(l/sungyeol) how to be his
Title: how to be his
Pairing: L/Sungyeol
Rating: G
how to be his
Stranger things have happened in Seoul, Myungsoo tells himself as he stares at the card in his hand. The agency’s address is not far from here. He moves to place the card in his back pocket, because I’ll think about it later and Moonsoo’s going to laugh at me when a voice comes, from right behind him, “You should go for the audition.”
Myungsoo whirls around and almost slips because there’s a strange man, standing way too close to him. He has dark sunglasses on and his hair is perfectly styled and he gives Myungsoo a tentative smile.
“Are you one of their scouts?”
The man shakes his head. “I need you to go to this audition. You’re going to make it in as the first member of this new group. You’re going to end up famous, you and your group, but there are some things I need you change.”
Stranger people live in Seoul, but still Myungsoo backs away slowly. “Who are you?”
The man’s mouth twists itself into a line and that’s enough for Myungsoo to know he’s struggling with the truth and Myungsoo backs away another step. The man sighs. “My name is L. You know how they say we don’t get second chances? They were wrong.”
The man, L, convinces Myungsoo to talk over coffee and he orders himself an iced mocha while L takes his coffee black.
“If you’re supposed to be me,” Myungsoo says carefully, “then why aren’t you drinking what I like?”
L takes off his sunglasses and he does look like Myungsoo, just older and less self-conscious and weary. More worn. “Tastes change,” he says and suddenly it occurs to Myungsoo that L knows the future, his future - he’s lived through it. “I can’t tell you everything, I’m sorry,” L says immediately, reading the way Mungsoo grips his cup and he deflates. “I can just tell you what I need you to change.”
He tells Myungsoo to listen carefully, that there will be a boy, tall and ridiculously funny and confident. He has pretty eyes. Prettier fingers ("Pretty fingers? What do you mean?" but L cuts him off and tells him he'll understand when he sees the boy). He also tells him this boy will get married to an actress, one you haven’t heard of yet, and you’re going to be his best man and you’re going to get ridiculously drunk and say things that should have been said weeks and months or maybe even years earlier.
“…I don’t like boys,” Myungsoo says helplessly and he means it: he likes girls with long, wavy hair and big eyes who laugh at his jokes, no matter how trivial.
“I know,” L says and he looks somewhat confused. “I don’t understand this either but you like him. I like him. I can’t explain it to you but you will know when you meet him. It’s…different.”
“What’s his name?”
“Go to the audition,” L says. Desperation weaves its way into his voice and Myungsoo digs the card out from his pocket. It’s folded and creased and Myungsoo wonders if it’s some sort of forewarning. “I can’t tell you but you’re going to know when you meet him. Good luck,” he says and it sounds like a plea.
He leaves the coffee house after paying the bill and Myungsoo reaches gingerly for the cup of dark coffee in front of him. It’s way too sweet and it’s bitter under all that sugar and Myungsoo makes a face before reaching for his own cup of creamier, milder coffee.
“Hi, I’m Lee Sungyeol,” the boy says, dropping a duffle bag by his feet and there’s a cup of coffee in his hand and Myungsoo tilts his head.
“Black coffee?”
Sungyeol nods slowly, nonplussed.
“I’m Kim Myungsoo,” he says carefully and his heart quickens painfully.
L watches him, because Myungsoo can feel the prickling at the back of his neck, when he’s walking out of the dorm and into the van to be ferried to the practice studios or vocal lessons.
He thinks he knows why L has such an intense stare, because they make Myungsoo practice it: in front of the mirrors, the acting teachers, the CEO even. Your eyes will be your selling point, they tell him proudly and he thinks of L’s smoldering gaze and everything seems to be falling into place.
Sungyeol is…difficult at first, because he’s moody and he shifts from sharing his contraband snacks with Myungsoo to ignoring him when all the trainees gather for dinner, sitting cross-legged and packed together in the living room. Sungyeol will sit at the corner of the room, radiating frustration.
“He’s just angry he has to use this route to become an actor,” L explains to Myungsoo one day, when it’s in the middle of the night and they’re both in the room because his roommate is back home, trying to settle a family emergency. Myungsoo nods. “It won’t last, don’t worry.”
“Don’t you have anything to do other than watch me?” Myungsoo asks, and L straightens. There’s a pause.
“I have a lot of time on my hands these days,” L says carefully but there’s this poignancy entwined in his words, just shallow enough to be registered. It’s enough for Myungsoo’s fist to clench tightly around the blanket-his future doesn’t look all that promising. L is looking out the window and Myungsoo wonders if he will go to Sungyeol’s room next, to watch him or talk to him or just change things himself, as L and not as Myungsoo.
