How (not) to Deal
Title: How (not) to Deal
Character/Pairing: hinted(potential)one-sided!MyungGyu, broken!WooGyu
Rating: PG-15 (for mature themes)
Genre: Angst
.
Sunggyu swallows, his dry throat raw and his eyes burnt out. He feels like shit and what he can make through his blurry vision is a very disgusted version of himself. The shattered mirror is still against the wall, several pieces missing but the biggest portion still standing, cracked. He hasn’t shaved in days, hasn’t bothered to shower in days and he’s an absolute dirty mess.
His living room is ugly, empty bottles and cans littering the table and spilling onto the ground. There are Styrofoam containers pushed to the side along with the plastic forks and spoons and disposable wooden chopsticks, and discarded napkins decorate the mess.
Sunggyu hears the knock on the door as it echoes clear in the empty apartment, but he doesn’t bother to move. He’s leaning against his couch, the couch itself in too much of a mess and he doesn’t have the energy to move the things to take a seat. The ground is just fine.
The knocking gets louder but Sunggyu merely continues to stare at the broken mirror. It’s showing a jarred image of himself, an ugly image with the right cracks in all the right places.
“Hyung! I know you’re in there! It’s me, again.” Another rap on the wooden door before it goes silent, and Sunggyu figures that the younger male gave up and left. He barely hears the next words but the apartment is empty so the muffled voice filters quietly across the space. “I’m worried about you, hyung.”
Sunggyu doesn’t know how long he stares at his cracked reflection, but by now Myungsoo is gone so Sunggyu merely reaches for another bottle.
.
When the doorbell rings signaling that his delivery has arrived, Sunggyu’s eyes go wide when he opens the door to a stone-faced Myungsoo. The younger male looks him over, the anger in his gaze flitting to concern and Sunggyu feels like he’s being scrutinized. There’s a plastic bag in Myungsoo’s hand, obvious evidence that he had intercepted the delivery man and paid himself.
Myungsoo pushes his way past him and Sunggyu lets him, slowly closing the door behind them and lingering by the entrance longer than needed. His eyelids fall shut when Myungsoo’s angry voice reaches his ears.
“Hyung, what the fuck?”
Sunggyu’s hand is still resting on the doorknob and his feet feel like lead. He just doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to hear. He wants to be anywhere but right here.
“Hyung.”
The voice is so much closer that Sunggyu’s eyes spring open, the shadow against the door in front of him too big to just be his. The older male turns to find Myungsoo facing him, worry lines wrinkling a too beautiful face, eyes with no hint of their regular mirth and lips tugging down at the corners. It’s a face Sunggyu doesn’t want his friend to be making.
“Hyung,” Myungsoo says again, softly, even though they’re the only ones in the apartment (the emptiness reminds him of what’s gone, over and over again).
Sunggyu doesn’t want the younger boy to worry, hates it when he’s the cause and Sunggyu feels like shit, inside and out. “Sorry,” he croaks. His voice is raw and unused.
Sunggyu lets Myungsoo guide him to his bathroom, and Myungsoo helps him peel the clothes off his body. There’s nothing sensual about the experience, more like a pathetic toddler who’s having troubles taking off his own clothes. Myungsoo stops at his boxers and goes to turn on the water to make sure it’s a nice temperature. He mutters something about making real food, curling the corner of his lip in a smile with no humor before quietly shutting the door behind him as he leaves.
It’s hot but not scalding, and Sunggyu brings his face up towards the shower head and lets it run down his body. His mouth is parted so he can breathe, droplets scattering every time he blinks. The water does nothing to restore his energy (nothing to wash away the emotions), but it does wonders to his outer appearance. When he steps out of the bathroom, steam rolling out in waves as hot air meets cold, Myungsoo is still in his kitchen, the stove light outlining his figure.
Sunggyu towels his hair dry in slow motions, his eyes on the organized mess of his living room. The bottles and cans are all together on the side, and the Styrofoam containers and napkins are now gone. The mirror is still there, but the picture frame that was smashed on the ground now lies face down on the cabinet.
He walks over, tentative hand reaching for the frame as he slowly brings it towards him. Two boys are grinning, teeth flashing and eyes crinkled. Sunggyu had amber hair at the time, and Woohyun’s hair was a chocolate brown, messy and stopping at his eyebrows.
“Hyung.”
