S3 2015: don’t stop, don’t stop until your heart goes numb
Title: don’t stop, don’t stop until your heart goes numb
Pairing(s): Sungyeol/Woohyun & Myungsoo/Sungyeol-friendship
Rating: pg-13
Length: ~3.2K
Summary: Sungyeol is thinking about how Woohyun seems to be bursting with colour under the disco lights with energy and laughter radiating from him, pure liquid excitement flowing through his veins… he’s not thinking about how Woohyun seems to be disappearing, like he could slip away at any moment, blown away by the wind.
Warnings: Alcohol, cigarette, and drug abuse mentioned; allusions to an eating disorder; character death, inferred suicide; but nothing too graphic, I promise. Also an f-bomb is dropped.
Notes: @ my prompters: I am so sorry, this turned out way darker than I thought it would and the prompts really do not suggest such misery. Thanks for the prompts; I hope someone enjoys this, OTL. (Also-my regular beta has been a little busy lately so this is largely un-betad but I combed through it myself as much as possible so hopefully there aren’t any glaring errors.)
The title is from Fall Out Boy’s Novocaine.
Prompts: (in white - highlight to read, my habit is to put them at the end so I would suggest you skip over for now ^^;;)
1. Quote: "Still, being alone doesn't mean you have to be miserable. In that sense it's different from losing something. You've still got yourself, even if you lose everything else. You've got to have faith in yourself and not get down just because you're on your own."
2. Image: here
3. Song/Lyrics: Infinite - Fixed Star
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun is sprawled across Sungyeol's bedspread. Sungyeol doesn't look at him, purposefully ignores the arms thrown over Woohyun's face.
Sungyeol stares out the window instead, taking in the summer landscape. He sees a bird fly across the sky, watches a leaf float through the air. He's not watching as Woohyun's chest rises and falls, doesn't see when Woohyun moves his arm to stare at the ceiling, his cheeks puffed out as he blows out one long continuous stream of breath, the very image of lazy and unconcerned (never mind that his fingers are trembling).
"Can I have a cigarette?"
"No," Sungyeol replies quickly, sharply. Then, to provide some sort of explanation and consolation for his tone, Sungyeol adds, "My mum will get mad."
He doesn't say the smoke makes him cough, doesn't say that Myungsoo always gives him disapproving looks when his hair reeks of smoke after hanging out with his boyfriend, doesn't say that he doesn't like who Woohyun has become during his first year away at university, doesn't say that he misses when they were both still going to secondary school together and not miles and miles apart like they have been this past year.
He doesn't even let himself consider that he might be wondering if they even still fit together anymore because he knows there's no way he could ever leave Woohyun anyway.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Myungsoo has his eyes hidden behind his camera, a quiet sort of smile on his face. Sungyeol isn't sure if smiles can be called that and Myungsoo can be anything but quiet, but there's a definite peace to him and quiet seems to be a fitting enough description. Sungyeol sits nearby on a park bench, watching as Myungsoo interacts with the kids, making them laugh, smile, and play, snapping pictures the whole time.
He sees the mothers nearby as well, also watching, also smiling. Myungsoo always promises to send the pictures to them, in exchange for using their kids in his photography projects. Classes have been out since May and Myungsoo doesn't have any projects left but they've made such a habit all year of coming to the park that they've just kept it up. It's a good place to hang out.
Myungsoo snaps one last photo before joining Sungyeol on the park bench, still fingering some of the buttons and knobs on his fancy camera.
"Do you ever think about how this is all going to end? So soon?"
Myungsoo looks at Sungyeol, and Sungyeol can read the surprise in his face, can see his eyebrows raise up slightly, can see the way his body turns subtly, moving his full attention away from the camera and onto Sungyeol.
He doesn't see the way Myungsoo's fingers tighten around the lens, the way his left foot twitches a little, the way his eyes look a little lost, confused, even worried, before (without replying) he shifts his attention back to the camera.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol has eyes fixed on some far corner of the park. Myungsoo doesn't know how to answer the question, doesn't even know if Sungyeol wants an answer considering how quickly he turned away after asking it.
They're both heading off to university next week and it's a big change, Myungsoo supposes, but they'll be together all the same so not that big of a change - they even requested each other as roommates.
Myungsoo doesn't think about how Woohyun will be there too, in the city that has been poisoning him this past year. He doesn't think about how much Woohyun has changed since university, in dramatically different ways than how Dongwoo changed - Dongwoo's louder, happier, growing excited and bright while Woohyun… well, once Myungsoo's umma commented that Woohyun seemed to be fading away at university.
