infinite: tm 45 (1/2)
TM 45
- Woohyun/Myungsoo, implied Myungsoo/Sungyeol. NC-17 for brief sexual scenes. 15441 words.
- Myungsoo treats every moment in his life as a Pokemon battle - you win some, you lose some. You also meet someone who you just can't win over and that someone, much to Myungsoo's dismay, is Woohyun.
- The title comes from the Pokemon move Attract, a move that can be learned by levelling up or by TM. (reference). For infinitesanta, originally posted HERE.
- LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES to Chels and Ed for holding my hand as I wrote this fic and for acting as my shock absorber. ♥
i. Fight
"What the-"
Myungsoo grips his DS tight in his hands but makes no effort to wipe off the look of disbelief in his face. He watches as Pikachu sends out bolts of lightning, powering up Electivire in the process, watches as Electivire's speed goes up, as Electivire lands a solid Ice Punch on Venusaur, quickly taking out the latter.
He sends out his Stunfisk and gulps hard.
Three years ago, when he had just started out, he probably wouldn't have minded being owned by a Pikachu, but he is L. Kim, the best online battler Korea has to offer, his only defeat in an online match being the one against Sungyeol - in the 2011 summer video game championships - who had been battling even before he picked up Diamond and Pearl. He's come a long way and he knows the meta game inside-out, and the concept of a Pikachu being used against him in completely unacceptable.
He makes a mental note to build a team around Pikachu later on. He can beat Sungyeol with it, he's fairly certain.
"Man, I've never-" Sungyeol's voice breaks in all the right places, and Myungsoo doesn't look up from his DS, fingers drumming on the keys lightly. There's still a way to win, and it's not by getting distracted.
He chooses "Bulldoze" and takes a deep, deep breath.
Pikachu attacks with another Discharge and Electivire's speed now rests at +2. "Whoa, dude, he's not fucking around," comes Sungyeol's voice, now clearer than ever, and Myungsoo grips his DS tighter. It's another Ice Punch from Electivire, one Stunfisk manages to survive thanks to sleepless nights of defense and special defense training, with some help from a focus sash. Bulldoze kicks in, and Myungsoo watches as the ground shakes and cracks and the shock inflicts damage on the electric types.
He holds his breath as the damage cuts the life points by a quarter, half, the red bar becoming more of a sign of victory with every passing second.
"Did Stunfisk just-"
Myungsoo screams at the top of his lungs, expletives dripping from his lips as he raises his DS in the air. He doesn't notice the final click of the DS when the match ends, or the small voice coming from his DS' speakers, the chuckling, Sungyeol asking for details of how the match eventually panned out because his internet connection kicked him out even before Myungsoo could celebrate the win. Only minutes after does he notice the trade request from the same trainer who has battled him, the image of victory still burning at the back of his eyelids.
Myungsoo rarely ever posts videos of battles revealing his occasionally-mediocre performance and prediction skills, but this is an exception - he finds his hands frantically navigating through the recordings in his DS and sending it to himself for him to time the narration and explain the sneaky yet well-crafted strategy his opponent has employed. It's not entirely embarassing, contrary to Sungyeol's belief; it's thrilling.
He hasn't felt so challenged and fulfilled after winning a battle in so long.
"Can you tell your friend to shut up," comes Sungyeol's voice on Skype. The sound of Sungyeol tapping the keys of his DS furiously seeps through the speakers. Myungsoo turns down the volume a bit; keysmashing sounds always unnerve him. "Your DS keeps sounding off. It's annoying."
Myungsoo looks up briefly, examining the inscrutable look on Sungyeol's face, until a notification pops up on his DS' touch screen; another trade request, this time for a Squirtle. He sends over a Magikarp with perfect IVs in attack, defense, and speed in return. "You're just jealous."
Sungyeol's voice is much clearer now. "Why would I be?"
Myungsoo hears soft mumbling coming from the other end of the trade, and he quickly hits the Mute button before pushing through with the trade - a bold-natured Squirtle, creatively named DEM CANONS!!! He giggles before sending off one last Pokemon, one named heyty, then closes his DS once the trade goes through.
Sungyeol clears his throat. "Do you have a gig tonight?"
"Nah." He slips his DS in his drawer and reaches for his camera bag. Never mind that he's covering the webcam with his chest. "I'm covering something tonight. It's the launch of the new trading card game."
Sungyeol lets out a small sound of approval. "They are paying you cash, right?"
Myungsoo laughs a little. "I told them I accept payment in cash and cards."
Sungyeol grumbles, glares at him through the webcam, then worries his lip. Years ago, Myungsoo would have read into this, would have taken it as Sungyeol actually displaying concern and the late night talks, battles, Skype conversations meaning more, but it's 2013 - he's doing gigs four times a week while waiting for the entertainment companies' scouting season to begin, covering events on the side until the whee hours of the morning. He knows better than to be won over by Sungyeol's sad eyes.
If he ever reconsiders, he only looks up briefly, then looks back down at his feet for fear of going back to square one.
"Need a lightsman?" Sungyeol asks, and Myungsoo simply waves him off, then pulls down the laptop's screen.
The event is in a rather unusual place; who even thinks of launching a Pokemon event in a Hello Kitty cafe? Myungsoo wades his way through the crowd, waves at the organizer - an old friend he met online - then clicks the shutter release on instinct - his camera is almost always turned on.
"I thought it was supposed to be an intimate event?"
Hoya laughs a little. "I wanted to keep it small, but Dongwoo sent out all these invites-"
"To battlers." Myungsoo spots a familiar face - Sungjong, ljongrado on Youtube, a battler who has steadily climbed up the ranks and has secured himself a place in the top-tier group of trainers with this team of unassuming fairy-types. "That guy massacred Haydunn's team with his Slurpuff. He creeps me out."
"He's a sweetie." Hoya gestures at Sungjong, and a smile quickly surfaces on Sungjong's lips. He probably isn't half as daunting as the webcam and poor lighting usually make him seem, but something at the back of Myungsoo's mind harps about the peculiar curve of Sungjong's lips, or the crinkles in his eyes. "Have you two met?"
Sungjong's smile is bright. Dazzling Gleam, Myungsoo notes. The strangest image of Sungjong with Sylveon's bows occurs to him. He tries hard not to burst into laughter.
"L. Kim, right? The biggest advocate of Magikarp in the online community?" Sungjong nods thoughtfully. "You kicked my ass with your Gyarados. I won't forget that battle, back in-"
"Spring VGCs 2011." Myungsoo's fingers dance on the body of his camera. "The quarter-final match. Your Magnezone was pretty amazing."
The light dims, and the spotlight shines on the stage, washing out the backdrop. The host soon steps on the platform, draws the microphone close to his lips, then begins to speak. Myungsoo takes this as his cue, bowing to Sungjong and Hoya to excuse himself, then makes his way through the crowd again, this time much closer to the stage. There's a familiar kind of warmth, like the one he had experienced during his last performance in school, singing a song his father used to share with him to a crowd of students whose minds are fixed only on passing their subjects.
He looks through the viewfinder and draws it closer to his face, his left hand steady, supporting the lens.
The host looks into the lens and Myungsoo freezes.
He knows this face; it's all too familair - the small, perpetually amused look in his eyes, the light curl at the corners of the lips, the high cheekbones, the curve of the neck. The small frame and the pronounced muscles. He knows for sure that he's had several battles with this person before and has lost most of them, knows that this person has disappeared from the face of the Earth for at least a year, and definitely not supposed to be in this Hello Kitty Cafe. His right index finger moves on its own accord, clicking, clicking, clicking until the host blinks and Myungsoo focuses his lens on the host's hands.
The host turns his attention back to his cue cards, then the crowd.
Shit, Myungsoo thinks. It's the 2012 VGCs overall champion, Namwoo.
ii. Bag
Myungsoo started battling online in 2008. Pokemon Diamond and Pearl had just been released then, and it was the first time he'd beaten Sungyeol at anything, calling dibs on Diamond and openly laughing at Sungyeol for having to settle with Pearl, instead. "Yeah, because I'm too busy fussing over my studies and you don't have anything better to do," Sungyeol had said, and Myungsoo dismissed it even before he could come up with a sharp retort - if he'd be able to, at all.
Sungyeol had always been the overachiever, the smart one, the type of son you'd brag about in parties. Sungyeol had set his mind on pursuing a career in medicine while attempting to become a Pokemon master on the side; Myungsoo was an aspiring musician whose attempts at creating the Next Big Hit were nothing short of a Pokerap in the making.
Sungyeol disappeared from the face of the Earth as Myungsoo had known it in 2009. He found out through Sungyeol's mother three weeks after Sungyeol left because, "I think he just didn't know how to say goodbye." It was a pathetic excuse, Myungsoo thought, but there was nothing he could do about it - Sungyeol was miles away and didn't even have the decency to leave him a farewell note and he wasn't even online on Pearl.
It wasn't as if Sungyeol owed him anything, so he replied, "He didn't have to." He balled his fists, then turned to Sungyeol's mother with a sad smile. "We just had to see each other and I'd already know."
Myungsoo made it a point to be online everyday, on every single communications platform available, but none of Sungyeol. There was Sunggyu and Sungjong and Hoya and Dongwoo, but no Sungyeol. Accepting battle requests, he typed in his Youtube channel profile, and hit the Save Changes button even before he could change his mind.
The first time Myungsoo saw Sungyeol since the sudden disappearance was before the 2011 Fall VGCs. The Bat Signal was, "I dropped out of med school"; the response was, "I'll meet you in that ice cream shop in thirty minutes." Myungsoo arrived ten minutes earlier than expected and Sungyeol was already there, respectable in pristine white clothes from head to toe.
There was a stain flaunted on the left side collar of Sungyeol's shirt. "You've got shit on your suit," was the first thing Myungsoo had said, and Sungyeol just shook his head, stretched out his arms and replied with a small smile.
Myungsoo walked over to where Sungyeol was in a rush and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug, something he belatedly regretted when Sungyeol had called him out on being too emotional, overeager, the fakest tough cookie ever.
"You still like me, though," Myungsoo retorted.
"Yeah. Maybe even too much."
The smile on Sungyeol's lips quickly turned into a grin, and he laughed at Myungsoo silly for the next two minutes. Myungsoo sighed in relief; this was Sungyeol, alright.
In the three hours they spent in the ice cream parlor, Sungyeol told him about how tough life as a med student was, that he'd dropped out because med was making him sick both in the head and in the body, that maybe Pokemon was the only thing that kept him sane through all those sleepless nights, that he might have had half the mind to make drunken calls to Myungsoo at the height of his stress as an aspiring medical practitioner.
