rustle | infinite: give me love

Give me love
— Sungyeol/Myungsoo. PG-13. 2076 words.
— On the night of Infinite's disbandment, Myungsoo confesses to Sungyeol.
— HOW DID THIS FIC REACH 2000 WORDS, REALLY? || Original @ kficanon || Ed Sheeran's Give me love

i. Everybody knows it except Sungyeol, but he falls in love first.

It isn't obvious. Myungsoo has always been the brave one, going for long and lingering stares, has always been the one to initiate contact even if it is just the slightest brush of hands against each other or the casual arm around the shoulder, but Sungyeol is the first to feel something strong. It's just that he doesn't recognize it, refuses to recognize it that when Myungsoo confesses to him — straight to his face — the only thing he can reply with is a short, anti-climatic, "Oh."

"I just wanted to put it out there," Myungsoo rushes. "I know you don't feel the same way and you probably think I'm crazy—"

"Myungsoo, it's okay."

"— and you'll probably start avoiding me now what?"

"I said," Sungyeol begins, then smiles weakly, "It's okay."

Sungyeol begins to think of the perfect scenario for a perfect death. He has three options — he can jump off a cliff, get himself run over by a ten-wheeler truck, or stay rooted to the same spot to watch Myungsoo try to wipe off that forced smile on his lips.

ii. Maybe it's a blessing that Myungsoo chose to go out with a bang after the disbandment. It essentially makes things easier, not having to live with that painful smile or those tear-stained cheeks every single day. On Sungyeol's better days, he thinks Myungsoo is a genius. All the other days, he thinks Myungsoo's crazy and that he might just be, too.

Myungsoo calls him twice after the confession — the first, to apologize for that awkward, awkward confession; and the second, to ask, "This won't change things, right?"

"You're crazy. Why will things change? It's still you and me. We're good."

"You and me," Myungsoo repeats. Myungsoo chokes somewhere along the way.

"Yeah, you and me."

But everything changes. What used to be 500 messages worth of pointless conversations dwindles to some 20 that don't even stretch past the casual, "Hey, how are you?" Myungsoo calls but Sungyeol doesn't pick up, partly because he's busy with his new schedule and because there isn't anything to talk about anymore. It's minor enough a change for Sungyeol that he doesn't realize it until after he promotes his new drama, ten months after the disbandment and the confession.

"Hey, I'm sorry. 'Been terribly busy with work lately," Sungyeol types, then pauses. He fidgets with the keys for a while before continuing, "How are you?"

Not more than a minute after, Myungsoo's reply comes in.

"I'm on your doorstep."

iii. "How long have you been out there?"

Myungsoo doesn't respond at once, still busy with drying himself. "Long enough. We're not filming anything today so I thought I'd go around, enjoy the outdoors for once."

"And you ended up on my doorstep."

"Well." Myungsoo laughs a little, and Sungyeol notes the familiar, shy smile on Myungsoo's lips. "You texted, so I dropped by."

Sungyeol narrows his eyes. "You haven't been stalking me, have you?" He punctuates the statement with a playful smirk, and Myungsoo throws the wet towel at him.

"You're taking this too far."

The weather forecast on the news channel dictates that Myungsoo stay the night in Sungyeol's place. Myungsoo makes some necessary calls — to his family, his manager — while Sungyeol brings out whatever food he can offer. "I forgot to stock up," he reasons out when Myungsoo condones him for the lack of proper food to eat. He slaps Myungsoo on the arm. "Besides, you just gatecrashed my stay-in vacation. Stop complaining."

"I'm not complaining. I'm just stating a fact—"

It's the first time in ten months that they're eye-to-eye, and they each have only a few inches of private space to each other. His muscles tense. His eyes travel from Myungsoo's own to Myungsoo's nose, then his lips, and he watches as Myungsoo's lips quiver, as if speaking in a language only he can understand.

"Popcorn," Myungsoo quips, then gulps down hard. "We should probably cook the popcorn now."

"Right."

Sungyeol quickly gets up and heads to the kitchen, a bag of uncooked kernels in one hand and a mixbag of emotions in the other. He rests his palms flat on the counter and waits for the kernels to pop, waits for the popping to die down, waits for his heartbeat to becomes steady again.

Pop, pop, pop.

iv. Work and their conflicting schedules only allow for so much interaction, but Myungsoo is generous with the text messages whenever he can. Sungyeol replies, not out of habit but because there's no reason why he shouldn't.

"We're friends. We're okay," he reasons out when he bumps into Howon and Dongwoo in one of the coffee shops downtown. "It's what normal friends do."

Howon laughs. "Normal friends, huh?"

Howon's never been good at being concise and Sungyeol has never really understood the charm of crypticity, so Sungyeol lets it slide and ignores Dongwoo who's shaking his head and saying, "You're hopeless."

v. The first time it happens is during the end of the year awards. They're tired and drunk and possibly too close for comfort, Myungsoo's arm around his shoulder and his arm around Myungsoo's waist. He's lost track of the many times Myungsoo says, "Oops, sorry", when they bump into each other in a clumsy attempt at repositioning themselves in the same line, same space.

Sungyeol offers to bring Myungsoo home, but they never even get to leave the carpark. Instead, Myungsoo reaches up for a handful of Sungyeol's hair and angles his face just so, pressing his lips on Sungyeol's just lightly while Sungyeol's hands, supposedly busy with undoing the buttons of Myungsoo's shirt, suddenly fall to his sides.