“It’s going to be okay,” Myungsoo says, bringing a palm up to touch L’s arm and L turns back to him and gives him a half-smile. It’s ironic, because it’s only the next morning that Myungsoo realises that L already knows it’s not going to be all right.
Myungsoo starts sharing his coffee with Sungyeol because his parents send him packets of instant coffee and every time he offers Sungyeol his cup, in between the hazy moments of practice or exercise or waiting for the shower, Sungyeol lights up.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks and his words are warm, contented.
“Because we’re friends,” Myungsoo says, drinking casually from the same spot Sungyeol’s lips were pressed too, barely a second ago, “and friends do things like this.”
Sungyeol laughs, loud and staccato, and Myungsoo’s breath hitches quietly. L must remember this, Myungsoo thinks, because he is never going to forget what falling in love feels like.
Myungsoo makes other friends like Lee Sungjong and acquaintances like Lee Sunggyu, but he never shares his coffee with them.
“They are going to talk about this on some interview,” L says with amusement one day as Myungsoo is making another cup of coffee and stops stirring. His roommate, Youngjun, is still in Busan. “How you only ever share your coffee with Sungyeol.”
“Should I start sharing it with them?”
“It’s up to you,” he says evenly and Myungsoo grins because they both know they’re not going to.
“Thanks,” Myungsoo says gleefully after a beat, as he blows at the steam from the top of the cup and L looks at him the usual way Myungsoo looks at him: head tilted, mouth pressed to a soft line. Confusion. It’s a nice change, not to be the one left in the dark for once. “Now I know who four members of the group are.”
Sometimes Sungyeol says he’s sick and he’s supposed to be at the hospital but he’s in his room, sitting with back pressed to the door. This is when Myungsoo would miss his acting lessons or vocal practice to sit next to Sungyeol, a cup of coffee between them.
Sungyeol’s room is more orderly than his own, and his bags are always packed, placed at the corner of the room.
“Why haven’t you unpacked yet?” Myungsoo asks. They’re sitting close enough for their knees to touch.
“For emergency escapes,” Sungyeol says, curling his fingers around the handle of the cup. Sungyeol has nice fingers.
“We’ll debut soon,” Myungsoo replies and he hopes it’s reassuring enough. He looks at their knees and wonders what it would be like if Sungyeol’s nice fingers were splayed across his knee, if they made their careful way upwards, high then higher: past his thigh and-
Sungyeol sighs and leans his head against Myungsoo’s shoulder. “Sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. But,” he says, brightening slightly, “I think about your instant coffee and I’m a little bit more sure.”
All Myungsoo really needs to do is turn his head and he can explain the way his lips brush against Sungyeol’s cheek as an accident if he has to. But Myungsoo doesn’t and this is his first mistake.
“You didn’t kiss him, did you?”
Myungsoo colours. Mind your own business, he wants to say but he can’t. “I think you know the answer.”
L turns away angrily. His fingers are clenched: exasperation.
“It would be easier if you told me what the situation would be in advance so I can take advantage of it.”
“I can’t.”
“Then there are going to be more missed opportunities.”
“I know,” L snarls with such finality that Myungsoo feels a shiver of apprehension make its way down his spine, because what happens two or four or eight years down the line that makes L this discontented?
They are finalized as seven boys and they’re called Infinite and they officially debut on a Friday. Myungsoo likes how Sungjong is the maknae, flightly and wide-eyed; how Sunggyu is their leader, because he expects discipline and precision, how Dongwoo laughs and how Woohyun can cook them dubu jjigae in the middle of the nights but most of all, it is Sungyeol he likes.
Sungyeol beams after the managers congratulate them and he clutches Myungsoo’s hand at the back of the tiny kitchen, because the dorm is a lot less crowded these days and everyone has a bit more breathing space.
Myungsoo can almost see how the future changes in this moment, if he could just lean in but his heart anchors his feet to the ground and Sungyeol is too jumpy, too hopeful, too much his best friend and group member.
Mistake one point five: he can almost feel L’s disdain staining the air.
By Saturday, he’s forgotten about L because there are practices after practices, dress rehearsals and practice interviews. It’s only when a few weeks pass that he remembers L but he never sees him or feels his eyes on him and it’s like L never existed.
It’s only on the third week of their debut stage, when the makeup-noona is dabbing bb cream across his face that Myungsoo stares into the mirror and registers with a lurch that he is L.
