long time. "Who told you that you're selfish? You take care of all of us and you never ask for anything, even when you're hurting. -Don't tell me you're not, I might be messed up in the brain but I'm not stupid."
Woohyun closes his mouth, swallows down the protest he'd been on the verge of making. "Hyung," he says, his voice embarrassingly soft. "You have to stop being so nice to me."
"Why should I?" Dongwoo opens his hand, presses his palm flat against the edge of Woohyun's jaw. Woohyun, against his better judgment, turns his face into the touch, and Dongwoo's expression softens. "Forgive you? Idiot Nam Woohyun, there was never anything to forgive you for."
"Don't tell me this had nothing to do with me," Woohyun says quietly. "I know it did."
Dongwoo shakes his head. "I won't tell you it had nothing to do with you," he says. "It did. Just not in the way you're imagining, I think." He brushes his thumb absently over Woohyun's cheekbone, studying his face for a long moment-Woohyun feels strangely like he's being laid bare, like all his insides are visible to the naked eye. All of the secrets he keeps written under his skin, translated into a language for Dongwoo to understand. "I'm going to do something stupid, okay?"
"What?" Woohyun asks.
And then Dongwoo kisses him, very softly, nothing more than a hesitant brush of lips. Woohyun's eyes flutter half-closed, but from this distance he can still make out the blur of Dongwoo's eyelashes, the dark of his irises at close range. It's the gentlest kiss anyone has ever given him, and it makes something inside Woohyun ache, horribly, like a fist closing around his aorta and squeezing-but it's a sweet kind of pain, almost, and that's what makes Woohyun bring his hand up to rest at Dongwoo's jaw.
It makes no sense, but somehow, it makes more sense than anything else Woohyun knows.
"This is okay?" he asks when they part. They're still close-Woohyun can feel Dongwoo's breath soft against his mouth, their foreheads and noses pressed together.
"It's okay," Dongwoo says. He leans forward and kisses Woohyun again, soft and proprietary. "I'm not going to flip out and try to kill you, if that's what you're asking."
Woohyun smiles, for what feels like the first time. "That's what I'm asking," he confirms, and then he kisses Dongwoo again, because it's as easy as breathing, as easy as Dongwoo's hand against the curve of his throat, easy as the soft sound Dongwoo makes in the back of his throat when their mouths press together. It's a soft kiss, careful, but thorough-Dongwoo parts his lips and Woohyun traces the line of his lower lip with his tongue, maps out his teeth, learning him, tasting him. Dongwoo's teeth catch on Woohyun's lip and this is really not how Woohyun expected this conversation to go, but he can't bring himself to stop.
They kiss for a long time, minutes, maybe ten, maybe twenty. Woohyun doesn't bother counting. When they part, Dongwoo offers him a smile, the closest thing to his old smile that Woohyun has seen in the weeks since they brought him home. "Okay, then," Dongwoo says softly, brushing his thumb over Woohyun's lower lip. "That's good."
"Okay," Woohyun agrees, returning the smile. "That's good."
part three | part four | part five
(you only find out that it hurts after it's already broken.)
sunggyu, dongwoo and woohyun in every permutation | nc-17 | part 4 of 9
Sunggyu is equal parts stubborn and incredibly forgiving, and the way he touches Woohyun is somewhere between the two. He gets Woohyun on his hands and knees and fingers him slow and deep, thorough, pressing his fingers into Woohyun's body in even thrusts that make Woohyun feel like his entire body is going to shake apart. Sunggyu has long fingers, musician's fingers, and they press up against the sensitive insides of him with a kind of unrelenting gentleness that Woohyun doesn't know how to handle. He's never known Sunggyu as a lover, only as a leader-he doesn't know what to do with this.
"Fuck, Sunggyu," he gasps, almost incoherent as Sunggyu crooks the tip of one finger to catch against the stretched and tender rim of his entrance. "Why are you being like this? Just-come on, hyung-"
Sunggyu doesn't say anything, and Woohyun supposes he doesn't have to. This isn't about romance-it's about control. It's about Sunggyu proving that he still has a grip on something, even if he can't make sense of anything else-even if their entire lives are falling apart, Sunggyu can still reduce Woohyun to gasps and sobs with nothing more than his fingers.
That's fine. If that's what Sunggyu needs, then that's what Woohyun will be. He's always been Sunggyu's tool.
