shrieking and ugly sobbing

Mostly for Bahb

verocity — Mon, 22 Jun 2015 16:54:12 GMT

It doesn't take long for Jinyoung and Yugyeom to move in on their next assistance. After all, Jaebum very clearly said he was on the prohibited list, but not any of the other members, right? So what's a good nymph and incubus to do when a bandmate is so obviously having trouble dealing with innate sexual desires - aka: being a teenager?

"I... don't think that's a good idea," Youngjae says uncertainly.

This confuses Yugyeom, because he used his most Alluring voice and even Jaebum had barely been able to resist. This confuses Jinyoung, too, because he almost forgot that they were, in fact, trying to seduce Youngjae.

"But hyung," Yugyeom whines in that careful whining-but-I-want-to-ravage-you tone that only incubi can use. Jinyoung is very ready to strip at the drop of a hat. The hat, in fact, is part of his attire for the day and he dropped in hours ago.

"Jalla says it's a bad idea," Youngjae continues.

"Jalla?" Jinyoung asks. They never pegged Youngjae to be the type for imaginary friends.

"He's my friend," Youngjae tells them like he's letting them in on a secret. "Not sure if you can see him... no? Alright. Jalla says I shouldn't sleep with you."

Yugyeom feels a breath on the back of his neck. Probably Jinyoung, who really can't keep his hands off him. "That really doesn't explain anything, hyung-"

"-oh god if you keep using that voice can we just fuck here and now-"

Youngjae scratches the tip of his nose. Yugyeom can't shake off the feeling that Youngjae's looking at something over his shoulder. "Jalla's a horse. I met him when I was a kid. I was camping with my classmates and they led me deep into the woods to ra- to fu- to. Uh. Play with me. Jalla found me and led me back to the campsite."

There seems to be a hole in the details of Youngjae's story. Yugyeom's instincts are telling him that those details are important. "And what happened to your friends?"

Youngjae shrugs. "He gave them a ride on his back. All of three of them. Jalla's a great big horse, he can carry three people at once. And he rode off with them into the lake. Jalla can breathe underwater, you see? He said whenever someone tries to play with me like that, I can ask him to help me so he can take them out for a ride."

It takes exactly one instant for Yugyeom to realize that the breath on the back of his neck smells distinctly musky. Horselike. "Um."

"I think," Jinyoung says carefully, "that we should leave Youngjae alone."

Yugyeom agrees, nods, bows to Youngjae and apologizes for taking his time.

Anon feedback thingy!

verocity — Tue, 02 Jun 2015 13:57:05 GMT

I haven't posted here in a while! I'm still sorting out a few fics I still need to post, but if you have a few minutes (I hope you do~) and are willing to give me concrit anonymously, please consider the...

ANONYMOUS WRITING FEEDBACK MEME
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Thank you~

Escape Velocity

verocity — Wed, 29 Apr 2015 06:45:40 GMT

Title: Escape Velocity
Team: AU
Rating: G
Fandom: Got7, Ikon
Pairing: Gen, mentions of past JB/JR
Summary: Getting the chance to explore a new world means having to leave home behind. And that's exactly what Jaebum is looking for.
Author's Note: Thank you to my wonderful team for all the love and support ^^
Prompt Used: Ailee - Singing Got Better, supplementary prompts

"Wow."

Hanbin grins at Jaebum. "Space, man. You never know what you'll find out here. Now aren't you glad we waited for you?"

"And I almost said no to the mission, damn it." Jaebum keeps his eyes on the ultra high resolution display screen. There's a planet down there waiting for them, one with a complex water-based weather system and rich green photosynthetic flora that filled the atmosphere with wondrous, wondrous oxygen. "We got lucky, huh?"

"Definitely." Hanbin glances at the spectrographic analysis at the corner of the screen. Everything seems normal. Habitable. Earth-like. "Yonghwa's crew reached their planet a couple of years ago. Their clouds are made of methane."

Jaebum snorts. "Methane. That's one planet off the list."

"Space, man."

"Yeah." Jaebum reaches out and expects moist air on his hands, but all he gets is the disappointing warmth of a flat crystal display. "Space."

Minhyuk is the best xeno-ecologist on this side of the galaxy. Or so he claims to be.

"Okay, I've done all the the analysis I can based on remote drone analysis." He has a pile of paper in his hands that he doesn't bother to offer; Jaebum and Hanbin aren't known for their interest in academia. "It's human-friendly, definitely. Up to a given level of confidence."

They're sitting in Jinhwan's hangar. Jaebum was studiously inspecting (for the hundredth time) the landside equipment that they'll be bringing with them to the surface before Minhyuk sought him out. "Didn't we already know that?" Now he's just attending to personal matters.

"We had a hunch," Minhyuk says. "A scientific hunch, fine, based on thousands of calculations from a couple of light years away using tools that can only look at a dozen things at a time. Actually being in the planet's gravity well and studying the atmosphere up close makes me feel better about the whole thing."

Jaebum snorts at how Minhyuk takes his field so personally. "That's a relief. I wouldn't want to have travelled all this way just for you to feel bad about our chances for survival."

"After how long it took you to say yes?" Minhyuk shoots back. "After, what, three months of us waiting for you to join the crew, you'd back out if I said I had a bad feeling about it?"

"I'm glad to hear that I'm so special to you guys," Jaebum teases.

Minhyuk shrugs. "Of course not. I'm actually very excited to send you and Hanbin to your deaths."

Jaebum blinks at the laser gun he's polishing. An actual laser gun. That Jinhwan, their engineer who can fix everything they throw at him, keeps pointing out is impractical and has no place at all in their array of advanced technology and where the fuck can he get one of those. "You're joking, right?"

Minhyuk sighs in defeat. "Yes."

After all these months of being cooped together, Jaebum still can't tell when he's being comedic.

It hasn't sunk in yet that they're not home. Which Jaebum feels is the understatement of the century. "Remind me again where we are?"

Hanbin's tone is completely flat. They've had this conversation literally dozens of times. "On a planet from a solar system several billion miles away from Earth."

It all happened too fast: one day he was at home tending to Jinyoung, then the day after he'd started on the mission briefing. Or maybe he's still starstruck, he's finally doing what he's always dreamed of since he first read about exoplanetary colonization.

They're descending through the atmosphere but Hanbin's answer is still technically correct. Hanbin is piloting the lander, Jinhwan stayed in the ship to plot out orbital patterns and Minhyuk knows better than to get his academic hands dirty. Leave the exploration to the people actually hired to do the exploring. "Mind if I ask something?"

"Hmm?"

"I notice you keep your hands on that honest-to-god laser gun of yours whenever you feel nervous. Security issues?" Getting to know teammates is Hanbin's way of calming his nerves. Which helps in its own ways even if it slightly distracts him from piloting. They're still in the upper cloud layer, anyway, there's nothing much to see and the lander's sensors are quiet.

They'll be working with no one else but each other for the next couple of months. Maybe even years if Minhyuk's bosses extend their contract. Jaebum figures it's time to open up. "Sentimental value, actually."

"Ah." Hanbin nods. They break through the cloud layer and their field of vision fills with shades of green. His expression remains blank. "She's waiting for you at home?"

Jaebum might as well tell the truth. "Not anymore. And for the record, you used the wrong pronoun." Besides, it's not like Hanbin can do much, now. "Got a problem with that?"

Hanbin actually blinks at the revelation. A couple of times. Then he turns in his seat to grin at him. "Not unless I'm self-hating."

"I fucking knew it."

"Should've asked Jinhwan to fix your gaydar."

Their make camp by the mouth of a shallow cave, close to running water and with a wide enough field of vision to give them a false sense of awareness. The lander has everything that Jinhwan and Minhyuk can think of, which means that it has everything that Jaebum and Hanbin will ever need.

Jaebum surveys the line of foreign but not-so-alien trees half a kilometer away. "Think this area's safe?" After the initial surprise of being on a planet that can support carbon-based lifeforms, Jaebum finds himself worrying about what other surprises this world has to offer. Who knows what the woods could be hiding? After all, even the forests back home aren't completely friendly.

Hanbin drives one of their security pylons into the ground. "You're the one with the laser gun."

"If we have to resort to my gun to protect us after all the technology Jinhwan developed, then we might as well be dead," Jaebum says. It's true enough: if something gets past the electric fields, auto-targeting microwave blasters, sonic cannons, flechette sentries, and everything else they carried with them, then the best they can do with with Jaebum's gun is to kill themselves so they won't have to learn first hand what unknown alien predators do to their prey.

Minhyuk said his readings were devoid of macro fauna ‘up to a certain level of confidence', which is Minhyuk's way of saying ‘I guess'.

Hanbin stands up straight and surveys their surroundings with something passing for acceptance on his face, a sigh that says ‘this will do'. "You said ‘not anymore'."

"Huh?"

"Your laser gun," Hanbin reminds him. "With its sentimental value and that I should not have said ‘she'."

"Ah." The sunlight turns deep orange. Almost golden. Jaebum goes to stand beside Hanbin, sunsets feel majestic if you watch it with someone else. They don't feel as lonely. "He passed away. Blood sickness. Right before we left for the mission. His name was Jinyoung. This gun is his last gift to me to bring on this mission. It's what I have to remember him by."

Hanbin had been looking at him fondly, but he quickly averts his eyes at the news. "Oh. Sorry. Shouldn't have asked."

"Nah." Jaebum places his hand on his Hanbin's shoulder. Here, small reassurances mean the world since there's no one else to give them. "Why, were you checking if I'd moved on? Are you gonna hit on me now?"

"That would be horrible for our dynamics," Hanbin says, self-deprecating laugh a little too stretched. "Maybe I would have in a different world."

Jaebum snorts and heads back inside the lander.

Jaebum cleans his gun nightly. It doesn't matter where he is and what time night falls, the behavior has become ingrained through sheer repetition.

"All I see is a mass of tiny wires and sparkly things," Hanbin admits. He watched Jaebum do it before, back when they were still on the way out of man's first solar system and they needed to learn how to live together.

"Honestly, it is just a bunch of tiny wires and sparkly things."

"And that sparkly thing that's bigger than all the rest?"

"This?" Jaebum raises the piece that Hanbin referred to, a crystal disk the size of a pea. "It's the lens. Pretty much the whole point of my gun. Made of special diamond. The only one of its kind."

"Oh. Is that why you refused to let Jinhwan have a look at your gun?"

"You know he'd have wanted to upgrade the whole thing." Jaebum places the lens back in its slot. He knows Hanbin can see how wistful he gets when putting the gun back together. But let that be another mystery.

They transmit their first batch of data back to Minhyuk at dawn the following day.

"Do you really have to be symbolic about this whole thing?" Minhyuk asks them drily. He's flickering slightly on screen, the orbiting ship is currently on the other side of the world. "First on-ground data during your first sunrise in your new world?"

"So it took us a while to set up your sensor equipment." Jaebum sips from his mug and winces visibly. "Tell Jinhwan that this coffee tastes terrible."

"A coffee machine was not on the initial requisition list," Minhyuk reminds him.

Jinhwan calls out from off screen. "Tell him he should be thankful I was able to throw something together at all." He shoves Minhyuk aside to glare at Jaebum through the video. "At least you're getting coffee. All we have is hot water."

Jaebum raises his mug in cheers. "Where did you get the coffee, anyway? We didn't bring any with us from Earth."

"Don't ask, don't tell."

Minhyuk pushes Jinhwan away. "Back to my data. When can I get the tectonic readouts?"

Jaebum glances at Hanbin blearily rubbing at his eyes. Hanbin had barely been able to fall asleep, and the only reason Jaebum is already up at this hour is because he didn't sleep at all. "Sorry, couldn't hear you, you're breaking up-"

"Pathetic, don't even try that, our communications technology-"

"-I'll catch you again later when you're on this side of the world, okay?"

"Im Jaebum-"

"What's happening?" Hanbin asks just as Jaebum shuts the video down. The blanket creases on his face make Jaebum feel strangely at home.

"We have a few more hours to sleep if you want." Jaebum offers him his mug. "Coffee? Just don't ask where it came from."

Everything in the perimeter of their camp is untouched since last night. "If there's macro fauna anywhere around here they seem to be leaving us alone." Hanbin doesn't sound as reassured as Jaebum expects him to be.

"That, or the defenses hold up perfectly."

"I guess we don't need your laser gun after all."

"Jinyoung would have been glad." Jaebum catches the strange look Hanbin throws at him. "He didn't want me to leave Earth. Said I might die the moment I actually step foot on the planet. Said who knows what could be out here and that I'd get eaten by the first alien dinosaur we'd find"

Hanbin laughs awkwardly. "Such little faith in you, man."

"He was fighting something that was killing him from inside." Jaebum readies the electric land rover that Hanbin fondly calls his baby. "That's why it took me so long to say yes to the mission. I stayed with him until the end."

Hanbin loads their equipment into the rover's storage compartment. "Is that why you bring your gun everywhere? Is it his way of protecting you?" Minhyuk would kill them if they don't set everything up by tonight. Or worse, he might start telling them jokes.

"I guess you could say that." The sky, at least, doesn't look so alien from down here. Clouds never look like anything too strange.

Jinyoung had liked looking up at the clouds after kicking ball the whole day. He'd said yes in the end. There was no point in Jaebum to stop chasing his dreams just because Jinyoung would be stuck on Earth for the rest of his too short life. He'd wished that Jaebum could somehow take him too, then he laughed because they both know it's never going to happen.

One of the many things that compose the human body is carbon. Properly cremated, the body's carbon can be processed into diamond. And diamonds can be cut into anything.

Even lens.

Wherever Jaebum goes, Jinyoung will be there to protect him. And Jaebum will show him all these worlds he once only dreamed of seeing.

Gimme dat ol' time religion [Got7]

verocity — Sat, 07 Feb 2015 05:14:34 GMT

Title: gimme dat ol' time religion
Main Character: JB/JR
Wordcount: ~5,000
Rating: G
Summary: Some princesses are not helpless. Those princesses know how to have fun.
Notes: written for quotidianue for the got2015 fic exchange.

"We’ve been roaming this forest for hour. And now you want us to climb this hill. Tell me, does that sound like it makes sense?" Nobody grouses like Bambam. He’s an excellent paige but that doesn’t stop Jaebum from wanting to throw him into a swamp. "I’m hungry. I’m covered in bug bites. We have no idea where we are. We have no idea what the castle even freakin’ looks like. What is climbing a random hill going to- oh. There it is."

They’re sitting on horseback as they reach the crest. Castle turrets rise in the distance: a mass of cylinders rising majestically from the forest treetops, its walls whitewashed so cleanly that they almost glow in the noon sunlight. "Not that far to go, looks like," Jaebum says. His horse presses its hooves idly against the ground.

Bambam bites back his comments. Jaebum guesses it would have been something about how they’ve been roaming the forest in circles for the past three days. Instead, he settles for, "I should hope so, my thighs are chafing and I’ve got a blister on my toe the size of meatball."

Jaebum scowls at his paige. "You’re very strange. Must be all that time you spent abroad."

"I’ve been working for you for the past ten years!"

Jaebum glares at him.

Bambam cows down. "Sir," he adds politely.

"Don’t worry, I appreciate your presence. Having a lively companion helps me keep my optimism. Come on then. If we’re quick we can reach the castle by nightfall and head home first thing tomorrow morning." Jaebum spurs his steed down the hill. "And you have a lot of armor to clean up, I’m sure you’re looking forward to that already, Bambam."

"The other knights don’t sweat into their armor as much as you do," Bambam grouses. He nudges his horse. "And that’s not even my name!"

"Hush, Bambam, your knight is deep in thought."

"You’re so out of practice, make sure you don’t get lost in there."

"Who in the Four Goddesses’ name - ow! - builds a castle surrounded by thorn bushes - gerroff me! - and houses a sleeping princess inside it!"

It’s a valid question. Over the past year, news about the northern kingdom’s steady decline has been spreading: merchant caravans hire more guards, trade has been weakening, and based on what diplomats have been saying the standard of living has been going down.

Jaebum thinks it could be the new king, brother of the deceased one. News of the princess’s enchanted sleep spread about the same time as the coronation. And it’s standard going for a new king to rid the kingdom of anything that could remind the people of the previous rulership. Jaebum supposes it’s lucky that the princess managed to escape the same fate as her parents, even if enchanted sleep is just a few small steps away from death.

"Ow!"

They’d left the horses at the entrance to the forest. Jaebum steadily hacks the thorn bushes away with his sword. The blade will need sharpening after this abuse. "Don’t be a wimp, Bambam, I’m leading the way and you don’t see me complaining."

"You’re wearing armor!"

"And it sucks to be you."

The castle door looms open before them.

Jaebum contemplates it thoughtfully. "Do you think they’d be angry after what I did to their plants?"

Bambam stares incredulously at his knight. The bleeding scratch marks crossing his face make him look threatening for the first time in his life. "You cleared a path through the murderous foliage isolating their castle from the rest of the world. I’d think the kingdom would be grateful."

Jaebum shrugs. "Who knows, it could have been their garden. Maybe the princess likes thorny plants."