Mistake number two happens in Singapore, when they’re in the hotel room and Sungyeol has a fever. L has his chest against Sungyeol’s back, arms wrapped around him. Sungyeol is shivering even though his skin is heated and sticky with sweat and it would be so, so easy to press a kiss to the back of Sungyeol’s neck.
Mistake number three: when they win their first award and they’re celebrating with soju and the CEO and managers are turning a blind eye at the accumulating bottles at the table. “It’s like we were trainees just yesterday,” Sungyeol whispers into his ear because there is noise everywhere and his voice is bright and clear even though his words blur off at the edges. L feels warmth (happiness and desire and satisfaction) blooming through him and Sungyeol just smiles back at him.
Mistake number four happens as they’re filming and there are puppies running everywhere and people are laughing and there are barks. The lights from the cameras bounce off the marble floors and everything is downed in light and it makes L think that nothing could go wrong, if only he tried. He doesn’t.
The future is overtaking L, and he loses count of the mistakes until Sungyeol’s wedding arrives.
Her name is Hyemin and she’s almost as tall as Sungyeol.
She has an earnest smile and a quick tongue and she’s one of the prettiest girls L has ever seen, with her wavy hair and rosy skin, on screen and off. L thinks he could have fallen in love with her too, but he can't because he's in love with Sungyeol who is in love with her. Perhaps in another life or time, things could have been simpler.
They get married a year and a half after Infinite’s disbandment. Dongwoo is the MC and Woohyun is the best man and L is the other best man, but Woohyun is competent enough by himself so L’s at the bar, taking calculated shots of vodka.
The bartender looks unsympathetic when he tries to order his fifth shot and he leaves to make his way back to the celebrations. He can see Hyemin, in her dress of silk and tulle; hair knotted simply to the side, standing in the middle of her group of friends and before he knows it, he has found Sungyeol and his hand snakes itself around Sungyeol’s wrist and he’s tugging incessantly at it.
“Myungsoo,” Sungyeol says, surprised, as L leads him to a corner, and then his expression falters. “You’re drunk.”
He shakes his head. Warm and regretful and fucking frustrated, yes, but not drunk. Yet.
“I know she loves you.”
Sungyeol nods slowly, and it makes L think of their first meeting: coffee and duffle bags.
L licks his lips. “But you can’t marry her.” His hand is still wrapped around Sungyeol’s wrist and he can feel Sungyeol starting to tremble.
“Myungsoo-”
“I’m not Myungsoo, I’m L,” he says desperately and that’s the problem. Myungsoo might have had a chance at this but L, L never did. “I love yo-”
Sungyeol jerks his hand from L’s grip and soon his hands are on L’s shoulders and his fingers are pressing painful half-moons into his skin, through the suit. He’s keeping L steady because Sungyeol is staring to spin in his vision. “Don’t do this to me,” he says, and his voice is a slow burn: an equal mix of anger and disappointment, “I love her and I’m going to marry her, Myungsoo. There’s nothing that can change that.”
By this time, Howon and Sunggyu have noticed the commotion and are making their way towards them and L can see Hyemin looking over in their direction.
Howon holds him steady and helps him outside as Sunggyu trails behind him and before they leave the ballroom, L turns back to see Sungyeol walking Hyemin back to their table, his hand on the small of her back and she’s leaning into him as he speaks, his mouth millimeters from her ear. L can feel his stomach churn and at least he can blame that on the alcohol.
Outside, in the balmy night, L throws up on the sidewalk as Sunggyu helps him to his knees as he rubs circles into his back and Howon stands at the edge of the curb, arm in the air as he tries to hail a taxi.
L is convulsing so hard he's pretty sure his body is trying to rid itself of the tint of Sungyeol; the way his gums show when he smiles and the way he holds his mike, like he's still unsure about this whole singing thing and his confidence and the way he sleeps, limbs tucked close to his body.
Sunggyu doesn’t say anything but L can feel the admonishment and pity from his gaze. Once a leader, always a leader but also a friend. I should thank him and apologize, L thinks in between everything but that would mean throwing up all over Sunggyu’s suit, and he’s definitely done enough damage already.
He wonders if Sungyeol is still his friend, let alone his best friend. His throat and his eyes and his heart all burn simultaneously.
Sungjong is the first one to call him, five days after the wedding.
“What people need are second chances,” Sungjong says soothingly and L looks around at his apartment, airy and spacious and empty.
“What I need is a third chance,” he sighs and suddenly static overtakes the line. “Sungjong? Hello?”