"Why didn't you?"
"Didn't think you'd pick up." A droplet of ice cream was slipping from the corner of Sungyeol's lips; Myungsoo wanted to reach for a tissue to wipe it off, but clasped his hands together instead. "And I knew you were busy. Didn't want to keep you from your 'muse'."
"It would've been better if you didn't use air quotes." Myungsoo was reckless now; he wiped off the stain with his thumb.
"That's as good as it gets, I'm afraid."
Myungsoo rubbed his thumb on the midsection of Sungyeol's forehead. "I figured."
They spent another hour devising a plan of action for Sungyeol, ten minutes figuring out where to eat next, and five minutes trying to one-up each other by doing a Pokemon battle without their consoles, using only their imagination. Sungyeol won thanks to entry hazards and the poison status on Myungsoo's last Pokemon standing. It wasn't out of luck; Sungyeol deserved to win.
Myungsoo snaked an arm around Sungyeol to pull him closer to the sidewalk, away from danger and closer to him. Sungyeol made no effort to retaliate.
2012 was one of the toughest years of Myungsoo's life. He'd skipped he VGCs the whole year, had bailed out of every family reunion to dedicate his time to his craft and his studies. Their graduation requirement was to create an album of not less than ten songs, all of which self-composed.
"You can't write songs for shit," Sunggyu said, a sad smile pulling down the corner of his lips. Sunggyu had been through this the year before, somehow finished the program unscathed, and had previously assured Myungsoo that he'd do just fine, but Myungsoo was Myungsoo and he hated feeling complacent, like he was bound to miss something of great importance if he closed his eyes longer than the usual. A streak of panic flashed across his features as soon as Myungsoo furrowed his eyebrows. "I mean, if you were to write songs, they'd be good but you've never been good with words and-"
Myungsoo waved him off, replying, "You don't have to play nice, hyung." Then, after a while. "Battle? I'll kick your sorry ass."
Myungsoo was, technically, out of practice, but it wasn't an excuse for his poor performance. His predictions were off and he made a few basic errors, but he won - only by a hairline. Sunggyu's Charizard missed the Fire Blast and Myungsoo's Heracross luckily landed a critical hit with Stone Edge.
"Lucky," he'd said after Sunggyu congratulated him. "I'd be lucky if I get to graduate this year. I... Can you help?"
"I... can't help right now." Sunggyu frowned, apologetic. "I'm pretty swamped with gigs. But I know someone who can?"
Myungsoo looked up, a small smile on his lips. There was a hint of hesitation in Sunggyu's eyes, but then Sunggyu was born with a worried look. "Well, probably. I think he's in the same year as you are. He disappeared for a year." Sunggyu laughed gingerly. "He was supposed to be my thesis partner but-"
"But?"
"Clashing music styles." Sunggyu's eyes had drawn into slits and Myungsoo couldn't read him as quickly anymore. "I think you'll get along just fine, though."
Three days and much fussing after, Sunggyu introduced Myungsoo to Nam Woohyun.
He wasn't that bad; just not entirely good, either. Woohyun was a musician - he made music references every chance he got, and would almost always sing his responses, humming to fill the white noise. He had a plethora of singing awards under his belt, and one for music composition - most creative interpretation of a theme, and said theme was 'the fighter'.
"What they didn't know," Woohyun said in between laughter, "was that I was writing about the epic battle with Red at Mt. Silver." Woohyun's face was now a rich shade of red and there were beads of tears at the corner of his eyes and, "There's no running away now, I have to face my fears. I sing my heart out to wake up the beast that lies within- That's for you, Snorlax!"
Myungsoo took a deep breath. "You play Pokemon?"
Sunggyu smiled a little. Beside him, Woohyun grinned. "It's my life."
Myungsoo stared - more like gaped, really, because he rarely ever met people who were interested in Pokemon, save for those who he had battled with online. Being a fan of the franchise wasn't exactly something people usually take pride in. Pokemon was often viewed as a childish game, something for kids, but Myungsoo knew better.
Pokemon was a story about finding oneself, nourishing the strength within, and meeting people who would later be great allies in thwarting the forces of evil. That, and earning money by beating the crap out of pathetic trainers.
"Are you okay?" Sunggyu asked. No, Myungsoo wanted to reply. No, because I've been hit with Hypnosis and he's draining the fuck out of me with Dream Eater and I have to hang onto my Focus Sash to keep myself in check and-"
"How about you?"
Myungsoo blinked twice. Stop using Pokemon metaphors, said a voice in his mind, like a mantra or a prayer that might save him from drowning. He took a deep breath and smiled, but only a little, carefully parting his lips to reply, "I'm a Pokemon master."
The first few days were spent getting to know each other, memorizing each other's music and battling styles. By the following week, Myungsoo already knew that Woohyun could hardly function properly without the promise of a quick battle at the end of the day. "It's the only way to de-stress," Woohyun had explained, face buried in his hands. Myungsoo could only watch as Woohyun's arms gave away, collapsing on the table as Woohyun's face landed flat on the surface.
"We can do a quick one."
"You make it sound like we're having a quickie."
Nervous laughter escaped Myungsoo's lips abruptly. "Uh. Okay."
"Kidding. C'mon, let's make this quick."
Ten minutes after, they were still playing, tapping furiously at the buttons and yelling Pokemon moves at each other, the promise of another battle ringing brightly in Myungsoo's ears.
A month into knowing each other, Woohyun had somehow convinced Myungsoo that plastering a video of their faces and outtakes of their battles on Youtube was a good idea. It wasn't such a bad endeavor - Myungsoo had gained a good amount of subscribers the first hour the video went live, but he wasn't so comfortable about seeing his face on the internet.
"You narrate your battle videos but don't like to put a face to that voice?" Woohyun scrunched his nose and rolled over, lying flat on his stomach. He'd crumpled some papers along the way, but Myungsoo wasn't worried; those were readings, not music sheets. Music sheets were never taken to bed - that was the rule.
"Unlike you, some people want to remain mysterious online."
"Meh." Woohyun rolled his eyes. "You have a picture of yourself in your profile and you do audio recordings; do you really think you're still mysterious?"
Myungsoo chuckled. Even Sunggyu couldn't argue with him on that; Myungsoo had repeatedly pointed out that moving pictures were different from a still, and that the world was better off not seeing his weird facial expressions.
"I'd love to think I am." Myungsoo turned to Woohyun with a small smile. "But hey, a hundred new subscribers. I think they actually like my face."
"Your face is likeable," Woohyun commented. There was a peculiar smile on the curve of the lip and maybe Woohyun was staring at his lips; if he had his glasses on, he wouldn't have to keep guessing. Lock on. "Very likeable."
"Looks like it. I just got another subscriber."
The thing about Woohyun, Myungsoo stressed, was that he was too touchy even if the situation didn't call for touches and back hugs and an arm around the shoulder. Myungsoo didn't mind the warmth - he didn't get cold easily, but he wasn't accustomed to having something warm draped on his body half the time. In video recordings, Myungsoo would make a conscious effort to maintain a safe distance from Woohyun, but Woohyun would always weasel his way to him, their thighs pressed together, sticky from contact.
"Hey, come closer. You're outside the frame."
"I'm fine here in the corner, thank you very much."
"It's not as if I'll look at your DS while we battle. Come on-"
"I said I'm fine-"
It wasn't that Myungsoo wasn't receptive to touch - he loved hugs in particular - but anything in excess was bad. Woohyun grabbed him by the wrist and he'd somehow ended up getting dragged right next to Woohyun, his DS safe in his hands, his head rested on Woohyun's lap. He could feel his DS slipping from his hands, his fingers now cold, becoming numb. It felt a lot like defeat.
"You comfy there?" Woohyun asked, and Myungsoo just snorted. The last turn of a Sunny Day-boosted Solar Beam. Woohyun winning streak was over.
He got up as soon as he claimed victory over Woohyun, stopped the recording, and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat.
(Myungsoo pressed his palms flat on the counter and closed his eyes, counting to ten. It had been easier to ignore and deny before, but if his heart would keep racing in his chest everytime Woohyun's touch lingered or Woohyun stared at his lips, his efforts would be futile. So he whispered, careful not to let Woohyun hear, "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him," until it was much easier to believe.
"Hey, get your sorry ass here! We need to write!" came Woohyun's voice from the room. Myungsoo took a deep breath.
He needed to write something, and fast.)
So maybe they'd gotten a bit too drunk one time, a bit too reckless. It was Friday and it was vice night and Woohyun thought it would be a great idea to steal one bottle of Bombay Sapphire from the shelf for themselves and lock themselves in a room. Myungsoo thought it was crazy but indulged, anyway, and the next thing he knew he was sprawled on the bed, lying flat on his back with Woohyun straddling him.
"I'm not ready to battle," Myungsoo mumbled.
Woohyun laughed and pinched him in his side. "You have a Blastoise that will knock out my Steelix. You're going to win, no questions asked."
Even before Myungsoo could come up with a retort, Woohyun leaned in and pressed their lips together. The kiss was slow, languid, easy and maybe even lazy until Woohyun licked Myungsoo's upper lip, asking for access. Myungsoo gripped the sheets tight. The image of the Escape button was bright beneath his eyelids but he parted his lips, anyway, letting Woohyun in, catching the bitter tang on the tip of Woohyun's tongue.
Myungsoo hadn't expected Woohyun to be incredibly helpful in composing songs, but Woohyun always seemed to have a melody under his breath and lyrics at the tip of his tongue. On his bad days, Woohyun would be lounging on Myungsoo's couch, music sheets placed neatly, albeit in a pile, on the table nearby; on his better days, they'd be kissing until Myungsoo couldn't keep the words at bay anymore and his hands were itching to write something down that sounded a lot like Woohyun (or would sound good in Woohyun's voice, in Woohyun's distinct tone).
On their best days, they'd be lying flat on their stomachs, two feet from each other, yelling profanities as they tapped the buttons of their DSes madly. Myungsoo would sit up and thrust a fist up in the air with every victory, and Woohyun would rest his hands on Myungsoo's shoulders, slowly guiding him down on the bed as he trailed kisses along the expanse of flesh lining Myungsoo's neck. Woohyun would be thankful for Myungsoo's affinity to threadbare clothing and Woohyun would say, "It's so convenient to be in a tank top," and Myungsoo would let Woohyun slide his hands up his shirt, removing the article of clothing, and plant a soft kiss on his lips.