"The princess has been in enchanted sleep for the past year. I doubt she had time for gardening." Bambam thinks that one through. "And who wants to grow thorn bushes in the first place!"

"I guess we’d better find out." Jaebum leads the way in. Bambam follows while furiously muttering things he’d want to do to Jaebum inspired by that one time he went to the Museum of Cruel and Unusual Retribution.

They find the princess’s bedroom without any trouble.

"We didn’t get lost even once." Bambam sounds proud despite himself. "Your sense of direction must be really improving."

"Shh, you might wake her up." Jaebum approaches the princess. Her highness looks so peaceful under her blankets.

"Jaebum, it’s enchanted sleep, only an idiot like you would think she’d wake up so easily."

Jaebum glares at Bambam.

"Sir," Bambam adds, deadpan. He looks over Jaebum’s shoulder. "She’s so pale and flawless. Definitely princess material. And those eyelashes, wow. Hey, if true love’s kiss is what’ll wake her up, you won’t mind if I have a go, right?"

Jaebum doesn’t even bother to answer. He places a hand on the bed, leans closer and plants a kiss on the princess’s lips. After a second of contemplation, he reels back, draws his sword and swings it at the princess’s head.

The princess’s arms move faster than Jaebum’s eyes can follow, darts under her pillow and swings a scimitar to meet Jaebum’s blade. Clang! echoes loudly throughout the room. Jaebum stares at the pale yet muscular and not very feminine hands beneath the hilt.

"What gave it away?" the princess asks. Her - Jaebum blinks at the pronoun in his head - voice is too low and rough for a woman even after taking hormones into account.

"Your breath is fresh," Jaebum says. "Like you washed your mouth with mint and water right before we entered your bedroom." Jaebum steps back but keeps his sword ready.

The princess throws her blanket off. Jaebum decides he’s definitely been using the wrong pronoun. "I thought it would be rude to receive your kiss smelling like cheese." He stands on the bed and sizes Jaebum up. "My name is Jinyoung. And who might you be? Are you a prince? And answer the second question first."

"I’m Jaebum," says Jaebum because no way he’s letting a man pretending to be the princess dictate the order of questions he answers. "I’m a knight from the southern kingdom. And this is my paige, Bambam."

"That’s not even my name!" says Bambam as he cowers by the dresser several feet away from where he was when Jaebum went for the kiss. After ten years being a paige for a knight, he’s learned that it’s never a good idea to be where the swords are clashing.

"I came here to rescue a princess," Jaebum explains. "Are you guarding her? Where is she?"

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow at him. "You’re looking right at her. Or him. I’m a guy, if you didn’t notice."

Jaebum blinks. He makes sure he heard that correctly. "I’m looking for a princess."

"Yup, that’s me."

"Not a prince."

"Not a single prince here, just princess me all by my lonesome."

"You’re a guy!"

"I was bestowed the title of princess at birth. It’s a long story, we can talk about it back in my kingdom if you want."

"But princesses are supposed to be girls!"

"That’s sexist! How backward are you? Where does it say that guys can’t be princesses?" Jinyoung hops off the bed and grabs a leather scabbard beneath the mattress. "So when are we leaving?"

Jaebum is too busy staring horrified at him. Bambam sputters unintelligibly in the background.

"Tomorrow?" Jinyoung prompts. Jaebum doesn’t answer. "Tomorrow’s good, you and your paige can have a night to rest. I’ll ask my maid to make us some dinner. Hey, Youngjae!"

One of the wall curtains swings aside. Jaebum notes the secret passage behind it. "Yes, your highness?" asks Youngjae, the maid - whom Jaebum attentively notes is also a boy.

"Additional plates at the dinner table tonight, it seems." Jinyoung heads to the dresser. Bambam darts away from him and hides behind the still quiet Jaebum. Youngjae scratches the inside of his nose. "Hope you guys don’t mind princess food."

As it happens, the only thing that can jumpstart Jaebum’s brain back into operation is the topic of food. "Princess food. Are we talking, like, salads? Vegetables and leafy greens?"

Jinyoung pulls his nightshirt off. Jaebum adamantly notices the disappointing lack of feminine breasts, but there’s a tinkle of warmth when he sees just how pale the princ- Jinyoung is all over. "What? Do you think I’m a rabbit or something? What kind of non-progressive society did you two come from? In my kingdom, princess food means meat. Steak."

At least that counts for something, Jaebum thinks. Steak. Steak sounds good right now.

The dining hall is large and lit by candles scattered at intervals all over the antique table. This, Jaebum draws from memory, is what people at home call a fire hazard.

It turns out that Youngjae is a very good cook. Jaebum makes sure to compliment him about it.

"Thanks," says Youngjae around a mouthful of potatoes and gravy. "All those years living as a rat helped me refine my taste."

Bambam pauses with his fork to his lips. "Excuse me?"

"There was a lot of magic lingering in the castle," Jinyoung explains. "And I was all alone, you really shouldn’t expect a princess to live alone. I got bored with no one to talk to."

Jaebum thinks about that. "That… doesn’t really answer anything."

"I had a few books about magic hidden in my luggage when they brought me here. See, magic is about giving shape to your ideas and making them true in the world." Jinyoung puts another healthy serving of meat on Jaebum’s plate. "So when everyone left me alone I started studying how to make my own servants. Hence Youngjae."

"And the rat part?"

"He was a rat."

"Yes, I was a rat," Youngjae says with a shrug like it’s no big deal. "I smelled biscuits when the princess was eating in his room. I didn’t know any better than to approach him, and the next thing I knew I was standing on two legs and feeling very confused."

"And naked," Jinyoung adds.

"That, too," Youngjae acknowledges plainly. "But rats don’t really mind being naked. So."

Bambam pushes his plate away. "I think I just lost my appetite."

Youngjae glances sideways at him. "That’s haughty for someone who looks like he used to be a hamster."

"WHAT?!"

Jaebum interrupts quickly. "You’ve been human ever since we hired you. Besides, don’t you have memories from childhood? Human memories?"

"I do. I do! But they were from abroad."

"Hallucinations," Youngjae says, failing to cover it up with an unconvincing cough. Bambam’s glare could cut like daggers. Youngjae just shrugs it off.

"So what’s your plan?" Jinyoung asks.

Jaebum clears his throat with a draft of honeyed water. "My plan hinges entirely on finding the princess."

"Which you’ve already done," Jinyoung says. "Congratulations. So where to now?"

Jaebum just takes that in stride. "And after I found her I was planning to take her back to her kingdom."

"Alright, we could do that." Jinyoung stretches his arms and back languidly. "You’re the knight, and you came to rescue me all the way out here. I’m sure you know best."

Jinyoung says that he’ll prepare the guest bedrooms. Jaebum notes that the actual effort Jinyoung puts into preparing the guest bedrooms extends only to telling Youngjae to prepare the guest bedrooms.

"He’s a princess, what do you expect?" Youngjae says as he covers Jaebum’s bed with fresh linens. "He leaves the housework to me so he can focus on the princessy stuff."

"Princessy stuff."

"Like. I don’t know." Youngjae thinks carefully. "Swordfighting. Martial arts. Baking for mass destruction."

Jaebum stares in horror. "What do princesses do in your kingdom?"

"How would I know? I’ve only been human for the past year, and before that I was a rat."

"So… you wouldn’t know if it’s normal for this kingdom to have male princesses?"

Youngjae shrugs. "Does it really matter? In rat society we don’t have royalty. Everyone’s born equal except for the Chief. He gets special treatment."

"How so?" Jaebum asks despite himself. He has a feeling he’ll regret the answer.

"He has to lead us to victory. The war effort isn’t an easy cause, you know. And if he fails..." Youngjae pauses thoughtfully. "Well. There are a lot of hungry mouths to feed." He sees Jaebum’s questioning look and follows up with, "The war against cockroaches. It’s nasty and bloody. We’ve lost a lot of good rats in the fight. Having a human body really helps the war effort, though; roach bodies go splat so easily."

"There are so many things about that statement that I’m not even going to follow up on." Meanwhile, there’s armor to be cleaned and swords to be oiled. Jaebum normally has Bambam to do these things for him but Bambam is relaxing in the bath, letting the herb-infused water soothe his wounds and tired muscles.

"The princess has been waiting for you." Youngjae is eager for conversation. Maybe having only one other person to talk to could be a struggle on its own. "Well. Not you you. She’s been looking forward to be rescued."

Jaebum takes a chance on honesty. "I don’t think Jinyoung is the type of princess-" saying the word is still so difficult "-that needs rescuing."

"Nonsense. Of course he needs rescuing. That’s part of what being a princess is all about."

Jaebum avoids being horrified by virtue of being tired. What do princesses do in that kingdom??? "Am I the first knight to come here?"

"Yeah." Youngjae gives the room a cursory once-over. "I don’t think he was keen on waiting for a second knight. The moment we heard you hacking through the thickets he asked me to deactivate the mazes. And to lock the doors that led deeper into the castle. And to light the hallways that led to his room. He didn’t want to risk you getting lost."

"Oh." That explains how Jaebum found Jinyoung on the first try. And he has the feeling that Jinyoung doesn’t actually need to be found. For some reason. "It was just strange to be the first knight to arrive at a castle and find that everything is maintained so well. Like there was no point to my rushing. To my being first on the scene."

"That was your mistake, really." Youngjae sniffs. He not-so-discreetly sneaks a finger up his nose. It’s like he does it for punctuation. "That’s one of the most important things we learn as rats: second place is good, second rat gets the cheese."

"And what does the first rat get?"

Youngjae’s grin is unsettling. "The trap."

They leave first thing in the morning. And by ‘first thing’ it means they leave well past dawn because Jaebum has never been an early riser and Youngjae is impossible to wake up.

"You’re leaving a lot of things behind," Jaebum observes.

"You have your sword," Jinyoung answers easily. "And Youngjae has his coat, he doesn’t really like the cold. Plus all of the stuff I’m particularly attached to are in the trunk."

Said trunk is currently being lifted by Jaebum and Bambam onto a trolley. It settles heavily with a lot of loud clanging. "What is in that thing?" Jaebum asks, incredulous.

Jinyoung shrugs. "Just standard princess stuff. Whips. Chains. Nunchucks. Bracers. Throwing knives. I had to leave my armor in the dresser, it was too bulky. And I sharpened your sword last night, by the way."

"What do princesses do in your kingdom-"

"I don’t get something," Bambam interrupts. "Your kingdom announced that you were put in an enchanted sleep and that only a kiss from a man of pure heart could wake you. Not that Jaebum would have been able to wake you up if that’s the case-"

"Hey."

"-but from the looks of things you’ve been awake this whole time. The castle looks so… well-kept."

"That was me," Youngjae volunteers. There’s a tone of long suffering in his words. "The princess attended to other things."

"Like?"

"My favorite hobby: improvisational weaponsmithing." Jinyoung leads them out of the castle. "Besides we’ll be back here soon enough."

Jaebum blinks slowly. "Why?" He feels that this is a very important question.

Jinyoung’s smile doesn’t reassure him. "You’ll know along the way."

"What did you do to my rose bushes?!"

Jaebum shoots a victorious glance at Bambam who inches away even further from the princess.

"Oh stuff it up your ass," Bambam mutters.

Jaebum glares at him.

"Sir."

They meet marauders halfway to the kingdom.

"I guess it was just a matter of time before we met troublemakers," Jaebum mutters. Bambam hands him his sword. Youngjae flicks his wrists and out slide knives from beneath his sleeves. Jaebum had no idea that Youngjae was even carrying metal.

A man whose arms are thicker than Jaebum’s thighs steps forward. He has an axe in one hand and spiked knuckles covering another. "What do we have here?"

Jaebum grits his teeth. "Let us through and we won’t hurt you."

"Isn’t that sweet," the man says. "But see, lad, there are twenty of us and there are only four of you: a half-baked knight, his clueless paige, a kid playing with knives, and… the princess… of the northern kingdom…" The man pales as he trails off.

"RETREAT!" It’s hard to tell who gave the order, everyone seems to have reached the same conclusion at once.

"Such nice men," Jinyoung says fondly from the saddle of Bambam’s horse.

"Where are they?" Jinyoung wonders aloud. "We should be in range by now, they should be showing themselves soon. Youngjae, get ready."

Youngjae nods dutifully. "Yes, princess."

Jaebum glances down at Bambam, who’s walking sullenly beside Jaebum’s horse. "I wish my paige was as obedient as Jinyoung’s maid."

Bambam scowls at him. "I may be bound to serve you by duty but you’ll never take my freedom!"

"The freedom that you express through biting sarcasm."

Bambam looks away sullenly. "Well if you’d just be an awful knight already I’ll have more to complain about."

Jaebum turns around in his seat to see Jinyoung looking around them curiously. "Who are you expecting to show up?"

"My fairy godmothers," jinyoung says absently.

Jaebum quirks an eyebrow. "You have fairy godmothers? Isn’t that a little backward? Trusting a princess to the care of magical old ladies, what happened to the progressive kingdom that you were so proud off?"

Jaebum hears before he sees it, the strip of sharpened metal slicing through the air aimed directly at Jinyoung’s throat. And Jaebum is too far away to do anything about it. "Duck!" he yells.

Jinyoung turns his head slowly. Too slowly.

The throwing knife lands and vibrates to stillness. In between Jinyoung’s fingers.

Jinyoung inspects the knife closely. "They’re here."

Jaebum draws his sword and backs his horse closer to Jinyoung. Bambam is nowhere to be found, which is a skill he’s sharpened exceptionally well for when there’s trouble or when Jaebum’s armor needs cleaning. "Who’s here?" Jaebum asks tensely.

"Have you lost track of the conversation?" Jinyoung asks like Jaebum is denser than he expected. "My fairy godmothers. One of them’s about to stab you from above, by the way."

Jaebum raises his eyes and swings his sword upward to block and throw off the assailant who’d dropped in on him from the tree branches. The man flips through the air and lands lightly on the ground, tightens his grip on his sword, and charges at Jaebum without a second of hesitation.

Not many people would run head on to challenge an armed knight saddled on a horse. People who do so are normally deranged, have nothing more to lose, or (as Jaebum is quickly learning) are directly connected to Jinyoung.

Jaebum fends off the attacker’s swings but couldn’t land a blow of his own. Jaebum is good at fighting defensively. And he can tell that his attacker isn’t aiming to kill him, just maim him irreparably. But Jaebum is better at figuring out how people fight and creating countermeasures on the spot.

Three loud thuds catch his attention. Out of the corner of his eye he sees three knives buried in the trunk of a tree outlining Bambam’s head perfectly. Bambam himself is wide-eyed and sporting a darker, wetter patch of cloth by his crotch.

Another knife flies through the forest. Youngjae strikes it out of the air before it finds its place between Bambam’s eyes.

"Focus here, kid," Jaebum’s attacker growls right before he runs up a tree, jumps off a branch and takes another swing at Jaebum’s head. Jaebum blocks it at the last moment.

"It’s good to see you again, Jackson." Jinyoung jumps off his horse and opens his arms wide.

Jaebum’s attacker throws a sarcastic grin at him, walks leisurely to Jinyoung and wraps him an a hug. "It’s good to see you again, man! Hey, Mark, show yourself!"

A taller figure somersaults from the trees and lands just beside the pair. The man doesn’t join the hug but he bows respectfully to Jinyoung. "Princess! It’s been what, a year? We miss you, I had to put up with Jackson the whole time."

"You love me."

"Not that much."

"I see my knight is confused." Jinyoung smiles at Jaebum, whose veins are still pumped full of adrenaline.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING." Jaebum forgets to pose it as a question.

"These are my fairy godmothers," Jinyoung explains, which as usual explains nothing. "They were the ones who raised me since I was a kid. Mark, Jackson, this is Jaebum. He’s a knight from the southern kingdom. He’s the one who rescued me from the castle."

"Rescued," Jackson says with an exaggerated wink. "Right. I hear you."

"Still no subtlety even after a year, huh, Jackson?"

"I’m as subtle as a brick to the face!"

"And those two?" Mark asks.

"That’s my maid, Youngjae," says Jinyoung. Youngjae responds by flicking his arms, which makes his knives fold back under his sleeves, and in the same motion start picking his nose. "I studied those books you slipped into my luggage. You’re right, knowing magic does help a lot."

"Fairy godmothers?" Jaebum repeats, still on guard. Everyone ignores him.

"Transmogrification spell, huh?" Mark says. "Good job, you could barely tell that he used to be a rat."

"Thanks. And the kid crying by the tree over there is Jaebum’s paige. He’s human since birth."

Jackson squints his eyes at Bambam. "You mean he’s not a transformed hamster?"

That, at least, brings Bambam back enough to start feeling his face in his hands to make sure that he wasn’t, against all evidence, stabbed by six inches of metal. He starts sobbing the moment he’s assured that he’s alive.

"So cute!" squeals Jackson.

"We’re not under attack anymore but I’m still so confused!" Jaebum says loudly. Jackson sheaths his sword in plain view. Jaebum takes some comfort in that.

Mark winks at him. There must be some magic there because it makes Jaebum feel warm from out of nowhere.

