in blood and war ( myungsoo x sungjong, pg-13 )
Title: In Blood and War
Summary: When Kim Myungsoo was twenty-two, he was turned into a vampire.
Rating: pg-13
A/N: Word count is 2,500. Based off A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. Written because my brain reaaaally likes the idea of a vampire Myungsoo.
When Kim Myungsoo was twenty-two, he was turned into a vampire.
The man who’d done it, he didn’t know, doesn’t even remember the face nor the name to go with it; all he can remember is being stalked on the way to his brother’s wedding by someone dressed entirely out of the ordinary, and waking up the next morning (or however many days later) feeling thirstier and emptier than he’s ever felt. Whoever done it had taken the liberty of keeping him in their house, paint fading and wallpaper peeling and the carpet covered in weird, unidentifiable stains. It didn’t take him long to realise, when his throat lead him to search the house for drinkable liquid and he’d found a stock of blood in the fridge, what exactly had happened.
He’d promptly poked his finger into his mouth, felt the sharp sting of pain as it scraped against a fang and screamed. He’d left the house soon after, desperate to get away from it all, hoping it was just a vivid dream where the last few days of his life seemed too boring to remember. A newspaper dropped on the ground had a small article printed about him going missing and his family grieving and praying he would come home, but he tried his best not to think of them, knowing full well that he couldn’t return because they would see what he’d become. The thought had hurt a little, heart fluttering sadly in his chest, and he’d thrown the loose pages to the ground again, watching them scatter in the wind.
Within weeks, he’d moved to an isolated part of the city so no one would recognise his face, purchased a small house in a quiet street where he wouldn’t be disturbed and tried, really really tried, to live as normally as possible. He figured out all the rules pretty quickly: sleeping isn’t necessary, but recommended; any blood to drink will do, but human food can satisfy for a short time; only a few hours sunlight exposure before it starts to hurt…he isn’t cruel, he drinks only to survive and never out of malicious intent, but every time he manages to capture a fox or wild dog, the pangs of another lost life never really go away.
He disposed of the bodies in the woods, making them look as natural as possible and really, they were. Just like any other creature in the food chain, he has to survive, it’s innate. Yet it doesn’t feel like it, even a little bit; afterwards, he washes the taste down with as much human food as his body will let him eat, knowing that will make him only slightly normal, only slightly similar to his neighbours. But he’ll never be normal, not at all, because he’s got fangs and a weird aversion to sunlight and kills wild animals because he has to.
When he first arrived, he managed to secure a job as the night-shift employee of the local 24-hour supermarket, working alongside one other man named Nam Woohyun. Woohyun worked the register while Myungsoo did other general shop duties, often not speaking to each other, working in routine in complete silence just because they both liked it that way. When the daytime manager, Sunggyu, came to relieve them at 6am, neither of them said a word as they gathered their things and left the building.
Myungsoo knew, of course, that he wouldn’t age, constantly needing to move houses and apartments so no one would realise, having the belief that one day, he would just wake up and decide not to drink anymore and eventually die of thirst. That was part of the reason he worked: he didn’t necessarily need to (back when he was still human, his family were wealthy enough to afford nice things, and he had access to the funds, even now) but it made him seem normal, human, the same; it also maintained his own sense of freedom, even though he felt anything but free in what he did. Apartments cost money, so do clothes and furniture that wouldn’t make everything look outdated and weird and he always wanted to keep it fully stocked with human food to gorge on after drinking. He can’t even taste the food that much, apparently his taste buds changed in the process, but anything tastes better than the vile, bitter sting of mortal blood.
He stayed in the quiet house in the village for twelve years before he decided it was time to move on, finding a small apartment on the third floor of a building just 50 miles from his old place.
The trouble starts when Sungjong, a boy a year younger than Myungsoo (well, in human years anyway) moves in next door.
*
Myungsoo’s first impression of Sungjong is that he is stubborn, persistent and clearly doesn’t understand what “go away” actually means. Being new neighbours, Sungjong takes it upon himself, so he says, to introduce himself personally to all other people living on this floor, so that he knows to count on them if there’s ever an emergency, but he doesn’t understand that Myungsoo wants to be alone, doesn’t generally like the presence of other people nor does he want to speak to the cheerful kid. Even before being turned, he was introverted and arrogant, something he couldn’t help, always seeming to make enemies before making friends.