One more chance, the static warbles, thick with interference, your last one.
And suddenly, L understands.
“Hyung? Hyung, what do you mean? What happened?” Sungjong’s voice returns, confused. “Hyung?”
“I’ll call you back, Sungjong,” he says as he ends the call. He doesn’t even think; he just grabs a coat and a pair of sunglasses that sit on the side of the table and makes his way, out into the cold air.
He finds Myungsoo in Hongdae, wandering around with a card in hand, a thick muffler around his neck.
“Go to the audition,” L says as he approaches the boy. Myungsoo doesn’t look surprised this time, to see a random man emerge from the crowd only to tell him to do something like this. Perhaps he is already conscious of how precarious his situation-their situation is.
L feels his mind working as he stares at Myungsoo, back to the memories, the mistakes, the should-haves and would-haves.
“You're from my future," he says and his tone wavers, as though daring L to correct him. L in silent. Myungsoo inhales and continues, "What can you tell me,” he says and his eyes are serious even though his fear is palpable.
“Kiss him after you win your first award,” he says, and Myungsoo’s eyes widen.
“Kiss who? What award? What are you talking about?”
L gives it three seconds of thought and then, Screw the rules.
“His name is Lee Sungyeol,” he says. “MNet Countdown." And then L has to smile, a bitter one that doesn't reach his eyes, because it's so ironic: he tells Myungsoo the name of the song they win their first award for and Myungsoo starts to laugh.
"Someone has a sense of humour," he says and L's smile falls as the reality of everything settles in. This is his final chance.
"You have to succeed, for the both of us. Please."
The bright side is that they're still friends, because Sungyeol calls him, out of the blue one day.
"Hyemin is pregnant," he says and even from the earpiece L can tell Sungyeol is emitting pride.
"Congratulations," L feels himself say automatically. The downside is that he reels as he tries to process the information even though it shouldn't be this shocking, because marriage and new houses and children all come together. A packaged dream.
"How are you? We should meet up one day, for coffee or something." He sounds more subdued now and L can imagine him, in a plain tee and shorts after coming back from the set, sitting at the edge of the couch.
"Maybe," L starts but he can see Sungyeol's soft eyes and the curve of Hyemin's body and he falters. "Maybe next time."
The screen cracks when the phone meets the wall. L changes his number the next day.
L has a king-sized bed, four hundred threadcount sheets and just like the rest of his apartment, too much space.
It’s been two months since he’s last seen Myungsoo, at Hongdae.
L sighs and shifts, throwing his arms out to stretch. His right hand lands onto a solid object and L recoils immediately, sitting up quickly and turning to the side. His breath catches in this throat because there’s someone sleeping in his bed, hidden under a mess of blankets and pillows.
He pokes an exposed arm tentatively. The body makes a sleepy sound and shifts underneath the blankets and L’s heart starts to race.
“…Sungyeol?”
“Hyung, you mean,” the voice says and it’s too familiar. “I’m still your hyung, even if it’s too early in the morning to be woken up and you might think I am too sleepy to realise.”
L is still unconvinced, and he leans over the sleeping figure and tugs away the blankets. It is Sungyeol, Sungyeol with his dark, undyed hair and closed eyes and perfect lips and L can only gape.
Sungyeol finds him like this when his eyelids flicker open, L with his wide eyes and parted mouth and Sungyeol throws a pillow at him. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing in my bed?”
“What I’d like to know is what you were doing to me last night. With your tongue,” Sungyeol says and he grins as L feels his cheeks flush.
He flops back down, onto his side of the bed, and suddenly the memories start to surge back. He does kiss Sungyeol, sometime between their first win and second, and Infinite does disband, but only after an illustrious run, and Hyemin is pretty and talented but they only sees her on dramas. And now Sungyeol is in his bed and they share an apartment and-“I have a dog?” he asks abruptly, confused.
“We have a puppy,” Sungyeol corrects him, and he still sounds sleepy but tranquil and L is still skirting the edges of rationality. He stretches an arm out across L’s chest. “But he’s not awake yet. Can’t hear the yelps.”
L just lies there and breathes in and breathes out and Sunguyeol is still there, next to him. Myungsoo actually did it. He leans over and kisses Sungyeol cautiously, not only because he finally can, but also because it’s different when it’s done in reality instead of in brief snatches of memories. Sungyeol’s fingers tighten lazily across his shirt.
They've done this countless times over.
And this is exactly what things should feel like, to be back to being Myungsoo, unsure but courageous enough and despairingly in love, like how he started off all those years ago.