Myungsoo doesn't think about all of Woohyun's stories and new friends (or are they even friends? Woohyun doesn't text them all the time the way Dongwoo does) that Sungyeol's been talking about meeting, doesn't even look at the lit cigarette dangling from Sungyeol's hand.
He thinks instead about growing up with Sungyeol, thinks about them trying to help his umma make a cake and ending up both covered in chocolate, thinks about them braving school together. He remembers how Sungyeol studied all summer so they could take an advanced maths class together, thinks about how he hated economics but took it anyway so they could have the perfect schedule together their last year, thinks about them laughing, watching movies, trying every restaurant in town (he felt fine afterwards, Sungyeol had claimed he was going to explode for several weeks).
He thinks about their life together; best friends forever, they had promised.
"It won't end," Myungsoo finally replies carefully, looking up briefly from where he was polishing his camera lens, "We're still going to be friends and we're not going to be that far away; we can come back for long weekends and holidays." He turns deliberately back to the camera in his hands.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol is stretched out on the floor of their dorm room, warm yellow light dancing across his body from the lamp they had brought from home. Myungsoo, sitting at his desk, can almost imagine that they were still in his old room, Moonsoo in the room next door playing loud music, hanging out after school like always.
But, no.
Woohyun knocks on the door and pushes it open without waiting for a reply or an invitation to come in. Myungsoo stares resolutely down at his multivariable calculus textbook, refusing to look up.
He doesn't think about how Sungyeol has been waiting for Woohyun, how Sungyeol had spent two hours getting ready-showering, styling his hair, dressing in tight jeans and a collared shirt, rolling his sleeves up and down again and again in front of his mirror, each time tweaking something. Myungsoo doesn't think about how Woohyun must be dressed similarly, how Sungyeol had begged him to come along.
"Come on," he'd wheedled, "Don't you want to make friends? We can't hide out in the dorm room alone all the time. Let's go out and have some fun, experience uni; Woohyun knows where all the parties are."
Myungsoo had smiled vaguely and shook his head, mumbling something about a midterm in calculus coming up.
He could feel Sungyeol's eyes on the back of his head, could almost see him hesitating at leaving his best friend behind to party with his boyfriend. But Myungsoo doesn't turn around, choosing instead to grab his tea mug. Woohyun whispers a quick, "Come on," and the door closes behind the pair of them.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun has his hands gripped around a beer can, a lazy smile on his face. Sungyeol is standing next to him, face flushed from alcohol. The lights are dimmed; everyone seems to be glowing midnight blue with colourful disco lights dancing patterns on their skin and clothes.
Sungyeol doesn't think about Myungsoo alone in their room, probably perfectly content with his tea, textbook, and warm yellow lights. He doesn't think about Myungsoo, always satisfied with being at home, always happy with just a camera, a cuddle buddy, and some of his umma's food.
Sungyeol doesn't think about Woohyun either, doesn't think about their kisses before university when they were still at home going to school, when he could feel muscles through Woohyun's shirt instead of ribs, doesn't think about when Woohyun didn't taste like smoke and alcohol.
"Let's go," Woohyun whispers into his ear and Sungyeol goes. "Come on," Woohyun says, tugging at Sungyeol's sleeve and Sungyeol comes.
Instead, Sungyeol is thinking about how Woohyun seems to be bursting with colour under the disco lights with energy and laughter radiating from him, pure liquid excitement flowing through his veins.
Somehow, it's intoxicating.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun, eyes lidded, is leaning against a backdrop of alleyways and dirty brick walls - almost like a photo shoot. Sungyeol is looking at him, but he hears Myungsoo in his head, analysing the composition, the framing, almost as if Woohyun really was a picture, bursting into colour for an instant before fading into the night.
And then Sungyeol is seeing Moonsoo's cat back home, seeing Daeyeol bring him his mug of tea while he studied for finals, seeing Myungsoo's fingers fiddling with the zoom feature on his camera, a child laughing in front of the slide.
"Kiss me," Woohyun says. Demands. Sungyeol lets out a shaky breath and pulls himself from the memories. There's no point. There's only here and now and he doesn't want to think about all that anyway. He forces himself to focus on the music from the party they'd ducked out of. It could be heard faintly, carried by the wind from a block away, thrumming into the quiet night.
Sungyeol does, because he doesn't know how to resist anything that involves Woohyun. He never did.