It got to the twenty-first time of Sungjong knocking that Myungsoo had it, forcefully pulling the door open and staring at the guy in front of him. His whole appearance and the way he held himself grinds Myungsoo’s gears and he immediately wants to slam the door back in his face; he looks so damn proud that he’d finally got the grumpy and moody vampire to open the door to his apartment.
“What?” Myungsoo asks, irritated.
“I’m your new neighbour, Sungjong,” he introduces himself with an overly smug smile and he thrusts his hand in front of Myungsoo’s face, as if expecting him to shake it. The older does nothing but stare at it, then focuses his eyes back on the tiny kid in front of him.
“That’s nice,” Myungsoo mutters, turning around to close the door again but before he can, Sungjong pushes the door back open with his hand.
“Can I come in?” He says, practically forcing himself into Myungsoo’s apartment before he can approve. He’s wearing tight jeans and a colourful shirt, out of place next to his own dark ones; he watches the boy look admiringly around the room, nodding his head slightly in acceptance, and then he turns to Myungsoo.
“I like your apartment,” he says, smiling, but Myungsoo only grumbles, cocking his head in the direction of the door so Sungjong will just get out and leave him alone. It doesn’t take him long to get the hint, walking towards the door slowly as if to deliberately annoy Myungsoo even more, and when he’s back in the hallway, he bows, bidding farewell and leaving for the next unfortunate neighbour.
Myungsoo locks the door, going back to what he was doing, praying against all odds that Sungjong doesn’t come back, although even he knows, despite how much he wishes he didn’t, that the kid will and he will once again force himself into the life of a neighbour that he’ll regret having.
Everyone knows vampires are monsters, why on earth would Sungjong think any different? To him and everyone else, vampires are killers with no sense of morality, no remorse, just brutal and gross and uncontrollable. At first, it was hard for him to control his thirst, he will admit that; at some point, he was wholly tempted to taste human blood instead of the insatiable sort from an animal, but then he remembered how he felt, how alone and disgusted with himself he was, how much it hurt to claim he was missing to his whole family, and he stopped wanting to be that kind of vampire. He stopped wanting to be that type of person. The constant need for blood was annoying, but eventually, with self-control, he just got used to the feeling, pushing it to the back of his brain.
So, several months later, when Sungjong and Myungsoo have established some strange sort of friendship (even though Sungjong is just always there and he kind of gets of Myungsoo’s nerves), he finally decides to tell the younger boy about him. They’re at the point in their relationship, he thinks, that they’re comfortable enough with each other. Sungjong is keen to accept his requests for skinship and sometimes stays over the night just talking. On the nights when Sungjong can’t sleep (a regular occurrence), Myungsoo claims he’s an insomniac and heads over to Sungjong’s apartment to keep him company. He’s not sure why he does it: it’s a dangerous move, because Sungjong is exactly the type of person that Myungsoo doesn’t trust - his interest in gossip and the pitiful whispers that people share makes him especially worried - but it feels right to tell someone, even if that person happens to be Sungjong.
“You know,” he says offhandedly, out of blue, flicking through a book while Sungjong lies on his stomach on Myungsoo’s couch. “I’m a vampire.”
Sungjong falls off the couch laughing.
*
In the end, for whatever bizarre reason, Sungjong believes him and doesn’t seem at all phased by the idea. He doesn’t run, hide, scream, attempt to kill him or threaten to call the police. In fact, he seems to like the fact, eyes as wide as the moon, back straight, leaning forward in anticipation to ask him the questions every human demands. Honestly, though, Myungsoo doesn’t mind because a) he’s not considered a monster or a freak in the eyes of the younger boy, and b) he’s not currently a target for the police or any other type of quarantine agency because of what he is. Myungsoo is polite enough to oblige.
“How are you able to stay around humans without wanting their blood?” He asks, voice nothing more than a high-pitched, curious whisper.
Myungsoo thinks for a moment, “It’s like when a human walks into a restaurant. They can smell the food and it smells good, but they don’t necessarily want everything on the menu.” Myungsoo cracks a sarcastic smile in spite of himself and Sungjong laughs shortly.
“Can you turn into a bat?”
“Myth,” Myungsoo says, shaking his head slightly.
“Have you tried?” Sungjong smirks, pushing his face closer to Myungsoo’s to accuse the older playfully. Myungsoo’s ears turn pink, mildly embarrassed because Sungjong already caught him.
“Yes,” he admits, lowering his head in shame, and Sungjong lets a chuckle slip out through his teeth.