"So when’s the wedding?" Jackson asks.

"WHAT-"

They set up camp right before the edge of the forest. The night sky is brighter than the deep blue-black that he’s gotten used to over his weeks of travel. And there are far fewer stars.

"It’s tradition," Jinyoung explains. "The knight who saves the helpless princess gets to marry her. Or him, as is the case."

"Helpless?" Jaebum asks. He’s calmed down over the hours. "You were sleeping with a sword under your pillows. You have your own suit of armor in your dresser. You can catch throwing knives with your bare hands. You transmogrified a rat into a human being and trained him to be your bodyguard. What part of that makes you helpless?"

"I was trapped and I needed a knight to save me."

"You could have hacked through the thorns by yourself."

"That was my garden, thank you very much."

The fairy godmothers - whose maleness Jaebum didn’t even bother to comment on because what would be the point? - disappeared into the night to ‘keep watch’. Youngjae went with them. Bambam, Jaebum is not proud to say, is having none of the insanity and burrowed inside Jaebum’s sleeping bag after a hurried change of pants.

"As your paige mentioned back at the castle, I was supposed to be in enchanted sleep." Jinyoung stabs a sharpened stick through his strip of jerky and warms it over the campfire. "News of me being put to sleep have been greatly exaggerated. It was a conspiracy."

Jaebum sits straighter. It’s not a comfortable position on his rock but some reactions carry their own momentum.

"It’s standard political stuff," Jinyoung says calmly. "It’s why I’m a princess instead of a prince. Before I was born, a seer prophesied that a prince will bring ruin to the kingdom. He was very specific about that prince part. So, as someone who’s been living with prophecies his whole life, my dad used it as a loophole: he declared that from then on all titles need to be bestowed by the Royal Recognizer, a completely new department that the court set up whose job is literally to proclaim your official title. So when I was born, they declared me a princess."

"That’s…" Jaebum thinks of a nice way to say his sentiments. "Basically cheating the system."

"Magic is all about giving shape to your ideas and making them come true," Jinyoung says. "Look at Youngjae-"

"I would if I could see him."

"-he literally used to be a rat who snuck up to me when I was having a snack. I had the idea to turn him into a maid so I had someone who would clean up. Then I just used my fairy godmothers’ magic to make my ideas take shape in the world. And voila: Youngjae. The knife training is all my doing, though. I got bored waiting for someone to save me."

"And the whole wedding thing? I don’t remember signing up for anything that involves a wedding." Jaebum feels that this is a very important point and he’s determined to argue it until it gets answered.

"So I have an uncle who has no idea how to rule a kingdom, has never done a day’s work in his life, but wants to be king because he wants more leisure. And in matters of royalty, the king’s brother is a prince who’ll only be crowned if the king dies without an heir. Guess what I am?"

Jaebum nods along. Politics. He’s never been good with politics. He’s the type who prefers to solve problems with a hefty swing of his sword. "And the wedding? I’m not letting things go about that wedding."

"My uncle tried to have us all killed," Jinyoung continues casually. "We were ready for it, of course. But instead of fighting back and having that prophecy looming over our heads forever and never having a prince declared in the kingdom, my dad decided to just let things run their course. My parents faked their death. My uncle rose to power. You know what’s funny about ascension? Kingship is tied to blood. As long as my father is alive and doesn’t abdicate his throne, then he’s the king no matter what anyone says. Which means that my uncle is a prince even if he’s ruling the kingdom. And voila, the prophecy comes true, the economy takes a nosedive."

"But the Royal Recognizer-"

"-is borrowing his power from the true king, my father. Borrowed power can’t overturn the source."

Jaebum nods, slowly understanding. "I was right, the northern kingdom did use to be peaceful. Those marauders were a recent development."

"They didn’t retreat because they were afraid of me," Jinyoung says, "they retreated because they know I’m taking back the throne. I’m putting an end to my uncle’s rule of decadence. And once I’ve disposed of him, my father will abdicate his throne and I’ll become the true king."

"Again, the wedding."

"You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you."

"Who wouldn’t be?!"

Jinyoung laughs, but this time it’s innocent. It’s the first time Jaebum heard him laugh like that. "I’m marrying you because… I think you’re cute."

"WHAT-"

"And I need a champion," Jinyoung adds hastily. "I’ve been a princess all my life. We put out the rumor that I’d fallen into enchanted sleep and locked up in a castle surrounded with danger. So that I’ll be conveniently away when my uncle fulfills the prophecy but still be in the people’s mind the whole time. And I need a knight so people will believe in me. Because royalty is only half of respect. People believe in hard work. People will believe a knight who fought through thickets of thorny bushes and countless monsters of untold horror just to save a princess."

"I didn’t encounter any monsters, untold horror or not."

"... I got bored waiting."

"But why is there a wedding?" Jaebum insists. "We don’t need a wedding for all that!"

"We do," Jinyoung insists. "So that people will believe in both of us at the same time. I’m a princess who’s been away from the kingdom for too long. You’re the knight who the people will see as their champion. I have the right, you have the respect. We need to rule the kingdom together."

Jaebum closes his eyes and thinks harder than ever. What Jinyoung said made sense… in a storybook kind of way. If you followed the ideas without looking at the details. A question comes to mind. "What about heirs? Because I don’t think heirs are on the table."

"Let the fairy godmothers worry about that, they know magic more than I do."

"I feel that’s biologically impossible."

"A challenge, for sure."

Like Jinyoung said, magic is about giving shape to ideas and making them come true. And it looks like Jaebum just fell under his spell. "Magic, huh?"

Jinyoung smiles warmly at him.

"Let’s get some sleep. We free my kingdom at dawn."

"And the wedding?"

"What’s more symbolic of a wedding than the bloodbath that will follow?"

"What do princesses do in your kingdom???"

Loner [CN Blue]

verocity — Wed, 08 Oct 2014 11:55:47 GMT

Title: Loner (the Like a Child remix)
Main Character: Minhyuk
Length: 2,362
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Wondering what if? is like screaming into the void. You never know who might be listening.
Notes: Remix of andersenmom's Loner. Originally posted here.

There is an undocumented yet much discussed phenomenon shared among musicians: after years of devotion to one's craft counted by months of intense preparation, weeks repeatedly committing the same actions repeatedly almost to the point of being able to do them even while asleep, days of exhaustion slowly piling up literally dreaming of nothing else, and right on the hour of power when the performance is in stride the musician enters a state of trance. It doesn't matter how many people are in the audience, it doesn't matter how big the event, what matters is the single-mindedness and the sheer passion, the exhaustion of preparation, and the single, controlled release of all that effort culminating in a drunkenness of the Here and Now and I have never felt so alive, a moment of crystal clear euphoria that This is what I live for.

This is the musician's high. They enter the trance and there is nothing more in the world but them and their music.

Kang Minhyuk enters this trance for the first time three days after his twentieth birthday while playing for a small, private party with the rest of CN Blue.

The trance state in itself is uneventful. What follows is the standard musician's high, then a slight post-performance depression that is admittedly strange but still understandable. Jonghyun assures him that it's natural. It's a mark of adjustment. That Minhyuk's mind has accepted his new life as a musician and finally configured itself to maximize his latent talent.

"It's the same with sports," Jonghyun says afterward with a proud pat on Minhyuk's shoulder. "Well, not exactly the same, I guess, but there's always that moment when everything just seems so perfectly clear."

Emotionally-attuned people like Jonghyun, Minhyuk supposes, are no strangers to the effect.

It's the second trance - when he wonders if he could find this same feeling when he's not playing music - that changes everything.

Minhyuk takes a while to realize that he can't hear anyone else playing, that he can't hear their third song for the set and he has no idea why and at what point everyone else stopped. He pauses mid-beat, looks beyond his drum set, and the first thing he sees is Yonghwa hovering in mid jump several inches from the floor.

Minhyuk stares for three more seconds before looking at everyone else. A drumstick falls from his hand.

Everybody is frozen. Everybody. His bandmates, the concert staff, the few hundred select fans who were fortunate enough to be present in this mini concert. Everybody is frozen. As in a picture. A snapshot in time.

"What-" but he doesn't know what else to say. He gapes around him.

"My, but this is interesting."

Minhyuk jumps to his feet and finds a woman standing beside Jungshin where moments ago there was only empty space. She's wearing red. Minhyuk normally ignores what people wear, but he has a suspicion that he's never seen red this intensely before. As if the color itself is has form. Minhyuk takes a moment to consider his thoughts. He determines his first question. "Did you do this?"

The woman stops admiring Jungshin and strides closer to Minhyuk. "I didn't. Really, nothing happened to anyone. Except for you."

Minhyuk has made it a point to never ask stupid questions. He decides to be on guard and stay quiet.

"Technically," the lady continues, "what happened is that you… stepped outside of time. Yes, that's a nice simplification for a mind that experience the universe in three plus one dimensions. I personally didn't expect my fifth opportunity to approach me. Normally it's the other way around."

Minhyuk is grateful that his ego is strong. That his mind works with its own momentum. "What are you?"

"Correct question," the lady says. There are feathers shaped like fire embroidered on her sleeves. "Sadly, your people haven't evolved the language that can suitably express what I really am. We have to simplify. Perceive me as an agent of change. When people wonder about what might have been, I'm the force they call on for help."

Minhyuk sits back down on his drummer's stool and picks up the stick he dropped. All the readier to resume playing after he - what's the right term? - steps back into time. Whatever that means. Maybe he’s having hallucinations. Maybe this is why he shouldn’t drink to calm his nerves.

"I'll show you the way back," the lady offers helpfully.

"How did I get here in the first place?" Minhyuk asks. He needs to know so he won't do it again. Even if this is just a weird yet highly detailed dream.

The lady pauses to think about that. "Let's say you stumbled into a junction in time where everything is susceptible to change. Don't be so surprised. You're not the first one to do so. Although you're the first one I met who did it willingly."

"I didn't do anything," Minhyuk defends himself.

The lady grins. It is not a pleasant action. "You mean you didn't wonder about who else you could be? You didn't consider, even for a fraction of a second, what other life you could be living?"

Minhyuk hesitates. In that same instant music slams back into his ears. He rushes to find his beat but the break his playing is noticeable. Everyone stops playing, he stands and bows and apologizes sincerely (if still smiling confusedly), and they take the song from the top.

"What happened back there?"

Yonghwa doesn't sound angry. More... concerned. Tired but still high from the adrenaline. It's only been minutes since they stepped off the stage.

Minhyuk bows his head. "I lost focus. I'm sorry. Please be lenient on me."

Yonghwa sighs deeply. "Let's deal with that later. Let's just cool down right now."

Minhyuk grins at the watching Jungshin and hopes his expression isn't as brittle as he feels.

Yonghwa's "punishment" is for Minhyuk to insert an additional hour of practice daily for the next two weeks. Minhyuk accepts it.

"It's not like you to lose focus." Jonghyun volunteered to stay with him under the pretext of needing to sharpen his skills further. He likes to play the role of an uninterested older brother but he always fails miserably at being subtle. "You're the most single-minded of all of us when it comes to performances."

"My drumset isolates me from everyone," Minhyuk explains. "But I'm not perfect, hard as it may be to believe."

Jonghyun snorts and strums an E7. "You've also been weird ever since the concert. Quieter. A lot more serious. As if you're turning things in your head and you don't want us to know."

"And if I succeeded we wouldn't be having this conversation." Minhyuk pointedly looks back at his drums and starts the introduction to Oetoria.

Jonghyun is well-practiced in ignoring hints. "If you keep thinking about whatever it is, it's just going to distract you more."

He does have a point. Minhyuk drops the song. "Hyung, have you ever wondered about who you could have been if we're not in this band? If we failed that audition? Or if we didn't go at all?"

"And we never met and I'd still be in Busan and I might be focusing on sports instead," Jonghyun continues Minhyuk's thoughts while absently plucking notes from his guitar. "I might have let my loss motivate me into being a better fighter, I might have won more medals, beat tougher opponents. Or maybe just beat anyone, I can't really say." Jonghyun shrugs. "I was a pretty angry teenager. I was very emotional back then."

"You're still very emotional even now," Minhyuk points out, which earns him a laugh. "So you've been thinking about it?"

"Call it a privilege," Jonghyun says. "I had options. Not a lot of us do. Yonghwa has a few answers too, but I'm pretty sure it all still involves music somehow."

Minhyuk considers this. "To preface, I love what I'm doing," he says quickly. He doesn't want Jonghyun thinking that he wants out. "I love that I'm making music and that I'm playing the drums for a living and I love that we have fans."

"Same here. But…?"

"But I just wonder… what else is out there? Who else could I have been?" Minhyuk thinks about it. "I don't have an answer."

Junghyun sets his guitar aside. "That's natural. Sounds like you've only just started thinking about it."

"The thing is, I started thinking about it when- remember when we were playing at that publishing company's campaign launch and I had this moment when I felt like I was at the top of the world and you compared it to something even athletes feel?" Minhyuk sits on the floor and rests his back against the wall. "I had one of those moments during the concert. Then right in the middle of the high I started wondering. Where else can I get this high?"

"And that distracted you." Jonghyun's tone is understanding. He doesn't use it much. It sounds nice.

"It's like time stopped for me." That's a handy expression, Minhyuk isn't actually exaggerating even if Jonghyun takes it metaphorically. "I mean, even when I felt like I had everything I want, I started wondering what else is there. That's…"

"Demoralizing," Jonghyun answers. "Yeah."

"Maybe this isn't the life I want and I just don't know it yet."

"That's a big maybe." Jonghyun stands up and fans wipes the sweat off his face. "Not something I can help you with, too."

Minhyuk peers at him. "Then what good are you for as a hyung?"

Jonghyun flicks a finger against Minhyuk's forehead. "I'm only a year older than you, give me a break. Even I'm still trying to figure it out."

Minhyuk logs in to his private Naver account and reads through blog entries from years back, from a life he barely remembers. The entries are so scattered.

Gushing about a street stall that served the most authentic takoyaki. The day he accidentally spilled iced tea on his girlfriend's new skirt and she didn't get angry at him and he knew they'd be together forever. (Right.) Opening a souvenir gift from his aunt and seeing a jade bracelet with his name carved inside the band.

He remembers writing so he can remember these memories. And it's a good thing, too, because he could barely recall them anymore.

"Hyung?"

Yonghwa blearily opens an eye to look at him. Minhyuk feels guilty, Yonghwa gets little enough sleep as it is, having to resort to power naps on the road between schedules. Still, long ago Yonghwa made a promise that he'll always be available for them in times of need, even if not all needs are critical.

Minhyuk feigns casualness. "Have you always wanted to be an idol?"

"Hmmm?"

"I was just wondering."

Yonghwa goes back to his nap. Minhyuk stares out the car and watches the buildings pass by.

"Not an idol, but I've always wanted to be a musician," Yonghwa says five minutes later, startling Minhyuk out of his thoughts. "The specifics didn't matter, I just wanted to do music. I could be playing underground rock and jazz fusion for all I care and I wouldn't mind. But being an idol seemed like the most direct path. That's why I auditioned."

"You sound so confident saying it like that."

"Having a pretty face helped a lot." Yonghwa yawns and stretches his back. "How about you?"

Minhyuk shrugs. "I could have just been a simple university student."

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?"

Minhyuk frowns. "Don't you think the university life is boring? After all the excitement we get as idols? The traveling, the free clothes, the fans…"

"I'm pretty sure the only difference between idols and non-idols is the amount of makeup we wear." Yonghwa glances at his watch. He's learning to be more conscious of time.

"What matters is that we always learn and develop, right? It doesn’t have to be music. I could have been a scientist."

Yonghwa grins, still slightly sleepy.

"I could have been a comedian!"

Yonghwa snorts. "About that one, don't get your hopes up."

Jungshin is always the first at the rehearsal studio, always the first to get in the zone, always the first to warm up. Diligent maknae. There are some things Minhyuk hopes would never change.

"Don't you have anything else to do outside of practicing all day?"

"This is my life," Jungshin says with an easy grin. "It's the only thing I've ever wanted to do."

"So that's why you look so fulfilled when you're playing bass."

Jungshin laughs unabashed. "You, too, when you're surrounded by drums."

"Maybe that's circumstantial." Minhyuk takes his seat, twirls the familiar weight of his sticks in his hands and draws some inspiration from Jungshin's passion.

Yet the maybes persist, the what ifs never end.

"I'm interested in knowing," Jonghyun says when Minhyuk mentions it again. "But there's really nothing I can do about."

"Just learn to enjoy it, Minhyuk, this is where we are now," Yonghwa adds.

Jungshin’s grin is contagious. "And all the awesomeness that comes with it."

Minhyuk enters the trance state for the third time to an audience of event organizers and sound engineers and one of his bandmates running late.

They're preparing for their first major concert and they're all tired and exhausted and they have too many things to do but he feels like he's where he needs to be. And at the peak of his high, he casts his mind around-

"Sheer human interest has always been such a powerful fulcrum for change," the lady says, her lips shining in the spotlight like rubies.

Minhyuk nods at her.