Now, he's thinking about how Woohyun's eyes are always flashing with emotion, thinking about how he made them breakfast in bed, thinking about how they danced and danced with the music throbbing around them, sweaty and intoxicating, laughing and hugging.
He's not thinking about how as he grabs onto Woohyun's forearms, he can fit Woohyun's entire wrist between his thumb and little finger, he's not thinking about the fevered look Woohyun's eyes get when it's been too long between cigarettes, he's not thinking about how Woohyun seems to be disappearing, like he could slip away at any moment, blown away by the wind.
But then, isn't that how everything and everyone is?
It won't end, Myungsoo had said.
But nothing lasts forever. Sungyeol clings harder to Woohyun.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol is collapsed onto his bed, his shoes still on, his breath smelling like alcohol and tobacco and other, sweeter, scarier things. Myungsoo looks at him from his own bed, a paperback romance manga on his lap.
Slowly, Myungsoo sets the book aside, sliding his bookmark in, and tiptoes over. He removes Sungyeol's shoes, socks, and jacket and throws them to the ground. Then, he carefully pulls the blanket out from underneath him, and tucks him in. He puts a glass of water next to Sungyeol's bed and then climbs into his own bed.
The room, still bathed by soft yellow light, suddenly feels a lot warmer than it did two hours ago when Sungyeol was out with Woohyun. Myungsoo knows Woohyun will be back the next day or Sungyeol will be gone, and he knows that at home, Sungyeol had never come over to his place high and drunk, but for now, this is good. Sleeping in the same room as his best friend again feels right.
He turns the lamp towards the wall and away from the beds but leaves it on for the night.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun is hunched over a toilet and there are retching noises coming through the stall door. Sungyeol stands outside, leaning against the bathroom door, keeping it closed from anyone else who might want to come in.
When Woohyun comes out, wiping at his mouth with the back of the hand, Sungyeol turns to lead them back to the club; he doesn't really want to go back but the bass line is thrumming through the floor anyway and it's impossible to forget where they are, even if the stark-white fluorescent lit bathroom feels so far away from the dim lights and sweaty bodies.
"No, don't," Woohyun stops him, closing his eyes as he leans against the tiled wall, everything about him looking almost transparent and washed out in the harsh light, "Let's stay a bit."
So Sungyeol stays, easing the door shut again.
Woohyun laughs quietly, and whispers, gesturing behind him towards the toilet, "I just want to be skinny and striking, you know?" Then, he laughs again, the sound echoing eerily through the bathroom.
Sungyeol is thinking about full lips and easy smiles, about eyes that sparkle, about green grass and a playground slide that shines brightly in the sun- a garish yellow plastic that should be hideous but is somehow happy, the laughter of children as they playfully fight for turns to go down first.
He is not thinking about how Woohyun's laughs have turned into sobs.
He doesn't say you're killing yourself or you're destroying us or Myungsoo is worried about me and he's been worried about me being with you for over a year or you're already skinny and so, so striking and now you're fucking disappearing.
But he just holds Woohyun and strokes his hair.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun is slumped into a chair, dark circles under his eyes. Myungsoo, sitting across the table, looks up from his own lunch to appraise Woohyun's meal and frowns.
"Is that all you're eating?"
Wearily, Sungyeol glances up from his own food from next to Myungsoo and shakes his head a fraction of an inch. Myungsoo gets the hint and doesn't say anything else.
But he stabs at his rice bitterly and then forces a smile. Neither of his tablemates reciprocates. Woohyun never answers the question either and Sungyeol looks exhausted.
Myungsoo notes that neither of them is talking to the other and the meal passes by in thick and tense silence.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol, his eyes wild, hair plastered to his face with sweat, is standing in the middle of their dorm room. Myungsoo, coming back from a study session from the library, is momentarily stunned by the image, before he edges in cautiously.
"Are you okay?" he asks tentatively. Slowly, he reaches a hand towards Sungyeol, pulling them both towards his bed to sit down, "What's going on?"
Sungyeol's voice is almost robotic, quite the contrast to his frenzied appearance, as he says listlessly, "Woohyun asked me to run away with him. He wants to get out of here, he said. He said I fixed him, made him feel alive and bright."
Myungsoo's heart stopped and his hands, rubbing soothing circles into Sungyeol's back, stilled.