He would let Woohyun suck him off as he tried to run lyrics in his mind so he wouldn't forget, would let Woohyun finger him until all he could say was Woohyun's name. After the frenzy, Woohyun would nuzzle against him, face to chest, and hum under his breath.
Woohyun would get up early the morning after and make breakfast - nothing fancy; anything edible that can be made from Myungsoo's meager stash of food - and Myungsoo would catch him scribbling lyrics on scratch paper because he knew that Myungsoo's notebooks were sacred and must not be touched.
"I'll make coffee," Myungsoo would say, and Woohyun would nod and save his advances for later, after lunch, once they've already had enough coffee and time to write. Rinse and repeat until the day had already ended. A nice, soothing backing track for everyday living.
can't drop by 2day, Woohyun said over text one time. sry just hv 2 concentrate and finish mastering d title track i'll make it up 2 u babe
Myungsoo glossed over the message and typed a short yet teasing reply, saying, oh so you're saying i'm a distraction? ok got it kekeke. He was expecting a plethora of smileys from Woohyun or possibly even a simple, straightforward oh fuck u, to which he was prepared to reply, but you're there and i'm here, but none of those. He counted to ten - ten was a good number, ten was the number of seconds it normally took for Woohyun to react to things - but his screen didn't light up. So he counted another ten, and another, and another.
Ten minutes had already passed and Woohyun still hadn't replied. Myungsoo diverted his attention to the album he was developing, convinced that burrying oneself in work was the best way to recalibrate himself until a particular song came up - the hidden track, a duet between him and Woohyun.
He went to the previous track and added some beats a second layer of vocals, this time lower, and nodded thoughtfully as he finished remastering the track.
He skipped the duet track and started working on the last track. It was a song about triumph and glory, about conquering the world.
It was a song about the greatest match he had ever had the chance of being part of, one he fought alongside Woohyun.
hey woo?
mm
we're good right?
A week since the last time they wrote songs together and Myungsoo was worrying about Woohyun's album more than anything else. Myungsoo's was nearing completion - only the cover art was missing, and he was still debating with Dongwoo about the logic behind making use of an image of a broken heart when the album was, in fact, about powering through life and facing challenges head-on - and Woohyun's progress on the album was a perfectly reflection of the state of his mind.
asked on skype and he said he was already done, Hoya offered when Myungsoo finally decided to seek the help of a friend.
that's good, was Myungsoo's curt reply. At the back of his mind, a response was waiting to be thrown out in the air - then what's keeping him from coming back?
"I can explain," was Sunggyu's opening statement when he asked Myungsoo to grab a cup of coffee and catch up. His face was void of the usual bright smile and eyes; he looked tired. "I never explained how Woohyun and I drifted apart, did I?"
"You looked as if you didn't want to talk about it." Myungsoo drummed his fingers on the table. Appetizer was being served, but he felt like skipping to the main course.
Sunggyu looked up at Myungsoo, lips parted, no sound slipping from them. He closed his mouth, opened it again, but this time with more resolution and the promise of an actual explanation in the way his jaw hung open, poised for a speech.
"We had something in the past, Woohyun and I." Sunggyu took a bunch of the sauteed bean sprouts; Woohyun liked those. "We weren't just thesis partners. We were... more."
"Lovers."
"Hardly. We never even made music together. At best, we were-"
"Fuck buddies," Myungsoo finished, voice dropping to a whisper.
Sunggyu laid the chopsticks flat on the plate and looked up, meeting Myungsoo's eyes for the first time. "I'm sorry, I... wasn't able to warn you."
Myungsoo took a deep breath, then reached for the plate of kimchi opposite him. Thoughts of Woohyun flashed in his mind, right before his eyes - Woohyun staying the night in Myungsoo's flat, spending midnights writing songs that could pass as anime themes on the scratch papers lying around Myungsoo's house, Woohyun always cooking breakfast and leaving sticky notes next to the pot of coffee, lyrics written on the tiny sheet of paper.
The first time they actually did it was halfway through the term, after Woohyun finished writing the ninth track on the album. "A new way of celebrating," Myungsoo remembered Woohyun saying, and mindlessly followed, still high from the midterm rush and having the first five tracks of his albums approved by his thesis adviser.
"We made music. We wrote a lot of songs together. I don't understand-"
He had to stuff a piece of kimchi in his mouth to keep himself from saying more.
"He withdraws from the world when he feels himself getting too attached. He hates being vulnerable." Sunggyu took a piece of tofu and poked it several times before eating it. "Notice that he's always the one making the first move, but he's also the first to pull away."
"Not when he's with me, he isn't." Myungsoo chuckled. "I guess between the two of us, I was more allergic to attachments."
"I'm allergic to Woohyun," Sunggyu commented. The smile that was on his lips had subsided. "But I thought he'd do your music career well, so&dmash;"
"Hey, hyung." Myungsoo clasped a hand on Sunggyu's and tried his best to smile, but then smiling had never been a talent of his. "It's not your fault."
Sunggyu let out a dissatisfied exhale, then turned to Myungsoo, squeezing his hand in the process. "Welcome to the club, then?" he said, laughing a little as he ended.
"Welcome to the club, indeed."
iii. Pokemon
"Leaving so early?"
Myungsoo looks up to meet Hoya's eyes and supply a short explanation, all while placing his camera in his bag. "I'm done for the night," he replies, then cocks his head in the direction of the busy gamers. "Can't compete with these kids. I'm too old to stay up late. Besides, I have another event tomorrow morning so-"
"I won't let you run away from this."
Myungsoo zip up his bag and heaves a sigh. "You know about this?"
"Duh." Hoya snatches his bag and heads backstage, then reemerges with empty hands and a raised eyebrow. "So, how many pictures of him did you take-"
Myungsoo cackles, laughs, letting out all the air in his chest. It's the first time he's laughed since seeing Woohyun's face for the first time in a a year. Woohyun is still Woohyun - there's still the peculiar curl of the lip when he smiles and the clean crinkles in the corner of his eyes when he squints. His hands are still donned with stress, veins prominent on the surface. And he sounds the same. Or maybe Myungsoo's just tricking himself into thinking that nothing has changed.
Shivers run down his spine when he catches Woohyun looking at him from three tables away. Woohyun is winning, one damage counter away from claiming victory, five meters from where Myungsoo is. Another flash of shivers, a line of fear shooting through his veins. Acrophobia haunting him at the age of twenty one.
"Just enough," he replies. There's a hint of an apology in Hoya's eyes. "Hey, I'm a professional. I don't mix work with other shit."
Hoya cackles, eyes bright at the seams. "Yeah, but you mix school with- Okay, not going there."
He's known Hoya for close to three years now. He remembers meeting Hoya in the Smogon forums, sharing his unabashed love for Abomasnow and the automatic hailstorm weather that goes on forever. Hoya was there when Sungyeol wasn't, when Sunggyu was much too busy with graduation requirements and participating, when Woohyun had disappeared without notice.
"You already did."
Hoya shrugs. "Eh. Couldn't help it." A mild squint of the eyes, and then, "He's coming."
Myungsoo flinches when a warm hand rests on his shoulder, anyway. Hoya's greeting blares in Myungsoo's ears, loud enough to drown out the unintelligible noises he makes. "Thanks for agreeing to host on such short notice," Hoya says, smile bright and unwavering.
Myungsoo turns around slowly and wears his best smile, but Woohyun's smile rivals his. It makes him choke on his own spit, makes his chest constrict and words get lodged at his throat and he can only manage to gape in response to Woohyun's warm greeting.
He's never been good at hellos.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Woohyun says. He squeezes Myungsoo's arm lightly.
"I wish I didn't have to," Myungsoo quickly says, sharp and laden with regret, especially when Woohyun briefly furrows his eyebrows in retaliation.
Hoya excuses himself and briefly squeezes Myungsoo's arm before leaving.
Myungsoo stares at the distance between him and Woohyun - just a few inches; it could have been much shorter a year back - at Woohyun's hands, veins pronounced on the surface, at Woohyun's face that's lit up by a smile.
"I knew you'd say that."
Myungsoo scoffs. "Then go now. Or should I be the first to leave this time since you-"
Woohyun grabs him by the wrist and pulls him closer. He can feel his pulse quickening, can feel the cold of Woohyun's fingers prick his skin, sending shivers down his spine. "I can explain. I'll take you home," Woohyun whispers in his ear, so soft that Myungsoo hardly catches any of it, but Woohyun is Woohyun and Myungsoo still has his voice memorized at the back of his mind.
"I prefer taking the long route. And walking."
Woohyun beams. "Awesome. I love walking, too."
Myungsoo hauls his bag over his shoulder and walks ahead, doesn't look over his shoulder to check if Woohyun follows because he knows Woohyun will, and the only time Woohyun hasn't kept his promise was when he said, via text, i'll make it up 2 u babe.
Myungsoo sneaks a glance when he walks past the door, down the stairs, when he attempts to walk away. Woohyun's smile glimmers.
"I was scared, that's why I left," Woohyun says out of the blue, ten minutes into the walk. "I wanted to be an idol and I knew I couldn't risk breaking the norm if I was going to pursue that path. So I left."
That's not the issue, Myungsoo wants to say, but instead he hums, unsympathetic, monotonous and barely above a whisper. He stares at his feet, then at Woohyun's own. Their steps fall into sync after a while. They pass the playground nearby and Myungsoo thinks, he could probably pull the same trick and leave without warning. He's not tired enough for a confrontation like this.
"No texts, no calls, no messages - nothing. You could have died and we wouldn't have known."
Woohyun scoffs. "If I died, the whole world would know. I'm pretty famous. Remember, I'm the reason why you're famous on Youtube, not your apparent lack of skill."
"I'm still one VGC title better than you," Myungsoo retorts. He tries to fight the smile creeping to his lips but it's dark, anyway, so he lets it slip until they pass a streetlamp and Woohyun looks his way.
"I still have more subscribers on Youtube." Laughter, then, "Suck it."
Woohyun's idea of explaining everything is five minutes' worth of word vomit and nervous laughter and giggling in between Myungsoo's snide remarks. The concept of forgiveness still eludes Myungsoo, so the best he can offer is a small smile when they reach the train station. If Myungsoo remembers corrently, Woohyun's supposed to be heading west, but Woohyun hops on the same train as he does.
The airconditioning is set too low and there's too much space. Myungsoo sits a few good feet from Woohyun and texts Sungyeol, skype in 10 mins pls.