When Sunggyu fucks him, finally, it's with too little preparation and not quite enough lube, and it hurts. It's sharp-clawed pressure forcing Woohyun open, and he drops to his elbows, pressing his face into the pillow to stifle a moan that's not entirely pleasure. He's done this before, used to live a life where sex was a tool for survival, but like this it feels like the very first time-Sunggyu's hands come to rest on his hips, strangely reassuring even as he eases deeper with sharp, minute thrusts that make Woohyun feel like his head is about to explode.
One of Sunggyu's hands shifts, traces an absent pattern down Woohyun's spine. Woohyun can't see anything but the fabric of Sunggyu's pillow, but he can read the gesture for what it is-questioning, vague apology. Asking if Woohyun is okay, not that it matters.
"It's fine," Woohyun says, turning his head to the side. He arches his back, presses his hips back towards Sunggyu until they're pressed flush together. "It's fine. Move."
The first few thrusts are painful, unpleasant, make Woohyun bite down to stifle his whimpers against the pillow. It's been too long since he did this-there was a time when he could take it with no preparation and spit only, but that was a long time ago, in a different lifetime, and now a particularly forceful thrust makes Woohyun gasp and bite his lip. But Sunggyu, for all that he can be selfish and demanding, is not cruel-he shifts a little, pulling Woohyun with him, and when he thrusts again his cock presses straight up against Woohyun's prostate. It's like a lightning bolt to the brain, the sizzle of almost-uncomfortable pleasure shooting through his nervous system, and Woohyun moans aloud, arching his back, his fingers tightening in the sheets. "Again," he says-he's always been mouthy in bed, and old habits die hard-and Sunggyu obeys, until Woohyun is panting, until he's hard again, lightheaded and incoherent.
There's too much sensation inside of him and nowhere for it to go. When Sunggyu sits back, pulling Woohyun up with him to sit spread across his legs, Woohyun goes easily-he's fucked-out already, all raw nerves and desperate sensation-chasing. The change in position forces Sunggyu deeper, and Woohyun moans his name, tilting his head back until it comes to rest on Sunggyu's shoulder.
"Shut up," Sunggyu says. It's the first thing he's said since he pinned Woohyun to the bed and kissed him, and the way his voice sounds-raw and heavy and dark-makes Woohyun shudder. "You're so loud, someone will hear you."
Woohyun knows what Sunggyu's not saying-that 'someone' means 'Dongwoo' and that even here, even when they're like this, Woohyun still isn't on the front of Sunggyu's mind. It stings a little, but it's not like Woohyun had been expecting anything else, so he doesn't say anything, just bites his lip and rolls his hips down to meet Sunggyu's.
Sunggyu presses one of his palms flat against Woohyun's lower stomach, hard, and holds it there, and that's what undoes Woohyun in the end. The simplicity of that touch, and the possession it implies-Woohyun gasps and shudders and comes, untouched, all over his thighs and Sunggyu's.
"You've always been so easy," Sunggyu mumbles, so softly Woohyun almost thinks he's imagined it.
And then he pushes Woohyun back down, onto his hands and knees, and fucks him through the aftershocks until Woohyun is oversensitive and raw, whimpering with each thrust. He feels stretched open and sore, every thrust like a miniature earthquake rocking him to his core, and when he feels Sunggyu shudder and feels the hot rush of Sunggyu's come inside him, any regret Woohyun feels is drowned out by relief.
Sunggyu pulls out slowly-torturously slowly-and as soon as he moves back, Woohyun all but collapses, ignoring the mess on his thighs in favor of pressing his face into the pillow and trying to catch his breath. It's like his body has been shaken apart and put back together again, but not quite the same, like there are hairline fractures on his insides-overwhelming, but in a good way. He doesn't realize he's trembling until Sunggyu pulls at his shoulder, rolling him onto his back, and asks, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Woohyun says, looking up at Sunggyu's face-he wants to memorize it, how Sunggyu looks right now, sweaty and exhausted and beautiful, because this is both the first and last time he'll see it. "Sore, exhausted. I feel good."
It's not a lie, but Sunggyu studies him for a long moment, as though he's trying to gauge the truth of Woohyun's words, then nods slowly. "Okay," he says, leaning down to press a soft and startlingly tender kiss against Woohyun's forehead. "You can sleep here, tonight."
It's somehow more than Woohyun was expecting. He shifts again, and watches as Sunggyu kicks the dirty blanket to the floor and pulls the sheet up over them. "I can sleep on the floor," Woohyun begins, but Sunggyu just rolls his eyes.
"Don't be an idiot," he says, stretching out and absently sliding an arm over Woohyun's stomach, holding him still.