Sunggyu blinks and quickly snaps the frame back down, turning to see Myungsoo watching him, gaze directed at his hand. Sunggyu pulls it away from the cabinet almost as if he’s self-conscious, eyes directed anywhere but at the boy in front of him (he hates worrying Myungsoo).
“We should eat before it gets cold.”
.
Myungsoo raps on the door with his free hand for the third time, exhaling “Hyung, open up, please,” and then thudding against the wooden fixture with a fist. There are groceries in his left hand and his bag has the quizzes that Sunggyu should have picked up that morning.
Myungsoo hears shuffling before the door opens and Sunggyu blinks bleary eyed at him. Myungsoo attempts a smile despite the smell of beer, lifting the plastic bag like a ticket for entry. The older male sighs and backs up to let him in. No matter how many times he comes, the living room is still a mess of bottles and cans but there are papers now, a small stack split in two on the coffee table.
“Hyung, you’re marking while you drink?”
Sunggyu snorts under his breath as he passes him to drop onto the couch. “I’m still a grad student, and I still have duties as a TA.”
His eyes are hard and bloodshot and his voice is still strained, but Myungsoo sees the pen in his hands and the markings on the assignments he’s already done grading.
“Hyung, when’s the last time you ate?”
Sunggyu’s hand stills for a split second before he scribbles a check mark and moves on to the next paper.
“Hyung,” Myungsoo insists and his heart feels heavy as he watches the grad student continue his work on the couch.
The pain is still there but Sunggyu is, above all else, a responsible person so the short absence he had was as far as he was going to take it. Sunggyu attends class, according to Dongwoo, and goes to the tutorials he’s responsible for. But that’s it. Myungsoo doesn’t see him in the music building or his favorite café down the street, doesn’t see him during practices for the guitar orchestra or in the recording studio where he was trying his hand at producing-Myungsoo doesn’t see him anywhere.
Myungsoo notices a pack of cigarettes tucked between some papers a few hours later when they’ve finished dinner (Myungsoo had to practically force Sunggyu to eat) and he frowns.
“Go home, Myungsoo.”
“Hyung-”
Sunggyu is already pushing him out the door, shoving his bag into his hand and by the time Myungsoo realizes he’s at the door and Sunggyu looks ready to shut it in his face.
“Hyung-”
“Thanks, Myungsoo-ah. But you should go home, you have your own studies to worry about, okay?”
Sunggyu’s face is blank, eyes empty and tinged with red and Myungsoo can see the older male’s grip tighten on the doorframe.
“Good night, kiddo.”
The door shuts before Myungsoo can get a word in. He listens as footsteps move away from the door and then he can hear the knocking of bottles together, and Myungsoo can’t help but sigh.
.
Myungsoo looks mournfully at his cell phone, the screen telling him that he has no new messages. His guitar is in its case and against his back and the rest of the students of the guitar orchestra have long filed out. Myungsoo made up an excuse when Sunggyu was asked for, fibbing out grad work and papers to grade. It would normally be true but how Myungsoo wished it were the case.
Myungsoo looks up to catch navy hair in the sea of students and he quickly stashes his phone in his pocket and dashes down the stone steps. The boy looks up and stops and Myungsoo is saved from shouting.
“Myungsoo.”
“Hyung,” Myungsoo says as he catches his breath. He ran automatically and totally forgot he had a guitar slung on his back.
“Hey. Practise?” Dongwoo asks, gesturing to the guitar case and Myungsoo nods. A solemn expression that doesn’t particularly suit Dongwoo’s face appears and his eyes settle on Myungsoo’s. “Did Sunggyu-hyung go?”
Myungsoo shakes his head and mirrors the older boy, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “Did he go to class?”
“Yeah,” Dongwoo replies with a small nod. “Got there late, barely cracked a smile, left right when the Prof stopped lecturing.”
Myungsoo’s eyes are downcast and he sighs. “Thanks, hyung,” he says with a small smile. He’s grateful, even if he’s not really showing it.
“Myungsoo-ah.” Myungsoo stops in mid-turn and looks back. Dongwoo looks like he’s contemplated something but instead lets out a small smile of his own. “Nevermind. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Myungsoo knows that Dongwoo’s extending that help, and he nods his thanks.
He makes it all the way to his place before his phone rings, and his eyes widen and he immediately shoves the cell to his hear.
“Hyung?”
“Myungsoo-ah...”