"I've been looking for you, you know," Woohyun says after a while. "Been tracking you down for months but you hardly ever update your Facebook account and you don't tweet and-"
"Youtube. You could have messaged me on Youtube." Myungsoo's phone buzzes - it's a reply from Sungyeol saying, y not now my body is ready. He slips the phone back in his pocket. "You know that's the best way to reach me."
Woohyun scrunches his nose and Myungsoo quickly regrets sneaking a glance. "I wanted to record a video, actually. We never got to post the collaboration video of our duet-"
"The album got an A, by the way." Myungsoo hangs his head low, hoping this hair would cast harsh shadows on his face, but lighting in the subway has never been flattering. Woohyun slowly inches closer and Myungsoo contemplates on modulating his voice, but the warmth Woohyun can provide might make the temperature bearable. "I still haven't thanked you for that so-"
"You're welcome," Woohyun says, voice barely above a whisper. "And I got an A for my album, too. We're even."
Seven stops, six inches, twelve long months between them. Myungsoo can feel the distance weighing down on him like a loss or the look of dissatisfaction on his mother's face or him forgetting to pay for the internet bill and consequently suffering the consequences. He thinks of the past year, how living without Woohyun has molded him into this - Kim Myungsoo, musician and artist, doing gigs at nine in the evening; earning free trading cards and, occasionally, money from event coverages; stronger, wiser, and much more guarded - and takes a deep breath.
Woohyun rests his head on Myungsoo's shoulder and Myungsoo tries not to shiver.
"One battle, just one battle," Woohyun says after a while. "If I win, you'll give me another chance. If I lose, I won't bother you anymore."
They're on the sixth stop and Myungsoo wants to jump off right now, like falling flat on the pavement will make things easier, but his lips betray him when he spills, "Fair enough. Standard OU?" There's a familiar glint in Woohyun's eyes and Woohyun's smiling ear-to-ear and Woohyun's holding his breath. Myungsoo wonders if Woohyun's cheek bones cut living things.
"You know the drill."
The seventh stop. Myungsoo gets up first, and Woohyun follows.
They're silent until they reach Myungsoo's doorstep, and Myungsoo quickly bows and excuses himself, but doesn't forget to thank Woohyun. "For whatever it's worth," he rushes when Woohyun's lips curl up. "Now go, it's getting late."
"No, Myungsoo. Thank you."
Myungsoo closes the door behind him and leans back on the door. He can hear the sound of Woohyun's footsteps fading into the distance. He crouches, pulling his knees close to his chest, and he can feel himself shivering, shaking, fingers cold and breathing ragged. Vulnerable.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The image of Woohyun's smile is still there.
Only the following day, over breakfast and while having a quick chat with Sungyeol on Skype, does Myungsoo realize that they never got to exchange friend codes.
"He'll find a way to get yours if he really wants that second chance," Sungyeol says through a mouthful of cereal. "Besides, your FC's posted all over the internet. Only a stupid person won't be able to track you down."
"He's stupid." A look of excitement quickly surfaces on Myungsoo's lips when he sees the egg hatching, but it disappears behind the coffee mug and after Myunsgoo sees that he didn't get the Pokemon nature he wanted. "And the Pokemon AI is stupid. Why do I keep playing this game?"
Sungyeol shrugs. "Because you're waiting for Prince Charming Nam Woohyun to add you and send a battle request your way?"
"Too early to be having this conversation with you." Myungsoo saves his game and chugs whatever is left of his coffee, then wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "Catch you later. I have an event to go to."
"The gig's still a go, right? I'll be there."
Myungsoo smiles. "Yup. Bring pompoms and cheer for me. Thanks."
Sungyeol's laughter blares through the speakers, seeping through Myungsoo's skin and leaving a prickling sensation in his fingertips. He stares longer than intended, and just shakes his head when Sungyeol sinks in his chair and accidentally topples over his bowl of cereal.
He turns off the router and closes his laptop, then slips it in his drawer.
There are more pressing matters to attend to.
More pressing matters mean Myungsoo covering a small preschool awarding ceremony, one Dongwoo has specifically requested him to attend. "You're the only one I trust when it comes to these things," he remembers Dongwoo saying, and while he tries to not make it apparent, he loves being surrounded by kids. Their shrill and youthful laughter breathes life into his daily routine.
"Why aren't you in costume?" Dongwoo says when Myungsoo arrives at his office's doorstep. "I texted you last night; I told you to come in those cute red shorts-"
"Anything but those, please." Hoya's hand is warm on Myungsoo's shoulders, and Myungsoo mouths a thank you. "And I'm here because this guy can't organize things for shit."
"Language," Dongwoo mumbles, glowering briefly until one of the parents arrives, her son in tow. "And that's my cue. Soo, ten minutes?"
"Ten is good." Myungsoo turns the knob a few times until he gets his desired exposure. "Unless we're all good and we're not waiting for-"
"I'm here, I'm here!" comes a familiar voice from behind. "Bad hair day, sorry. And I spent way too long looking for a costume-"
Woohyun looks... terrible. He's wearing a plaid polo, denim shorts and suspenders, and boat shoes. He even has one of those atrocious colorful hats. Myungsoo briefly contemplates, wondering what went through Hoya's mind when he agreed to have Woohyun as the events agency's partner host. Woohyun is terrible in all aspects of life.
"You're here." Myungsoo clutches his camera close to his chest and taps the shutter release lightly. "Are you stalking me?"
Woohyun doesn't answer but, instead, walks over to where Dongwoo is, asking to be briefed on the flow of the program. Myungsoo can feel his hands shaking, can feel his heart racing in his chest, and the first thing he worries about is not being able to take stable pictures. That's not what he's being paid for.
"And yes, I'm stalking you," Woohyun whispers when he slips behind him, breath hot on the shell of his ear. Myungsoo holds his breath until Woohyun's a good three feet from him, until he feels his hands again and all he can think about is getting his shots right.
To say that Woohyun is good with kids is an understatement; kids love Woohyun. They all have this wide-eyed look and a big grin on their lips when Woohyun calls them in a voice Myungsoo can only describe as sickeningly sweet. After the program, one of the kids walks back to the stage and hugs Woohyun's right leg while saying, "I like him. Umma, can we take him home?" and Woohyun just laughs and bends down to ruffle the girl's hair.
He plants a soft kiss on the girl's forehead and peeks at Myungsoo through his bangs. Myungsoo clicks and clicks and clicks until Woohyun averts his gaze.
The last of the families finally leaves, and Dongwoo slumps in one of the chairs, letting out a relieved sigh. "I'm so done with kids. Heck, I hate kids. Why do I work here again?"
"Because you're a kid," Hoya supplies. He sits down on the chair nearest to Dongwoo and gives Dongwoo's thigh a light squeeze. "Great event, though. Good job."
"You just had to ruin it my patting yourself on the back, didn't you?" Dongwoo's smiling now, too much gums and teeth. Hoya's cackling. Woohyun's laughing even if he isn't part of the conversation. Myungsoo feels compelled to laugh, as well.
They eat at a samgyupsal place nearby. It's Woohyun's favorite place, and even before Dongwoo can offer to pay for whatever they'll be eating, Hoya quickly says, "You, old man, deserve this treat. I'm paying."
Dongwoo is quick to raise his hand and ask for three bottles of soju. Too early to get drunk, Myungsoo wants to say, but Dongwoo's laughing and his eyes are turning into crescents and it's the first time in a while that he's seen his friend like this, void of any trace of fatigue. So he raises his hand and says, "Make that four," just smiles when Hoya gives him an incredulous look.
Woohyun looks at him, stares, and somehow Myungsoo feels the world closing in on him until he sees nothing and nobody else but Woohyun. Dongwoo's cackling is reduced to faint ambient noise and Myungsoo wants to scream, wants to escape, but Woohyun has him trapped. Woohyun's not even touching him.
Woohyun eyes soften and Myungsoo feels a violent breath of life coursing through him, filling his lungs, bringing Dongwoo and Hoya's voices back to normal volume. He clenches and unclenches his fists, and grabs a bottle of soju as soon as one gets served.
He lets the cold seep through his skin. He's back. He's back. Woohyun's back in his life.
He's a bit too buzzed to be heading back to his flat alone, so Woohyun offers to accompany him. He struggles at first, but after tripping on his own foot for the third time on their way to the main road, Myungsoo finally yields. He still maintains a safe distance from Woohyun, but lets Woohyun text his contact in the bar he'll be having a gig in in his behalf, saying, "i'll be late, 30 mins max. sorry i'll make it up to you."
He's spent the past five minutes in the bathroom and Woohyun's reflection is still of the same image - Woohyun's eyes trained on him. Myungsoo splashes more cold water on his face. "Drinking in the afternoon is a bad idea," he mumbles. You're a bad idea is lodged somewhere in his throat.
"Maybe you should beg off tonight? You can't go there drunk."
"Not drunk. Just buzzed." Myungsoo's left the bathroom now, turning around to make his way to his bed. "And I can't. People are expecting me. Can't let them-" Myungsoo feels around for his glasses, but to no avail; he must have stuffed the pair in his bag in a hurry. He grumbles for a while, until Woohyun sits beside him and slips the glasses on him, tucking his hair behind his ears in the process.
Myungsoo scrunches his nose. "Stay away."
"I brought you here and now you're telling me to stay away?"
"Just. Not too close." Myungsoo blinks way too many times for him to count, just so he can keep himself awake, but the pull of alcohol is too strong. He rolls flat on his stomach and looks up briefly, his glasses slipping off his nose as he turns to Woohyun with half-lidded eyes. "Wake me up in thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes - no more, no less."
Myungsoo's face falls back into the pillows even before Woohyun can say, "Got it."
(What happens next is this: Woohyun carefully taking off Myungsoo's glasses and placing it on Myungsoo's beside table; Woohyun throwing a blanket over Myungsoo's curled up figure; Woohyun lying on his side, right arm propped under his head, eyes fixed on Myungsoo; Woohyun just watching. On the twenty-ninth minute, Woohyun gives in and reaches over, running his fingers through Myungsoo's hair until the alarm he's set for Myungsoo sounds off, until Myungsoo stirs and he has to nudge Myungsoo, until he has to snap back to reality.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," he says, tugging at Myungsoo's wrist. Myungsoo only stirs and grunts and shakes his head, saying, don't wanna, and Woohyun takes a deep breath, willing every ounce of self-control to course through his veins and take over him.
"Wake up now," Woohyun repeats, this time louder.
Wake up, Nam Woohyun. Time to do your job.)