Sungyeol goes on, his eyes losing some of the unnatural glow, staring forward blankly, "He said he wanted to leave all this behind. He said he needed to get out of here and no one would ever find us." Then he laughs bitterly and adds, "Giving up with him and giving in to him have always been the same things for me."
Myungsoo resumes rubbing circles, but he's still holding his breath, scared to say anything. He doesn't really understand, but then Sungyeol's never really shared that much about their relationship ever since Woohyun started university. Myungsoo has always been on the outside, stretching a safety net to catch Sungyeol when everything was going to fall apart (and he knew it would happen-he just didn't realise how high they'd fall from).
Breaking down and finally crying into Myungsoo shoulder, Sungyeol whispers, "He said he needed me."
There's no need to ask what Sungyeol told him; Myungsoo already knows. Even when Sungyeol has been more Woohyun's than his, Myungsoo has always known Sungyeol so well, so he just makes shushing noises and moves to tuck him into bed.
Shakily, Sungyeol continues anyway, so quiet that Myungsoo barely hears, "He needed me and I told him I couldn't do it."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun has his face plastered across school news sources; STUDENT KILLS HIMSELF, the headlines declare. Sungyeol stares blankly at his copy, propped up at his desk.
There's a bitter taste in Sungyeol's mouth as he realises why something feels off about the picture everyone seems to be using-it's from secondary school, when his cheeks were still full and the most rebellious thing they did together was stay up late watching movies. It doesn't look anything like the Woohyun Sungyeol remembers from the last two years and Sungyeol hates it. Hates the school reporters for sensationalising it, for picking a picture of Woohyun laughing and happy because, let's be real, Woohyun hasn't been happy for at least two years.
Sungyeol hates the feeling he gets when he reads that headline over and over again. He hates how he feels regret, how he wonders if maybe he could've fixed it. He wishes he could go back to when the news had just made him so numb he'd sat down hard onto the floor and hadn't moved for five hours.
He tells himself Woohyun was asking for too much and it wasn't his fault that he couldn't give it. But he still regrets, and he still wonders, and he still berates himself silently. Maybe if he had gone away with him, none of this would have happened.
And, more than anything, he hates Woohyun for putting him in this position, for actually leaving, leaving everything behind, even him.
But he hates himself most of all, for the sick sense of relief he feels flooding his stomach, making him want to retch, that it's finally over; he's never going to have to listen to Woohyun crying in a dirty bathroom, happy music drifting through the walls as their world breaks apart a little more.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
At the funeral, people paint pretty pictures with words.
They talk about Woohyun and they sing his praises and they condemn society and pressures and they talk about regret (what do they know about regret, Sungyeol wonders bitterly), they talk about love (they don't know anything, Sungyeol thinks, they don't know how Woohyun loved with alcoholic kisses and cigarette smoke tangling into your hair, how Woohyun loved with tear-stained confessions, the sour smell of vomit in the air as they danced in grimy bathrooms, Sungyeol feeling every rib against his chest with wrists that could break in his hands, with giggling highs and even dizzier lows, clinging to each other like there was nothing else in the world), they talk about living life to the fullest (but, Sungyeol thinks resentfully, Woohyun wasn't even really living, he was just fading in and out of existence in the end).
It's all so dumb.
He thinks about how Woohyun was ecstatic smiles and dancing disco lights. He thinks about music and rhythms and glittery backgrounds. He's not thinking about ribs and toilets and bloodshot eyes.
Afterwards, Myungsoo finds him and says, sounding like he's rehearsed the words, "It's okay that you loved him, you know? He wasn't a bad person, just lost. And, I don't think he really knew how to be alone so he dragged you with him and I think…" Myungsoo trails off uneasily, before repeating quietly, "He lost himself."
Sungyeol shakes his head, because after this last year, he's not sure he knows how to be alone either. He thinks about Woohyun, about all his regrets, and about the Woohyun he's thinking of in his mind and he's not even sure if that Woohyun was real anymore.
"You don't have to let him go all at once."
And Myungsoo is right. He doesn't. Not yet. Woohyun's gone but they haven't parted quite yet, so wrapped up together, their stories intertwined forever. Maybe Sungyeol gave too much, maybe Sungyeol wants to forget, but for now, he's got Myungsoo.
(He's always had Myungsoo, really, even when he hadn't realised it. It won't end, Myungsoo had said, but really it had meant that they wouldn't end; best friends forever, they had promised.)