+ formspring
+ concrit
Pairing: L/Sungyeol
Rating: G
how to be his
Stranger things have happened in Seoul, Myungsoo tells himself as he stares at the card in his hand. The agency’s address is not far from here. He moves to place the card in his back pocket, because I’ll think about it later and Moonsoo’s going to laugh at me when a voice comes, from right behind him, “You should go for the audition.”
Myungsoo whirls around and almost slips because there’s a strange man, standing way too close to him. He has dark sunglasses on and his hair is perfectly styled and he gives Myungsoo a tentative smile.
“Are you one of their scouts?”
The man shakes his head. “I need you to go to this audition. You’re going to make it in as the first member of this new group. You’re going to end up famous, you and your group, but there are some things I need you change.”
Stranger people live in Seoul, but still Myungsoo backs away slowly. “Who are you?”
The man’s mouth twists itself into a line and that’s enough for Myungsoo to know he’s struggling with the truth and Myungsoo backs away another step. The man sighs. “My name is L. You know how they say we don’t get second chances? They were wrong.”
The man, L, convinces Myungsoo to talk over coffee and he orders himself an iced mocha while L takes his coffee black.
“If you’re supposed to be me,” Myungsoo says carefully, “then why aren’t you drinking what I like?”
L takes off his sunglasses and he does look like Myungsoo, just older and less self-conscious and weary. More worn. “Tastes change,” he says and suddenly it occurs to Myungsoo that L knows the future, his future - he’s lived through it. “I can’t tell you everything, I’m sorry,” L says immediately, reading the way Mungsoo grips his cup and he deflates. “I can just tell you what I need you to change.”
He tells Myungsoo to listen carefully, that there will be a boy, tall and ridiculously funny and confident. He has pretty eyes. Prettier fingers ("Pretty fingers? What do you mean?" but L cuts him off and tells him he'll understand when he sees the boy). He also tells him this boy will get married to an actress, one you haven’t heard of yet, and you’re going to be his best man and you’re going to get ridiculously drunk and say things that should have been said weeks and months or maybe even years earlier.
“…I don’t like boys,” Myungsoo says helplessly and he means it: he likes girls with long, wavy hair and big eyes who laugh at his jokes, no matter how trivial.
“I know,” L says and he looks somewhat confused. “I don’t understand this either but you like him. I like him. I can’t explain it to you but you will know when you meet him. It’s…different.”
“What’s his name?”
“Go to the audition,” L says. Desperation weaves its way into his voice and Myungsoo digs the card out from his pocket. It’s folded and creased and Myungsoo wonders if it’s some sort of forewarning. “I can’t tell you but you’re going to know when you meet him. Good luck,” he says and it sounds like a plea.
He leaves the coffee house after paying the bill and Myungsoo reaches gingerly for the cup of dark coffee in front of him. It’s way too sweet and it’s bitter under all that sugar and Myungsoo makes a face before reaching for his own cup of creamier, milder coffee.
“Hi, I’m Lee Sungyeol,” the boy says, dropping a duffle bag by his feet and there’s a cup of coffee in his hand and Myungsoo tilts his head.
“Black coffee?”
Sungyeol nods slowly, nonplussed.
“I’m Kim Myungsoo,” he says carefully and his heart quickens painfully.
L watches him, because Myungsoo can feel the prickling at the back of his neck, when he’s walking out of the dorm and into the van to be ferried to the practice studios or vocal lessons.
He thinks he knows why L has such an intense stare, because they make Myungsoo practice it: in front of the mirrors, the acting teachers, the CEO even. Your eyes will be your selling point, they tell him proudly and he thinks of L’s smoldering gaze and everything seems to be falling into place.
Sungyeol is…difficult at first, because he’s moody and he shifts from sharing his contraband snacks with Myungsoo to ignoring him when all the trainees gather for dinner, sitting cross-legged and packed together in the living room. Sungyeol will sit at the corner of the room, radiating frustration.
“He’s just angry he has to use this route to become an actor,” L explains to Myungsoo one day, when it’s in the middle of the night and they’re both in the room because his roommate is back home, trying to settle a family emergency. Myungsoo nods. “It won’t last, don’t worry.”
“Don’t you have anything to do other than watch me?” Myungsoo asks, and L straightens. There’s a pause.
“I have a lot of time on my hands these days,” L says carefully but there’s this poignancy entwined in his words, just shallow enough to be registered. It’s enough for Myungsoo’s fist to clench tightly around the blanket-his future doesn’t look all that promising. L is looking out the window and Myungsoo wonders if he will go to Sungyeol’s room next, to watch him or talk to him or just change things himself, as L and not as Myungsoo.