Woohyun wonders, for a moment, if this is how Sunggyu used to hold Dongwoo after they'd had sex-if he was this casually possessive, this gentle, if he made Dongwoo feel as secure in his bed as Woohyun feels right now. It goes against everything Woohyun knows to be true, everything he thinks is a good idea, but he lets himself relax a little, lulled by the rhythm of Sunggyu's breathing next to him.
"I'll clean your sheets," he mumbles. Sunggyu's thumb brushes absently over his lowermost rib. "I probably owe you that much."
A pause. "Stop thinking of everything in terms of what you owe me," Sunggyu replies, his voice muffled by the pillow and Woohyun's shoulder. "Just sleep. Stop worrying and sleep."
Woohyun wakes up in the middle of the night, and finds Sunggyu sitting at the desk. He's wearing nothing but the light from his computer and a concentrated look, his eyes tracking lines of code across the screen. Woohyun knows that expression-he's as familiar with the line between Sunggyu's brows as he is with the way Sunggyu breathes, by now.
He sits up, tugs the sheets up around his waist. "What are you doing?"
"Thinking," Sunggyu replies absently. Several keystrokes, and an extended silence, before finally: "I'm trying to figure out what to do."
The distance between them, for a moment, seems indescribably huge. Woohyun looks at Sunggyu in the dimness of the room, and he feels like the space between them is as wide as the universe. This is a part of Sunggyu he will never truly understand. "About what?" he asks-hates that he has to ask. These are things that Dongwoo would have known. "Are you still thinking about what I said to you earlier?"
"Among other things."
They're silent again for a long moment. Woohyun doesn't know what to do with this, these half-answers Sunggyu gives him. He feels like he should be able to understand them, but he can't reach into the layers of hidden meaning between Sunggyu's words and tease them apart. "Okay," Woohyun finally says. He falls back onto the mattress, tucks one hand under his head. He has knots in his lower back, and he's sore between his legs, a steady throbbing burn reminding him of why he's here right now. "Are you coming back to bed?"
The question makes Sunggyu pause. He glances over at Woohyun, studies him for a moment. There's a peculiar look in his eyes-the same look he has when he's trying to figure out a particularly complex problem that keeps evading his grasp. "Yeah," Sunggyu says finally, and turns back to his monitor long enough to shut it down. "Sorry I woke you up."
"It's fine." Woohyun moves over on the bed to make room for Sunggyu, space he'd occupied in Sunggyu's absence. "I'm kind of used to it anyway."
It's supposed to be a joke, but it falls flat in the awkward atmosphere between them. Sunggyu props his head up on one hand and looks at Woohyun for a long moment, the same speculative look he'd just given. "Why?" Woohyun asks, perhaps a little demandingly. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Sunggyu says, shaking his head and smiling, just a little. "Go to sleep, Woohyun."
Annoyed, Woohyun rolls away, but Sunggyu just presses up behind him. It's invasive, in all the ways Woohyun likes but won't admit to. Sunggyu's chest is warm and solid against Woohyun's back, and Sunggyu drapes his arm over Woohyun's side, presses his palm flat against Woohyun's solar plexus. It's almost comforting, in a way that's rare for them, so Woohyun closes his eyes, relaxes, and sleeps.
Woohyun sneaks out of Sunggyu's bedroom before Sunggyu wakes up and changes his clothes, and when he comes out into the living room, Dongwoo is sitting on the couch, looking pensive.
It's not really like Woohyun is surprised. They hadn't been quiet-or rather, he hadn't been quiet, and he should have known better than to think Dongwoo wouldn't hear the way he'd been moaning. But in the heat of the moment, it's easy to forget, and now, when Dongwoo looks up and meets Woohyun's eyes, Woohyun can't believe he'd been that careless.
"Hi," Dongwoo says. He smiles, and it's not fake, but it's smaller than his usual smile, and his voice is softer. "Did you sleep well?"
Maybe Dongwoo doesn't mean for the words to be a barb, but they feel like one. "Yeah," Woohyun says, swallowing hard and glancing down at his hands. "You?"
"Fine."
Part of Woohyun thinks he should say something. Something like, I'm sorry, or maybe Even when he was fucking me he was thinking of you, didn't you know? Something, anything, to tell Dongwoo that it's not what it looks like-that it's not Woohyun taking this as an opportunity. But then again, in some ways, isn't it? He would never have touched Sunggyu if he and Dongwoo were still together-but with Dongwoo asleep on the couch, he had hardly hesitated before falling into Sunggyu's bed. Even if he is sorry, even if Sunggyu had been thinking of Dongwoo instead, does that really make what he's done any better?