“What about sunlight? Do you burn to dust if you go outside?” Sungjong grins again, tilting his head, like he’s letting Myungsoo know that he’s not serious about this question, and for some reason he can’t look away from his face. His smile is radiant; it seems to brighten the whole room, make everything look a little bit happier, give it more life. Sungjong doesn’t seem to notice the effect he’s having on Myungsoo’s entire brain, body and soul.
“Another myth. The sun hurts after more than 6 hours outside, though.” Myungsoo nods, grinning as well. In that moment, with Sungjong smiling at him beautifully and asking him ridiculous questions even though he knows the answers, Myungsoo realises he loves him, the thought scaring him sick. He knows that Sungjong is a human - he’s mortal, one day he will die like every other human - and Myungsoo will live for as long as his survival skills allow; he’s waited for love for so long, being already over seventy years old in vampire age, spending most of his youth (both as a human and as a vampire) fantasising and wanting the chance to love someone, anyone, who doesn’t see the fangs more than the smile. Someone who’s willing to accept him for him.
It scares him that that person is Sungjong, a mortal, a human, his neighbour and his only friend. Someone as young as Sungjong doesn’t deserve to be stuck beside him, he deserves to be in the world, exploring and making his dreams come true; he shouldn’t want to sacrifice his whole future, his whole life, for the sake of a moody and short-tempered middle-aged vampire whose only goal was to survive each day. Sungjong didn’t need that kind of responsibility.
“Hmm,” Sungjong thinks, looking towards the ceiling for inspiration. “What about garlic?”
Myungsoo chuckles, “it makes me cry, like onions do to a human.”
“Do you sleep in a coffin?” He asks teasingly.
“You’ve seen my bed, Sungjong.”
“Are you immortal?”
Myungsoo sighs. He was dreading this question. “Yes,” he responds.
“So you never age?”
Myungsoo shakes his head, “No. I’ve looked the same for seventy years, aged twenty-two.”
Sungjong looks at him in awe, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He blinks a few times and shakes his head as if to convince himself Myungsoo’s answer wasn’t real. Maybe Myungsoo never realised before; he’s kind of been in love with Sungjong for his whole life, waiting and hoping he would be able to find him but time, the precious gift most people seem to hate, brought Sungjong into his apartment, into his life and into his heart that day. He’s suddenly grateful, the feeling hitting him hard.
“I’d love to stop time,” Sungjong mentions offhandedly, flicking his wrist in some dramatic fashion, as if to emphasise his point. “You’d never have to get old, you’d never die. You can live forever, if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to live forever,” Myungsoo says, clicking his tongue in slight irritation. “It’s not as fun as you think, being seen as a beast to everyone and having to move every few years so people don’t recognise that I never age. I had to pretend I was missing, knowing I couldn’t see my family again, and now they’re all dead; they lived their lives wondering in vain whether I was alive or not.”
Myungsoo sighs, trying to make Sungjong understand.
“I can never be in a relationship,” his eyes dart to Sungjong, staring at him. “At least, not with a human anyway. I can’t let myself fall in love when I know they’re not immortal, when I know they’re not going to stay; I’m much too cowardly to deal with the heartbreak.”
Sungjong purses his lips, thinking. “I guess,” he says shortly, not bothering to elaborate. In a minute, he’s draped back over the sofa on his front, face pressed into a pillow, just relaxing. Myungsoo glances at him, admiring the way his back curves femininely and the way he breathes, slow and steady.
Before he can stop himself, the words fall out of his throat. “I still have a heart. I still want to love, even I’m afraid to.”
Sungjong lifts his head up to smile, resting his chin on his forearms. “I know, hyung. And you will, one day; it’s only natural."
Maybe in this moment, right now, Sungjong is too naïve and doesn’t realise Myungsoo is referring to him. He’s still got an awful lot to learn about life and the world in general, young at heart and eager to explore. Or maybe he does know - he may be inexperienced but he’s definitely not stupid - and is just waiting right alongside Myungsoo, like he has been, all his life. Maybe Sungjong was looking for him too.
Myungsoo doesn’t know how to read Sungjong sometimes. He’s different on many occasions, knowing when to play a role and when to be himself, and he’s complicated. He has a huge superiority complex and the world’s most smug smile, but as he rests his head on Myungsoo’s lap in affection - whether out of brotherhood or anything more - Myungsoo thinks he definitely wouldn’t have him any other way.