Next
- Woohyun/Myungsoo, implied Myungsoo/Sungyeol. NC-17 for brief sexual scenes. 15441 words.
- Myungsoo treats every moment in his life as a Pokemon battle - you win some, you lose some. You also meet someone who you just can't win over and that someone, much to Myungsoo's dismay, is Woohyun.
- The title comes from the Pokemon move Attract, a move that can be learned by levelling up or by TM. (reference). For infinitesanta, originally posted HERE.
- LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES to Chels and Ed for holding my hand as I wrote this fic and for acting as my shock absorber. ♥
i. Fight
"What the-"
Myungsoo grips his DS tight in his hands but makes no effort to wipe off the look of disbelief in his face. He watches as Pikachu sends out bolts of lightning, powering up Electivire in the process, watches as Electivire's speed goes up, as Electivire lands a solid Ice Punch on Venusaur, quickly taking out the latter.
He sends out his Stunfisk and gulps hard.
Three years ago, when he had just started out, he probably wouldn't have minded being owned by a Pikachu, but he is L. Kim, the best online battler Korea has to offer, his only defeat in an online match being the one against Sungyeol - in the 2011 summer video game championships - who had been battling even before he picked up Diamond and Pearl. He's come a long way and he knows the meta game inside-out, and the concept of a Pikachu being used against him in completely unacceptable.
He makes a mental note to build a team around Pikachu later on. He can beat Sungyeol with it, he's fairly certain.
"Man, I've never-" Sungyeol's voice breaks in all the right places, and Myungsoo doesn't look up from his DS, fingers drumming on the keys lightly. There's still a way to win, and it's not by getting distracted.
He chooses "Bulldoze" and takes a deep, deep breath.
Pikachu attacks with another Discharge and Electivire's speed now rests at +2. "Whoa, dude, he's not fucking around," comes Sungyeol's voice, now clearer than ever, and Myungsoo grips his DS tighter. It's another Ice Punch from Electivire, one Stunfisk manages to survive thanks to sleepless nights of defense and special defense training, with some help from a focus sash. Bulldoze kicks in, and Myungsoo watches as the ground shakes and cracks and the shock inflicts damage on the electric types.
He holds his breath as the damage cuts the life points by a quarter, half, the red bar becoming more of a sign of victory with every passing second.
"Did Stunfisk just-"
Myungsoo screams at the top of his lungs, expletives dripping from his lips as he raises his DS in the air. He doesn't notice the final click of the DS when the match ends, or the small voice coming from his DS' speakers, the chuckling, Sungyeol asking for details of how the match eventually panned out because his internet connection kicked him out even before Myungsoo could celebrate the win. Only minutes after does he notice the trade request from the same trainer who has battled him, the image of victory still burning at the back of his eyelids.
Myungsoo rarely ever posts videos of battles revealing his occasionally-mediocre performance and prediction skills, but this is an exception - he finds his hands frantically navigating through the recordings in his DS and sending it to himself for him to time the narration and explain the sneaky yet well-crafted strategy his opponent has employed. It's not entirely embarassing, contrary to Sungyeol's belief; it's thrilling.
He hasn't felt so challenged and fulfilled after winning a battle in so long.
"Can you tell your friend to shut up," comes Sungyeol's voice on Skype. The sound of Sungyeol tapping the keys of his DS furiously seeps through the speakers. Myungsoo turns down the volume a bit; keysmashing sounds always unnerve him. "Your DS keeps sounding off. It's annoying."
Myungsoo looks up briefly, examining the inscrutable look on Sungyeol's face, until a notification pops up on his DS' touch screen; another trade request, this time for a Squirtle. He sends over a Magikarp with perfect IVs in attack, defense, and speed in return. "You're just jealous."
Sungyeol's voice is much clearer now. "Why would I be?"
Myungsoo hears soft mumbling coming from the other end of the trade, and he quickly hits the Mute button before pushing through with the trade - a bold-natured Squirtle, creatively named DEM CANONS!!! He giggles before sending off one last Pokemon, one named heyty, then closes his DS once the trade goes through.
Sungyeol clears his throat. "Do you have a gig tonight?"
"Nah." He slips his DS in his drawer and reaches for his camera bag. Never mind that he's covering the webcam with his chest. "I'm covering something tonight. It's the launch of the new trading card game."
Sungyeol lets out a small sound of approval. "They are paying you cash, right?"
Myungsoo laughs a little. "I told them I accept payment in cash and cards."
Sungyeol grumbles, glares at him through the webcam, then worries his lip. Years ago, Myungsoo would have read into this, would have taken it as Sungyeol actually displaying concern and the late night talks, battles, Skype conversations meaning more, but it's 2013 - he's doing gigs four times a week while waiting for the entertainment companies' scouting season to begin, covering events on the side until the whee hours of the morning. He knows better than to be won over by Sungyeol's sad eyes.
If he ever reconsiders, he only looks up briefly, then looks back down at his feet for fear of going back to square one.
"Need a lightsman?" Sungyeol asks, and Myungsoo simply waves him off, then pulls down the laptop's screen.
The event is in a rather unusual place; who even thinks of launching a Pokemon event in a Hello Kitty cafe? Myungsoo wades his way through the crowd, waves at the organizer - an old friend he met online - then clicks the shutter release on instinct - his camera is almost always turned on.
"I thought it was supposed to be an intimate event?"
Hoya laughs a little. "I wanted to keep it small, but Dongwoo sent out all these invites-"
"To battlers." Myungsoo spots a familiar face - Sungjong, ljongrado on Youtube, a battler who has steadily climbed up the ranks and has secured himself a place in the top-tier group of trainers with this team of unassuming fairy-types. "That guy massacred Haydunn's team with his Slurpuff. He creeps me out."
"He's a sweetie." Hoya gestures at Sungjong, and a smile quickly surfaces on Sungjong's lips. He probably isn't half as daunting as the webcam and poor lighting usually make him seem, but something at the back of Myungsoo's mind harps about the peculiar curve of Sungjong's lips, or the crinkles in his eyes. "Have you two met?"
Sungjong's smile is bright. Dazzling Gleam, Myungsoo notes. The strangest image of Sungjong with Sylveon's bows occurs to him. He tries hard not to burst into laughter.
"L. Kim, right? The biggest advocate of Magikarp in the online community?" Sungjong nods thoughtfully. "You kicked my ass with your Gyarados. I won't forget that battle, back in-"
"Spring VGCs 2011." Myungsoo's fingers dance on the body of his camera. "The quarter-final match. Your Magnezone was pretty amazing."
The light dims, and the spotlight shines on the stage, washing out the backdrop. The host soon steps on the platform, draws the microphone close to his lips, then begins to speak. Myungsoo takes this as his cue, bowing to Sungjong and Hoya to excuse himself, then makes his way through the crowd again, this time much closer to the stage. There's a familiar kind of warmth, like the one he had experienced during his last performance in school, singing a song his father used to share with him to a crowd of students whose minds are fixed only on passing their subjects.
He looks through the viewfinder and draws it closer to his face, his left hand steady, supporting the lens.
The host looks into the lens and Myungsoo freezes.
He knows this face; it's all too familair - the small, perpetually amused look in his eyes, the light curl at the corners of the lips, the high cheekbones, the curve of the neck. The small frame and the pronounced muscles. He knows for sure that he's had several battles with this person before and has lost most of them, knows that this person has disappeared from the face of the Earth for at least a year, and definitely not supposed to be in this Hello Kitty Cafe. His right index finger moves on its own accord, clicking, clicking, clicking until the host blinks and Myungsoo focuses his lens on the host's hands.
The host turns his attention back to his cue cards, then the crowd.
Shit, Myungsoo thinks. It's the 2012 VGCs overall champion, Namwoo.
ii. Bag
Myungsoo started battling online in 2008. Pokemon Diamond and Pearl had just been released then, and it was the first time he'd beaten Sungyeol at anything, calling dibs on Diamond and openly laughing at Sungyeol for having to settle with Pearl, instead. "Yeah, because I'm too busy fussing over my studies and you don't have anything better to do," Sungyeol had said, and Myungsoo dismissed it even before he could come up with a sharp retort - if he'd be able to, at all.
Sungyeol had always been the overachiever, the smart one, the type of son you'd brag about in parties. Sungyeol had set his mind on pursuing a career in medicine while attempting to become a Pokemon master on the side; Myungsoo was an aspiring musician whose attempts at creating the Next Big Hit were nothing short of a Pokerap in the making.
Sungyeol disappeared from the face of the Earth as Myungsoo had known it in 2009. He found out through Sungyeol's mother three weeks after Sungyeol left because, "I think he just didn't know how to say goodbye." It was a pathetic excuse, Myungsoo thought, but there was nothing he could do about it - Sungyeol was miles away and didn't even have the decency to leave him a farewell note and he wasn't even online on Pearl.
It wasn't as if Sungyeol owed him anything, so he replied, "He didn't have to." He balled his fists, then turned to Sungyeol's mother with a sad smile. "We just had to see each other and I'd already know."
Myungsoo made it a point to be online everyday, on every single communications platform available, but none of Sungyeol. There was Sunggyu and Sungjong and Hoya and Dongwoo, but no Sungyeol. Accepting battle requests, he typed in his Youtube channel profile, and hit the Save Changes button even before he could change his mind.
The first time Myungsoo saw Sungyeol since the sudden disappearance was before the 2011 Fall VGCs. The Bat Signal was, "I dropped out of med school"; the response was, "I'll meet you in that ice cream shop in thirty minutes." Myungsoo arrived ten minutes earlier than expected and Sungyeol was already there, respectable in pristine white clothes from head to toe.
There was a stain flaunted on the left side collar of Sungyeol's shirt. "You've got shit on your suit," was the first thing Myungsoo had said, and Sungyeol just shook his head, stretched out his arms and replied with a small smile.
Myungsoo walked over to where Sungyeol was in a rush and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug, something he belatedly regretted when Sungyeol had called him out on being too emotional, overeager, the fakest tough cookie ever.
"You still like me, though," Myungsoo retorted.
"Yeah. Maybe even too much."
The smile on Sungyeol's lips quickly turned into a grin, and he laughed at Myungsoo silly for the next two minutes. Myungsoo sighed in relief; this was Sungyeol, alright.
In the three hours they spent in the ice cream parlor, Sungyeol told him about how tough life as a med student was, that he'd dropped out because med was making him sick both in the head and in the body, that maybe Pokemon was the only thing that kept him sane through all those sleepless nights, that he might have had half the mind to make drunken calls to Myungsoo at the height of his stress as an aspiring medical practitioner.