"Do you want breakfast?" Woohyun finally asks, the words coming out choked by all the other things that he should say, but can't. "Are you hungry?"
Dongwoo shrugs a little, thumbing absently at a spot on the cushion. "I'm not really hungry," he says-apologetic, but not very. "Thanks anyway."
Woohyun imagines he wouldn't be very hungry, either, if he were in Dongwoo's shoes.
"Okay," Woohyun says, curling his fingers into fists, fingernails digging into his palms. A point to focus on, to keep himself grounded. "Hyung, I-"
And Hoya chooses that moment to emerge into the living room, hair damp and towel slung over his shoulders. He glances between the two of them-Dongwoo, tense and uncomfortable on the couch, and Woohyun, tense and uncomfortable in the middle of the room. "Is something weird going on in here?" he asks, straightforward as always. "Should I leave?"
"No!" Dongwoo stands up, dusts his hands off on his pants. "No, it's fine. Woohyun's making breakfast."
Hoya gives Dongwoo a skeptical look, then fixes his gaze on Woohyun. "…All right," he says, because Hoya has never been the type to push things like this. "I'll help, if you want."
"Sure," Woohyun says, but he's not really listening-he watches as Dongwoo makes his escape, and knows that he's the lowest of the low but can't figure out what to do about it. It's Woohyun's life, they're Woohyun's choices, but they feel more out of his hands than anything has in a long, long time.
Sunggyu and Dongwoo stop talking, after that.
The distance between them, the sleeping on the couch-that's one thing. Understandable, in the context of their complicated and tangled relationship. But the absence of even words between them is unthinkable, because Dongwoo has always been the one who understands Sunggyu better than anyone else-Dongwoo has always been the one who knows exactly what to say to get Sunggyu to calm down, or to laugh, or to relax. But now there is none of that-now there is only silence, and Dongwoo barely looks at Sunggyu, doesn't touch him or laugh with him or murmur to him when he thinks no one's watching.
Woohyun knows it's his fault. He knows that his lack of self-control is what drove the rift deeper, but he doesn't know how to fix it.
It's just-Woohyun loves Sunggyu, and he loves Dongwoo, too, but he would rather them be together and happy than have either of them for his own. Woohyun can be selfish, brutally so, but not in this-not when he can so clearly see how this is hurting both of the people he loves the most.
Days pass. Weeks pass, too, and Woohyun finally gets Dongwoo alone, when Sunggyu is out of the apartment to deliver something he'd been fixing for a client.
"Hyung," Woohyun says. Dongwoo is sitting on the floor of the living room, field stripping a pistol-unloaded, of course, and there are no bullets nearby. They've long since learned to hide their ammunition. But his motions are as fluid as they've ever been as he disengages the slide, removes the guide rod. "Do you have a second?"
"Sure," Dongwoo says. He glances up at Woohyun and smiles, and it hits Woohyun like a punch in the solar plexus-Dongwoo has always been far too forgiving. "Take a seat, what's up?"
Slowly, Woohyun settles down next to Dongwoo, leaning back against the couch and watching the way Dongwoo's fingers hold the gun. "I think we need to talk," he says softly, closing his eyes for a moment. "About-everything. You and hyung. …Me and hyung."
A long, pregnant pause. With his eyes closed, the clicks and slides of Dongwoo dismantling the pistol seem even louder in the silence. "Do we need to talk about it?" Dongwoo finally asks, and Woohyun opens his eyes to see Dongwoo set the gun down. "I thought we were doing fine not talking about it."
"We're not doing fine," Woohyun says. "You know we're not."
Another pause. "No," Dongwoo agrees. "I guess we're not."
"It's just," and Woohyun has no idea what he's trying to say, really, he just knows it needs to be said, "that you and Sunggyu are-perfect together, hyung. Before-all of this. You're the only person who's ever been able to understand him, or-get him to listen when someone says something he doesn't like. You're the only one who's ever been able to convince him to go to bed or eat or relax for a minute-even when he's stressed and snapping at everyone for nothing."
There's tension in the line of Dongwoo's back. "So?" he says. He's not quite looking at Woohyun. "I don't know if you've noticed, Woohyun-ah-I can't do that anymore."
"You can," Woohyun says. "You can, hyung-you still do. He's so in love with you it hurts to watch."
That hurts to say, too, but Woohyun would rather be honest.
"He slept with you," Dongwoo points out. He doesn't say it to be cruel, and there's no malice in his tone, but the words still cut Woohyun like wires. "I don't think I'd exactly say he's grieving over me."