Myungsoo tenses at the sing-song voice and he can hear a faded beat pounding in the background. It’s not loud enough for him not to hear Sunggyu, but it’s there and Myungsoo is trying to focus on Sunggyu while scrambling to unlock his door as fast as he can.
“Hyung, where are you?”
“Myungsoo-ah...”
The door swings open and Myungsoo drops the strap of his case from his shoulder the crook of his elbow before quickly setting it on the floor. The giggly tone is still present and Myungsoo can hear Sunggyu hiccup on the other end of the line.
“Hyung, where are you?” he repeats, throwing his school bag on the ground and turning right back around to lock his door.
“Myungsoo-ah, you-” Something cuts the older boy off and Myungsoo can hear mumbling and then more giggling before Sunggyu’s voice comes back through. “Myungsoo-ah, did you know you make good ramen?”
Myungsoo suppresses the urge to growl as he flies down the staircase, pushing out the exit door with so much force he almost slams it back against the brick wall despite the heaviness of the door. He’s walking aimlessly now down the streets, names of bars and clubs running through his mind.
“Where are you?” he says tersely, his grip unconsciously tightening on his phone.
“Myungsoo-ah, I hate him.” Myungsoo pauses in his steps and swallows, his eyes unfocusing (willingly staring at nothing). “Myungsoo-ah, don’t you hate him too?”
“Yes,” he mutters under his breath, not completely into the phone.
“Did you say something? You should speak up, I can’t hear you.”
Sunggyu’s lisp is evident now and Myungsoo looks up at the street names above him. “Hyung, where are you?”
“Myungsoo-ah-”
“Where are you?” he repeats at an octave where passersby shoot him looks.
“Yah,” it’s loud and the playful tone temporarily disappears, “Watch it, kid.”
Myungsoo exhales and his thumb and forefinger come up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath and decides on a different approach. “Hyung, how am I supposed to come drink with you if I don’t know where you are?”
“Oh, you’re right, Myungsoo-ah. You’re so smart. Let me go find out.”
Myungsoo is seething, and as soon as a name slips out of the older boy’s lips he’s off, racing down the street and dodging pedestrians and red lights. The bar is particularly loud for this time of day. It’s only evening yet it’s busy and Myungsoo figures it’s the alcohol promotion for the day.
He makes his way to where Sunggyu is smiling at him, eyes disappearing as he tips a shot at him and then downs it in one go. Myungsoo can see the glow of the young man’s cheeks even in the dim light.
“Hyung-”
“Myungsoo-ah! What took you so long?”
Sunggyu leans forward off the stool to give him a hug and practically falls on top of him, and Myungsoo has to help him back onto his seat.
“Hyung-”
“Myungsoo-ah, it’s all my fault.”
Myungsoo backtracks in alarm and he looks over, but Sunggyu isn’t looking at him. Sunggyu is staring at the empty glass in his hands, arms on the counter. “Hyung, it’s not your fault.”
Sunggyu shakes his head a little too wildly and then raises a finger as if he’s about to point something about before it falls back to the countertop. “There must be something wrong with me. What’s wrong with me, Myungsoo-ah?”
Sunggyu suddenly looks up and tries to flag down the bartender with the empty glass in his hand and Myungsoo quickly intervenes. It takes all the tricks in his book to convince Sunggyu to leave the bar, because somehow even heavily intoxicated the older boy can come up with a millions reasons to stay, or stray off topic.
Myungsoo doesn’t quite trust Sunggyu alone so he stays in Sunggyu’s apartment once he’s hulled the older boy into his bed. The place has gotten messy again, several empty bottles restacking the coffee table. Myungsoo cleans up and tosses the clothes that are scattered on the floor together into a pile. He stops at a particular sweatshirt that Myungsoo knows belongs to Woohyun and debates whether or not to put it in the same pile, or throw it out completely. It’s Woohyun’s, but it might also be Sunggyu’s, so Myungsoo sighs and doesn’t give it another glance.
.
Sunggyu has his phone in one hand, other hand lingering by an open beer bottle. He isn’t sure how he did it but he’s somehow in his gallery, pictures of Woohyun reflecting on his screen. Woohyun laughing, Woohyun grinning, Woohyun in female hanbok when he had lost a bet, Woohyun throwing a peace sign with a cheesy smile, Sunggyu in the background with Woohyun’s face a little too close to the camera. Sunggyu loves him but really, he should hate him, right?