"Why didn't you?"
"Didn't think you'd pick up." A droplet of ice cream was slipping from the corner of Sungyeol's lips; Myungsoo wanted to reach for a tissue to wipe it off, but clasped his hands together instead. "And I knew you were busy. Didn't want to keep you from your 'muse'."
"It would've been better if you didn't use air quotes." Myungsoo was reckless now; he wiped off the stain with his thumb.
"That's as good as it gets, I'm afraid."
Myungsoo rubbed his thumb on the midsection of Sungyeol's forehead. "I figured."
They spent another hour devising a plan of action for Sungyeol, ten minutes figuring out where to eat next, and five minutes trying to one-up each other by doing a Pokemon battle without their consoles, using only their imagination. Sungyeol won thanks to entry hazards and the poison status on Myungsoo's last Pokemon standing. It wasn't out of luck; Sungyeol deserved to win.
Myungsoo snaked an arm around Sungyeol to pull him closer to the sidewalk, away from danger and closer to him. Sungyeol made no effort to retaliate.
2012 was one of the toughest years of Myungsoo's life. He'd skipped he VGCs the whole year, had bailed out of every family reunion to dedicate his time to his craft and his studies. Their graduation requirement was to create an album of not less than ten songs, all of which self-composed.
"You can't write songs for shit," Sunggyu said, a sad smile pulling down the corner of his lips. Sunggyu had been through this the year before, somehow finished the program unscathed, and had previously assured Myungsoo that he'd do just fine, but Myungsoo was Myungsoo and he hated feeling complacent, like he was bound to miss something of great importance if he closed his eyes longer than the usual. A streak of panic flashed across his features as soon as Myungsoo furrowed his eyebrows. "I mean, if you were to write songs, they'd be good but you've never been good with words and-"
Myungsoo waved him off, replying, "You don't have to play nice, hyung." Then, after a while. "Battle? I'll kick your sorry ass."
Myungsoo was, technically, out of practice, but it wasn't an excuse for his poor performance. His predictions were off and he made a few basic errors, but he won - only by a hairline. Sunggyu's Charizard missed the Fire Blast and Myungsoo's Heracross luckily landed a critical hit with Stone Edge.
"Lucky," he'd said after Sunggyu congratulated him. "I'd be lucky if I get to graduate this year. I... Can you help?"
"I... can't help right now." Sunggyu frowned, apologetic. "I'm pretty swamped with gigs. But I know someone who can?"
Myungsoo looked up, a small smile on his lips. There was a hint of hesitation in Sunggyu's eyes, but then Sunggyu was born with a worried look. "Well, probably. I think he's in the same year as you are. He disappeared for a year." Sunggyu laughed gingerly. "He was supposed to be my thesis partner but-"
"But?"
"Clashing music styles." Sunggyu's eyes had drawn into slits and Myungsoo couldn't read him as quickly anymore. "I think you'll get along just fine, though."
Three days and much fussing after, Sunggyu introduced Myungsoo to Nam Woohyun.
He wasn't that bad; just not entirely good, either. Woohyun was a musician - he made music references every chance he got, and would almost always sing his responses, humming to fill the white noise. He had a plethora of singing awards under his belt, and one for music composition - most creative interpretation of a theme, and said theme was 'the fighter'.
"What they didn't know," Woohyun said in between laughter, "was that I was writing about the epic battle with Red at Mt. Silver." Woohyun's face was now a rich shade of red and there were beads of tears at the corner of his eyes and, "There's no running away now, I have to face my fears. I sing my heart out to wake up the beast that lies within- That's for you, Snorlax!"
Myungsoo took a deep breath. "You play Pokemon?"
Sunggyu smiled a little. Beside him, Woohyun grinned. "It's my life."
Myungsoo stared - more like gaped, really, because he rarely ever met people who were interested in Pokemon, save for those who he had battled with online. Being a fan of the franchise wasn't exactly something people usually take pride in. Pokemon was often viewed as a childish game, something for kids, but Myungsoo knew better.
Pokemon was a story about finding oneself, nourishing the strength within, and meeting people who would later be great allies in thwarting the forces of evil. That, and earning money by beating the crap out of pathetic trainers.
"Are you okay?" Sunggyu asked. No, Myungsoo wanted to reply. No, because I've been hit with Hypnosis and he's draining the fuck out of me with Dream Eater and I have to hang onto my Focus Sash to keep myself in check and-"
"How about you?"
Myungsoo blinked twice. Stop using Pokemon metaphors, said a voice in his mind, like a mantra or a prayer that might save him from drowning. He took a deep breath and smiled, but only a little, carefully parting his lips to reply, "I'm a Pokemon master."
The first few days were spent getting to know each other, memorizing each other's music and battling styles. By the following week, Myungsoo already knew that Woohyun could hardly function properly without the promise of a quick battle at the end of the day. "It's the only way to de-stress," Woohyun had explained, face buried in his hands. Myungsoo could only watch as Woohyun's arms gave away, collapsing on the table as Woohyun's face landed flat on the surface.
"We can do a quick one."
"You make it sound like we're having a quickie."
Nervous laughter escaped Myungsoo's lips abruptly. "Uh. Okay."
"Kidding. C'mon, let's make this quick."
Ten minutes after, they were still playing, tapping furiously at the buttons and yelling Pokemon moves at each other, the promise of another battle ringing brightly in Myungsoo's ears.
A month into knowing each other, Woohyun had somehow convinced Myungsoo that plastering a video of their faces and outtakes of their battles on Youtube was a good idea. It wasn't such a bad endeavor - Myungsoo had gained a good amount of subscribers the first hour the video went live, but he wasn't so comfortable about seeing his face on the internet.
"You narrate your battle videos but don't like to put a face to that voice?" Woohyun scrunched his nose and rolled over, lying flat on his stomach. He'd crumpled some papers along the way, but Myungsoo wasn't worried; those were readings, not music sheets. Music sheets were never taken to bed - that was the rule.
"Unlike you, some people want to remain mysterious online."
"Meh." Woohyun rolled his eyes. "You have a picture of yourself in your profile and you do audio recordings; do you really think you're still mysterious?"
Myungsoo chuckled. Even Sunggyu couldn't argue with him on that; Myungsoo had repeatedly pointed out that moving pictures were different from a still, and that the world was better off not seeing his weird facial expressions.
"I'd love to think I am." Myungsoo turned to Woohyun with a small smile. "But hey, a hundred new subscribers. I think they actually like my face."
"Your face is likeable," Woohyun commented. There was a peculiar smile on the curve of the lip and maybe Woohyun was staring at his lips; if he had his glasses on, he wouldn't have to keep guessing. Lock on. "Very likeable."
"Looks like it. I just got another subscriber."
The thing about Woohyun, Myungsoo stressed, was that he was too touchy even if the situation didn't call for touches and back hugs and an arm around the shoulder. Myungsoo didn't mind the warmth - he didn't get cold easily, but he wasn't accustomed to having something warm draped on his body half the time. In video recordings, Myungsoo would make a conscious effort to maintain a safe distance from Woohyun, but Woohyun would always weasel his way to him, their thighs pressed together, sticky from contact.
"Hey, come closer. You're outside the frame."
"I'm fine here in the corner, thank you very much."
"It's not as if I'll look at your DS while we battle. Come on-"
"I said I'm fine-"
It wasn't that Myungsoo wasn't receptive to touch - he loved hugs in particular - but anything in excess was bad. Woohyun grabbed him by the wrist and he'd somehow ended up getting dragged right next to Woohyun, his DS safe in his hands, his head rested on Woohyun's lap. He could feel his DS slipping from his hands, his fingers now cold, becoming numb. It felt a lot like defeat.
"You comfy there?" Woohyun asked, and Myungsoo just snorted. The last turn of a Sunny Day-boosted Solar Beam. Woohyun winning streak was over.
He got up as soon as he claimed victory over Woohyun, stopped the recording, and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat.
(Myungsoo pressed his palms flat on the counter and closed his eyes, counting to ten. It had been easier to ignore and deny before, but if his heart would keep racing in his chest everytime Woohyun's touch lingered or Woohyun stared at his lips, his efforts would be futile. So he whispered, careful not to let Woohyun hear, "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him," until it was much easier to believe.
"Hey, get your sorry ass here! We need to write!" came Woohyun's voice from the room. Myungsoo took a deep breath.
He needed to write something, and fast.)
So maybe they'd gotten a bit too drunk one time, a bit too reckless. It was Friday and it was vice night and Woohyun thought it would be a great idea to steal one bottle of Bombay Sapphire from the shelf for themselves and lock themselves in a room. Myungsoo thought it was crazy but indulged, anyway, and the next thing he knew he was sprawled on the bed, lying flat on his back with Woohyun straddling him.
"I'm not ready to battle," Myungsoo mumbled.
Woohyun laughed and pinched him in his side. "You have a Blastoise that will knock out my Steelix. You're going to win, no questions asked."
Even before Myungsoo could come up with a retort, Woohyun leaned in and pressed their lips together. The kiss was slow, languid, easy and maybe even lazy until Woohyun licked Myungsoo's upper lip, asking for access. Myungsoo gripped the sheets tight. The image of the Escape button was bright beneath his eyelids but he parted his lips, anyway, letting Woohyun in, catching the bitter tang on the tip of Woohyun's tongue.
Myungsoo hadn't expected Woohyun to be incredibly helpful in composing songs, but Woohyun always seemed to have a melody under his breath and lyrics at the tip of his tongue. On his bad days, Woohyun would be lounging on Myungsoo's couch, music sheets placed neatly, albeit in a pile, on the table nearby; on his better days, they'd be kissing until Myungsoo couldn't keep the words at bay anymore and his hands were itching to write something down that sounded a lot like Woohyun (or would sound good in Woohyun's voice, in Woohyun's distinct tone).
On their best days, they'd be lying flat on their stomachs, two feet from each other, yelling profanities as they tapped the buttons of their DSes madly. Myungsoo would sit up and thrust a fist up in the air with every victory, and Woohyun would rest his hands on Myungsoo's shoulders, slowly guiding him down on the bed as he trailed kisses along the expanse of flesh lining Myungsoo's neck. Woohyun would be thankful for Myungsoo's affinity to threadbare clothing and Woohyun would say, "It's so convenient to be in a tank top," and Myungsoo would let Woohyun slide his hands up his shirt, removing the article of clothing, and plant a soft kiss on his lips.