“It’s going to be okay,” Myungsoo says, bringing a palm up to touch L’s arm and L turns back to him and gives him a half-smile. It’s ironic, because it’s only the next morning that Myungsoo realises that L already knows it’s not going to be all right.
Myungsoo starts sharing his coffee with Sungyeol because his parents send him packets of instant coffee and every time he offers Sungyeol his cup, in between the hazy moments of practice or exercise or waiting for the shower, Sungyeol lights up.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks and his words are warm, contented.
“Because we’re friends,” Myungsoo says, drinking casually from the same spot Sungyeol’s lips were pressed too, barely a second ago, “and friends do things like this.”
Sungyeol laughs, loud and staccato, and Myungsoo’s breath hitches quietly. L must remember this, Myungsoo thinks, because he is never going to forget what falling in love feels like.
Myungsoo makes other friends like Lee Sungjong and acquaintances like Lee Sunggyu, but he never shares his coffee with them.
“They are going to talk about this on some interview,” L says with amusement one day as Myungsoo is making another cup of coffee and stops stirring. His roommate, Youngjun, is still in Busan. “How you only ever share your coffee with Sungyeol.”
“Should I start sharing it with them?”
“It’s up to you,” he says evenly and Myungsoo grins because they both know they’re not going to.
“Thanks,” Myungsoo says gleefully after a beat, as he blows at the steam from the top of the cup and L looks at him the usual way Myungsoo looks at him: head tilted, mouth pressed to a soft line. Confusion. It’s a nice change, not to be the one left in the dark for once. “Now I know who four members of the group are.”
Sometimes Sungyeol says he’s sick and he’s supposed to be at the hospital but he’s in his room, sitting with back pressed to the door. This is when Myungsoo would miss his acting lessons or vocal practice to sit next to Sungyeol, a cup of coffee between them.
Sungyeol’s room is more orderly than his own, and his bags are always packed, placed at the corner of the room.
“Why haven’t you unpacked yet?” Myungsoo asks. They’re sitting close enough for their knees to touch.
“For emergency escapes,” Sungyeol says, curling his fingers around the handle of the cup. Sungyeol has nice fingers.
“We’ll debut soon,” Myungsoo replies and he hopes it’s reassuring enough. He looks at their knees and wonders what it would be like if Sungyeol’s nice fingers were splayed across his knee, if they made their careful way upwards, high then higher: past his thigh and-
Sungyeol sighs and leans his head against Myungsoo’s shoulder. “Sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. But,” he says, brightening slightly, “I think about your instant coffee and I’m a little bit more sure.”
All Myungsoo really needs to do is turn his head and he can explain the way his lips brush against Sungyeol’s cheek as an accident if he has to. But Myungsoo doesn’t and this is his first mistake.
“You didn’t kiss him, did you?”
Myungsoo colours. Mind your own business, he wants to say but he can’t. “I think you know the answer.”
L turns away angrily. His fingers are clenched: exasperation.
“It would be easier if you told me what the situation would be in advance so I can take advantage of it.”
“I can’t.”
“Then there are going to be more missed opportunities.”
“I know,” L snarls with such finality that Myungsoo feels a shiver of apprehension make its way down his spine, because what happens two or four or eight years down the line that makes L this discontented?
They are finalized as seven boys and they’re called Infinite and they officially debut on a Friday. Myungsoo likes how Sungjong is the maknae, flightly and wide-eyed; how Sunggyu is their leader, because he expects discipline and precision, how Dongwoo laughs and how Woohyun can cook them dubu jjigae in the middle of the nights but most of all, it is Sungyeol he likes.
Sungyeol beams after the managers congratulate them and he clutches Myungsoo’s hand at the back of the tiny kitchen, because the dorm is a lot less crowded these days and everyone has a bit more breathing space.
Myungsoo can almost see how the future changes in this moment, if he could just lean in but his heart anchors his feet to the ground and Sungyeol is too jumpy, too hopeful, too much his best friend and group member.
Mistake one point five: he can almost feel L’s disdain staining the air.
By Saturday, he’s forgotten about L because there are practices after practices, dress rehearsals and practice interviews. It’s only when a few weeks pass that he remembers L but he never sees him or feels his eyes on him and it’s like L never existed.
It’s only on the third week of their debut stage, when the makeup-noona is dabbing bb cream across his face that Myungsoo stares into the mirror and registers with a lurch that he is L.