She leaves him at his desk and Minhyuk buries himself once more in his books, tries to focus single-mindedly on the wall of statistical tools he has to learn for his exam tomorrow. He doesn't know why he needs to memorize these formulas, there are computer programs that can do it automatically, but he guesses that it's to train him for making sense of the data. The world of business statistics is ever evolving.

It takes him five minutes to solve the next question on his review sheet. He relishes the feeling of winning over a difficult problem, but it's followed by wondering what he'd be doing tonight if he had the guts to go on stage during that audition years ago.

Dream Sequence [2PM]

verocity — Wed, 08 Oct 2014 11:53:44 GMT

Title: Dream Sequence
Pairing: Chansung/Wooyoung
Length: 1,967
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Daring to hope is one of the scariest things Chansung has ever done.
Notes: Remix of heartsnote's Full Circle. Originally posted here.

Daring to hope is one of the scariest things Chansung has ever done.

They'd been kids once, even if their childhoods were more complicated than most. Chansung had the wonderful combination of good timing and courage and easygoing determination, complemented largely by his height and charisma and - undeniably - a face you could easily pick out in a crowd. He worked hard but his success is thanks to more than just that. To his credit, he knows that he owes plenty to sheer luck.

Whereas in the early days Wooyoung had much less. Wooyoung was barely more than a wiry boy who outdanced his competition, who smiled awkwardly and knew how to read his peers but didn't know how to reach out to them even if he wanted to (so after a while he just learned to stop). It wasn't hard to see how he came to rely on no one but himself, how his will had been pressed to the strength of diamond.

They were a terrible mix.

Even when they were lumped together for training, Chansung whiled away his time with Junho and the easy escape of being same-aged friends while Khun-hyung slowly picked away at Wooyoung's layers of shells one unwelcome hug at a time.

So, strangely, whenever Chansung sought his moments of quiet he always found himself hiding where Wooyoung had already hidden. And they'd look at each other and Chansung would bow politely and Wooyoung would ignore him and they'd sit as far away from each other as they can manage and they'd pretend that they were no one at all and that was how they knew peace.

Behavior is a crystal: a patterned structure of repeating traits and attitudes that emerge recognizably even under different circumstances.

They were all just children back then, even if it took them years to acknowledge it. They won trophies and the hearts of fans and they felt like they could conquer the world. And just when they'd learned to trust each other, Jay left and their world shook and Chansung had to learn to pick up the pieces of his own heart because no one had the strength to look after anyone else.

They all needed to heal and there wasn't time to do it the normal way; each of them had to find a way to cope. Taec, always so cerebral, exhausted himself in the gym and stole his own time to think, the same way Junsu (for Minjun wasn't anyone yet back then) drowned himself in music. Khun was not so fortunate; Khun always felt much deeper than anyone else, and for a while nobody could talk to him save for shallow jokes and small reminders that everything would be alright. Chansung wanted to worry for Junho - of them all, Junho believed most readily that he was invincible. But for once Chansung couldn't bring himself to be there for his friend.

Chansung ran away. Chansung sought his solitude. Chansung sought the shade of trees and the tickle of grass on his skin and the smell of earth and leaves and the green of cultivated nature. Unlike his friend, he knew he needed to break and reset. And in his moments of weakness Chansung always looked for silence even if he wallowed in self-pity.

"You're not being selfish."

Chansung doesn't bother to look up from the blades of grass he'd been tearing by the veins. In their mutual need for solitude, he and Wooyoung always found themselves around each other.

"Take your time," Wooyoung tells him. "A broken friend is no use to anyone. I can be there for him while you're fixing yourself."

This is breaking the rules. They never talk to each other when they're alone. Their solitude is sacred.

Chansung blows the shreds away before raising his head morosely.

Wooyoung shrugs. "But I'm not bestfriend material. I can only do so much, okay? I can't support him like you can. You're one of a kind, not that the phrase means anything."

Chansung looks away, still not saying a word.

"And hey." Wooyoung sits beside him. "I can support you too. If you need a friend, I mean. I can be there for you, too."

Chansung aims for a grin but settles for a grimace. "Thanks," he grunts, sounding more insincere than he means.

Wooyoung listens well. "Just don't get used to it," he says with a wink. "I don't like it any more than you do."

"I don't want to burden you."

Wooyoung laughs. It's genuine, not like the pretend laughter Chansung's been using for days. "Don't worry about me, I'm invincible." He says it so confidently like he's stating a fact, something Chansung finds himself believing.

They cross a small patch of daisies on their way back. Chansung plucks a stem from the ground and twirls it into a tight ring. "Here," he says as he hands it to Wooyoung. "But it's not a complete chain like what we see on TV."

"What's this for?"

"My thanks. For helping me feel better."

"Such a cheapskate," Wooyoung teases, but he keeps the flower - twisted stem and all - and keeps it safe until they're back home.

And slowly they do heal. Slowly they do piece things back together, slowly they get used to a life of seven even with only six of them. And slowly they learn to live for six instead.

Slowly something else… changes.

It's the little things, he knows. The quiet moments, like when they don't even pretend to be alone anymore, they still don't talk but they nod at each other when they go for silence and wait for each other before going back. Even the loud ones, like Taecyeon cracking a joke that's too awful to not be funny for the wrong reasons and the whole group is laughing and Chansung finds himself catching Wooyoung's eyes. And even the moments in between, like when Chansung only realizes that he's looking at Wooyoung when Wooyoung turns to look at him and Chansung grins cheekily back before looking away.

One day, Chansung slowly realizes that he's breaking another rule.

For the first time, he finds himself afraid. Both of himself and for himself.

"What's wrong?" Khun asks every once in a while.

"Nothing, hyung." Chansung chases the worry away from his eyes but Khun isn't so easily convinced.

"There's something I need to tell you."

Junho pulls the earphones off and powers his electric piano down, an action so readily fluid that Chansung knows Junho's been waiting for him. Junho is a good friend. It's terrifying to imagine that soon they might not be friends anymore.

Chansung hadn't been subtle. Everyone else wanted to go out for dinner, Junho said he had a song he wanted to work on so Chansung changed his answer to just wanting to stay home. There'd been odd looks from everyone else, but part of learning to live with each other is learning to let the little white lies go.

"I haven't been myself lately," he tells Junho quietly. Junho makes space for him on the piano bench and Chansung accepts the small act of comfort.

"You've been eerily quiet," Junho agrees. "I didn't know how to reach out to you. I'm sorry. I should have-"

"No, it's not your fault." Chansung wants to hug his friend, to comfort him and himself, but Junho might not want the contact after Chansung confesses and he owes Junho the choice of privacy. "I have something to tell you. About me."

"I'm listening," Junho says. "Tell me."

So Chansung does.

And Junho is quiet for too long. Chansung leaves for his room.

But before he can make it out the door Junho pulls him back and hugs him tight.

"You're my best friend," Junho says, looking Chansung straight in the eyes. "I'm not going to judge you. It'll take more than this to push me away."

It's wonderful how words can carry so much weight, or how words can take so much weight away. Chansung feels his mouth twisting to a smile, finds himself locking Junho in his arms and and hiding his face in Junho's hair, finds himself so relieved and it takes time for him to realize that the wetness in Junho's hair is from him.

It takes time for him to calm down to Junho's steady whispers of encouragement. And when he does he tells Junho even more. They feel like it's the first time they've spoken all over again because maybe that's the truth.

"Suddenly, things make a lot more sense," Junho says after practice one night. Chansung knows Junho's talking about how he caught Chansung watching Wooyoung's reflection too long to not mean anything.

"The powers of perspective," says Chansung.

"And here's perspective from an outsider." Junho's next words freeze the blood in Chansung's veins.

"I think he knows. I think he's done waiting."

If he thought he was afraid of telling Junho, it’s nothing compared to how he feels now.

"What's this?"

Wooyoung rolls his eyes impatiently. "Open it and find out."

Chansung raises his eyebrows and removes the lid of the cardboard box. Inside is a dried daisy whose stem had been twisted into a ring. Chansung's mind starts racing.

"It's surprisingly easy to preserve a flower," Wooyoung says lightly. "Memories and promises… not so much. They're trickier to keep."

Chansung clamps down on everything he feels, keeps himself as neutral as he can be. "I'm not old enough to have faulty memory," he says. He puts the lid back on to protect the memento from the rooftop wind. Flowers may be easy to preserve but memories aren't blown away so easily.

"I know." Wooyoung takes a step closer and pushes a strand of hair away from Chansung's face. "You gave me that as thanks for helping you feel better, remember? Here it is. I'm giving it to you again in case it helps you through what's bothering you these days."

Easy words that carry so much meaning. Chansung knows Wooyoung never speaks lightly. "What I need now isn't comfort," Chansung admits.

"I know," Wooyoung repeats confidently. "What you need now is courage."

Chansung shakes his head in disbelief in how Wooyoung says it so easily. "You really are invincible, aren't you?"

"Sometimes we learn to believe our own lies." Wooyoung's smirk is almost smug. "You have something to tell me."

"Something I thought I never had to look for the courage to," Chansung admits.

"Because you had no plans on telling me whatsoever?"

Chansung shrugs. Affirmation comes in many forms. Wooyoung evidently has everything already figured out. And the way they're talking, the way Wooyoung is leaning in closely-

"All I can promise you is that I'll try." Wooyoung takes Chansung's hand and presses it against his chest. "All the courage you need? You can find it right here. I promise you I'll try. If you can promise me that you'll try, too."

Daring to hope is one of the scariest things Chansung has ever done.

"So?" Wooyoung chides with a raised eyebrow.

Chansung takes a deep breath and grins. The wind is blowing strong, it's harsh on his nose. For some reason it makes him laugh giddily. "Are you confessing to me, Mr. Jang?"

"Can't expect an idiot to think for himself." Wooyoung reaches into his bag and gently takes out another daisy stem curled into a ring, presses it into Chansung's palm. "Here's your courage," he says. "Now let's go down before we lose our chance to eat dinner."

"It's not a group secret couple if you guys aren't making much effort to keep it a secret," Junho jeers from his corner of the practice room.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes and keeps wiping Chansung's neck with his towel.

Chansung wonders how long this promise will last.

Quick Announcement

verocity — Fri, 18 Jul 2014 10:03:06 GMT

So the Philippines was very recently hit by a strong typhoon.

I am fortunate in that I'm safe, my family is safe, my friends are safe. However:
1) the typhoon caused a lot of property damage
2) I have colleagues we were not as lucky

I've been involved in a few clean-up efforts, both personal and organized.

Meaning what we have right now is a verocity who has very little free time and expendable energy on his hands. Meaning I haven't been able to write in the past couple of weeks.

I'll do my best to post the next chapter of Tacenda next week. Please stay tuned~

Tacenda [Got7]

verocity — Thu, 03 Jul 2014 21:42:56 GMT

Title: Tacenda [Chapter 3]
Main Character: Jaebum
Warnings: -none-
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,374
Summary: This is a story about things that should not be said.
Notes: New fandom, new writing style~ Although it looks like I'm slipping into the old one umm-

[1] [2]

It's one of the rare mornings when Jinyoung, ever the responsible one, managed to wake Jaebum up early enough for breakfast duty. Jaebum is still wiping at his eyes even as he folds the egg roll while Jinyoung is filling the boiler with seven mugs' worth of water.

"Good morning, hyung."

Jaebum turns to wave languidly at Youngjae. "Hey. You're up, this is a miracle."

Youngjae shrugs. "Couldn't sleep." It's barely a flicker, Jaebum doesn't miss it: the quick dart of Youngjae's eyes at Jinyoung's back. "I'll just take a bath first, hyung."

The way Jinyoung is resolutely watching the water overflowing from the boiler? The way he holds his breath and exhales deeply when Youngjae leaves? Jaebum doesn't miss those either.

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

"I think we need to talk."

Mark doesn't even ask about what, he just nods like he's been expecting it.

Jaebum has to find time for that later. For now, he focuses on running interference. Maybe if he's agile enough the rest of the group won't notice that Jinyoung and Youngjae haven't even looked at each other all morning.

"Did you sleep well last night, hyung?"

Jaebum looks up from his phone and stares puzzled at Yugyeom. Strange questions are usually followed by strange requests for the sake of video missions. "Yes?"

"That's good," Yugyeom says brightly. "Do you think we'll do well today?"

"I always think we'll do well." A safe answer backed up by honesty.

"Then we'll do well." Yugyeom grins, pumps a fist in excitement, and goes off to bother Jinyoung.

It's strange how much strength someone can draw from even the smallest display of appreciation.

Jaebum has always fostered collaborative independence. "Develop your skills and remember to teach what you learn." "We need to trust each other, which means we each need to be someone the whole group can trust." "Be strong. We don't know when we'll fall, but when we do everyone must be ready to catch and cover."

(Moment of truth: the thoughts behind them were Jaebum's from start to end but Jinyoung was the one who captured them in words.)

It's not surprising when Jackson corners him in the restroom right before lunch. The rest of the group should already be at the studio canteen. Trust Jackson to use awkward timing as his ace.

"If I didn't know any better, hyung," Jackson leads on while washing his hands.

"Dude, can't this wait until after I'm done peeing-"

"I'd say you're trying to take my place as the lovably hyper one in the group."

"Seriously, I'm taking care of business here-"

"What's up with Jinyoung?"

Not that this is exactly what Jaebum was trying to avoid or anything. Jaebum sighs in defeat, zips up, walks over to the sink beside Jackson and stares at his reflection. He looks so… polished. So fresh. Makeup really does wonders, he can barely even recognize himself. "I'm working on it, man, don't worry about it."

Maybe Jaebum's just imagining things, but when he walks out the door it almost sounds like Jackson said, "I'll take care of the other one, then."

Of all the members, Mark was the hardest to get used to. Jaebum used to think that it's because Mark is a weird blend of conflicting upbringing, but after a while it became obvious that... well, Mark is just naturally quiet. Naturally independent. He's not exclusive, he just goes at his own pace.

After Bambam's strange vanity, Youngjae's offbeat humor, Yugyeom's consistent support, Jackson's sheer exuberance, and Jinyoung's innate moodiness, Mark's silent strength threw Jaebum off balance. Mark is always where he needs to be and will always do what is asked of him. What Jaebum had to learn was that needs and expectations sometimes conflict; that Mark doesn't follow blindly, he hears what you're really asking beneath your words and he follows that instead. He listens.

Jaebum can bypass all those things by being tactlessly straightforward. By Korean standards, anyway.

"Important things first," Jaebum says. He bites into his chicken skewer and waves the stick in the air to compose his thoughts. "Is Jinyoung okay?"

They're in an alley behind headquarters. A haven for artists who want privacy even among themselves. The kids are in the middle of endurance exercises when Jaebum pulled Mark out for some one on one coaching, something he couldn't squeeze into their schedule with rehearsals right after.

The smell of trash and smoke will stick to their clothes but it's the best they have for now. How he still has any appetite is a mystery.

"He's been better." Mark would never say that to anyone else. Jaebum - and Jinyoung, he guesses - are relying on it. "He's cracking, though? Yugyeom can see it. And I've caught Bambam looking worried." There's guilt in Mark's smile. "And. I-"

"You can't always be there for him," Jaebum says. Mark nods and doesn't add anything. "How did you find out?"

"He told me."

"He wouldn't have told anyone."

"Well. You're right. But that doesn't mean it hasn't been bothering him? I just listened. To what he actually wants to say when we talk."

That's a lesson that a lot of them tend to forget. Everyone else is so outspoken, even Youngjae who's supposedly the shy one. They forget that Jinyoung feels things deeply.

Jaebum leans back against the wall. "Mark? Am I being a bad best friend? I should have been there for him, too."

Mark shakes his head. His confidence absolves Jaebum of guilt. "He didn't want to burden you. That's what it was."

Leadership changes things. Jaebum's always known that, but feeling it is completely different. "Thanks for taking care of him."

"You're all my friends, Jaebum. I'm here for everyone."

"Hyung, have you eaten?" Youngjae asks as soon as they return. "Let's grab some snacks."

Jaebum smiles in apology. "Mark and I already had some. I can go with you, though? Or ask one of the others."

"Nah, that's okay." Youngjae stretches and looks around at everyone. "Jackson's a little sore after his attempt at splitting-"

"I didn't stretch my legs, okay!"

"-and Bambam's still full from lunch."

Yugyeom walks in behind Mark and finds himself facing an innocently grinning Youngjae. "Yugyeom, you're hungry, right?"

Yugyeom blinks, confused. "I guess the right answer is yes?"

"Why didn't you go with him?" Jaebum asks Jinyoung, who's quietly stretching his legs at a corner of the room. Jaebum realizes belatedly how wrong a move drawing attention to Jinyoung was.

"Because he didn't ask me," Jinyoung answers simply.

"No, that's not how it goes!"

Jaebum never means to raise his voice. It just happens, especially when he's too focused on dancing to remember to cool his temper. He doesn't immediately register who did a body wave in the wrong direction; he just saw the wrong formation, got frustrated because it's their ninth run at the same routine, they're still making the same basic mistakes, and it's hard to get rid of old habits.