He would let Woohyun suck him off as he tried to run lyrics in his mind so he wouldn't forget, would let Woohyun finger him until all he could say was Woohyun's name. After the frenzy, Woohyun would nuzzle against him, face to chest, and hum under his breath.
Woohyun would get up early the morning after and make breakfast - nothing fancy; anything edible that can be made from Myungsoo's meager stash of food - and Myungsoo would catch him scribbling lyrics on scratch paper because he knew that Myungsoo's notebooks were sacred and must not be touched.
"I'll make coffee," Myungsoo would say, and Woohyun would nod and save his advances for later, after lunch, once they've already had enough coffee and time to write. Rinse and repeat until the day had already ended. A nice, soothing backing track for everyday living.
can't drop by 2day, Woohyun said over text one time. sry just hv 2 concentrate and finish mastering d title track i'll make it up 2 u babe
Myungsoo glossed over the message and typed a short yet teasing reply, saying, oh so you're saying i'm a distraction? ok got it kekeke. He was expecting a plethora of smileys from Woohyun or possibly even a simple, straightforward oh fuck u, to which he was prepared to reply, but you're there and i'm here, but none of those. He counted to ten - ten was a good number, ten was the number of seconds it normally took for Woohyun to react to things - but his screen didn't light up. So he counted another ten, and another, and another.
Ten minutes had already passed and Woohyun still hadn't replied. Myungsoo diverted his attention to the album he was developing, convinced that burrying oneself in work was the best way to recalibrate himself until a particular song came up - the hidden track, a duet between him and Woohyun.
He went to the previous track and added some beats a second layer of vocals, this time lower, and nodded thoughtfully as he finished remastering the track.
He skipped the duet track and started working on the last track. It was a song about triumph and glory, about conquering the world.
It was a song about the greatest match he had ever had the chance of being part of, one he fought alongside Woohyun.
hey woo?
mm
we're good right?
A week since the last time they wrote songs together and Myungsoo was worrying about Woohyun's album more than anything else. Myungsoo's was nearing completion - only the cover art was missing, and he was still debating with Dongwoo about the logic behind making use of an image of a broken heart when the album was, in fact, about powering through life and facing challenges head-on - and Woohyun's progress on the album was a perfectly reflection of the state of his mind.
asked on skype and he said he was already done, Hoya offered when Myungsoo finally decided to seek the help of a friend.
that's good, was Myungsoo's curt reply. At the back of his mind, a response was waiting to be thrown out in the air - then what's keeping him from coming back?
"I can explain," was Sunggyu's opening statement when he asked Myungsoo to grab a cup of coffee and catch up. His face was void of the usual bright smile and eyes; he looked tired. "I never explained how Woohyun and I drifted apart, did I?"
"You looked as if you didn't want to talk about it." Myungsoo drummed his fingers on the table. Appetizer was being served, but he felt like skipping to the main course.
Sunggyu looked up at Myungsoo, lips parted, no sound slipping from them. He closed his mouth, opened it again, but this time with more resolution and the promise of an actual explanation in the way his jaw hung open, poised for a speech.
"We had something in the past, Woohyun and I." Sunggyu took a bunch of the sauteed bean sprouts; Woohyun liked those. "We weren't just thesis partners. We were... more."
"Lovers."
"Hardly. We never even made music together. At best, we were-"
"Fuck buddies," Myungsoo finished, voice dropping to a whisper.
Sunggyu laid the chopsticks flat on the plate and looked up, meeting Myungsoo's eyes for the first time. "I'm sorry, I... wasn't able to warn you."
Myungsoo took a deep breath, then reached for the plate of kimchi opposite him. Thoughts of Woohyun flashed in his mind, right before his eyes - Woohyun staying the night in Myungsoo's flat, spending midnights writing songs that could pass as anime themes on the scratch papers lying around Myungsoo's house, Woohyun always cooking breakfast and leaving sticky notes next to the pot of coffee, lyrics written on the tiny sheet of paper.
The first time they actually did it was halfway through the term, after Woohyun finished writing the ninth track on the album. "A new way of celebrating," Myungsoo remembered Woohyun saying, and mindlessly followed, still high from the midterm rush and having the first five tracks of his albums approved by his thesis adviser.
"We made music. We wrote a lot of songs together. I don't understand-"
He had to stuff a piece of kimchi in his mouth to keep himself from saying more.
"He withdraws from the world when he feels himself getting too attached. He hates being vulnerable." Sunggyu took a piece of tofu and poked it several times before eating it. "Notice that he's always the one making the first move, but he's also the first to pull away."
"Not when he's with me, he isn't." Myungsoo chuckled. "I guess between the two of us, I was more allergic to attachments."
"I'm allergic to Woohyun," Sunggyu commented. The smile that was on his lips had subsided. "But I thought he'd do your music career well, so&dmash;"
"Hey, hyung." Myungsoo clasped a hand on Sunggyu's and tried his best to smile, but then smiling had never been a talent of his. "It's not your fault."
Sunggyu let out a dissatisfied exhale, then turned to Myungsoo, squeezing his hand in the process. "Welcome to the club, then?" he said, laughing a little as he ended.
"Welcome to the club, indeed."
iii. Pokemon
"Leaving so early?"
Myungsoo looks up to meet Hoya's eyes and supply a short explanation, all while placing his camera in his bag. "I'm done for the night," he replies, then cocks his head in the direction of the busy gamers. "Can't compete with these kids. I'm too old to stay up late. Besides, I have another event tomorrow morning so-"
"I won't let you run away from this."
Myungsoo zip up his bag and heaves a sigh. "You know about this?"
"Duh." Hoya snatches his bag and heads backstage, then reemerges with empty hands and a raised eyebrow. "So, how many pictures of him did you take-"
Myungsoo cackles, laughs, letting out all the air in his chest. It's the first time he's laughed since seeing Woohyun's face for the first time in a a year. Woohyun is still Woohyun - there's still the peculiar curl of the lip when he smiles and the clean crinkles in the corner of his eyes when he squints. His hands are still donned with stress, veins prominent on the surface. And he sounds the same. Or maybe Myungsoo's just tricking himself into thinking that nothing has changed.
Shivers run down his spine when he catches Woohyun looking at him from three tables away. Woohyun is winning, one damage counter away from claiming victory, five meters from where Myungsoo is. Another flash of shivers, a line of fear shooting through his veins. Acrophobia haunting him at the age of twenty one.
"Just enough," he replies. There's a hint of an apology in Hoya's eyes. "Hey, I'm a professional. I don't mix work with other shit."
Hoya cackles, eyes bright at the seams. "Yeah, but you mix school with- Okay, not going there."
He's known Hoya for close to three years now. He remembers meeting Hoya in the Smogon forums, sharing his unabashed love for Abomasnow and the automatic hailstorm weather that goes on forever. Hoya was there when Sungyeol wasn't, when Sunggyu was much too busy with graduation requirements and participating, when Woohyun had disappeared without notice.
"You already did."
Hoya shrugs. "Eh. Couldn't help it." A mild squint of the eyes, and then, "He's coming."
Myungsoo flinches when a warm hand rests on his shoulder, anyway. Hoya's greeting blares in Myungsoo's ears, loud enough to drown out the unintelligible noises he makes. "Thanks for agreeing to host on such short notice," Hoya says, smile bright and unwavering.
Myungsoo turns around slowly and wears his best smile, but Woohyun's smile rivals his. It makes him choke on his own spit, makes his chest constrict and words get lodged at his throat and he can only manage to gape in response to Woohyun's warm greeting.
He's never been good at hellos.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Woohyun says. He squeezes Myungsoo's arm lightly.
"I wish I didn't have to," Myungsoo quickly says, sharp and laden with regret, especially when Woohyun briefly furrows his eyebrows in retaliation.
Hoya excuses himself and briefly squeezes Myungsoo's arm before leaving.
Myungsoo stares at the distance between him and Woohyun - just a few inches; it could have been much shorter a year back - at Woohyun's hands, veins pronounced on the surface, at Woohyun's face that's lit up by a smile.
"I knew you'd say that."
Myungsoo scoffs. "Then go now. Or should I be the first to leave this time since you-"
Woohyun grabs him by the wrist and pulls him closer. He can feel his pulse quickening, can feel the cold of Woohyun's fingers prick his skin, sending shivers down his spine. "I can explain. I'll take you home," Woohyun whispers in his ear, so soft that Myungsoo hardly catches any of it, but Woohyun is Woohyun and Myungsoo still has his voice memorized at the back of his mind.
"I prefer taking the long route. And walking."
Woohyun beams. "Awesome. I love walking, too."
Myungsoo hauls his bag over his shoulder and walks ahead, doesn't look over his shoulder to check if Woohyun follows because he knows Woohyun will, and the only time Woohyun hasn't kept his promise was when he said, via text, i'll make it up 2 u babe.
Myungsoo sneaks a glance when he walks past the door, down the stairs, when he attempts to walk away. Woohyun's smile glimmers.
"I was scared, that's why I left," Woohyun says out of the blue, ten minutes into the walk. "I wanted to be an idol and I knew I couldn't risk breaking the norm if I was going to pursue that path. So I left."
That's not the issue, Myungsoo wants to say, but instead he hums, unsympathetic, monotonous and barely above a whisper. He stares at his feet, then at Woohyun's own. Their steps fall into sync after a while. They pass the playground nearby and Myungsoo thinks, he could probably pull the same trick and leave without warning. He's not tired enough for a confrontation like this.
"No texts, no calls, no messages - nothing. You could have died and we wouldn't have known."
Woohyun scoffs. "If I died, the whole world would know. I'm pretty famous. Remember, I'm the reason why you're famous on Youtube, not your apparent lack of skill."
"I'm still one VGC title better than you," Myungsoo retorts. He tries to fight the smile creeping to his lips but it's dark, anyway, so he lets it slip until they pass a streetlamp and Woohyun looks his way.
"I still have more subscribers on Youtube." Laughter, then, "Suck it."
Woohyun's idea of explaining everything is five minutes' worth of word vomit and nervous laughter and giggling in between Myungsoo's snide remarks. The concept of forgiveness still eludes Myungsoo, so the best he can offer is a small smile when they reach the train station. If Myungsoo remembers corrently, Woohyun's supposed to be heading west, but Woohyun hops on the same train as he does.
The airconditioning is set too low and there's too much space. Myungsoo sits a few good feet from Woohyun and texts Sungyeol, skype in 10 mins pls.