He'll learn how to be alone (without Woohyun) eventually, even if he'll never forget him. Myungsoo will teach him, in that comforting little dorm room of theirs bathed in the soft yellow light that looks like home.
end.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Pairing(s): Sungyeol/Woohyun & Myungsoo/Sungyeol-friendship
Rating: pg-13
Length: ~3.2K
Summary: Sungyeol is thinking about how Woohyun seems to be bursting with colour under the disco lights with energy and laughter radiating from him, pure liquid excitement flowing through his veins… he’s not thinking about how Woohyun seems to be disappearing, like he could slip away at any moment, blown away by the wind.
Warnings: Alcohol, cigarette, and drug abuse mentioned; allusions to an eating disorder; character death, inferred suicide; but nothing too graphic, I promise. Also an f-bomb is dropped.
Notes: @ my prompters: I am so sorry, this turned out way darker than I thought it would and the prompts really do not suggest such misery. Thanks for the prompts; I hope someone enjoys this, OTL. (Also-my regular beta has been a little busy lately so this is largely un-betad but I combed through it myself as much as possible so hopefully there aren’t any glaring errors.)
The title is from Fall Out Boy’s Novocaine.
Prompts: (in white - highlight to read, my habit is to put them at the end so I would suggest you skip over for now ^^;;)
1. Quote: "Still, being alone doesn't mean you have to be miserable. In that sense it's different from losing something. You've still got yourself, even if you lose everything else. You've got to have faith in yourself and not get down just because you're on your own."
2. Image: here
3. Song/Lyrics: Infinite - Fixed Star
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun is sprawled across Sungyeol's bedspread. Sungyeol doesn't look at him, purposefully ignores the arms thrown over Woohyun's face.
Sungyeol stares out the window instead, taking in the summer landscape. He sees a bird fly across the sky, watches a leaf float through the air. He's not watching as Woohyun's chest rises and falls, doesn't see when Woohyun moves his arm to stare at the ceiling, his cheeks puffed out as he blows out one long continuous stream of breath, the very image of lazy and unconcerned (never mind that his fingers are trembling).
"Can I have a cigarette?"
"No," Sungyeol replies quickly, sharply. Then, to provide some sort of explanation and consolation for his tone, Sungyeol adds, "My mum will get mad."
He doesn't say the smoke makes him cough, doesn't say that Myungsoo always gives him disapproving looks when his hair reeks of smoke after hanging out with his boyfriend, doesn't say that he doesn't like who Woohyun has become during his first year away at university, doesn't say that he misses when they were both still going to secondary school together and not miles and miles apart like they have been this past year.
He doesn't even let himself consider that he might be wondering if they even still fit together anymore because he knows there's no way he could ever leave Woohyun anyway.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Myungsoo has his eyes hidden behind his camera, a quiet sort of smile on his face. Sungyeol isn't sure if smiles can be called that and Myungsoo can be anything but quiet, but there's a definite peace to him and quiet seems to be a fitting enough description. Sungyeol sits nearby on a park bench, watching as Myungsoo interacts with the kids, making them laugh, smile, and play, snapping pictures the whole time.
He sees the mothers nearby as well, also watching, also smiling. Myungsoo always promises to send the pictures to them, in exchange for using their kids in his photography projects. Classes have been out since May and Myungsoo doesn't have any projects left but they've made such a habit all year of coming to the park that they've just kept it up. It's a good place to hang out.
Myungsoo snaps one last photo before joining Sungyeol on the park bench, still fingering some of the buttons and knobs on his fancy camera.
"Do you ever think about how this is all going to end? So soon?"
Myungsoo looks at Sungyeol, and Sungyeol can read the surprise in his face, can see his eyebrows raise up slightly, can see the way his body turns subtly, moving his full attention away from the camera and onto Sungyeol.
He doesn't see the way Myungsoo's fingers tighten around the lens, the way his left foot twitches a little, the way his eyes look a little lost, confused, even worried, before (without replying) he shifts his attention back to the camera.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol has eyes fixed on some far corner of the park. Myungsoo doesn't know how to answer the question, doesn't even know if Sungyeol wants an answer considering how quickly he turned away after asking it.
They're both heading off to university next week and it's a big change, Myungsoo supposes, but they'll be together all the same so not that big of a change - they even requested each other as roommates.
Myungsoo doesn't think about how Woohyun will be there too, in the city that has been poisoning him this past year. He doesn't think about how much Woohyun has changed since university, in dramatically different ways than how Dongwoo changed - Dongwoo's louder, happier, growing excited and bright while Woohyun… well, once Myungsoo's umma commented that Woohyun seemed to be fading away at university.