Mistake number two happens in Singapore, when they’re in the hotel room and Sungyeol has a fever. L has his chest against Sungyeol’s back, arms wrapped around him. Sungyeol is shivering even though his skin is heated and sticky with sweat and it would be so, so easy to press a kiss to the back of Sungyeol’s neck.
Mistake number three: when they win their first award and they’re celebrating with soju and the CEO and managers are turning a blind eye at the accumulating bottles at the table. “It’s like we were trainees just yesterday,” Sungyeol whispers into his ear because there is noise everywhere and his voice is bright and clear even though his words blur off at the edges. L feels warmth (happiness and desire and satisfaction) blooming through him and Sungyeol just smiles back at him.
Mistake number four happens as they’re filming and there are puppies running everywhere and people are laughing and there are barks. The lights from the cameras bounce off the marble floors and everything is downed in light and it makes L think that nothing could go wrong, if only he tried. He doesn’t.
The future is overtaking L, and he loses count of the mistakes until Sungyeol’s wedding arrives.
Her name is Hyemin and she’s almost as tall as Sungyeol.
She has an earnest smile and a quick tongue and she’s one of the prettiest girls L has ever seen, with her wavy hair and rosy skin, on screen and off. L thinks he could have fallen in love with her too, but he can't because he's in love with Sungyeol who is in love with her. Perhaps in another life or time, things could have been simpler.
They get married a year and a half after Infinite’s disbandment. Dongwoo is the MC and Woohyun is the best man and L is the other best man, but Woohyun is competent enough by himself so L’s at the bar, taking calculated shots of vodka.
The bartender looks unsympathetic when he tries to order his fifth shot and he leaves to make his way back to the celebrations. He can see Hyemin, in her dress of silk and tulle; hair knotted simply to the side, standing in the middle of her group of friends and before he knows it, he has found Sungyeol and his hand snakes itself around Sungyeol’s wrist and he’s tugging incessantly at it.
“Myungsoo,” Sungyeol says, surprised, as L leads him to a corner, and then his expression falters. “You’re drunk.”
He shakes his head. Warm and regretful and fucking frustrated, yes, but not drunk. Yet.
“I know she loves you.”
Sungyeol nods slowly, and it makes L think of their first meeting: coffee and duffle bags.
L licks his lips. “But you can’t marry her.” His hand is still wrapped around Sungyeol’s wrist and he can feel Sungyeol starting to tremble.
“Myungsoo-”
“I’m not Myungsoo, I’m L,” he says desperately and that’s the problem. Myungsoo might have had a chance at this but L, L never did. “I love yo-”
Sungyeol jerks his hand from L’s grip and soon his hands are on L’s shoulders and his fingers are pressing painful half-moons into his skin, through the suit. He’s keeping L steady because Sungyeol is staring to spin in his vision. “Don’t do this to me,” he says, and his voice is a slow burn: an equal mix of anger and disappointment, “I love her and I’m going to marry her, Myungsoo. There’s nothing that can change that.”
By this time, Howon and Sunggyu have noticed the commotion and are making their way towards them and L can see Hyemin looking over in their direction.
Howon holds him steady and helps him outside as Sunggyu trails behind him and before they leave the ballroom, L turns back to see Sungyeol walking Hyemin back to their table, his hand on the small of her back and she’s leaning into him as he speaks, his mouth millimeters from her ear. L can feel his stomach churn and at least he can blame that on the alcohol.
Outside, in the balmy night, L throws up on the sidewalk as Sunggyu helps him to his knees as he rubs circles into his back and Howon stands at the edge of the curb, arm in the air as he tries to hail a taxi.
L is convulsing so hard he's pretty sure his body is trying to rid itself of the tint of Sungyeol; the way his gums show when he smiles and the way he holds his mike, like he's still unsure about this whole singing thing and his confidence and the way he sleeps, limbs tucked close to his body.
Sunggyu doesn’t say anything but L can feel the admonishment and pity from his gaze. Once a leader, always a leader but also a friend. I should thank him and apologize, L thinks in between everything but that would mean throwing up all over Sunggyu’s suit, and he’s definitely done enough damage already.
He wonders if Sungyeol is still his friend, let alone his best friend. His throat and his eyes and his heart all burn simultaneously.
Sungjong is the first one to call him, five days after the wedding.
“What people need are second chances,” Sungjong says soothingly and L looks around at his apartment, airy and spacious and empty.
“What I need is a third chance,” he sighs and suddenly static overtakes the line. “Sungjong? Hello?”