Summary: When Kim Myungsoo was twenty-two, he was turned into a vampire.
Rating: pg-13
A/N: Word count is 2,500. Based off A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. Written because my brain reaaaally likes the idea of a vampire Myungsoo.
When Kim Myungsoo was twenty-two, he was turned into a vampire.
The man who’d done it, he didn’t know, doesn’t even remember the face nor the name to go with it; all he can remember is being stalked on the way to his brother’s wedding by someone dressed entirely out of the ordinary, and waking up the next morning (or however many days later) feeling thirstier and emptier than he’s ever felt. Whoever done it had taken the liberty of keeping him in their house, paint fading and wallpaper peeling and the carpet covered in weird, unidentifiable stains. It didn’t take him long to realise, when his throat lead him to search the house for drinkable liquid and he’d found a stock of blood in the fridge, what exactly had happened.
He’d promptly poked his finger into his mouth, felt the sharp sting of pain as it scraped against a fang and screamed. He’d left the house soon after, desperate to get away from it all, hoping it was just a vivid dream where the last few days of his life seemed too boring to remember. A newspaper dropped on the ground had a small article printed about him going missing and his family grieving and praying he would come home, but he tried his best not to think of them, knowing full well that he couldn’t return because they would see what he’d become. The thought had hurt a little, heart fluttering sadly in his chest, and he’d thrown the loose pages to the ground again, watching them scatter in the wind.
Within weeks, he’d moved to an isolated part of the city so no one would recognise his face, purchased a small house in a quiet street where he wouldn’t be disturbed and tried, really really tried, to live as normally as possible. He figured out all the rules pretty quickly: sleeping isn’t necessary, but recommended; any blood to drink will do, but human food can satisfy for a short time; only a few hours sunlight exposure before it starts to hurt…he isn’t cruel, he drinks only to survive and never out of malicious intent, but every time he manages to capture a fox or wild dog, the pangs of another lost life never really go away.
He disposed of the bodies in the woods, making them look as natural as possible and really, they were. Just like any other creature in the food chain, he has to survive, it’s innate. Yet it doesn’t feel like it, even a little bit; afterwards, he washes the taste down with as much human food as his body will let him eat, knowing that will make him only slightly normal, only slightly similar to his neighbours. But he’ll never be normal, not at all, because he’s got fangs and a weird aversion to sunlight and kills wild animals because he has to.
When he first arrived, he managed to secure a job as the night-shift employee of the local 24-hour supermarket, working alongside one other man named Nam Woohyun. Woohyun worked the register while Myungsoo did other general shop duties, often not speaking to each other, working in routine in complete silence just because they both liked it that way. When the daytime manager, Sunggyu, came to relieve them at 6am, neither of them said a word as they gathered their things and left the building.
Myungsoo knew, of course, that he wouldn’t age, constantly needing to move houses and apartments so no one would realise, having the belief that one day, he would just wake up and decide not to drink anymore and eventually die of thirst. That was part of the reason he worked: he didn’t necessarily need to (back when he was still human, his family were wealthy enough to afford nice things, and he had access to the funds, even now) but it made him seem normal, human, the same; it also maintained his own sense of freedom, even though he felt anything but free in what he did. Apartments cost money, so do clothes and furniture that wouldn’t make everything look outdated and weird and he always wanted to keep it fully stocked with human food to gorge on after drinking. He can’t even taste the food that much, apparently his taste buds changed in the process, but anything tastes better than the vile, bitter sting of mortal blood.
He stayed in the quiet house in the village for twelve years before he decided it was time to move on, finding a small apartment on the third floor of a building just 50 miles from his old place.
The trouble starts when Sungjong, a boy a year younger than Myungsoo (well, in human years anyway) moves in next door.
*
Myungsoo’s first impression of Sungjong is that he is stubborn, persistent and clearly doesn’t understand what “go away” actually means. Being new neighbours, Sungjong takes it upon himself, so he says, to introduce himself personally to all other people living on this floor, so that he knows to count on them if there’s ever an emergency, but he doesn’t understand that Myungsoo wants to be alone, doesn’t generally like the presence of other people nor does he want to speak to the cheerful kid. Even before being turned, he was introverted and arrogant, something he couldn’t help, always seeming to make enemies before making friends.