Myungsoo doesn't think about all of Woohyun's stories and new friends (or are they even friends? Woohyun doesn't text them all the time the way Dongwoo does) that Sungyeol's been talking about meeting, doesn't even look at the lit cigarette dangling from Sungyeol's hand.
He thinks instead about growing up with Sungyeol, thinks about them trying to help his umma make a cake and ending up both covered in chocolate, thinks about them braving school together. He remembers how Sungyeol studied all summer so they could take an advanced maths class together, thinks about how he hated economics but took it anyway so they could have the perfect schedule together their last year, thinks about them laughing, watching movies, trying every restaurant in town (he felt fine afterwards, Sungyeol had claimed he was going to explode for several weeks).
He thinks about their life together; best friends forever, they had promised.
"It won't end," Myungsoo finally replies carefully, looking up briefly from where he was polishing his camera lens, "We're still going to be friends and we're not going to be that far away; we can come back for long weekends and holidays." He turns deliberately back to the camera in his hands.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol is stretched out on the floor of their dorm room, warm yellow light dancing across his body from the lamp they had brought from home. Myungsoo, sitting at his desk, can almost imagine that they were still in his old room, Moonsoo in the room next door playing loud music, hanging out after school like always.
But, no.
Woohyun knocks on the door and pushes it open without waiting for a reply or an invitation to come in. Myungsoo stares resolutely down at his multivariable calculus textbook, refusing to look up.
He doesn't think about how Sungyeol has been waiting for Woohyun, how Sungyeol had spent two hours getting ready-showering, styling his hair, dressing in tight jeans and a collared shirt, rolling his sleeves up and down again and again in front of his mirror, each time tweaking something. Myungsoo doesn't think about how Woohyun must be dressed similarly, how Sungyeol had begged him to come along.
"Come on," he'd wheedled, "Don't you want to make friends? We can't hide out in the dorm room alone all the time. Let's go out and have some fun, experience uni; Woohyun knows where all the parties are."
Myungsoo had smiled vaguely and shook his head, mumbling something about a midterm in calculus coming up.
He could feel Sungyeol's eyes on the back of his head, could almost see him hesitating at leaving his best friend behind to party with his boyfriend. But Myungsoo doesn't turn around, choosing instead to grab his tea mug. Woohyun whispers a quick, "Come on," and the door closes behind the pair of them.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun has his hands gripped around a beer can, a lazy smile on his face. Sungyeol is standing next to him, face flushed from alcohol. The lights are dimmed; everyone seems to be glowing midnight blue with colourful disco lights dancing patterns on their skin and clothes.
Sungyeol doesn't think about Myungsoo alone in their room, probably perfectly content with his tea, textbook, and warm yellow lights. He doesn't think about Myungsoo, always satisfied with being at home, always happy with just a camera, a cuddle buddy, and some of his umma's food.
Sungyeol doesn't think about Woohyun either, doesn't think about their kisses before university when they were still at home going to school, when he could feel muscles through Woohyun's shirt instead of ribs, doesn't think about when Woohyun didn't taste like smoke and alcohol.
"Let's go," Woohyun whispers into his ear and Sungyeol goes. "Come on," Woohyun says, tugging at Sungyeol's sleeve and Sungyeol comes.
Instead, Sungyeol is thinking about how Woohyun seems to be bursting with colour under the disco lights with energy and laughter radiating from him, pure liquid excitement flowing through his veins.
Somehow, it's intoxicating.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun, eyes lidded, is leaning against a backdrop of alleyways and dirty brick walls - almost like a photo shoot. Sungyeol is looking at him, but he hears Myungsoo in his head, analysing the composition, the framing, almost as if Woohyun really was a picture, bursting into colour for an instant before fading into the night.
And then Sungyeol is seeing Moonsoo's cat back home, seeing Daeyeol bring him his mug of tea while he studied for finals, seeing Myungsoo's fingers fiddling with the zoom feature on his camera, a child laughing in front of the slide.
"Kiss me," Woohyun says. Demands. Sungyeol lets out a shaky breath and pulls himself from the memories. There's no point. There's only here and now and he doesn't want to think about all that anyway. He forces himself to focus on the music from the party they'd ducked out of. It could be heard faintly, carried by the wind from a block away, thrumming into the quiet night.
Sungyeol does, because he doesn't know how to resist anything that involves Woohyun. He never did.
