remnants ( myungsoo x sungjong, g )
By the time Myungsoo returns, it’s already dark in the apartment, only small specks of light filtering in from the moon or the standby-lights from the TV, phone charger, washing machine. There’s the quiet buzz from the fridge in the background, the repetitive ticking of the clock above the door. There’s the cold remains of strong coffee in the cup by the sink, stained slightly on the inside and chipped on the rim from an unfortunate accident no one can remember; there’s Sungjong’s plates on the table from his dinner that he hadn’t cleared away, a spillage of rice grains on the side, a flick of sauce dried onto the wood.
Myungsoo loves returning home to a quiet, almost-empty apartment, the remnants of Sungjong’s day still lingering on the furniture. He walks to their shared bedroom, small fragments of lamplight seeping through the door, finds Sungjong slumped over his desk, books and note paper and stationary surrounding him, sleeping lightly with his head tucked in the cook of his elbow. It’s his final year of college, major exams in a few weeks, and Myungsoo wishes he knew how to lift some of the stress off his tiny shoulders.
The clock in here ticks just as repetitively, although not as loud and obnoxious as the kitchen’s. It’s quiet, considerate, and one quick peek at Sungjong’s biology notebook tells Myungsoo that he fell asleep studying molecular genetics, whatever that is. His pen is still in hand, nib pressing onto the paper and creating spider-leg patterns in the margin. In a few minutes, he will rouse and rub the sleep out of his eyes, mumble something incoherent about needing to cram an extra few hours studying into the day despite it being almost two in the morning; but Myungsoo will stop him, once again, in favour of him getting a decent rest.
For the last month, the same has happened every day, and tonight will be no different. Each time he comes home from his second job, apartment quiet and dark and littered with the domestic residues of Sungjong’s day, there’s an odd sock mysteriously lying on the bedroom floor, there’s the smell of Sungjong’s deodorant still faintly floating in the air, there’s toothpaste stains in the bathroom sink and the cabinet has been left open, the contents askew and messy.
Between the two of them, they never have enough room for their clothes or products or food or furniture, but they manage. The apartment is dirty at times, the dishes sometimes going days without being washed or the laundry going a week without being sorted, but they have a routine. They have a thing.
Sungjong stirs, pen dropping out of his grasp, and he finally sits up, groaning something about his back aching and his head hurting. He’s realised Myungsoo is there before he even needs to announce it, because this is becoming part of their thing now. He balls his hands into fists, rubs the sleep from his tired eyes, stretches his arms in the air and makes a noise of approval. He spins in his seat to look at Myungsoo, smiles at him weakly, eyes half closed and shoulders drooping from lack of sleep.
“I should study more,” he manages to say and then yawns after, shifting in his seat to get a better look at the book in front of him, but Myungsoo only closes it and moves it away from the desk. At first, Sungjong protested a lot, resulting in a full-blown argument when they were both dead from exhaustion and eventually just agreeing to call it even. Now, Sungjong barely puts up a fight; he tries to grab hold of the book as Myungsoo pulls it away, but by now he understands that Myungsoo only has his health in mind and gives up.
Sungjong has just enough energy to change into some comfier clothes and actually get into bed, but he’s back asleep as soon as the curtains are drawn and Myungsoo joins him under the covers. Myungsoo likes to treasure this time, just lay and listen to Sungjong breathe, count the ticks of the clock and know that every second is closer to those final exams being over so both of them can relax for even a moment. Sungjong has a habit of making sleepy noises sometimes and he likes every single one because they remind Myungsoo that for those several precious hours, Sungjong is at peace in his dreams and not worrying over whatever biological nonsense.
Sometimes Sungjong will even curl up into Myungsoo’s side unconsciously, tighten his fingers around his boyfriend’s waist and keep them pressed together, chest to chest, all night; from this position, he can feel Sungjong’s heartbeat, slow and steady and reminding him that this thing he has with Sungjong, this apartment and this life, is all very real and he isn’t imagining it.
Myungsoo wakes up and leaves the apartment before Sungjong does, as always; his day job is demanding and steals away the crucial moments with his boyfriend in the morning, but he never leaves for work without taping a note to the fridge saying “good luck”. What Sungjong does with these notes, he doesn’t know, because they’re not in the trash or in their bedroom or scattered on the floor like plenty of their other things, but he decides that’s not important.