Everyone drops formation and breathes for a second.

"Youngjae," Jaebum continues sharply. "It's the fifth time you did that. Concentrate."

Youngjae is poker-faced. "Yes, hyung."

"Again. Let's get this right, time."

Quieter. "Yes, hyung."

"You're throwing your momentum the other way." Everyone, surprised, turns to watch Jinyoung. They're not even looking at his reflection. Jinyoung stands beside Youngjae and takes the routine four beats earlier than where Youngjae usually messes up. "When you do this," Jinyoung demonstrates, Youngjae follows suit, "your weight ends up going-"

Bambam steps to the front and asks loudly, "Why don't we add a flip here?" Before anyone can stop him, he crouches, springs up, backflips through the air and lands on his feet. Misjudges how he absorbs the impact, slips, and crashes on the floor.

Four people crowd around him right away.

"Oh shit-"

"Hyung, you okay? Bambam?"

"Why would you do that, you haven't trained enough for this-"

"I'm okay-" So maybe he sounds a little dazed, but doesn't he always? "Wow, that was not a good idea."

Jaebum helps him to his feet. "Are you sure nothing hurts?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He presses his hands against his head and shakes himself for a short while. "Okay, good as new. Now let's try that routine again?"

Jackson grins teasingly. "Still want to do the flip? Mark's getting a little old for it."

"I don't crash on my back if you didn't notice."

"Positions," Jaebum announces and everyone quiets down. Youngjae and Jinyoung are waiting for them.

They run the routine to the end. Youngjae grins gratefully at Jinyoung through the mirrors but Jinyoung turns away to grab a bottle of water. Jaebum wonders how quickly he'll start crossing lines.

"What were you thinking!"

Youngjae is never aware how far his voice can reach. Jaebum hears him even though they're halfway down the hall.

Whatever Bambam says earns him a soft nudge at the back of his head quickly followed by an arm around the shoulder.

Jaebum guesses that Bambam's answer has something to do with privacy.

It doesn't take long for Jaebum to realize that everybody knows after all. Or maybe has an idea, at least.

The knowledge is strangely liberating.

The quietest place Jaebum can find is a small storage room at the roof of their apartment complex. It's been empty ever since they moved in. A quick round of cleaning and a few yoga mats later, the place could pass for a second room of his own. He goes there when the noise gets too much.

He's on his hands again, trying to contain the strain and singing in his head to time his endurance. He wavers by the second verse, scrunches his eyes shut and braces for the fall-

-feels hands push him back up by the knees and restore his balance. Jaebum opens his eyes and finds himself staring at pale knees.

"Thought I'd find you here," Jinyoung tells Jaebum's calves easily. Jaebum grins, deliberately tips over again and falls into tradition so easily.

It feels so new this time. "Hey."

"Why did I even think I'd get better treatment this time?" Jinyoung grouses, sandwiched between the floor and a giddy Jaebum.

Jaebum can't bring himself to care right now. "You okay, man?"

"Of course I'm okay." They're quiet for a while. Jinyoung is good at deafening silences. "Mark and I were supposed to work on our acrobatics before dinner."

"And yet you're here."

"He said he was already too tired.

"Mark, tired? Really?"

"Exactly. And that maybe the two of us needed to talk."

"Oh." What's expected against what's needed. Mark always plays to his own strengths. "So… do we?"

Jinyoung doesn't answer, but then that's pretty normal. Jaebum waits him out. "Maybe we do. We've been putting it off for long enough."

"And I'm still here, right?" Jaebum reorients himself so they're lying side by side and staring up at the unlit ceiling. The bare cement all around them is symbolic.

"Yeah. You're still here. I couldn't believe it but you came back after I thought I'd ruined everything forever. You've always been so strong."

"That's a lot of nonsense," Jaebum chides him. Whatever lightens the mood. "You didn't ruin anything, come on. We're best friends. It happened. Remember?"

"Did you see it coming?" Jinyoung picks up the conversation like they started it just yesterday. Like he hasn't been wanting to continue it ever since that quiet minute in between schedules before the managers hustled them to the next studio and Jaebum spent the whole day wondering if the loud music broke his ears.

"I didn't." And that's pure honesty. Jaebum had no idea. Until Jinyoung, in a moment of weakness, caved in and confessed. But what they both saw as weakness before, Jaebum sees clearly now as a testament to Jinyoung's character. "You like taking care of everyone. I never noticed that the way you took care of me was special."

"And there I was, thinking I was so obvious."

"Maybe it's obvious now." Everything is clearer in hindsight. And the two years in between gave Jaebum a lot of perspective. "If I'd known you this much back then, I'd have been able to tell. And maybe I'd never have run away."

Jinyoung laughs. There's quiet bitterness there. "You avoided me for only two days, Jaebum. Then after that you were as clingy as ever. I wouldn't call that running away. Let go of that guilt. I'm not holding it against you."

What Jaebum has to say next would hurt. But he trusts Jinyoung to listen to the sincerity. "Things would have been different if you were a woman."

"I know that." Jinyoung looks at him and it's strange that it doesn't feel weird. "You'd have risked a relationship with me at the start of your career? If I were?"

"Maybe?" Jaebum says with a shrug. "Maybe I'd have gotten into a promise with you instead and waited until we're both set. The point is I don't know. But it would have been different. It's not that I don't appreciate you, Jinyoung-"

"You just don't see me that way. Don't worry, I understand. I expected as much."

Jaebum grabs Jinyoung's hand and grips it tight. "This is not going to change anything. You're still my best friend."

"Dude, it's been over for two years-"

"I know, but I needed to say it. And I need to hear it from you." Honesty carries its own momentum. "This is a conversation that should have happened years ago."

It's amusing how genuine grins scrunch Jinyoung's face but at the same time make him even more attractive. "We'll still be Jaebum and Jinyoung. For the sake of the kids."

"Exactly. The children need us." Maybe Jaebum could use the sincerity to springboard to other things that need talking about. "And now you like someone else."

Another laugh, this time much lighter. "His awkwardness caught me. But that's not what you really want to ask, is it?"

"Are you handling it? I'm asking this as your leader."

"I'm dealing," Jinyoung answers. "I'm sorry I made things awkward in the group. I'll fix it."

"Thanks. And Jinyoung? Remember what I said. You don't have to go through this alone."

"I know. I remember."

[TBC]

Tacenda [Got7]

verocity — Thu, 26 Jun 2014 19:46:13 GMT

Title: Tacenda [Chapter 2]
Main Character: Jaebum
Warnings: -none-
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,246
Summary: This is a story about things that should not be said.
Notes: New fandom, new writing style~ Thanks to Jess for the sudden beta request! ♥

[1]

"Where’s Jinyoung?"

Jackson and Bambam don’t even glance away from the television. Youngjae, curled up on the couch, says, "Last I saw him he went out with Mark-hyung."

Yugyeom looks up from his spot on the floor. "That was hours ago," he says thoughtfully and glances at his phone. "And it’s getting pretty late."

Jaebum frowns, more in surprise than anything.

"Just leave them to their date," Jackson says, forehead creased as he tries to keep pace with the drama’s dialogue. "Maybe they’ll come back all relaxed and stuff."

"That’s gross," Bambam says without any conviction.

"No, it’s gay but it’s not gross."

Jaebum starts dialing on his phone but the door opens before he can make the call.

"We bought chicken for everyone," Jinyoung announces, raising a box that smells too greasy to be healthy.

"It’s also way past dinner time." Jaebum looks closely at them. No torn clothes, no grab marks... Looks like they didn’t run into fans. "Almost lights out, actually."

"Had to wait until the alleys cleared up," Mark explains. They were able to map out a few escape routes that allowed them to sneak in and out unnoticed, but the paths were hidden in plain sight meaning the group had to be very subtle about using them.

"We already had dinner anyway," Youngjae says. He gets on his feet and stretches languidly. "I’m off to bed. Glad you’re home safe, hyungs."

"Let’s just have this for breakfast, then." Jinyoung heads for the kitchen.

"What?" Mark asks when he notices Jaebum looking sternly at him.

Jaebum shakes his head. "You and Jinyoung have been going out a lot lately," he answers casually. Jackson turns to watch them. The man can sense undertones from a mile away.

Mark shrugs, completely casual. "I’ve been feeling claustrophobic."

Mark never lies. But when he’s protecting someone he doesn’t really say the whole truth either.

"Are they secretly dating?" Jackson whispers with a lurid wink at Mark’s reflection in the practice room mirror. "You can tell me, I promise to keep quiet."

Jaebum raises an eyebrow at him. "Fifty pushups. Now."

"Aw man!!"

Jaebum doesn’t particularly mind yet.

They’re on their way to the van after the last magazine interview of the day. Jaebum, busy sending his initial report via text message to their scheduling manager, feels someone tap his shoulder lightly. He looks up and sees Jinyoung already walking down toward the other set of elevators, not the one that leads to the basement parking.

"Hey-" but before Jaebum can call out, Mark brushes past him, turns on his heel to offer a hurried apologetic bow, and rushes after Jinyoung.

"Can I go with them?" Bambam asks from behind. Jackson, Youngjae, Bambam, and Yugyeom are already out of sight. "Looks like those two are up to something fun."

Jaebum keeps staring down the hall where Jinyoung just disappeared off to. The best friend in him is fighting the leader ideals he’d built up over the year. "I’m not so sure. But as long as they’re back safely by curfew then I don’t mind how they choose to relax."

Bambam thinks about that. Jaebum starts thinking faster. "What if I-"

"And they don’t break any laws."

"Then if-"

"And don’t draw any attention to themselves."

"I see."

"And don’t break anything."

"Duly noted."

"No doing anything crazy."

"Hmm."

Jaebum narrows his eyes at Bambam. "You’re coming home with me."

"That’s unfair!"

"I’m just protecting the group," Jaebum explains. Bambam follows him, pretending to fume but there’s a pleased glint his eyes. He loves it when people acknowledge that he’s dangerous.

"Where are Jinyoung-hyung and Mark-hyung?" Yugyeom asks when they meet up. Youngjae is holding the elevator door open with his foot.

"They’re out to get dinner." It’s not technically a lie, Jaebum thinks, if he knows Jinyoung will buy food for them anyway.

"Again?" Youngjae grins widely at the oppurtunity. "I want fried chicken."

Jaebum shrugs and Youngjae pulls out his phone to text the menu. They might as well get free meals for Jaebum’s lenience.

The way Jackson is quietly contemplating the floor as they descend tells Jaebum that they’re not going to get away with this for long.

The football lazily rolls on the floor. Jackson startles in surprise and drops his slice of bread on the table. Jinyoung notices only when it hits his ankle.

"Wanna play a few rounds, hyung?" Youngjae asks, beaming in excitement at Jinyoung. He looks more confident in a sports jersey than in their idol costumes. It’s slightly alarming.

"You mean you actually use that?" Jackson stares at the football in disbelief. "I thought it was just for decoration or something."

It’s still early enough in the morning to get away with an hour of fun and games. Jaebum approves. There’s time to be driven and there’s time to chill.

Jinyoung blinks thrice, a passable mimicry of trying to wake himself to cover the surprise. "I’d like that," he says with sleepy cheer that cracks at the edges, "but I have to meet a few coordi noonas for some image ideas. We need more colors, you know? We need to balance Jackson’s consistent red and black."

"Red is wild and black is sexy, just like me."

Disappointment doesn’t look good on anyone, but Youngjae’s lack of control over his expressions makes him look even worse. "Oh."

"I’ll come with you, hyung." This comes from a surprising source. Bambam drains his mug of too sweet coffee. "I’ve been wanting a new image for weeks now. And I‘d rather be around when the noonas come up with something so I can say no. Not that they’ll listen to me or anything but it’s nice to pretend."

Jinyoung nods. "Okay. Get dressed, then." Jaebum hears the hesitation in Jinyoung’s voice, but he’s still half asleep and it’s too early to deal with this kind of shit.

Bambam disappears into the bathroom, Jinyoung makes his coffee, and Youngjae sits at the table and rests his chin on his hands.

Jackson crams the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and rubs his hands full of energy. "Come on, I’ll play with you," he mumbles around his breakfast. Youngjae’s quirked eyebrow is perfectly deprecating. "Don’t look at me like that, I’ll kick your ass ten to one and you know it. I bet you can’t even kick a goal past me, brat."

Jaebum is also too sleepy to actually sigh in exasperation. He appreciates Jackson’s emotional sensitivity, he really does, but going overboard really doesn’t do much help in the long run.

Mark wakes up ten minutes after Jackson and Youngjae leave. The first thing Jaebum hears from him is, "Where’s Jinyoung?"

"Youngjae asked him to play football."

It’s there for only less than a second. The apprehension in Mark’s eyes. The worry. But it’s gone in the blink of an eye.

"I thought Jinyoung-hyung went out with Bambam?" Yugyeom mumbles as he pours Mark his coffee.

"Oh yeah," Jaebum says. "My bad."

And again - there for only a moment, visible only to those who know him well - Jaebum catches Mark’s relief.

He knows he’s been relying on Jinyoung enough to also know that Jinyoung is the group’s shadow leader. Mothers tend to be like that.

So it’s no surprise to him that he begins to feel off-balance when Jinyoung starts being around less and less.

Jaebum breathes deeply and collects himself. A leader must learn to stand on his own.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Bambam asks back, perfectly innocent. Pretending like he didn’t try to get Jinyoung to talk about what’s really going on. But Jaebum knows better.

"Well what do you think is happening?" Jaebum elaborates.

They only have a few minutes: Jaebum has voice lessons to go to and Bambam has a variety show to prepare for.

Bambam hums a tune to himself for a few seconds. "I think," he says carefully, "you are going to have a lot on your plate soon, hyung."

Jaebum doesn’t say anything. He already knows.

"Umma is so brave and quiet," Bambam continues quietly. His tone draws Jaebum closer. Bambam is rarely this sincere. "It’s hard to believe that he’s in pain."

Jaebum already knows that, too.

Youngjae breaks the ice by bringing Jinyoung a cup of roasted rice tea. "This is great for relaxation," Youngjae says brightly, "and it’s wonderful for your voice." Jinyoung, surprised, amused, takes the cup and grins.

Jaebum watches them from the corner of the room.

"Rice tea can only do so much." Jinyoung takes a sip and closes his eyes. "Talent can do more."

"So does hard work and practice," Youngjae answers smoothly. "So let’s practice together later? Or we could just hang out. Take care of our voices by getting more brewed tea."

"Maybe we should."

"Hey, why didn’t I get one?" Jackson calls out loudly as he approaches. "I need to relax too, man, and my voice is-"

"Come on, Jackson." Mark drags a protesting Jackson away by the collar of his shirt.

Wisdom has nothing to do with age.

"Yugyeom?"

"Yes, hyung?"

"What would you do when someone you respect so much is hurting quietly? But he doesn’t want anyone to know?"

"That’s a hard question, hyung." Yugyeom bites his lip in thought. "I guess… I’ll just be there for him. And wait until he works through it or asks for my help."

"How have you been?" Jaebum asks while they’re waiting for the debrief to start.

The show just finished recording and the others took the short break as a chance to grab drinks. Bambam suggested beer, Jackson didn’t exactly discourage him, Mark’s face lit up, and Youngjae couldn’t believe his ears. Yugyeom, used to his hyung’s antics, chimed in and everyone rescinded their enthusiasm "because the magnae’s with us," "we shouldn’t be a bad influence on him," "he’s such a burden," so they settled on stalking the soda machine down the hall instead.

"You ask as if I haven’t been around," Jinyoung answers with a bemused smile.

"Maybe we’ve both just been too busy."

The producers arrive and the talk turns to post-production schedules. Jinyoung, ever the hard worker, throws himself enthusiastically into the discussion and Jaebum isn’t even surprised.

"How about here?" Youngjae shows his phone to Jinyoung, points and drags at the screen with his fingers. "The reviews are great and they have yogurt tea, which sounds weird but apparently it’s their best seller."

Yogurt tea sounds healthy, Jaebum thinks, but he foregoes asking them for takeouts for the rest of the group. These two spend so little time together as it is-

"Actually. Maybe not today?" Jinyoung asks, his voice fully apologetic.

"Oh." For someone as expressive as Youngjae, an empty expression is completely alarming. "You’ve got something to do?"

"Yeah." Jinyoung hugs Youngjae briefly from the side. "Umma’s kinda busy."

"Some other time, then?"

"Yeah, of course. There’ll be other times."

For someone as sincere as Jinyoung, a false promise is even worse.

Hyung?

Jaebum blinks at his phone. Youngjae is sitting right behind him in the van. He doesn’t turn around and just quietly taps at the screen. What’s up?

A minute of waiting. Why is Jinyoung-hyung avoiding me?

Jaebum keeps his expression neutral. Is he?

Hyung. It’s so easy to imagine the affront on Youngjae’s face.

They arrive at their next schedule. They hustle to reach the radio booth in time, whereas Jaebum is just glad for the distraction.

"Seriously," Jackson says in his conspiracy voice, "I think the group has a secret couple except that they’re not keeping it so secret anymore." He gestures at Mark and Jinyoung on the other side of the studio quietly sharing a book.