There’s something that bubbles in his chest before his face contorts in anger, and Sunggyu hurls his phone across the room. It hits the wall with a thud and lands on the ground with a clatter. It’s probably dented or scratched but it’s a smartphone and it’s still in one piece. Sunggyu grabs the beer and chugs it before he grabs another bottle and downs a second, and a third, and a fourth until the bitter taste is coating the inside of his mouth.
He can feel it, like a knife carving teasingly in his heart as it bleeds crimson. His chest is about to explode, his head is fucking mess and Sunggyu thinks he needs another drink. He can still think. He can still feel, and he doesn’t want to feel anything.
He hates him, yet he loves him. Sunggyu hates that he loves him.
Still.
.
Myungsoo is startled at the loud knocking at his door and when he opens it, a body almost falls forward before its hand catches the doorframe and Myungsoo’s hit with the smell of alcohol. Sunggyu’s eyes are slits as he blinks up at him before something similar to a smile cracks the older boy’s lips.
“Myungsoo-ah…”
“Hyung, I’ve been calling you. How come you didn’t pick up?” Myungsoo says instead, helping the older boy into his apartment and kicking the door shut.
“Calling? Oh.” Sunggyu waves his hand sloppily behind his shoulder. “I broke my phone. I think. Smartphones are really hard to break, did you know that?”
Sunggyu collapses on his couch, and Myungsoo eyes his hyung before sighing out, “I should get you water.”
Sunggyu catches his wrist before he can move and there’s a slight tug (like a timid five year old). “I can’t forget about him, Myungsoo-ah.”
Myungsoo takes a mental step back at the tears that are sliding down Sunggyu’s cheeks. In all the years he’s known the older male, he’s never seen him cry. Granted, there haven’t been many moments for them to happen and there haven’t been that many years for him to boast about, but Woohyun had once mentioned the same thing and Woohyun’s known him for much longer (known him the way Myungsoo wanted to-still wants to) so Myungsoo knows this is rare.
Sunggyu’s eyes glisten and Myungsoo suppresses the urge to wipe the tears away. Sunggyu who is his friend, who has always taken care of him like an older brother he didn’t have, who nags like his mother and pulls the hyung card when Myungsoo knows he’s acting childish. Sunggyu who was so in love with Woohyun (is still in love with Woohyun). Myungsoo isn’t Woohyun (isn’t as talented, isn’t as witty, doesn’t make Sunggyu smile like Woohyun does), and he’s not sure if he can ever come close to even compare.
Sunggyu stands up so smoothly and brings Myungsoo out of his thoughts that Myungsoo almost forgets that the older boy’s intoxicated before Sunggyu’s hands are on his shoulders, forehead knocking his own.
“I’m fucking stupid, right?”
.
Myungsoo isn’t sure why he doesn’t try harder. Only half-attempts to push Sunggyu off him while the older male moves closer, drunken haze clouding the anger and pain in his eyes. It’s shocking, how much Myungsoo can see in those small eyes as Sunggyu tightens his grip on his upper arms, mouth smashing against him in a kiss that hurts because there’s teeth and bruised lips and sucking and nipping and this isn’t right.
But he can feel the desperation behind the touches, the pain that transfers from Sunggyu to Myungsoo through hands that are too rough and bites that are too hard. Sunggyu is drunk but there’s a touch of suffering (of anguish) every time Sunggyu breathes out, every time he makes a sound like he’s having a hard time breathing, having a hard time living (and it could well be the alcohol but Myungsoo knows).
He ends up muffling his cries into the couch pillow and digging fingernails into the fabric as Sunggyu thrusts into him, dry and unprepared. It’s Woohyun that escapes Sunggyu’s lips, Woohyun that Myungsoo hears in the apartment between the pants and moans. Woohyun that’s gasped out and Myungsoo knows Woohyun is the only person in Sunggyu’s mind. When Sunggyu finally finishes and is lying asleep on the carpeted floor beside the couch, Myungsoo makes out the faint tear tracks that the moonlight catches on the older boy’s cheeks before fatigue swallows him up and Myungsoo is out cold.
.
He wakes up with slow blinks before he turns and pain shoots up his back and Myungsoo scrunches his face and shirks back. He’s still for a few seconds, and it’s enough time for everything to come back to him. The first thing he notices is that he’s in his room, in his bed, still naked. The next thing he notices once he’s finally able to pull himself up, is that Sunggyu is gone.
*
A/n: Based on this, what's your opinion of Sunggyu?