Now, he's thinking about how Woohyun's eyes are always flashing with emotion, thinking about how he made them breakfast in bed, thinking about how they danced and danced with the music throbbing around them, sweaty and intoxicating, laughing and hugging.
He's not thinking about how as he grabs onto Woohyun's forearms, he can fit Woohyun's entire wrist between his thumb and little finger, he's not thinking about the fevered look Woohyun's eyes get when it's been too long between cigarettes, he's not thinking about how Woohyun seems to be disappearing, like he could slip away at any moment, blown away by the wind.
But then, isn't that how everything and everyone is?
It won't end, Myungsoo had said.
But nothing lasts forever. Sungyeol clings harder to Woohyun.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol is collapsed onto his bed, his shoes still on, his breath smelling like alcohol and tobacco and other, sweeter, scarier things. Myungsoo looks at him from his own bed, a paperback romance manga on his lap.
Slowly, Myungsoo sets the book aside, sliding his bookmark in, and tiptoes over. He removes Sungyeol's shoes, socks, and jacket and throws them to the ground. Then, he carefully pulls the blanket out from underneath him, and tucks him in. He puts a glass of water next to Sungyeol's bed and then climbs into his own bed.
The room, still bathed by soft yellow light, suddenly feels a lot warmer than it did two hours ago when Sungyeol was out with Woohyun. Myungsoo knows Woohyun will be back the next day or Sungyeol will be gone, and he knows that at home, Sungyeol had never come over to his place high and drunk, but for now, this is good. Sleeping in the same room as his best friend again feels right.
He turns the lamp towards the wall and away from the beds but leaves it on for the night.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun is hunched over a toilet and there are retching noises coming through the stall door. Sungyeol stands outside, leaning against the bathroom door, keeping it closed from anyone else who might want to come in.
When Woohyun comes out, wiping at his mouth with the back of the hand, Sungyeol turns to lead them back to the club; he doesn't really want to go back but the bass line is thrumming through the floor anyway and it's impossible to forget where they are, even if the stark-white fluorescent lit bathroom feels so far away from the dim lights and sweaty bodies.
"No, don't," Woohyun stops him, closing his eyes as he leans against the tiled wall, everything about him looking almost transparent and washed out in the harsh light, "Let's stay a bit."
So Sungyeol stays, easing the door shut again.
Woohyun laughs quietly, and whispers, gesturing behind him towards the toilet, "I just want to be skinny and striking, you know?" Then, he laughs again, the sound echoing eerily through the bathroom.
Sungyeol is thinking about full lips and easy smiles, about eyes that sparkle, about green grass and a playground slide that shines brightly in the sun- a garish yellow plastic that should be hideous but is somehow happy, the laughter of children as they playfully fight for turns to go down first.
He is not thinking about how Woohyun's laughs have turned into sobs.
He doesn't say you're killing yourself or you're destroying us or Myungsoo is worried about me and he's been worried about me being with you for over a year or you're already skinny and so, so striking and now you're fucking disappearing.
But he just holds Woohyun and strokes his hair.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun is slumped into a chair, dark circles under his eyes. Myungsoo, sitting across the table, looks up from his own lunch to appraise Woohyun's meal and frowns.
"Is that all you're eating?"
Wearily, Sungyeol glances up from his own food from next to Myungsoo and shakes his head a fraction of an inch. Myungsoo gets the hint and doesn't say anything else.
But he stabs at his rice bitterly and then forces a smile. Neither of his tablemates reciprocates. Woohyun never answers the question either and Sungyeol looks exhausted.
Myungsoo notes that neither of them is talking to the other and the meal passes by in thick and tense silence.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sungyeol, his eyes wild, hair plastered to his face with sweat, is standing in the middle of their dorm room. Myungsoo, coming back from a study session from the library, is momentarily stunned by the image, before he edges in cautiously.
"Are you okay?" he asks tentatively. Slowly, he reaches a hand towards Sungyeol, pulling them both towards his bed to sit down, "What's going on?"
Sungyeol's voice is almost robotic, quite the contrast to his frenzied appearance, as he says listlessly, "Woohyun asked me to run away with him. He wants to get out of here, he said. He said I fixed him, made him feel alive and bright."
Myungsoo's heart stopped and his hands, rubbing soothing circles into Sungyeol's back, stilled.
Sungyeol goes on, his eyes losing some of the unnatural glow, staring forward blankly, "He said he wanted to leave all this behind. He said he needed to get out of here and no one would ever find us." Then he laughs bitterly and adds, "Giving up with him and giving in to him have always been the same things for me."