"I've been looking for you, you know," Woohyun says after a while. "Been tracking you down for months but you hardly ever update your Facebook account and you don't tweet and-"
"Youtube. You could have messaged me on Youtube." Myungsoo's phone buzzes - it's a reply from Sungyeol saying, y not now my body is ready. He slips the phone back in his pocket. "You know that's the best way to reach me."
Woohyun scrunches his nose and Myungsoo quickly regrets sneaking a glance. "I wanted to record a video, actually. We never got to post the collaboration video of our duet-"
"The album got an A, by the way." Myungsoo hangs his head low, hoping this hair would cast harsh shadows on his face, but lighting in the subway has never been flattering. Woohyun slowly inches closer and Myungsoo contemplates on modulating his voice, but the warmth Woohyun can provide might make the temperature bearable. "I still haven't thanked you for that so-"
"You're welcome," Woohyun says, voice barely above a whisper. "And I got an A for my album, too. We're even."
Seven stops, six inches, twelve long months between them. Myungsoo can feel the distance weighing down on him like a loss or the look of dissatisfaction on his mother's face or him forgetting to pay for the internet bill and consequently suffering the consequences. He thinks of the past year, how living without Woohyun has molded him into this - Kim Myungsoo, musician and artist, doing gigs at nine in the evening; earning free trading cards and, occasionally, money from event coverages; stronger, wiser, and much more guarded - and takes a deep breath.
Woohyun rests his head on Myungsoo's shoulder and Myungsoo tries not to shiver.
"One battle, just one battle," Woohyun says after a while. "If I win, you'll give me another chance. If I lose, I won't bother you anymore."
They're on the sixth stop and Myungsoo wants to jump off right now, like falling flat on the pavement will make things easier, but his lips betray him when he spills, "Fair enough. Standard OU?" There's a familiar glint in Woohyun's eyes and Woohyun's smiling ear-to-ear and Woohyun's holding his breath. Myungsoo wonders if Woohyun's cheek bones cut living things.
"You know the drill."
The seventh stop. Myungsoo gets up first, and Woohyun follows.
They're silent until they reach Myungsoo's doorstep, and Myungsoo quickly bows and excuses himself, but doesn't forget to thank Woohyun. "For whatever it's worth," he rushes when Woohyun's lips curl up. "Now go, it's getting late."
"No, Myungsoo. Thank you."
Myungsoo closes the door behind him and leans back on the door. He can hear the sound of Woohyun's footsteps fading into the distance. He crouches, pulling his knees close to his chest, and he can feel himself shivering, shaking, fingers cold and breathing ragged. Vulnerable.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The image of Woohyun's smile is still there.
Only the following day, over breakfast and while having a quick chat with Sungyeol on Skype, does Myungsoo realize that they never got to exchange friend codes.
"He'll find a way to get yours if he really wants that second chance," Sungyeol says through a mouthful of cereal. "Besides, your FC's posted all over the internet. Only a stupid person won't be able to track you down."
"He's stupid." A look of excitement quickly surfaces on Myungsoo's lips when he sees the egg hatching, but it disappears behind the coffee mug and after Myunsgoo sees that he didn't get the Pokemon nature he wanted. "And the Pokemon AI is stupid. Why do I keep playing this game?"
Sungyeol shrugs. "Because you're waiting for Prince Charming Nam Woohyun to add you and send a battle request your way?"
"Too early to be having this conversation with you." Myungsoo saves his game and chugs whatever is left of his coffee, then wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "Catch you later. I have an event to go to."
"The gig's still a go, right? I'll be there."
Myungsoo smiles. "Yup. Bring pompoms and cheer for me. Thanks."
Sungyeol's laughter blares through the speakers, seeping through Myungsoo's skin and leaving a prickling sensation in his fingertips. He stares longer than intended, and just shakes his head when Sungyeol sinks in his chair and accidentally topples over his bowl of cereal.
He turns off the router and closes his laptop, then slips it in his drawer.
There are more pressing matters to attend to.
More pressing matters mean Myungsoo covering a small preschool awarding ceremony, one Dongwoo has specifically requested him to attend. "You're the only one I trust when it comes to these things," he remembers Dongwoo saying, and while he tries to not make it apparent, he loves being surrounded by kids. Their shrill and youthful laughter breathes life into his daily routine.
"Why aren't you in costume?" Dongwoo says when Myungsoo arrives at his office's doorstep. "I texted you last night; I told you to come in those cute red shorts-"
"Anything but those, please." Hoya's hand is warm on Myungsoo's shoulders, and Myungsoo mouths a thank you. "And I'm here because this guy can't organize things for shit."
"Language," Dongwoo mumbles, glowering briefly until one of the parents arrives, her son in tow. "And that's my cue. Soo, ten minutes?"
"Ten is good." Myungsoo turns the knob a few times until he gets his desired exposure. "Unless we're all good and we're not waiting for-"
"I'm here, I'm here!" comes a familiar voice from behind. "Bad hair day, sorry. And I spent way too long looking for a costume-"
Woohyun looks... terrible. He's wearing a plaid polo, denim shorts and suspenders, and boat shoes. He even has one of those atrocious colorful hats. Myungsoo briefly contemplates, wondering what went through Hoya's mind when he agreed to have Woohyun as the events agency's partner host. Woohyun is terrible in all aspects of life.
"You're here." Myungsoo clutches his camera close to his chest and taps the shutter release lightly. "Are you stalking me?"
Woohyun doesn't answer but, instead, walks over to where Dongwoo is, asking to be briefed on the flow of the program. Myungsoo can feel his hands shaking, can feel his heart racing in his chest, and the first thing he worries about is not being able to take stable pictures. That's not what he's being paid for.
"And yes, I'm stalking you," Woohyun whispers when he slips behind him, breath hot on the shell of his ear. Myungsoo holds his breath until Woohyun's a good three feet from him, until he feels his hands again and all he can think about is getting his shots right.
To say that Woohyun is good with kids is an understatement; kids love Woohyun. They all have this wide-eyed look and a big grin on their lips when Woohyun calls them in a voice Myungsoo can only describe as sickeningly sweet. After the program, one of the kids walks back to the stage and hugs Woohyun's right leg while saying, "I like him. Umma, can we take him home?" and Woohyun just laughs and bends down to ruffle the girl's hair.
He plants a soft kiss on the girl's forehead and peeks at Myungsoo through his bangs. Myungsoo clicks and clicks and clicks until Woohyun averts his gaze.
The last of the families finally leaves, and Dongwoo slumps in one of the chairs, letting out a relieved sigh. "I'm so done with kids. Heck, I hate kids. Why do I work here again?"
"Because you're a kid," Hoya supplies. He sits down on the chair nearest to Dongwoo and gives Dongwoo's thigh a light squeeze. "Great event, though. Good job."
"You just had to ruin it my patting yourself on the back, didn't you?" Dongwoo's smiling now, too much gums and teeth. Hoya's cackling. Woohyun's laughing even if he isn't part of the conversation. Myungsoo feels compelled to laugh, as well.
They eat at a samgyupsal place nearby. It's Woohyun's favorite place, and even before Dongwoo can offer to pay for whatever they'll be eating, Hoya quickly says, "You, old man, deserve this treat. I'm paying."
Dongwoo is quick to raise his hand and ask for three bottles of soju. Too early to get drunk, Myungsoo wants to say, but Dongwoo's laughing and his eyes are turning into crescents and it's the first time in a while that he's seen his friend like this, void of any trace of fatigue. So he raises his hand and says, "Make that four," just smiles when Hoya gives him an incredulous look.
Woohyun looks at him, stares, and somehow Myungsoo feels the world closing in on him until he sees nothing and nobody else but Woohyun. Dongwoo's cackling is reduced to faint ambient noise and Myungsoo wants to scream, wants to escape, but Woohyun has him trapped. Woohyun's not even touching him.
Woohyun eyes soften and Myungsoo feels a violent breath of life coursing through him, filling his lungs, bringing Dongwoo and Hoya's voices back to normal volume. He clenches and unclenches his fists, and grabs a bottle of soju as soon as one gets served.
He lets the cold seep through his skin. He's back. He's back. Woohyun's back in his life.
He's a bit too buzzed to be heading back to his flat alone, so Woohyun offers to accompany him. He struggles at first, but after tripping on his own foot for the third time on their way to the main road, Myungsoo finally yields. He still maintains a safe distance from Woohyun, but lets Woohyun text his contact in the bar he'll be having a gig in in his behalf, saying, "i'll be late, 30 mins max. sorry i'll make it up to you."
He's spent the past five minutes in the bathroom and Woohyun's reflection is still of the same image - Woohyun's eyes trained on him. Myungsoo splashes more cold water on his face. "Drinking in the afternoon is a bad idea," he mumbles. You're a bad idea is lodged somewhere in his throat.
"Maybe you should beg off tonight? You can't go there drunk."
"Not drunk. Just buzzed." Myungsoo's left the bathroom now, turning around to make his way to his bed. "And I can't. People are expecting me. Can't let them-" Myungsoo feels around for his glasses, but to no avail; he must have stuffed the pair in his bag in a hurry. He grumbles for a while, until Woohyun sits beside him and slips the glasses on him, tucking his hair behind his ears in the process.
Myungsoo scrunches his nose. "Stay away."
"I brought you here and now you're telling me to stay away?"
"Just. Not too close." Myungsoo blinks way too many times for him to count, just so he can keep himself awake, but the pull of alcohol is too strong. He rolls flat on his stomach and looks up briefly, his glasses slipping off his nose as he turns to Woohyun with half-lidded eyes. "Wake me up in thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes - no more, no less."
Myungsoo's face falls back into the pillows even before Woohyun can say, "Got it."
(What happens next is this: Woohyun carefully taking off Myungsoo's glasses and placing it on Myungsoo's beside table; Woohyun throwing a blanket over Myungsoo's curled up figure; Woohyun lying on his side, right arm propped under his head, eyes fixed on Myungsoo; Woohyun just watching. On the twenty-ninth minute, Woohyun gives in and reaches over, running his fingers through Myungsoo's hair until the alarm he's set for Myungsoo sounds off, until Myungsoo stirs and he has to nudge Myungsoo, until he has to snap back to reality.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," he says, tugging at Myungsoo's wrist. Myungsoo only stirs and grunts and shakes his head, saying, don't wanna, and Woohyun takes a deep breath, willing every ounce of self-control to course through his veins and take over him.
"Wake up now," Woohyun repeats, this time louder.
Wake up, Nam Woohyun. Time to do your job.)
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