Part of a mini-series? hmmmmm
Character/Pairing: hinted(potential)one-sided!MyungGyu, broken!WooGyu
Rating: PG-15 (for mature themes)
Genre: Angst
.
Sunggyu swallows, his dry throat raw and his eyes burnt out. He feels like shit and what he can make through his blurry vision is a very disgusted version of himself. The shattered mirror is still against the wall, several pieces missing but the biggest portion still standing, cracked. He hasn’t shaved in days, hasn’t bothered to shower in days and he’s an absolute dirty mess.
His living room is ugly, empty bottles and cans littering the table and spilling onto the ground. There are Styrofoam containers pushed to the side along with the plastic forks and spoons and disposable wooden chopsticks, and discarded napkins decorate the mess.
Sunggyu hears the knock on the door as it echoes clear in the empty apartment, but he doesn’t bother to move. He’s leaning against his couch, the couch itself in too much of a mess and he doesn’t have the energy to move the things to take a seat. The ground is just fine.
The knocking gets louder but Sunggyu merely continues to stare at the broken mirror. It’s showing a jarred image of himself, an ugly image with the right cracks in all the right places.
“Hyung! I know you’re in there! It’s me, again.” Another rap on the wooden door before it goes silent, and Sunggyu figures that the younger male gave up and left. He barely hears the next words but the apartment is empty so the muffled voice filters quietly across the space. “I’m worried about you, hyung.”
Sunggyu doesn’t know how long he stares at his cracked reflection, but by now Myungsoo is gone so Sunggyu merely reaches for another bottle.
.
When the doorbell rings signaling that his delivery has arrived, Sunggyu’s eyes go wide when he opens the door to a stone-faced Myungsoo. The younger male looks him over, the anger in his gaze flitting to concern and Sunggyu feels like he’s being scrutinized. There’s a plastic bag in Myungsoo’s hand, obvious evidence that he had intercepted the delivery man and paid himself.
Myungsoo pushes his way past him and Sunggyu lets him, slowly closing the door behind them and lingering by the entrance longer than needed. His eyelids fall shut when Myungsoo’s angry voice reaches his ears.
“Hyung, what the fuck?”
Sunggyu’s hand is still resting on the doorknob and his feet feel like lead. He just doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to hear. He wants to be anywhere but right here.
“Hyung.”
The voice is so much closer that Sunggyu’s eyes spring open, the shadow against the door in front of him too big to just be his. The older male turns to find Myungsoo facing him, worry lines wrinkling a too beautiful face, eyes with no hint of their regular mirth and lips tugging down at the corners. It’s a face Sunggyu doesn’t want his friend to be making.
“Hyung,” Myungsoo says again, softly, even though they’re the only ones in the apartment (the emptiness reminds him of what’s gone, over and over again).
Sunggyu doesn’t want the younger boy to worry, hates it when he’s the cause and Sunggyu feels like shit, inside and out. “Sorry,” he croaks. His voice is raw and unused.
Sunggyu lets Myungsoo guide him to his bathroom, and Myungsoo helps him peel the clothes off his body. There’s nothing sensual about the experience, more like a pathetic toddler who’s having troubles taking off his own clothes. Myungsoo stops at his boxers and goes to turn on the water to make sure it’s a nice temperature. He mutters something about making real food, curling the corner of his lip in a smile with no humor before quietly shutting the door behind him as he leaves.
It’s hot but not scalding, and Sunggyu brings his face up towards the shower head and lets it run down his body. His mouth is parted so he can breathe, droplets scattering every time he blinks. The water does nothing to restore his energy (nothing to wash away the emotions), but it does wonders to his outer appearance. When he steps out of the bathroom, steam rolling out in waves as hot air meets cold, Myungsoo is still in his kitchen, the stove light outlining his figure.
Sunggyu towels his hair dry in slow motions, his eyes on the organized mess of his living room. The bottles and cans are all together on the side, and the Styrofoam containers and napkins are now gone. The mirror is still there, but the picture frame that was smashed on the ground now lies face down on the cabinet.
He walks over, tentative hand reaching for the frame as he slowly brings it towards him. Two boys are grinning, teeth flashing and eyes crinkled. Sunggyu had amber hair at the time, and Woohyun’s hair was a chocolate brown, messy and stopping at his eyebrows.
“Hyung.”