Jaebum sighs deeply. "Laundry duty. Starting this weekend."

"But-"

His arms shake. He lets himself fall to the floor. It’s hard but it doesn’t hurt much, he laid the yoga mats carefully, and he used to do this alone before he started relying on his human cushion.

Where Jaebum has maturity, Yugyeom has kindness.

Jaebum normally prefers actual conversation over text messages but sometimes the options for conversation are limited. Sometimes you reach people by whatever method they keep open.

Jinyoung. As your friend I’m telling you that I’m here for you. But as your leader I’m telling you to get your shit together. You running away isn’t solving anything.

But that’s not all he wants to say. For Jaebum, honesty and integrity are almost the same thing.

I need you too, man. I need my best friend.

But he doesn’t send it. A leader must be able to stand on his own.

Jaebum stares at the ceiling, breathes tiredly, and tries to wipe his mind blank.

They’re just about ready to sleep when the door to their room opens and Jinyoung is outlined by light from the hallway.

"Yeah?" Jaebum asks. It’s not the first time Jinyoung couldn’t sleep for all the voices in his head. "Wait, let me just-"

"Actually, hyung," Jinyoung interrupts, "can I talk to Youngjae?"

There’s silence for a second. "Sure, hyung," Youngjae answers. He’s tired (they’re all tired) but he pushes himself from bed and Jaebum can’t see his expression in the dark.

Youngjae shuffles out and Jinyoung closes the door behind him. Jaebum expects to feel relieved. He wonders why he’s suddenly overwhelmed with apprehension.

His phone is blinking in the dark. There’s a text from Jinyoung.

Message received, leader-sshi.

[next]

I'm back! Whether you like it or not!

verocity — Sun, 15 Jun 2014 07:08:37 GMT

Everything's quiet.

Too quiet.

Maybe I should mess things up a little, huh?

SO. Yes. I'm coming out of retirement. Not that my retirement was ever solid in the first place ahaha-

MORE BADFIC FOR EVERYONE!!

For reference, current fandoms are:
2PM
2AM
Infinite
Got7

Tacenda [Got7]

verocity — Sun, 15 Jun 2014 06:52:44 GMT

Title: Tacenda [Chapter 1]
Main Character: Jaebum
Warnings: -none-
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,464
Summary: This is a story about things that should not be said.
Notes: New fandom, new writing style~

It starts with a cup of roasted rice tea.

Okay, more likely it started much earlier and deeper than that, but to Jaebum that's when the pieces fall into place. Youngjae is crouched against the greenroom wall, a picture of perfect misery and has almost completely shut himself off from the rest of the world, but for what nobody has any idea. He can be so stubbornly independent at the wrong times. Jaebum would go to him even if only to ask what's wrong, except that... well, Youngjae can be really stubbornly independent when he's like this, and stubborn independence lends easily to fierce loneliness.

It's natural for the rest of the group to notice. Even Jackson's usual exuberance is toned down (although you really need to know Jackson to notice the drop in energy), Mark is shooting furtive glances at Jaebum as if quietly asking him when he's going to step into the Leader Shoes and find out what's wrong, Yugyeom is studiously watching their latest rehearsal for any last minute adjustments, and Bambam is still the same ball of alien restlessness that they can't quite figure out just yet.

They're one member short. It takes a while to notice these things.

But before Jaebum can steel himself to rouse Youngjae, the door opens and Jinyoung steps in with a cup of what smells like rice tea. Lukewarm; but that's understandable, he must have bought it from the other canteen, the one on the far side of the building.

He sits beside Youngjae and just like that they’re enclosed in a tiny bubble of privacy. Jinyoung has perfected the art of speaking quietly. Whatever he says, nobody but Youngjae hears even in a room this cramped.

Pretty soon Youngjae breathes deeply and sighs, takes the cup of tea from Jinyoung and downs it in one long shot.

And right then, when the situation seems to be over, Jaebum gets a hunch.

They have this tradition: Jaebum would drag Jinyoung to the quietest room he can find, Jinyoung would protest because people could start looking for them at any moment, Jaebum would laugh and fill the silence with pointless chatter until Jinyoung starts laughing along.

Jaebum would stand on his hands and try to hold out as long as he can, Jinyoung would time him in counts of verses from songs, then Jaebum would tire and tilt over in Jinyoung's direction. Jinyoung would protest but won't move out of the way, Jinyoung would allow himself to be knocked over. Then they'll lie there in all their awkwardness and... talk. About anything.

Sometimes they talk the night away.

"I think you're my best friend," Jinyoung says once. It was after their debut for Bounce, Jaebum has a sharp memory when he associates them with performances.

Jaebum grins lightly. "Dude, that's not something you think, that's something that just happens."

"Well, it happened." Jinyoung says it like a fact. The sky is blue. Pizza is delicious. You're my best friend. It happened. "I can be very clingy to my best friends," he cautions and Jaebum accepts the warning.

But that was then, and Jaebum thinks it isn't fair to label that moment as the point when everything started. There had been a lot of quiet laughter. A lot of nervous sharing of dreams. A lot of doubts, a lot of 'can we really do this' and 'I have no idea what's going to happen'. There'd been a strained tendon, knotted muscles that Jinyoung couldn't massage away, heartbreak that Jaebum couldn’t console.

That was then and a lot has changed. It's harder to find a quiet room now that they're living with five more guys, it's harder to find the time to breathe now that they're juggling schedules left and right.

But it happens.

One way or another, it still happens.

"You've been holding out on me," Jaebum says, panting from the strain.

"No idea what you're talking about," Jinyoung answers with a grimace from having acted as Jaebum's human crash cushion, saving their charismatic leader from an intimate meeting with the living room floor.

An executive decision was made earlier that day. Mark was put in charge of restocking their diminishing food supplies, which basically means Mark is trying to stop Jackson from spending the whole budget while Jackson is pretending to want nothing more than snacks but he's really following the grocery list in written his head. Bambam is good at disappearing in the crowd, which isn't easy for someone who glows with confidence but somehow he manages it. Yugyeom sometimes tags along.

Jaebum bets that Youngjae is asleep in the car; Jinyoung thinks he's watching football on his phone. (They both forget to check who's right.)

"You never get me drinks," Jaebum starts. Jinyoung doesn't exactly react, but the non-reaction is a clue in itself. They’ve known each other long enough. "And rice tea? That was a pretty specific thing to get him."

Jinyoung shrugs. "He likes it." Shrugging is hard when you're pressed between a cold hard floor and a leader that's determined to talk.

"Not on a regular basis," Jaebum points out. "Not as comfort food. Or at least I didn't think so."

"Dude, seriously, get off-"

"I'm not moving~ Not until you tell me what it is about him that caught you."

Jinyoung stills completely at that. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Jinyoung, come on, I'm not going to judge." Which Jinyoung does know, Jaebum just feels like reminding him. It's not an insult to their friendship that Jinyoung doesn't want to talk about this. He'd been through some very rough times. "But you're my best friend and he's practically my younger brother. I want to know." So I can protect you both if it comes to it, but Jaebum doesn't say that.

"Will you accept it if I say I don't want to talk about it?"

Pause. "I will. Will you listen to me if I say you don't have to suffer through it alone?"

"... I will. Thanks, Jaebum."

"Hey, like I said you're my best friend. Somehow."

Everything seems to work for the most part.

Bambam tries to cook tom yum. Jackson tries to interfere, which basically ends with him sneezing a spoonful of chili powder on Bambam’s face. Yugyeom laughs along even as Bambam desperately tries to stop crying into the sink. Youngjae walks in, takes one look at the situation, and promptly walks back out.

If anyone notices that Jinyoung is starting to spend an awful lot of time outside with Mark, nobody says a word to Jaebum.

“Hyung.”

Jaebum slowly opens his eyes. “Yeah?” The day’s exhaustion is threatening to pull him under but Jaebum believes in being a good hyung.

Youngjae is staring resolutely at the ceiling. The expression is familiar; the body is tired but the mind is wide awake. “Did I do anything wrong?”

Loaded questions are so hard to deal with. “Are we talking about dance?”

“Maybe?” Youngjae hasn’t even looked at him, he’s too wrapped up in what he can see inside his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I know I do a lot of things wrong but-”

“Hey.” Jaebum pushes the fatigue away and takes Youngjae’s hand in his own. “We’re all still learning. And you’re doing your best. We know you can do it.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m not welcome?”

That statement needs a lot of calibration. Jaebum props himself on his elbow, peers at Youngjae in the weak nightlight. This is serious.

“Sometimes,” Youngjae continues, “I feel like everyone’s laughing at something that I don’t get.”

“We’re not-”

Yongjae cuts him off. “I know you’re not laughing at me, hyung, that’s not what I’m driving at.”

“You feel... left out?”

There’s a moment when Jaebum feels like Youngjae’s about to burst, like the monster that’s been eating him up has decided that there’s more prey to be had. (And that Jaebum only discovered this monster when it was already too late. Such a good leader he’s turning out to be.) But the walls hold and Youngjae exhales deeply. He pulls his blanket up to his chin and turns away. “I feel like we should just go get some sleep. Thanks for the talk, hyung. Goodnight.”

It’s hard to tell who feels more lost that night.

A leader uses his resources well.

“I thought everyone knew,” Bambam says, confused. “I mean, it was pretty obvious?”

“I had no fuckin’ idea!” Jaebum practically wails. He normally tries not to curse (he’s a perfectly groomed idol, he reminds himself) but some of the first Korean words Bambam learned were casual street curses and somehow that became a thing.

It’s just how they are. Most of it can be traced back to Jackson anyway.

“Huh.” Bambam shrugs. “It’s been going on for a while. Why bring it up now?”

“Bambam.” Jaebum’s voice echoes beautifully off the steamroom tiles. Shame that humidity plays hell with recording electronics. “You have to tell me these things!”

“It’s hard, okay! Sometimes you guys tell me to shut up, how am I supposed to know what you want me to tell you and what I should just keep quiet about?”

“Listen,” which Jaebum doesn’t really need to say because Bambam listens well. “Anything about the other members? Or about you? Or about the group? These things are important. These things you can tell me even if you think I already know, don’t assume that I already know them. Actually, it’s better to assume that I don’t know them. You guys are worth the overcommunication.”

Bambam nods enthusiastically. Beads of sweat flick everywhere. “Got it. Overcommunication about the members: check.”

“On the other hand, Jackson farting under the blanket and smothering you with it? That doesn’t count.”

“Wait, that’s also about-”

“Bambam.”

Bambam laughs, unabashed. “I get it, don’t worry.” The piece of shit. “I have one more thing to say, though.”

“Which is?”

Bambam leans in and hugs Jaebum tightly in one arm. “You’re doing a great job, hyung. Best leader I can ever hope to have. I’m glad to be on your team.”

Okay, so maybe Jaebum can forgive the sweaty contact just this once.

It’s only when he’s getting propped for makeup that Jaebum realizes Bambam didn’t really say anything about what Jaebum wanted to know.

“Bambam!”

Bambam escapes with a grin, leaving a bemused Yugyeom on the couch.

Youngjae outsings them all that day.

It’s not new, he’s always been a solid vocal, but he’s never left them this far behind before, never left them in the dust when it comes to sheer power and flexibility. He’s never sang these adlibs before, power belting and never going off tune, challenging the chords and leaving everyone gaping.

He’s never deliberately broken the group balance just to catch attention before.

Jaebum is going to have a hard time explaining this to the coaches. Assuming that JYP himself doesn’t hound him.

The chorus of looks that greets him in the training room is dissonant.

There’s Mark’s quiet concern, knowing that Jaebum just came from a severe verbal coaching. There’s Jackson trying to contain himself, a rare show of tact because he can’t decide whether to be proud or proactive. There’s Bambam carefully disentangled from the group, keeping to himself at a corner of the room and watching Jaebum intently. There’s Yugyeom standing motionless, easy to forget that he’s around unless there’s a reason for him to draw attention.

There’s Jinyoung looking exhausted. Which is strange but Jaebum should have expected it.

And there’s Youngjae looking at the floor defiantly. This is not the Youngjae that Jaebum knows.

Some matters are too pressing for tact. Some messages have to be reinforced. “Mark, take everyone to the gym. Flexibility exercises. Jackson, you’re on disciplinary duty.” And that’s the code for ‘some serious shit is about to go down’. Jackson takes his disciplinary duties seriously. “Youngjae, stay here.”

Four of them file out quietly.

Jaebum does not expect Jinyoung to stand between him and Youngjae, to face him and ask for understanding.

“Jae, he-”

“Jinyoung, I won’t be harsh on him.”

Jinyoung nods. Shoots one last look at Youngjae and follows the others out the door.

They wait until the footsteps fade completely. Jaebum watches Youngjae turn his defenses down one by one until he looks nothing more than tired. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Jaebum says flatly, and Youngjae flinches. “Don’t get me wrong, I am so proud of you and how much your vocal skills have grown. You’ve surpassed me completely now. I can’t do those vocal acrobatics and maintain the power and control you just displayed. But even if I could do it, I wouldn’t have. Not yet. Not when the difference between your skills and ours is still so pronounced.”

“Hyung, my voice is the only thing good about me, I have to capitalize on it-”

“If that’s what you learned after everything I taught you, then I’m not as good a mentor as I think I am.”

“Hyung-”

“We’re here as a team. We’re Got7. We aren’t competing with each other, we push each other forward and not leave anyone behind.”

Youngjae looks pained at that. But he keeps quiet.

“Jinyoung and Yugyeom can dance so much harder than they do these days, but they’re holding back because holding back for the sake of teamwork is not a bad thing. We’re a band. Do you know what you should have done?”

“I shouldn’t have kept my growth a secret.” Youngjae says it blankly. As if he’d always known but simply decided against it. “I should have offered to teach everyone. I should have been patient.”

“Yes. Yeah.” Jaebum allows himself to breathe more freely. “So many shoulds, huh?”

“I don’t know how you deal with it, hyung.”

“You’ll learn. I’m here to teach you. Remember?”

The others make it back from the gym looking completely worn out. Jaebum catches sight of them through the studio mirrors. He sees Jinyoung usher the rest off while Youngjae is busy committing the new body angles he learned to muscle memory.

The two of them arrive home when everyone else is cooling down. Jackson left them bowls of dinner on the table, Yugyeom has just started washing the dishes.

“Can you guys eat quickly, please?” Yugyeom asks them. “I really don’t fancy cleaning the sink twice.”

“I’ll wash our dishes, don’t worry,” Youngjae volunteers. Then to Jaebum, “Just eat well, hyung.”

Jinyoung, for all his innate poetry, communicates best through silence.

The way Jinyoung hugs Jaebum from the back, the former in his pajamas and the latter as he steps out of the shower, tells Jaebum that Jinyoung is so very proud of his best friend.

[next]

Untitled

verocity — Sat, 07 Jun 2014 00:54:54 GMT

The realization almost literally knocks Junho off his feet.

Maybe it's the way Wooyoung cracks a joke and his eyes dart awkwardly at Chansung right before he says the punchline. Maybe it's how Chansung's laugh starts frail before developing that full-body shrillness that makes him sound like a hyena.

Or maybe it's the coffee.

It can be any of those – it doesn't matter, Junho sits weakly on the couch and tries to keep his expression guarded.

"You okay?" Minjun asks, only slightly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm just-" Junho shakes his head "-yeah."

"You're not hungry, man?" he asks quietly.

Chansung raises his head and chews through a mouthful of rice. "Hmm?"

"You're not eating off my plate," Junho explains, hinting and ultimately failing at subtlety. "I'm not used to ordering for two and just eating for one."

Chansung shrugs perfectly relaxed. "I'm on a diet."

"We're supposed to be carbo-loading for the concert."

"I'm supposed to take my shirt off," Chansung answers back. "It's what I get paid for, right?"

"You're paid to dance and rap," Junho points out.

Chansung's laugh is sarcastic. "If only that were true."

Taec is seven months too late to do anything about it, three months too slow to notice, and one month away from tearing his hair off in frustration.

"You don't think I noticed?" Taec tells Junho with a deep sigh. "I've been trying to solve the problem for months."

"Maybe it's not a problem," Junho offers. It doesn't feel like a problem. Not to him. Chansung can still laugh, that must mean everything's okay with the world.

Taec shakes his head and dives back into his spreadsheets.

Junho stops just outside Chansung's room. There are people talking inside.

"Are you okay?" Wooyoung asks. Junho knows his friend enough to tell that this is a moment of vulnerability.

"I'm always okay," Chansung answers confidently. "You know me."

"Yeah, I do," Wooyoung admits. A sharp breath. Wooyoung speaks softly that Junho strains to hear it. "I'm allowed to ask. I'm allowed to be your friend. You're so brave and quiet. I forget that you're suffering inside."

"Hyung," Chansung chides him, careful to project lightheartedness. Careful to keep Wooyoung away even as they sit an inch apart.

"I'm sorry," Wooyoung says. Junho hurts for them. "I can't-"

"I never asked you to," Chansung assures him. "I never will. Because you can't. I won't do that to you."