It got to the twenty-first time of Sungjong knocking that Myungsoo had it, forcefully pulling the door open and staring at the guy in front of him. His whole appearance and the way he held himself grinds Myungsoo’s gears and he immediately wants to slam the door back in his face; he looks so damn proud that he’d finally got the grumpy and moody vampire to open the door to his apartment.
“What?” Myungsoo asks, irritated.
“I’m your new neighbour, Sungjong,” he introduces himself with an overly smug smile and he thrusts his hand in front of Myungsoo’s face, as if expecting him to shake it. The older does nothing but stare at it, then focuses his eyes back on the tiny kid in front of him.
“That’s nice,” Myungsoo mutters, turning around to close the door again but before he can, Sungjong pushes the door back open with his hand.
“Can I come in?” He says, practically forcing himself into Myungsoo’s apartment before he can approve. He’s wearing tight jeans and a colourful shirt, out of place next to his own dark ones; he watches the boy look admiringly around the room, nodding his head slightly in acceptance, and then he turns to Myungsoo.
“I like your apartment,” he says, smiling, but Myungsoo only grumbles, cocking his head in the direction of the door so Sungjong will just get out and leave him alone. It doesn’t take him long to get the hint, walking towards the door slowly as if to deliberately annoy Myungsoo even more, and when he’s back in the hallway, he bows, bidding farewell and leaving for the next unfortunate neighbour.
Myungsoo locks the door, going back to what he was doing, praying against all odds that Sungjong doesn’t come back, although even he knows, despite how much he wishes he didn’t, that the kid will and he will once again force himself into the life of a neighbour that he’ll regret having.
Everyone knows vampires are monsters, why on earth would Sungjong think any different? To him and everyone else, vampires are killers with no sense of morality, no remorse, just brutal and gross and uncontrollable. At first, it was hard for him to control his thirst, he will admit that; at some point, he was wholly tempted to taste human blood instead of the insatiable sort from an animal, but then he remembered how he felt, how alone and disgusted with himself he was, how much it hurt to claim he was missing to his whole family, and he stopped wanting to be that kind of vampire. He stopped wanting to be that type of person. The constant need for blood was annoying, but eventually, with self-control, he just got used to the feeling, pushing it to the back of his brain.
So, several months later, when Sungjong and Myungsoo have established some strange sort of friendship (even though Sungjong is just always there and he kind of gets of Myungsoo’s nerves), he finally decides to tell the younger boy about him. They’re at the point in their relationship, he thinks, that they’re comfortable enough with each other. Sungjong is keen to accept his requests for skinship and sometimes stays over the night just talking. On the nights when Sungjong can’t sleep (a regular occurrence), Myungsoo claims he’s an insomniac and heads over to Sungjong’s apartment to keep him company. He’s not sure why he does it: it’s a dangerous move, because Sungjong is exactly the type of person that Myungsoo doesn’t trust - his interest in gossip and the pitiful whispers that people share makes him especially worried - but it feels right to tell someone, even if that person happens to be Sungjong.
“You know,” he says offhandedly, out of blue, flicking through a book while Sungjong lies on his stomach on Myungsoo’s couch. “I’m a vampire.”
Sungjong falls off the couch laughing.
*
In the end, for whatever bizarre reason, Sungjong believes him and doesn’t seem at all phased by the idea. He doesn’t run, hide, scream, attempt to kill him or threaten to call the police. In fact, he seems to like the fact, eyes as wide as the moon, back straight, leaning forward in anticipation to ask him the questions every human demands. Honestly, though, Myungsoo doesn’t mind because a) he’s not considered a monster or a freak in the eyes of the younger boy, and b) he’s not currently a target for the police or any other type of quarantine agency because of what he is. Myungsoo is polite enough to oblige.
“How are you able to stay around humans without wanting their blood?” He asks, voice nothing more than a high-pitched, curious whisper.
Myungsoo thinks for a moment, “It’s like when a human walks into a restaurant. They can smell the food and it smells good, but they don’t necessarily want everything on the menu.” Myungsoo cracks a sarcastic smile in spite of himself and Sungjong laughs shortly.
“Can you turn into a bat?”
“Myth,” Myungsoo says, shaking his head slightly.
“Have you tried?” Sungjong smirks, pushing his face closer to Myungsoo’s to accuse the older playfully. Myungsoo’s ears turn pink, mildly embarrassed because Sungjong already caught him.
“Yes,” he admits, lowering his head in shame, and Sungjong lets a chuckle slip out through his teeth.