Sunggyu blinks and quickly snaps the frame back down, turning to see Myungsoo watching him, gaze directed at his hand. Sunggyu pulls it away from the cabinet almost as if he’s self-conscious, eyes directed anywhere but at the boy in front of him (he hates worrying Myungsoo).
“We should eat before it gets cold.”
.
Myungsoo raps on the door with his free hand for the third time, exhaling “Hyung, open up, please,” and then thudding against the wooden fixture with a fist. There are groceries in his left hand and his bag has the quizzes that Sunggyu should have picked up that morning.
Myungsoo hears shuffling before the door opens and Sunggyu blinks bleary eyed at him. Myungsoo attempts a smile despite the smell of beer, lifting the plastic bag like a ticket for entry. The older male sighs and backs up to let him in. No matter how many times he comes, the living room is still a mess of bottles and cans but there are papers now, a small stack split in two on the coffee table.
“Hyung, you’re marking while you drink?”
Sunggyu snorts under his breath as he passes him to drop onto the couch. “I’m still a grad student, and I still have duties as a TA.”
His eyes are hard and bloodshot and his voice is still strained, but Myungsoo sees the pen in his hands and the markings on the assignments he’s already done grading.
“Hyung, when’s the last time you ate?”
Sunggyu’s hand stills for a split second before he scribbles a check mark and moves on to the next paper.
“Hyung,” Myungsoo insists and his heart feels heavy as he watches the grad student continue his work on the couch.
The pain is still there but Sunggyu is, above all else, a responsible person so the short absence he had was as far as he was going to take it. Sunggyu attends class, according to Dongwoo, and goes to the tutorials he’s responsible for. But that’s it. Myungsoo doesn’t see him in the music building or his favorite café down the street, doesn’t see him during practices for the guitar orchestra or in the recording studio where he was trying his hand at producing-Myungsoo doesn’t see him anywhere.
Myungsoo notices a pack of cigarettes tucked between some papers a few hours later when they’ve finished dinner (Myungsoo had to practically force Sunggyu to eat) and he frowns.
“Go home, Myungsoo.”
“Hyung-”
Sunggyu is already pushing him out the door, shoving his bag into his hand and by the time Myungsoo realizes he’s at the door and Sunggyu looks ready to shut it in his face.
“Hyung-”
“Thanks, Myungsoo-ah. But you should go home, you have your own studies to worry about, okay?”
Sunggyu’s face is blank, eyes empty and tinged with red and Myungsoo can see the older male’s grip tighten on the doorframe.
“Good night, kiddo.”
The door shuts before Myungsoo can get a word in. He listens as footsteps move away from the door and then he can hear the knocking of bottles together, and Myungsoo can’t help but sigh.
.
Myungsoo looks mournfully at his cell phone, the screen telling him that he has no new messages. His guitar is in its case and against his back and the rest of the students of the guitar orchestra have long filed out. Myungsoo made up an excuse when Sunggyu was asked for, fibbing out grad work and papers to grade. It would normally be true but how Myungsoo wished it were the case.
Myungsoo looks up to catch navy hair in the sea of students and he quickly stashes his phone in his pocket and dashes down the stone steps. The boy looks up and stops and Myungsoo is saved from shouting.
“Myungsoo.”
“Hyung,” Myungsoo says as he catches his breath. He ran automatically and totally forgot he had a guitar slung on his back.
“Hey. Practise?” Dongwoo asks, gesturing to the guitar case and Myungsoo nods. A solemn expression that doesn’t particularly suit Dongwoo’s face appears and his eyes settle on Myungsoo’s. “Did Sunggyu-hyung go?”
Myungsoo shakes his head and mirrors the older boy, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “Did he go to class?”
“Yeah,” Dongwoo replies with a small nod. “Got there late, barely cracked a smile, left right when the Prof stopped lecturing.”
Myungsoo’s eyes are downcast and he sighs. “Thanks, hyung,” he says with a small smile. He’s grateful, even if he’s not really showing it.
“Myungsoo-ah.” Myungsoo stops in mid-turn and looks back. Dongwoo looks like he’s contemplated something but instead lets out a small smile of his own. “Nevermind. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Myungsoo knows that Dongwoo’s extending that help, and he nods his thanks.
He makes it all the way to his place before his phone rings, and his eyes widen and he immediately shoves the cell to his hear.
“Hyung?”
“Myungsoo-ah...”