Myungsoo pushes him against the door and Sungyeol's body arches against it. Myungsoo is skilled in the way he runs his hands up and down Sungyeol's back, in the way he lets his fingers linger just so that Sungyeol has to succumb to the touch. And for all the wrong things they've done today, like dissing one of Sungyeol's co-stars and downing too many bottles of beer, this feels right, even when Myungsoo kisses him on the lips one more time and he freezes, muscles tense all over.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Myungsoo furrows his eyebrows, and Sungyeol just shakes his head and rests his hands on Myungsoo's shoulders to pin him down on the backseat.

"Nothing. Just—" He pushes back all of his worries at the back of his mind, then rushes, "Let's continue."

He makes love to Myungsoo that night, but he never kisses back. He kisses Myungsoo on the forehead, on his neck, nape, shoulders, but never on the lips. The memory of the confession comes back to him — Myungsoo's stuttered speech, the tear-stained cheeks, the pained smile, and he tries to think of the many reasons why he should give in, thinks of ways to convince himself that he can return Myungsoo's feelings. Myungsoo is good enough. He's the one, he's the one, but none of them seem convincing.

He brings Myungsoo to his house and doesn't wake up the latter when he leaves. He still has an early morning radio program to host. If he arrives late, his manager will never let on.

vi. "Three calls everyday for the past week. Every single day, Sungyeol. What's going on?"

News travels faster than it should. The press release to the other members is that Sungyeol has been pointedly avoiding Myungsoo, and that Myungsoo has signed himself up for three more dramas for the next few months. The truth is that Sungyeol hasn't had the time to reply to any of Myungsoo's texts, and that he doesn't know how to.

"It means he's trying to do everything to forget whatever happened that night, that's what it means," Howon says through gritted teeth.

"It means he's improving as an actor and his career is better than ever. What is wrong with you?"

"No, what's wrong with you?" Howon's eyebrows are furrowed, a look of disgust in the trace of his features. "You play along and then suddenly stop contacting him? Whatever happened to being friends?"

"It's complicated, Hoya, you know that—"

"It won't be if you just admitted to yourself that you feel something for him."

Sungyeol takes a deep breath.

vii. So he feels something for Myungsoo. It can be feelings of friendship or brotherly care, or even hatred. It can be him trying to appease Myungsoo and making up for the poor excuse of a reply that he gave Myungsoo when the latter confessed to him. It can be him walking down that thin line between friendship and something else. It can be love. It can be him trying to choke down a feeling that's been there all along. Or it can all be a dream, a fantasy.

viii. The batsignal is "Hey, how are you," and Myungsoo's default response is, "I'm on your doorstep." This time, it takes Sungyeol just a little over three months to find time to reply to one of Myungsoo's texts, and it takes Myungsoo more than five minutes to reply. Myungsoo is a different person when Sungyeol finds him on his doorstep, dry, all bright smiles, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bag of pastries in the other.

"I've been thinking about everything," Sungyeol says, still stationed near his door. "The confession, the end-of-the-year party, what happened in my car—"

Myungsoo laughs. "The coffee I brought you, and then these pastries."

"Yeah." And then, after a while. "Right. Come in."

They spend the next few hours talking over doughnuts, croissants, and brewed coffee, with Sungyeol not flinching or hitching his breath at every contact, every touch. Myungsoo still stays over despite the apparent lack of bad weather, so they order pizza and beer.

They each have eight bottles to themselves and they're on their sixth. There are traces of pizza on Myungsoo's lips, crumbs that have accumulated over the past few minutes. Sungyeol finds himself studying Myungsoo, starting, until Myungsoo turns to him with curious eyes.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Myungsoo asks. His voice is still steady despite the amount of alcohol they've had.

Sungyeol blinks a few times and things finally come into focus.

He presses his lips on Myungsoo's lightly, almost tentatively, and he feels the hitch in Myungsoo's breathing, feels Myungsoo slowly but surely ease into the kiss, the contact. Myungsoo tastes like a thousand bad decisions and too-late realizations rolled into one. Soon enough, he's trailing kisses along Myungsoo's neck, but surfaces for a while for another shot at that kiss on the lips.

And Myungsoo kisses back.

ix. "Alert the press: Lee Sungyeol is actually smart!

Sungyeol shakes his head and makes faces at Howon, then Dongwoo, then at Woohyun. Sunggyu's been kind enough to not express his happiness in sarcastic statements, and Sungjong has extended his congratulations over a private Twitter message. Myungsoo is the one who replies to Sungjong with a smiley, which results to Sungjong begging them to get on Skype for a quick chat.

"So, how did The Great Lee Sungyeol arrive at the realization?"

Sungyeol shrugs, and Myungsoo just rolls his eyes. "Well, it was obvious."

Sungjong laughs. "Good that you know."

Sungyeol puts an arm around Myungsoo's shoulder, and Myungsoo's arm finds a perfect fit in Sungyeol's waist. Sungjong lets loose a colorful string of words that can otherwise be summarized into, "Stop doing that!", so Sungyeol brings Myungsoo closer, so much closer, but only just.

"Let's save that for later," Myungsoo begins, then laughs a little before continuing, "I want Sungjong to suffer from the suspense."

Sungyeol begins to think of the perfect scenario for a perfect ending. A frustrated Sungjong is one of them. Squealing ex-bandmates is also in the list.

The promise of an interesting evening tops the list by a long, long mile, though.

infinite: give me love

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