Sungjong’s temporary bout of insomnia arrives a week before his first final exam, and it hurts Myungsoo even more to see him so sick and tired. He wakes up during the night to find the bed empty and cold, pads into the living room and sees Sungjong watching reruns of dramas on TV, shivering and wrapped in a blanket despite it being mid-May. When Myungsoo leaves for work that morning, Sungjong is cocooned in the blanket on the sofa, snoring softly, the end credits of some anime playing on the TV. These nights, not being able to treasure the only moments he has with Sungjong, Myungsoo ends up not being able to sleep too, but he keeps that a secret.
Finally, within the week, the exams are over and Myungsoo has his day off, so he goes to pick Sungjong up from the exam hall. He sits in the passenger side of Myungsoo’s car, talks animatedly about the questions and the information and how well he thinks he did, and Myungsoo nods along, not wanting to interrupt him. Back in the apartment, it’s still messy and there’s a week’s worth of laundry that needs sorting and they need to go grocery shopping because there’s nothing but a block of almost-rotten cheese in the fridge, but none of that matters because Sungjong hugs him the moment they’re inside, whispering how much he appreciates all Myungsoo does for him.
They spend the rest of the day off cleaning the apartment and doing the laundry and buying them edible food, finally falling asleep together, Sungjong once again pressed against his chest to feel his heartbeat; he ignores the clock on the wall, quiet and considerate, because he needs to stop focusing on the time he doesn’t have left with Sungjong and actually savour what he does.
In the morning, instead of leaving a good luck note, he makes a fresh cup of hot chocolate and puts next to it a packet of marshmallows so it will just be cool enough to drink by the time Sungjong wakes up. He writes “to your first day of freedom!” on a sticky note and sticks it to the saucer. By the time he’s home, the note has disappeared to wherever Sungjong puts them, the cup and saucer is by the sink, cold and stained on the inside, and the marshmallow wrapper is in the trash. The apartment is dark again but not quiet - there’s the sound of laughter coming from the TV and Sungjong is sat in front of it, giggling along with whatever he’s watching, shoes thrown haphazardly in the hallway, blanket strewn across the floor, coffee table crowded with empty cans of drink and packets of snacks that he’s eaten.
Myungsoo knows this thing, their routine, will change; Sungjong will get a job and they’ll probably spend even less time together, and maybe the separation will become too much for either of them and they’ll call it quits. One day they might move to a bigger apartment with more space for them or maybe one day they’ll both be forced to move back in with their respective parents. One day they might start talking about serious things like children and families or they might not talk at all. Myungsoo knows all this, and he’s not prepared at all for any of it - he knows, if their relationship ever breaks down, it can’t be repaired with a handwritten message or a cup of hot chocolate.
But right now, watching the smile light up Sungjong’s face, happier than he’s been in a long time, oblivious to everything, Myungsoo knows he should really stop worrying.
*
epilogue
Myungsoo loves returning home to a quiet, almost-empty apartment, the remnants of Sungjong’s day still lingering on the furniture. He walks to their shared bedroom, small fragments of lamplight seeping through the door, finds Sungjong slumped over his desk, books and note paper and stationary surrounding him, sleeping lightly with his head tucked in the cook of his elbow. It’s his final year of college, major exams in a few weeks, and Myungsoo wishes he knew how to lift some of the stress off his tiny shoulders.
The clock in here ticks just as repetitively, although not as loud and obnoxious as the kitchen’s. It’s quiet, considerate, and one quick peek at Sungjong’s biology notebook tells Myungsoo that he fell asleep studying molecular genetics, whatever that is. His pen is still in hand, nib pressing onto the paper and creating spider-leg patterns in the margin. In a few minutes, he will rouse and rub the sleep out of his eyes, mumble something incoherent about needing to cram an extra few hours studying into the day despite it being almost two in the morning; but Myungsoo will stop him, once again, in favour of him getting a decent rest.
For the last month, the same has happened every day, and tonight will be no different. Each time he comes home from his second job, apartment quiet and dark and littered with the domestic residues of Sungjong’s day, there’s an odd sock mysteriously lying on the bedroom floor, there’s the smell of Sungjong’s deodorant still faintly floating in the air, there’s toothpaste stains in the bathroom sink and the cabinet has been left open, the contents askew and messy.
Between the two of them, they never have enough room for their clothes or products or food or furniture, but they manage. The apartment is dirty at times, the dishes sometimes going days without being washed or the laundry going a week without being sorted, but they have a routine. They have a thing.
Sungjong stirs, pen dropping out of his grasp, and he finally sits up, groaning something about his back aching and his head hurting. He’s realised Myungsoo is there before he even needs to announce it, because this is becoming part of their thing now. He balls his hands into fists, rubs the sleep from his tired eyes, stretches his arms in the air and makes a noise of approval. He spins in his seat to look at Myungsoo, smiles at him weakly, eyes half closed and shoulders drooping from lack of sleep.