Myungsoo tenses at the sing-song voice and he can hear a faded beat pounding in the background. It’s not loud enough for him not to hear Sunggyu, but it’s there and Myungsoo is trying to focus on Sunggyu while scrambling to unlock his door as fast as he can.
“Hyung, where are you?”
“Myungsoo-ah...”
The door swings open and Myungsoo drops the strap of his case from his shoulder the crook of his elbow before quickly setting it on the floor. The giggly tone is still present and Myungsoo can hear Sunggyu hiccup on the other end of the line.
“Hyung, where are you?” he repeats, throwing his school bag on the ground and turning right back around to lock his door.
“Myungsoo-ah, you-” Something cuts the older boy off and Myungsoo can hear mumbling and then more giggling before Sunggyu’s voice comes back through. “Myungsoo-ah, did you know you make good ramen?”
Myungsoo suppresses the urge to growl as he flies down the staircase, pushing out the exit door with so much force he almost slams it back against the brick wall despite the heaviness of the door. He’s walking aimlessly now down the streets, names of bars and clubs running through his mind.
“Where are you?” he says tersely, his grip unconsciously tightening on his phone.
“Myungsoo-ah, I hate him.” Myungsoo pauses in his steps and swallows, his eyes unfocusing (willingly staring at nothing). “Myungsoo-ah, don’t you hate him too?”
“Yes,” he mutters under his breath, not completely into the phone.
“Did you say something? You should speak up, I can’t hear you.”
Sunggyu’s lisp is evident now and Myungsoo looks up at the street names above him. “Hyung, where are you?”
“Myungsoo-ah-”
“Where are you?” he repeats at an octave where passersby shoot him looks.
“Yah,” it’s loud and the playful tone temporarily disappears, “Watch it, kid.”
Myungsoo exhales and his thumb and forefinger come up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath and decides on a different approach. “Hyung, how am I supposed to come drink with you if I don’t know where you are?”
“Oh, you’re right, Myungsoo-ah. You’re so smart. Let me go find out.”
Myungsoo is seething, and as soon as a name slips out of the older boy’s lips he’s off, racing down the street and dodging pedestrians and red lights. The bar is particularly loud for this time of day. It’s only evening yet it’s busy and Myungsoo figures it’s the alcohol promotion for the day.
He makes his way to where Sunggyu is smiling at him, eyes disappearing as he tips a shot at him and then downs it in one go. Myungsoo can see the glow of the young man’s cheeks even in the dim light.
“Hyung-”
“Myungsoo-ah! What took you so long?”
Sunggyu leans forward off the stool to give him a hug and practically falls on top of him, and Myungsoo has to help him back onto his seat.
“Hyung-”
“Myungsoo-ah, it’s all my fault.”
Myungsoo backtracks in alarm and he looks over, but Sunggyu isn’t looking at him. Sunggyu is staring at the empty glass in his hands, arms on the counter. “Hyung, it’s not your fault.”
Sunggyu shakes his head a little too wildly and then raises a finger as if he’s about to point something about before it falls back to the countertop. “There must be something wrong with me. What’s wrong with me, Myungsoo-ah?”
Sunggyu suddenly looks up and tries to flag down the bartender with the empty glass in his hand and Myungsoo quickly intervenes. It takes all the tricks in his book to convince Sunggyu to leave the bar, because somehow even heavily intoxicated the older boy can come up with a millions reasons to stay, or stray off topic.
Myungsoo doesn’t quite trust Sunggyu alone so he stays in Sunggyu’s apartment once he’s hulled the older boy into his bed. The place has gotten messy again, several empty bottles restacking the coffee table. Myungsoo cleans up and tosses the clothes that are scattered on the floor together into a pile. He stops at a particular sweatshirt that Myungsoo knows belongs to Woohyun and debates whether or not to put it in the same pile, or throw it out completely. It’s Woohyun’s, but it might also be Sunggyu’s, so Myungsoo sighs and doesn’t give it another glance.
.
Sunggyu has his phone in one hand, other hand lingering by an open beer bottle. He isn’t sure how he did it but he’s somehow in his gallery, pictures of Woohyun reflecting on his screen. Woohyun laughing, Woohyun grinning, Woohyun in female hanbok when he had lost a bet, Woohyun throwing a peace sign with a cheesy smile, Sunggyu in the background with Woohyun’s face a little too close to the camera. Sunggyu loves him but really, he should hate him, right?