“What about sunlight? Do you burn to dust if you go outside?” Sungjong grins again, tilting his head, like he’s letting Myungsoo know that he’s not serious about this question, and for some reason he can’t look away from his face. His smile is radiant; it seems to brighten the whole room, make everything look a little bit happier, give it more life. Sungjong doesn’t seem to notice the effect he’s having on Myungsoo’s entire brain, body and soul.
“Another myth. The sun hurts after more than 6 hours outside, though.” Myungsoo nods, grinning as well. In that moment, with Sungjong smiling at him beautifully and asking him ridiculous questions even though he knows the answers, Myungsoo realises he loves him, the thought scaring him sick. He knows that Sungjong is a human - he’s mortal, one day he will die like every other human - and Myungsoo will live for as long as his survival skills allow; he’s waited for love for so long, being already over seventy years old in vampire age, spending most of his youth (both as a human and as a vampire) fantasising and wanting the chance to love someone, anyone, who doesn’t see the fangs more than the smile. Someone who’s willing to accept him for him.
It scares him that that person is Sungjong, a mortal, a human, his neighbour and his only friend. Someone as young as Sungjong doesn’t deserve to be stuck beside him, he deserves to be in the world, exploring and making his dreams come true; he shouldn’t want to sacrifice his whole future, his whole life, for the sake of a moody and short-tempered middle-aged vampire whose only goal was to survive each day. Sungjong didn’t need that kind of responsibility.
“Hmm,” Sungjong thinks, looking towards the ceiling for inspiration. “What about garlic?”
Myungsoo chuckles, “it makes me cry, like onions do to a human.”
“Do you sleep in a coffin?” He asks teasingly.
“You’ve seen my bed, Sungjong.”
“Are you immortal?”
Myungsoo sighs. He was dreading this question. “Yes,” he responds.
“So you never age?”
Myungsoo shakes his head, “No. I’ve looked the same for seventy years, aged twenty-two.”
Sungjong looks at him in awe, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He blinks a few times and shakes his head as if to convince himself Myungsoo’s answer wasn’t real. Maybe Myungsoo never realised before; he’s kind of been in love with Sungjong for his whole life, waiting and hoping he would be able to find him but time, the precious gift most people seem to hate, brought Sungjong into his apartment, into his life and into his heart that day. He’s suddenly grateful, the feeling hitting him hard.
“I’d love to stop time,” Sungjong mentions offhandedly, flicking his wrist in some dramatic fashion, as if to emphasise his point. “You’d never have to get old, you’d never die. You can live forever, if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to live forever,” Myungsoo says, clicking his tongue in slight irritation. “It’s not as fun as you think, being seen as a beast to everyone and having to move every few years so people don’t recognise that I never age. I had to pretend I was missing, knowing I couldn’t see my family again, and now they’re all dead; they lived their lives wondering in vain whether I was alive or not.”
Myungsoo sighs, trying to make Sungjong understand.
“I can never be in a relationship,” his eyes dart to Sungjong, staring at him. “At least, not with a human anyway. I can’t let myself fall in love when I know they’re not immortal, when I know they’re not going to stay; I’m much too cowardly to deal with the heartbreak.”
Sungjong purses his lips, thinking. “I guess,” he says shortly, not bothering to elaborate. In a minute, he’s draped back over the sofa on his front, face pressed into a pillow, just relaxing. Myungsoo glances at him, admiring the way his back curves femininely and the way he breathes, slow and steady.
Before he can stop himself, the words fall out of his throat. “I still have a heart. I still want to love, even I’m afraid to.”
Sungjong lifts his head up to smile, resting his chin on his forearms. “I know, hyung. And you will, one day; it’s only natural."
Maybe in this moment, right now, Sungjong is too naïve and doesn’t realise Myungsoo is referring to him. He’s still got an awful lot to learn about life and the world in general, young at heart and eager to explore. Or maybe he does know - he may be inexperienced but he’s definitely not stupid - and is just waiting right alongside Myungsoo, like he has been, all his life. Maybe Sungjong was looking for him too.
Myungsoo doesn’t know how to read Sungjong sometimes. He’s different on many occasions, knowing when to play a role and when to be himself, and he’s complicated. He has a huge superiority complex and the world’s most smug smile, but as he rests his head on Myungsoo’s lap in affection - whether out of brotherhood or anything more - Myungsoo thinks he definitely wouldn’t have him any other way.