Myungsoo resumes rubbing circles, but he's still holding his breath, scared to say anything. He doesn't really understand, but then Sungyeol's never really shared that much about their relationship ever since Woohyun started university. Myungsoo has always been on the outside, stretching a safety net to catch Sungyeol when everything was going to fall apart (and he knew it would happen-he just didn't realise how high they'd fall from).
Breaking down and finally crying into Myungsoo shoulder, Sungyeol whispers, "He said he needed me."
There's no need to ask what Sungyeol told him; Myungsoo already knows. Even when Sungyeol has been more Woohyun's than his, Myungsoo has always known Sungyeol so well, so he just makes shushing noises and moves to tuck him into bed.
Shakily, Sungyeol continues anyway, so quiet that Myungsoo barely hears, "He needed me and I told him I couldn't do it."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Woohyun has his face plastered across school news sources; STUDENT KILLS HIMSELF, the headlines declare. Sungyeol stares blankly at his copy, propped up at his desk.
There's a bitter taste in Sungyeol's mouth as he realises why something feels off about the picture everyone seems to be using-it's from secondary school, when his cheeks were still full and the most rebellious thing they did together was stay up late watching movies. It doesn't look anything like the Woohyun Sungyeol remembers from the last two years and Sungyeol hates it. Hates the school reporters for sensationalising it, for picking a picture of Woohyun laughing and happy because, let's be real, Woohyun hasn't been happy for at least two years.
Sungyeol hates the feeling he gets when he reads that headline over and over again. He hates how he feels regret, how he wonders if maybe he could've fixed it. He wishes he could go back to when the news had just made him so numb he'd sat down hard onto the floor and hadn't moved for five hours.
He tells himself Woohyun was asking for too much and it wasn't his fault that he couldn't give it. But he still regrets, and he still wonders, and he still berates himself silently. Maybe if he had gone away with him, none of this would have happened.
And, more than anything, he hates Woohyun for putting him in this position, for actually leaving, leaving everything behind, even him.
But he hates himself most of all, for the sick sense of relief he feels flooding his stomach, making him want to retch, that it's finally over; he's never going to have to listen to Woohyun crying in a dirty bathroom, happy music drifting through the walls as their world breaks apart a little more.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
At the funeral, people paint pretty pictures with words.
They talk about Woohyun and they sing his praises and they condemn society and pressures and they talk about regret (what do they know about regret, Sungyeol wonders bitterly), they talk about love (they don't know anything, Sungyeol thinks, they don't know how Woohyun loved with alcoholic kisses and cigarette smoke tangling into your hair, how Woohyun loved with tear-stained confessions, the sour smell of vomit in the air as they danced in grimy bathrooms, Sungyeol feeling every rib against his chest with wrists that could break in his hands, with giggling highs and even dizzier lows, clinging to each other like there was nothing else in the world), they talk about living life to the fullest (but, Sungyeol thinks resentfully, Woohyun wasn't even really living, he was just fading in and out of existence in the end).
It's all so dumb.
He thinks about how Woohyun was ecstatic smiles and dancing disco lights. He thinks about music and rhythms and glittery backgrounds. He's not thinking about ribs and toilets and bloodshot eyes.
Afterwards, Myungsoo finds him and says, sounding like he's rehearsed the words, "It's okay that you loved him, you know? He wasn't a bad person, just lost. And, I don't think he really knew how to be alone so he dragged you with him and I think…" Myungsoo trails off uneasily, before repeating quietly, "He lost himself."
Sungyeol shakes his head, because after this last year, he's not sure he knows how to be alone either. He thinks about Woohyun, about all his regrets, and about the Woohyun he's thinking of in his mind and he's not even sure if that Woohyun was real anymore.
"You don't have to let him go all at once."
And Myungsoo is right. He doesn't. Not yet. Woohyun's gone but they haven't parted quite yet, so wrapped up together, their stories intertwined forever. Maybe Sungyeol gave too much, maybe Sungyeol wants to forget, but for now, he's got Myungsoo.
(He's always had Myungsoo, really, even when he hadn't realised it. It won't end, Myungsoo had said, but really it had meant that they wouldn't end; best friends forever, they had promised.)
He'll learn how to be alone (without Woohyun) eventually, even if he'll never forget him. Myungsoo will teach him, in that comforting little dorm room of theirs bathed in the soft yellow light that looks like home.
end.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-