One more chance, the static warbles, thick with interference, your last one.
And suddenly, L understands.
“Hyung? Hyung, what do you mean? What happened?” Sungjong’s voice returns, confused. “Hyung?”
“I’ll call you back, Sungjong,” he says as he ends the call. He doesn’t even think; he just grabs a coat and a pair of sunglasses that sit on the side of the table and makes his way, out into the cold air.
He finds Myungsoo in Hongdae, wandering around with a card in hand, a thick muffler around his neck.
“Go to the audition,” L says as he approaches the boy. Myungsoo doesn’t look surprised this time, to see a random man emerge from the crowd only to tell him to do something like this. Perhaps he is already conscious of how precarious his situation-their situation is.
L feels his mind working as he stares at Myungsoo, back to the memories, the mistakes, the should-haves and would-haves.
“You're from my future," he says and his tone wavers, as though daring L to correct him. L in silent. Myungsoo inhales and continues, "What can you tell me,” he says and his eyes are serious even though his fear is palpable.
“Kiss him after you win your first award,” he says, and Myungsoo’s eyes widen.
“Kiss who? What award? What are you talking about?”
L gives it three seconds of thought and then, Screw the rules.
“His name is Lee Sungyeol,” he says. “MNet Countdown." And then L has to smile, a bitter one that doesn't reach his eyes, because it's so ironic: he tells Myungsoo the name of the song they win their first award for and Myungsoo starts to laugh.
"Someone has a sense of humour," he says and L's smile falls as the reality of everything settles in. This is his final chance.
"You have to succeed, for the both of us. Please."
The bright side is that they're still friends, because Sungyeol calls him, out of the blue one day.
"Hyemin is pregnant," he says and even from the earpiece L can tell Sungyeol is emitting pride.
"Congratulations," L feels himself say automatically. The downside is that he reels as he tries to process the information even though it shouldn't be this shocking, because marriage and new houses and children all come together. A packaged dream.
"How are you? We should meet up one day, for coffee or something." He sounds more subdued now and L can imagine him, in a plain tee and shorts after coming back from the set, sitting at the edge of the couch.
"Maybe," L starts but he can see Sungyeol's soft eyes and the curve of Hyemin's body and he falters. "Maybe next time."
The screen cracks when the phone meets the wall. L changes his number the next day.
L has a king-sized bed, four hundred threadcount sheets and just like the rest of his apartment, too much space.
It’s been two months since he’s last seen Myungsoo, at Hongdae.
L sighs and shifts, throwing his arms out to stretch. His right hand lands onto a solid object and L recoils immediately, sitting up quickly and turning to the side. His breath catches in this throat because there’s someone sleeping in his bed, hidden under a mess of blankets and pillows.
He pokes an exposed arm tentatively. The body makes a sleepy sound and shifts underneath the blankets and L’s heart starts to race.
“…Sungyeol?”
“Hyung, you mean,” the voice says and it’s too familiar. “I’m still your hyung, even if it’s too early in the morning to be woken up and you might think I am too sleepy to realise.”
L is still unconvinced, and he leans over the sleeping figure and tugs away the blankets. It is Sungyeol, Sungyeol with his dark, undyed hair and closed eyes and perfect lips and L can only gape.
Sungyeol finds him like this when his eyelids flicker open, L with his wide eyes and parted mouth and Sungyeol throws a pillow at him. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing in my bed?”
“What I’d like to know is what you were doing to me last night. With your tongue,” Sungyeol says and he grins as L feels his cheeks flush.
He flops back down, onto his side of the bed, and suddenly the memories start to surge back. He does kiss Sungyeol, sometime between their first win and second, and Infinite does disband, but only after an illustrious run, and Hyemin is pretty and talented but they only sees her on dramas. And now Sungyeol is in his bed and they share an apartment and-“I have a dog?” he asks abruptly, confused.
“We have a puppy,” Sungyeol corrects him, and he still sounds sleepy but tranquil and L is still skirting the edges of rationality. He stretches an arm out across L’s chest. “But he’s not awake yet. Can’t hear the yelps.”
L just lies there and breathes in and breathes out and Sunguyeol is still there, next to him. Myungsoo actually did it. He leans over and kisses Sungyeol cautiously, not only because he finally can, but also because it’s different when it’s done in reality instead of in brief snatches of memories. Sungyeol’s fingers tighten lazily across his shirt.
They've done this countless times over.
And this is exactly what things should feel like, to be back to being Myungsoo, unsure but courageous enough and despairingly in love, like how he started off all those years ago.
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