"He slept with me and thought of you the whole time," Woohyun says. "It's always been you-stop being so stupid, hyung, you have to know it's always been you. Even if I'm-"
Even if I'm in love with him. Even if I'm willing to give him anything. No, that's not what he wants to say.
"I'm sorry," Woohyun says instead, tilting his head back against the cushion of the couch. The back of his throat feels hot, and he swallows hard against it, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry I slept with him. I messed up really bad, hyung, I know-I'm selfish, I've always been selfish. I just took what I wanted and didn't-but even if you can't forgive me, please forgive him. You're better for him than anything, hyung."
When he opens his eyes, Dongwoo is watching him, his elbow braced against the couch cushion and his cheek resting in his hand. "Selfish?" he says, smiling a little as he studies Woohyun's face. "You're so dumb sometimes, Woohyun-ah."
"What?"
"You're not selfish." Dongwoo reaches out, drags his knuckles idly down the side of Woohyun's face, the same kind of unexpectedly gentle touch that he's so recently learned to give and receive. "You're one of the least selfish men I know."
There's no explanation for why that stings, or why Woohyun's eyes prickle at the words. "Don't say that, hyung," he says, though he refuses to turn his face away from Dongwoo's hand. "I know I am. I'm not-it's not like I'm just saying it to make you compliment me, I'm just realistic, you know? I have shortcomings, I move too much in my sleep and I'm selfish and I want things I can't have."
This isn't how Woohyun expected this conversation to go.
"You're an idiot," Dongwoo says again. And then he laughs, softly but genuinely, his eyes brighter than Woohyun has seen them in a long time. "Who told you that you're selfish? You take care of all of us and you never ask for anything, even when you're hurting. -Don't tell me you're not, I might be messed up in the brain but I'm not stupid."
Woohyun closes his mouth, swallows down the protest he'd been on the verge of making. "Hyung," he says, his voice embarrassingly soft. "You have to stop being so nice to me."
"Why should I?" Dongwoo opens his hand, presses his palm flat against the edge of Woohyun's jaw. Woohyun, against his better judgment, turns his face into the touch, and Dongwoo's expression softens. "Forgive you? Idiot Nam Woohyun, there was never anything to forgive you for."
"Don't tell me this had nothing to do with me," Woohyun says quietly. "I know it did."
Dongwoo shakes his head. "I won't tell you it had nothing to do with you," he says. "It did. Just not in the way you're imagining, I think." He brushes his thumb absently over Woohyun's cheekbone, studying his face for a long moment-Woohyun feels strangely like he's being laid bare, like all his insides are visible to the naked eye. All of the secrets he keeps written under his skin, translated into a language for Dongwoo to understand. "I'm going to do something stupid, okay?"
"What?" Woohyun asks.
And then Dongwoo kisses him, very softly, nothing more than a hesitant brush of lips. Woohyun's eyes flutter half-closed, but from this distance he can still make out the blur of Dongwoo's eyelashes, the dark of his irises at close range. It's the gentlest kiss anyone has ever given him, and it makes something inside Woohyun ache, horribly, like a fist closing around his aorta and squeezing-but it's a sweet kind of pain, almost, and that's what makes Woohyun bring his hand up to rest at Dongwoo's jaw.
It makes no sense, but somehow, it makes more sense than anything else Woohyun knows.
"This is okay?" he asks when they part. They're still close-Woohyun can feel Dongwoo's breath soft against his mouth, their foreheads and noses pressed together.
"It's okay," Dongwoo says. He leans forward and kisses Woohyun again, soft and proprietary. "I'm not going to flip out and try to kill you, if that's what you're asking."
Woohyun smiles, for what feels like the first time. "That's what I'm asking," he confirms, and then he kisses Dongwoo again, because it's as easy as breathing, as easy as Dongwoo's hand against the curve of his throat, easy as the soft sound Dongwoo makes in the back of his throat when their mouths press together. It's a soft kiss, careful, but thorough-Dongwoo parts his lips and Woohyun traces the line of his lower lip with his tongue, maps out his teeth, learning him, tasting him. Dongwoo's teeth catch on Woohyun's lip and this is really not how Woohyun expected this conversation to go, but he can't bring himself to stop.
They kiss for a long time, minutes, maybe ten, maybe twenty. Woohyun doesn't bother counting. When they part, Dongwoo offers him a smile, the closest thing to his old smile that Woohyun has seen in the weeks since they brought him home. "Okay, then," Dongwoo says softly, brushing his thumb over Woohyun's lower lip. "That's good."
"Okay," Woohyun agrees, returning the smile. "That's good."
part three | part four | part five