“I should study more,” he manages to say and then yawns after, shifting in his seat to get a better look at the book in front of him, but Myungsoo only closes it and moves it away from the desk. At first, Sungjong protested a lot, resulting in a full-blown argument when they were both dead from exhaustion and eventually just agreeing to call it even. Now, Sungjong barely puts up a fight; he tries to grab hold of the book as Myungsoo pulls it away, but by now he understands that Myungsoo only has his health in mind and gives up.
Sungjong has just enough energy to change into some comfier clothes and actually get into bed, but he’s back asleep as soon as the curtains are drawn and Myungsoo joins him under the covers. Myungsoo likes to treasure this time, just lay and listen to Sungjong breathe, count the ticks of the clock and know that every second is closer to those final exams being over so both of them can relax for even a moment. Sungjong has a habit of making sleepy noises sometimes and he likes every single one because they remind Myungsoo that for those several precious hours, Sungjong is at peace in his dreams and not worrying over whatever biological nonsense.
Sometimes Sungjong will even curl up into Myungsoo’s side unconsciously, tighten his fingers around his boyfriend’s waist and keep them pressed together, chest to chest, all night; from this position, he can feel Sungjong’s heartbeat, slow and steady and reminding him that this thing he has with Sungjong, this apartment and this life, is all very real and he isn’t imagining it.
Myungsoo wakes up and leaves the apartment before Sungjong does, as always; his day job is demanding and steals away the crucial moments with his boyfriend in the morning, but he never leaves for work without taping a note to the fridge saying “good luck”. What Sungjong does with these notes, he doesn’t know, because they’re not in the trash or in their bedroom or scattered on the floor like plenty of their other things, but he decides that’s not important.
Sungjong’s temporary bout of insomnia arrives a week before his first final exam, and it hurts Myungsoo even more to see him so sick and tired. He wakes up during the night to find the bed empty and cold, pads into the living room and sees Sungjong watching reruns of dramas on TV, shivering and wrapped in a blanket despite it being mid-May. When Myungsoo leaves for work that morning, Sungjong is cocooned in the blanket on the sofa, snoring softly, the end credits of some anime playing on the TV. These nights, not being able to treasure the only moments he has with Sungjong, Myungsoo ends up not being able to sleep too, but he keeps that a secret.
Finally, within the week, the exams are over and Myungsoo has his day off, so he goes to pick Sungjong up from the exam hall. He sits in the passenger side of Myungsoo’s car, talks animatedly about the questions and the information and how well he thinks he did, and Myungsoo nods along, not wanting to interrupt him. Back in the apartment, it’s still messy and there’s a week’s worth of laundry that needs sorting and they need to go grocery shopping because there’s nothing but a block of almost-rotten cheese in the fridge, but none of that matters because Sungjong hugs him the moment they’re inside, whispering how much he appreciates all Myungsoo does for him.
They spend the rest of the day off cleaning the apartment and doing the laundry and buying them edible food, finally falling asleep together, Sungjong once again pressed against his chest to feel his heartbeat; he ignores the clock on the wall, quiet and considerate, because he needs to stop focusing on the time he doesn’t have left with Sungjong and actually savour what he does.
In the morning, instead of leaving a good luck note, he makes a fresh cup of hot chocolate and puts next to it a packet of marshmallows so it will just be cool enough to drink by the time Sungjong wakes up. He writes “to your first day of freedom!” on a sticky note and sticks it to the saucer. By the time he’s home, the note has disappeared to wherever Sungjong puts them, the cup and saucer is by the sink, cold and stained on the inside, and the marshmallow wrapper is in the trash. The apartment is dark again but not quiet - there’s the sound of laughter coming from the TV and Sungjong is sat in front of it, giggling along with whatever he’s watching, shoes thrown haphazardly in the hallway, blanket strewn across the floor, coffee table crowded with empty cans of drink and packets of snacks that he’s eaten.
Myungsoo knows this thing, their routine, will change; Sungjong will get a job and they’ll probably spend even less time together, and maybe the separation will become too much for either of them and they’ll call it quits. One day they might move to a bigger apartment with more space for them or maybe one day they’ll both be forced to move back in with their respective parents. One day they might start talking about serious things like children and families or they might not talk at all. Myungsoo knows all this, and he’s not prepared at all for any of it - he knows, if their relationship ever breaks down, it can’t be repaired with a handwritten message or a cup of hot chocolate.
But right now, watching the smile light up Sungjong’s face, happier than he’s been in a long time, oblivious to everything, Myungsoo knows he should really stop worrying.
*
epilogue