There’s something that bubbles in his chest before his face contorts in anger, and Sunggyu hurls his phone across the room. It hits the wall with a thud and lands on the ground with a clatter. It’s probably dented or scratched but it’s a smartphone and it’s still in one piece. Sunggyu grabs the beer and chugs it before he grabs another bottle and downs a second, and a third, and a fourth until the bitter taste is coating the inside of his mouth.
He can feel it, like a knife carving teasingly in his heart as it bleeds crimson. His chest is about to explode, his head is fucking mess and Sunggyu thinks he needs another drink. He can still think. He can still feel, and he doesn’t want to feel anything.
He hates him, yet he loves him. Sunggyu hates that he loves him.
Still.
.
Myungsoo is startled at the loud knocking at his door and when he opens it, a body almost falls forward before its hand catches the doorframe and Myungsoo’s hit with the smell of alcohol. Sunggyu’s eyes are slits as he blinks up at him before something similar to a smile cracks the older boy’s lips.
“Myungsoo-ah…”
“Hyung, I’ve been calling you. How come you didn’t pick up?” Myungsoo says instead, helping the older boy into his apartment and kicking the door shut.
“Calling? Oh.” Sunggyu waves his hand sloppily behind his shoulder. “I broke my phone. I think. Smartphones are really hard to break, did you know that?”
Sunggyu collapses on his couch, and Myungsoo eyes his hyung before sighing out, “I should get you water.”
Sunggyu catches his wrist before he can move and there’s a slight tug (like a timid five year old). “I can’t forget about him, Myungsoo-ah.”
Myungsoo takes a mental step back at the tears that are sliding down Sunggyu’s cheeks. In all the years he’s known the older male, he’s never seen him cry. Granted, there haven’t been many moments for them to happen and there haven’t been that many years for him to boast about, but Woohyun had once mentioned the same thing and Woohyun’s known him for much longer (known him the way Myungsoo wanted to-still wants to) so Myungsoo knows this is rare.
Sunggyu’s eyes glisten and Myungsoo suppresses the urge to wipe the tears away. Sunggyu who is his friend, who has always taken care of him like an older brother he didn’t have, who nags like his mother and pulls the hyung card when Myungsoo knows he’s acting childish. Sunggyu who was so in love with Woohyun (is still in love with Woohyun). Myungsoo isn’t Woohyun (isn’t as talented, isn’t as witty, doesn’t make Sunggyu smile like Woohyun does), and he’s not sure if he can ever come close to even compare.
Sunggyu stands up so smoothly and brings Myungsoo out of his thoughts that Myungsoo almost forgets that the older boy’s intoxicated before Sunggyu’s hands are on his shoulders, forehead knocking his own.
“I’m fucking stupid, right?”
.
Myungsoo isn’t sure why he doesn’t try harder. Only half-attempts to push Sunggyu off him while the older male moves closer, drunken haze clouding the anger and pain in his eyes. It’s shocking, how much Myungsoo can see in those small eyes as Sunggyu tightens his grip on his upper arms, mouth smashing against him in a kiss that hurts because there’s teeth and bruised lips and sucking and nipping and this isn’t right.
But he can feel the desperation behind the touches, the pain that transfers from Sunggyu to Myungsoo through hands that are too rough and bites that are too hard. Sunggyu is drunk but there’s a touch of suffering (of anguish) every time Sunggyu breathes out, every time he makes a sound like he’s having a hard time breathing, having a hard time living (and it could well be the alcohol but Myungsoo knows).
He ends up muffling his cries into the couch pillow and digging fingernails into the fabric as Sunggyu thrusts into him, dry and unprepared. It’s Woohyun that escapes Sunggyu’s lips, Woohyun that Myungsoo hears in the apartment between the pants and moans. Woohyun that’s gasped out and Myungsoo knows Woohyun is the only person in Sunggyu’s mind. When Sunggyu finally finishes and is lying asleep on the carpeted floor beside the couch, Myungsoo makes out the faint tear tracks that the moonlight catches on the older boy’s cheeks before fatigue swallows him up and Myungsoo is out cold.
.
He wakes up with slow blinks before he turns and pain shoots up his back and Myungsoo scrunches his face and shirks back. He’s still for a few seconds, and it’s enough time for everything to come back to him. The first thing he notices is that he’s in his room, in his bed, still naked. The next thing he notices once he’s finally able to pull himself up, is that Sunggyu is gone.
*
A/n: Based on this, what's your opinion of Sunggyu?
Part of a mini-series? hmmmmm