Wooyoung laughs. There's pain beneath the peals. "You're being a better friend to me than I can ever be to you."

"Hyung. Wooyoung." Chansung breathes deeply. Draws courage from where, Junho has never known, but Chansung's courage is infallible. "I'm only going to say it this last time then let's bury it in the past. I-"

There's only one thing Chansung can say. Junho lets him say it with the honor of privacy.

"Are you okay?" Khun asks when Junho barges into his room.

Junho practically sprinted over from Chansung's door, he's catching his breath and Khun is looking at him oddly. "I'm okay, hyung. Everything's fine."

Khun blinks, a punctuation of thought. "That's a loaded statement."

From outside, Junho hears Chansung crack a joke followed by Wooyoung's muffled laughter. Junho calms his breathing and says, "Maybe I'm not the one we should be asking about being okay."

He steels his nerves and goes out to be a better friend.

Wonderwall [2PM]

verocity — Sun, 27 Apr 2014 20:07:12 GMT

Fic Title: Wonderwall
Main Character: Chansung
Pairing: Chansung/Wooyoung
Warnings: -none-
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,946
Summary: By now, you should have somehow realized what you're not to do
Notes: Pinch hit for the unreal_2pm challenge. Originally posted here.

Prompt 1: children don't grow up, our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
Prompt 2: http://25.media.tumblr.com/c7f78433b874cc01030f23d524b8df77/tumblr_mxklzbZZtC1ro3n2wo1_400.gif
Prompt 3: colours

It starts with Wooyoung pouring water on his hair in front of twelve thousand fans, a concession to fanservice that's more likely a chance to cool himself after more than an hour crisping under the parlights and burning the stage with dancing. White shirt on pale skin, bright light and the love of fans. Wooyoung is practically glowing silver.

It's five acts before the last number. Chansung is loitering at the side, low-key and watched only by dedicated fans, his mic held loosely and his shirt sticking to him all over. He doesn't mind. Sweaty is a good look on him.

Wooyoung has just emptied his bottle and is taking a short breather with his eyes closed. Nichkhun is at centerstage, completely in his element when he has a keyboard in front of him. Minjun is watching him proudly. Nichkhun, under Minjun's tutelage, hs grown so much as a singer. Taecyeon, on the other hand, is stalking Wooyoung, seconds away from pulling his shirt off and Wooyoung is too buzzed on adrenaline to notice.

But for a moment that burns into Chansung's memories, Wooyoung looks... transcendent.

A soft nudge at the back of Chansung's head shakes him out of his thoughts. "What'cha thinking?" Junho, of course, looks nothing short of otherworldly.

"Nothing." And that's close to true enough, Chansung thinks. He spares one last look at Wooyoung, who's now pulling his shirt back down and running away from a laughing Taecyeon, before indulging Junho in their usual stage games.

Then it's the little things after that.

"Eat this." Junho is smart, systematic, and methodical. Junho is results-oriented. Junho, more than any of them, is ready for the lifestyle of the rich and famous. "You haven't been following your diet properly, and normally I wouldn't care but we have a major fansigning in three days and I can't let you collapse in exhaustion."

"So your response is to pass me a banana," Chansung responds with a bemused smirk. "Why give me comfort food?" It's perfectly yellow. Perfectly fresh.

"Potassium," Junho says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. He rummages through his bag, accidentally elbowing Chansung's side as he undoes the zipper. "And this is just the start. I got you iron supplements, you're starting to look too pale and I'm worried about anemia."

Wooyoung plops himself on the couch to Chansung's left. "Chansung isn't the only one who doesn't get enough sleep."

Junho winces visibly. "I did not need to know that. Guys, whatever you two do in the bedroom-"

"He means," Chansung interrupts, "that none of us have a healthy sleeping pattern. I'm not the only one possibly exposed to anemia."

"Yah, Junho," Taec calls from across the room. The new brand of concealer works perfectly on his eyebags. "You're next." Junho rolls his eyes and saunters over to the dresser. The make-up artist descends on him quickly.

"He's such a caring bestfriend, huh?" Wooyoung mutters quietly for only Chansung to hear.

"Junho and I have history, hyung, everyone knows that."

Wooyoung nods and doesn't say another word. Chansung concentrates on his banana.

The fact is that Chansung and Wooyoung haven't actually done anything interesting in the bedroom despite Junho's protests on the matter. At most, they sleep beside each other with Chansung's arm wrapped loosely around Wooyoung's waist, Wooyoung resting his head comfortably on Chansung's shoulder. Maybe things would have been raunchier by now if they were anyone else but idolhood gives people two things: unbending paranoia and consistent exhaustion.

Chansung startles awake when a towel hits his face.

"Yah, I told you to lock your room if you're going to be like that." Waking up to Junho's nagging has become an everyday occurance.

Chansung pulls the towel off, careful movements to not disturb Wooyoung. He watches blearily as Junho rummages through Chansung's drawers for... something. One of the hundreds of things they share as best friends. They've lost track of who owns what, but Chansung has much fewer things hence much more storage space.

"We didn't do anything," Chansung mumbles sleepily. Wooyoung frowns and nuzzles deeper into Chansung's arms. "And I locked my room, hyung. You just happen to have a key."

"Use the deadbolt, at least." Junho glances at the back of Chansung's door. "Or install a deadbolt then use it, much better privacy that way."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Wooyoung asks, still not surfacing from his spot, his face half buried in Chansung's armpit. "We have a late schedule today."

"Some of us actually have to be in early at the studio because of tight production deadlines," Junho quips back. He slams Chansung's drawer shut. Loudly. "Hey Chansungie, can I borrow this?" He raises a cream-colored tube of... something. They have too much stuff and it's too early in the day to do mental inventories. "I can't find mine and the coordis have been stressing over my dry skin."

Mositurizer, then. Chansung squints at it. "I think that one's yours in the first place. I don't buy that brand."

"So that's where it went." Junho nods knowingly. "Wonderful. Hey, I gotta go, Minjun-hyung and I have songs to mix. See you guys at lunch." Junho strides out the door, pokes his head back in and follows up with, "And if you're going to do anything funny, lock the door." He leaves without waiting for a response.

"Why does he have your key?" Wooyoung raises his head and tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He pushes himself off the bed, waits for Chansung to do the same.

"My closet is his closet," Chansung answers. He doesn't meet Wooyoung's eyes.

Wooyoung is much quieter than usual for the rest of the day.

"So... what are you two?"

This isn't a conversation Chansung wants to have while sitting in an out-of-the-way corner of a busy photography studio. Magazine shoots for a Romanian fashion brand that's trying to penetrate the Korean market and release their autumn collection. They're all wearing shades of pastel earth. Chansung can't even pronounce the name. It's all the same to him by now.

Junho, on the other hand, has probably researched the company's style all the way to its inception.

"We're not anything, Junho," Chansung says neutrally. "We're just... hanging out."

"If I may disagree," Junho leads in. Chansung isn't surprised that he already has opinions. "You're starting to get touchy with him. And he's allowing himself to be touched. Thats not 'not anything'." Junho completes that with finger quotes.

"I'm always touchy with everyone." Chansung sounds defensive even to himself. He glances at Wooyoung talking with the digital artist about his set. "And I'm pretty sure Khun-hyung has-"

"Don't bring Khun into this," Junho says with a quick laugh. They both watch Khun as he dazzles the camera, looking immaculate in an overcoat the color of dried leaves. "He's on a completely different scale. He worms his way into people's lives before they know any better. Like some personal space invader."

"You make him sound like an alien." But Chansung admits that Junho is pretty much right. "Although he's the one who broke into Wooyoung's shell first. If Khun-hyung hadn't, we'd still be dealing with bitchface ice-prince." As they lovingly called Wooyoung back in the days.

"That's true." Junho takes a sip of bottled water, careful not to ruin his lip gloss. "But you two?"

"We're not anything, hyung," Chansung repeats. This is really not a conversation he wants to have. With Junho, more than anyone.

"I'm just asking," Junho repeats, feigning innocence complete with raised hands and an attempt at wide eyes. "Because I think Wooyoung thinks it's something. Hey, I think it's our turn. Come on, the sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get rid of these heel lifts."

"I don't feel your pain."

"You and your abnormally long torso need to get off my case, man."

They're split into Old Boys and Young Boys again on the way home. It's an unspoken segregation by now, their default state of grouping. Wooyoung leans tiredly against Chansung and closes his eyes. He's half asleep in a matter of seconds.

Chansung meets Junho's eyes reflected on the tinted window. Junho is frowning at him. Chansung keeps his face blank and turns away.

"There's a flower in your hair," Chansung tells Wooyoung when he drops on the sand beside him. "You look soooooo pretty." The bonfire throws a tone of warm yellow on everything, it doesn't matter that the moon is full and the stars are littering the sky. The beach is always lovely this time of year.

Wooyoung laughs, picks the flower off and twirls it in his fingers. It looks brown in the firelight. "Fan service," he explains. "Ran into a few of the calmer fans. Thought I'd let them take a few pictures since they were so polite. And I'm pretty even without the flower, thank you very much."

"This is a vacation for a reason," Chansung reminds him. "Not supposed to be idols today, remember?"

The others are scattered all over the resort. Taec's probably still on the phone with management, Khun still on the phone with whoever. Minjun might as well be checking out the local bar. Junho is sitting much closer to the water, contemplative and introspective and in one of his moods.

Chansung lays an arm around Wooyoung's shoulders, never mind that the fire is warm enough.

"This is nice," Wooyoung says peacefully.

"Yeah, I'm glad we decided to push through with this break."

"Not just that." Wooyoung twines his fingers with Chansung's, but loosely enough that they could easily pretend it's not intimate. "I mean being alone with you. Out here. I like it." He threads the flower into Chansung's hair. "And you're sooooo pretty."

Chansung laughs and lets Wooyoung play with his hair. Junho used to do it all the time. "I'm prettier than you, hyung. And I like it too."

He doesn't know how long they stay like that, close, playful, but the moment breaks when Wooyoung leans closer while Chansung is half spaced out. Their lips aren't pressed together for a long time, but... Chansung could tell by Wooyoung's expression when he pulls back that it was long enough to form a conclussion.

"You're..." Wooyoung's eyes are sad, but the rest of his expression is guarded. "You haven't thought about what we are yet, haven't you? What we might be?"

Chansung is still blinking through the mood whiplash, taken too off-guard to respond.

Wooyoung laughs, but it sounds too full of bitter defeat. He glances away, at some spot closer to the water. At Junho, Chansung knows, who yelps when a large wave splashes into the sand. "I'm interested in us being something," Wooyoung says, looking back at Chansung. "But you have to make up your mind. I'm not him. And I won't be him for you."

"Hyung." Chansung knows what he wants to say. He doesn't know how to say it. "I..."

"Tell me when you're ready?" Wooyoung asks, patting Chansung's cheek lightly. Distantly. A decidedly friendly gesture.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Chansung twitches guiltily, looks up at Junho standing over them looking cold and slightly wet.

"Nothing," Wooyoung answers. "Just clearing up a few things. I'm gonna look for Minjun, maybe he's found the good drinks by now." He leaves without meeting their eyes.

"Did you know you have a flower in your hair?" Junho plucks the flower off Chansung's head as he sits down. "Is it from Wooyoungie?"

Chansung doesn't want to talk about Wooyoung right now. Not with Junho.

Never with Junho.

Chansung takes the flower and tosses it into the fire.

Lucky Sidefic

verocity — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 15:46:44 GMT

For chanyeolanda: the "omg what am i doing" chang.joe bathroom scene

"Hey, big guy."

"Hey."

Byunghun leans against the wall and slides down to sit beside Changjo. "Your pizza's getting cold. We can microwave it but it won't be the same. I know you hate chewy crusts." Changjo snorts, a small sound like he's trying to keep it in, but Byunghun supposes it's as good a reaction as any. "Nothing I can do about the soda, though. Junhyung snarled at me when I told him to set some aside for you."

Changjo doesn't answer. Byunghun breathes deep, rests a shoulder against Changjo's as the latter curls up into himself even more, hides behind his crossed arms.

"Junhyung's a soda fiend," Changjo says after a while. "Bigger than I am."

They lapse into silence, Byunghun tapping his nails against the bathroom floor tiles, the sharp clicks echoing softly.

"What's all this about?" Byunghun asks when he feels that Changjo isn't going to say anything. "I'm sorry for not knowing, you know how I'm always so out of the loop. I can be so dumb sometimes."

"Stop putting yourself down," Changjo murmurs. "You're not dumb. You're just. Spacey. Inattentive."

Byunghun grins. Lays an arm across Changjo's shoulders and pulls him closer, awkward as it was; Changjo's shoulders were wide, almost too wide for Byunghun to comfort. "You're my best friend. You know that's why I burden you, right?"

"Yeah. I know."

"So if I ask what's happening, it's because I'm really concerned. And I have no idea what's happening. I don't like not knowing what's bothering my best friend." Byunghun feels Changjo almost pull away, almost shrink into himself, but Byunghun stops him with soft rubs of his fingertips. "Come on. Tell me."

That, at least, pulls some of Changjo out, even if it's just a short puff of irritation. "You know I'm moody, just leave me alone, this will pass."

"Nope," Byunghun answers cheerfully, "not going anywhere. I like it here."

"In Yun's bathroom?"

"That, too, he keeps it cleaner than ours. You should ask him over more often, maybe he'll clean our place."

That's draws a full laugh, short-lived though it was. "My boyfriend is not our personal cleaning lady."

"I'm just saying," Byunghun teases. "Our place is a mess compared to his."

"Yeah. He's too good for me. I don't deserve him."

"Now who's being dumb?" Byunghun pinches Changjo's shoulder, too soft to hurt but hard enough to mean business. "If you missed all the signs, it doesn't look like Yun's going away either. Looks like he's here to stay."

"A lot of people say that," Changjo grumbles. "But they leave anyway. Where are they now?"

There's really nothing Byunghun can say to that, he knows it's true enough. But maybe that's not the problem. "Doesn't mean they didn't mean it when they said it. People change. We all know that."

"Yeah. People change." The surprise is that somehow, this causes Changjo to unwind an arm and pull Byunghun closer, leans his head against Byunghun's like they've had too much eggnog. "It's usually not their fault."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe they change because they don't like what they see," Changjo says. There's a dangerous flatness in his voice. A deadly form of acceptance. "Maybe they leave because they don't learn that they don't like me after all."

"Still being dumb, I see," Byunghun teases. "I'm still here. And so is Junhyung. And we know way too much about you already."

"That's 'cause you're idiots." Changjo pinches Byunghun on the cheek, half-hearted but hey, small actions count. "You should have left when you had the chance."

"Junhyung's pretty smart, come on. And I'm really persistent. I can cling to someone like damn."

"I can be good at pushing people away. It won't be the first time." Changjo laughs. This time isn't so good, all bitterness in the melody. "I've had a lot of practice."

"I don't think I'm going anywhere," Byunghun insists. "I mean, knowing too much about you is more than enough; I don't want to go through that again with anyone else."

"Is that so?"

"Of course. But."

"But?" Changjo's breath hitches. Buts aren't usually good.

Byunghun pulls free of Changjo's arms and stands up. Grabs Changjo's hand and pulls him to his feet, a token effort because Changjo's too heavy for Byunghun unless Changjo goes along. Which he does this time. "You should also give us a fair chance to live up to it. Don't just assume that we'll leave. And no pushing us away when you think we're getting tired of you. Because it's irritating, yes, and we're both going to lose out on each other's awesomeness. Okay?"

Changjo keeps his eyes on the floor. "Okay. Fair chance. Okay."

"Say it like you mean it, come on." Byunghun taps the side of Changjo's face. "Look at me in the eyes like a man."

Changjo's short, sharp breaths could have been full laughter during happier times, but hey, this is already pretty good. He raises his head, although it doesn't take much for him to catch Byunghun's eyes. "I'm screwed up in the head, aren't I?"

"A bit, yeah," Byunghun agrees. "But we love you anyway. Yun's got it bad if I'm any judge."

"I'll work on it," Changjo promises him. "I- it can take a bit of time, okay, and I can be a jerk."

"That's not a surprise." Byunghun opens his arms wide but doesn't move in, lets Changjo come closer on his own. Because some decisions, no matter how small, need to be owned. "We'll be around. Just don't let us feel like you don't want us around, okay? We're not saints."

Changjo's laugh is a bit fuller this time, small steps to feeling good again, something Byunghun feels as Changjo presses them together tighter. "Yeah. You guys love me. I believe you. Even if I don't know why."

"We don't know, either. Now come on, the pizza's getting cold. And there are people out there waiting to see you out there. I don't think Yun's willing to rent his bathroom out as your new room and I've already gotten used to living with you, okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Fine."

Changjo plasters a smile on his face as Byunghun opens the door.

"Pizza's goddamn frozen already, you big baby," Junhyung gripes, which earns him a loving punch on the shoulder. "There's no soda left but Yun has a few beers in his fridge."

"You okay?" Yun asks lightly, enough to mask the worry.

"Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Want to stay the night?"

Changjo glances at Byunghun, who's busy having his hair ruffled by a very relieved Chunji. "I'd like that."

The Seventh Guest (1/3) [Infinite]

verocity — Thu, 26 Dec 2013 18:42:15 GMT

Title: The Seventh Guest
Author: verocity
Pairing/Focus: Sunggyu | (Sunggyu/Woohyun on the side)
Rating: PG
Current word count: 23,636
Summary: They are Infinite, because Sunggyu is there and Sunggyu will protect them in any way he can, and that makes them his Infinite no matter who they are, no matter what. (A story of leadership and responsibility set against a backdrop of magic and fantasy. Starring Infinite and fairies and a very frustrated Sunggyu.)
Author's Notes: Thanks to Bob and Reeza for enduring my untimely spazzing over this fic. The structure of magic and places referenced here are based heavily on Magic: The Gathering. Originally posted here.

"Infinite?" the floor director asks with a glance at her clipboard. "You're next."

Sunggyu knows there's no point in asking them if they're ready. They're Infinite. They're primed to perform at the drop of a hat. This is who they are.

"We're the last," Sungyeol says blankly.

"Always close the show with a bang," Howon smirks, confident, always so intense whenever he gets his head in the game.

"Let's just have fun out there, guys," Dongwoo chides everyone, but all it earns is a nod from a focused Sungjong.

"Good maknae," Woohyun teases. He undoes another button on his top and Myungsoo rolls his eyes at the lack of finesse.

Sunggyu breathes deep. Gives his members one last look, catches himself when his eyes linger a split-second longer on Woohyun, and nods gamely. "Then let's do this."

They take the stage.

And they're back in the zone. World-class idols in their natural element, sharp moves and sharper angles executed flawless in as perfect a synchronicity as anyone can get. This is their music, committed to heart and muscle memory from countless hours practicing under Sunggyu's unforgiving standards. Everything they have now borne from years of hard work.

From the smoothness of his intro to the force of Howon's pops and locks and the sheer sensuality of Dongwoo's rolls, made possible by talent then honed by discipline.

Sungyeol takes the center to allure the audience with sheer stage presence and Sungjong breaks out from behind him, transforming allure to seduction. The spotlight shifts to Myungsoo who shines professionally under all the attention.

The music swells and Woohyun struts to his place, and Sunggyu tries to stop himself from smirking because they've always blown the audience away, this is their game and Woohyun is a monster when he's primed, Golden Voice Nam Woohyun who flashes hearts at everyone to steal their hearts away.

But something's wrong. The sound isn't complete, the audience isn't roaring when they should be... Sunggyu turns his head and it's a moment that gets framed in his memories, a sight not to be remembered fondly.

Woohyun's eyes are frozen open in terror. His mouth is open like he's singing and his throat is strained, but Sunggyu can hear no sound coming out.

"Nice save out there, Gyu," Jinki says with two thumbs up. "Great headtone, never thought you had that technique. But I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less."

"Hey, thanks," Sunggyu says while looking around them, straining his neck to see further down the hallway. "Have you seen-" and he realizes that he's not talking to Infinite, bows almost ninety degrees "-erm. Never mind, sunbae, sorry for bothering you."

But Jinki shakes his head sadly. "I haven't seen Woohyun. But as one vocal to another? Please tell him to hang in there. This doesn't make him any less talented."

Sunggyu commits Jinki's words to heart. "I'll tell him. Thank you."

"Hyung? Did you find him?" Myungsoo asks, not bothering to hide the worry on his face when Sunggyu enters their waiting room. The rest of the group watches him warily.

"No," he says, exasperated. He heads straight to the corner and digs through his bag just to have something to do to hide his face. He's worried too but he can't let the members see that, and frustration isn't a good look on him. "But he'll turn up."

"We should go," Howon suggests. "It's getting pretty late."

"I'm sure he'll go straight home after he lets off some steam," Dongwoo adds.

Sungjong touches Sunggyu's shoulder tentatively, but what's heavier on Sunggyu's shoulders is Sungyeol's silence from across the room. He closes his eyes and tries to find a clearing of calmness in his mind, but instead he sees Woohyun cradling his head under the night sky and... crying?

Whoa. Where did that come from?

Looks like he's more out of it than he thinks.

"Yeah, let's go," he says, standing up and zipping his bag. "He's old enough to take care of himself."

He isn't naïve enough to expect a peaceful night.

"Hyung?" Quiet concern. Quieter than Sunggyu is used to, even from Sungyeol.

Sunggyu shakes his head. "Go to bed," he says. "I'll take care of him."

"Like fuck you can take care of me," Woohyun snarls, and Sungyeol sighs sadly. Sunggyu knows that part of the sadness, maybe even most of it, is directed at him. "Like fuck if you're better than me, I don't fucking need your pity." Woohyun stinks of tequila. Soju is for celebration, gin is for parties, vodka is for adventure, tequila is for when the world fucks him over.

"Are you sure?" Sungyeol asks. "You're tired, hyung, and he looks like a handful-" One of Woohyun's sneakers hits the wall an inch beside Sungyeol's head. Sungyeol doesn't even flinch.

"Don't you dare talk about me as if I'm not here." The acid in Woohyun's words congeals thickly in Sunggyu's chest. Woohyun happily drunk is groggy and infectious. Woohyun angrily drunk at three in the morning is another thing entirely. Natural athleticism and a well-honed body lead to easy violence when anger and alcohol are in command. Woohyun is already working his other shoe loose from his foot, and although Sungyeol is fast enough to dodge at this distance this is more undignified than Sunggyu is willing to stand for.

"Go to bed," Sunggyu repeats, his voice harder this time. Sungyeol's expression goes carefully blank, but he shrugs and goes back to his room with a quiet slam of the door. Sunggyu loses the softness in his eyes in an instant. "You listen to me," he hisses as he grabs Woohyun's throat and squeezes hard enough to make Woohyun realize that he means business.

Woohyun looks ready to fight back, but their eyes catch and Woohyun's fist freezes before he can throw the punch.

"You messed up. Fine. Shit happens," Sunggyu continues quietly. "That's nothing new, we're too tired to be perfect. But we get what rest we can, we work harder, and we move on. We don't get drunk off our ass and pick fights like kids just because our voice cracked during a show. Shit happens, but we deal with it."

Some people wear their failure like streaks of dried mud, something to wash away before the day ends. Others wear their failure like armor.

Woohyun rubs his neck as soon as Sunggyu lets go. They both know this is far from over. Woohyun's overwhelming need for acceptance and affirmation is both his strength and his blindness. "Brave words for a leader who resorts to slave-driving to motivate his group."

Years ago, Sunggyu would have risen to the bait, would have gotten riled up at the disrespect of age and seniority. Years ago, when the space between him and Woohyun still chafed with competition and unspoken insecurities, Sunggyu would have trapped Woohyun in a headlock and brought him down to his knees, not caring for context.

But then and now are different. In too few years, Sunggyu learned that Infinite needed a leader who would act how the members wished they themselves could act. Someone who wouldn't feel guilty for yelling at them to push against exhaustion, but at the same time carefully help each member release all the stress.

Leadership is so much more than what it's cracked up to be. Woohyun has about a quarter of it right.

Woohyun attacking him means Woohyun isn't thinking about his failure anymore. Better for a man to be angry than to be defeated. Sunggyu reaches out and Woohyun guards his neck unsteadily, but Sunggyu's hand rests on the top of Woohyun's head. A moment of softness, a small breath to get in character. An instant of regret that if circumstances were different, maybe he wouldn't have to brush all this fondness aside. "Woohyun-ah. If you don't get your ass into the bathroom right now, I'm putting you on clean-up duty for three months. Don't push it."

Woohyun's grin has always been wolfish. "Are you actually growing balls, Loser Gyu?"

"Five months," Sunggyu answers. There's cold steel in his voice. He hates it, but that doesn't matter right now. "And if you're not washing up in the next ten seconds, nobody's done the laundry for the past two weeks."

Woohyun glares at him, but he blinks, his eyes lose focus and he stumbles past Sunggyu to the bathroom. There's a sound of running water in the sink not long after.

Sunggyu lets go of a breath he doesn't realize he’s holding. He straightens the scattered shoes Woohyun knocked off the rack, tosses Woohyun's backpack to the pile of assorted stuff at the corner of the living room, takes a quick glance around to make sure there's no clue left that a fight almost broke out when everyone else is sleeping. Some of the members can be very perceptive. The faucet's still running.

He stops in front of one of the bedrooms. "Go to sleep, Sungyeol."

A small thump from behind the closed door, followed by a quiet, "Yes, hyung. And nothing happened, gotcha." Sunggyu has never been really fond of him, but when it comes to the really important stuff it's always Sungyeol who understands how Sunggyu thinks. Always knows to never skirt around the lines.

Woohyun is out cold, forehead resting against the cool ceramic bathtub. Sunggyu turns the water off, hopes he doesn't throw his back as he carries Woohyun to the bedroom, and wonders when it became so easy to touch Woohyun like this without worrying about getting addicted.

His dreams have never been straightforward. It's the mark of an artist, he keeps telling himself, tiring as it may be to wake up in the morning after dodging rainbow-colored dartboards falling from a silver-tinged sunset.

That night he dreams that he's flying high, surrounded by clouds, huge green-specked leather wings on either side of him. There are arms around his waist. "Let's dive," Woohyun's voice says in his ear, and yeah, he doesn't need to see the face, he knows it's Woohyun. And they're riding on the back of a dragon.

This isn't just exhilaration, this smile on his face. "Hold on tight," Sunggyu shouts over the sound of rushing wind. His heart skips a beat as the wings fold and they shoot for the valley below.

He wakes up exactly three seconds before the opening strains of The Chaser blares from his phone. Conditioning at its most useful.

His alarm used to be Nell for the longest time until he found the courage to kick himself and change it. Woohyun became a lot easier to wake up – or at least a lot less resistant to being woken up – after that little update.

There's the smell of eggs and ramyun wafting through the open door. The other bed is empty. It's no surprise; Woohyun always gets restless, never gets a hangover.

"Hey," Woohyun greets him as he makes his way to the fridge.

It's too early to be coherent. A pat on the back to say good morning. Woohyun isn't meeting his eyes, which is how Sunggyu can tell he's already ashamed even if he may not remember everything.

Sunggyu leans against the fridge and unscrews his bottle of milk. "Don't let it happen again," he says.

Woohyun flinches, covers up for the moment of weakness by pretending that a drop of boiling soup splashed on his forearm. "I won't. I'll practice harder."

"That, too. But I was talking about getting drunk by yourself."

Woohyun turns the stove off, turns to face Sunggyu like a man. "I'm ready for the lecture. Lay it on me." He's serious and remorseful. Sunggyu should commemorate the moment.

Sunggyu reaches out as if to pinch Woohyun's cheek and Woohyun grimaces and holds still, but Sunggyu cups the back of Woohyun's neck instead and brings their foreheads together. This isn't dangerous. He's bound himself with too many locks and chains and gave the keys to someone he can trust. "Don't ever call me Loser Gyu again."

"Hoya keeps calling you that, though."

"Hoya's digging his own grave."

Woohyun laughs. Morning breath, he hasn't brushed his teeth yet. "Is that it? That's the big lecture?"

"You don't need it. You're usually responsible enough."

"So... clean-up duty?"

"Five months." This time Sunggyu does pinch Woohyun's cheeks, much to the latter's protest. "I'm a man of my word."

"If this is a moment," Howon's voice pipes up loudly and Sunggyu doesn't pull away like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar, "can you not have it in the kitchen? Our food is rotting thanks to all your sweetness."

"Hey, we don't mind what you and Sungjong get up to at night, show some tact," Woohyun shoots back as he returns to serving the pot of noodles.

"He helps me relax," Howon says, his grin all mischief and grease. Woohyun groans and covers his ears. "In fact, he can be very-"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Sunggyu steps out to wake Dongwoo and Myungsoo, and by the time he succeeds and they trail listlessly out of their bedroom everyone else has already gotten into the breakfast rhythm.

"You okay?" Howon asks him quietly half an hour later when Sungyeol's doing the dishes and Sungjong is in the shower.

"Everything's fine," Sunggyu says confidently. He's been expecting the question. Howon doesn't follow up with words but the reproach in his expression is hard to miss. "There's nothing to worry about," Sunggyu assures him. "This won't trigger a relapse."

He turns away quickly. Sungyeol is always paying attention.

Maybe he's more bothered than he thinks.

"Did anything happen last night?" Dongwoo asks him in the hallway. The kids are in the greenroom, the managers aren't too far away, and the coordis are everywhere. They don't have privacy here (or anywhere, really) but sometimes they have to make do with what they can drag up.

Dongwoo has a rose in one hand, an unplanned gift from a fan he ran into on the way back from his break.

"Do you know that flowers die when they're plucked from the plant?" Sunggyu asks as an aside, still deciding whether he want to talk about last night at all. "I don't get why we make gifts out of dead body parts."

Dongwoo breathes out sharply, the only display of annoyance anyone in Infinite ever sees. (Outright anger, of course, is another thing entirely.) He's telling Sunggyu without words that they don't have much time, that he should think fast.

It's not like Sunggyu has a lot of options. "What did you see?"

"There's a patch of dirt on the wall beside Hoya's bedroom door," Dongwoo tells him. "It kind of looks like a shoe print."

Ah. Sunggyu knows he forgot something. "Do you think anyone else saw?" He leans against the wall, resting a back that never really stopped aching.

Dongwoo shakes his head. "If they did, they'd have said something by now. I wiped it off when no one was looking. What happened? If I'm allowed to ask." That last sentence was added hastily, as if he was afraid to encroach even after all these years of being Infinite's emotional pillar. If Sunggyu is the leader of Infinite, then Dongwoo is the heart. There are some things that only Dongwoo could see rightly, essential things invisible to Sunggyu's eyes.

Sunggyu meant it when he said that Woohyun is the only person he would trust to lead Infinite if he himself couldn't, but that's only because he knows Dongwoo would be there to keep Woohyun in line. Dongwoo isn't cut out for leadership. Kingmakers never are.

Help me- please- That's Woohyun's voice. In Sunggyu's head. From out of nowhere. Echoing and haunting, familiar but at the same time so completely strange. That's Woohyun's voice, but Sunggyu has never heard Woohyun beg for anything before. I don't know what to do, I don't know if I-

Sunggyu shakes his head vigorously. The phantom voice fades away. Dongwoo is looking at him as if he’s getting ready to call for a nurse.

There are privacies that only Dongwoo could afford. There are secrets that not even Howon or Woohyun are allowed to hear. A careful glance around them to make sure nobody's listening. All clear. "I think I'm starting to lose my grip," Sunggyu admits.

"You, hyung?" Dongwoo asks, humorously skeptical. Sunggyu is famous for never losing control over himself. "Are you actually doubting yourself now?" That's a joke between the two of them. Dongwoo knows better than anyone that Sunggyu is so filled with self-doubt.

Sunggyu leans closer, speaks softer because admissions like these deserve hushed voices. "Yesterday wasn't the first time Woohyun messed up on stage. He dealt with the other times just fine. Why didn't I see that last night was different? Why didn't I realize he'd sneak out and get drunk?"

Dongwoo nods, searching for something in Sunggyu's eyes. "You said it yourself, though. He dealt with the other times. You're not expected to know every single thing that runs in our heads." He grins dirtily. "I think you should be thankful for that."

That, at least, coaxes out a smile. "I used to be able to," Sunggyu says wistfully. "Even if I didn't know how to keep everyone in line back then. It was nice knowing that hell would break loose before it actually happened."

"I prefer this Sunggyu better." Of course Dongwoo would say that. And of course he'd mean it as well. "I think... it's because Woohyun's forgotten what it's like to fall."

Sunggyu blinks. Once, twice. An uncomfortable tightness in his chest. "Are we-"

"Not that kind of fall," Dongwoo clarifies quickly. "Although who knows? I mean as in falling like... in rock-climbing. The longer it takes you to fall, the higher you climb, the more painful losing your grip and falling becomes."

"I—see." Sunggyu needs to think about it some more but he gets what Dongwoo's trying to say. He sees a manager approaching and gives the man a thumbs-up. They should get going. "His old complex again?"

"Seems like it." Dongwoo shrugs. "He looks up to you. More than he lets on. Sometimes I think he wants to be you."

Sunggyu nods morosely. "Of course. That's the problem, isn't it."

"Huh?" Dongwoo tilts his head. He can be so much like a chicken sometimes.

Sunggyu used to be so good at compartmentalizing, too. None of these mysterious half-statements meant for someone else. But then, keeping secrets is tiring. Sometimes he just wants to let the world know so he can stop keeping facades. But that would be suicide. Some other times he just wants to isolate himself like a dragon in a cave, never posing a threat to anyone. But hah. He wants to be a singer, right? Right. "Nothing." He sighs. Another day, another variety show. "Come on, let's get this over with."

He stands straighter, rolls his shoulders to work the knots out.

"I guess we've all changed," Dongwoo says as they make their way back into the green room. "Grown up in our own little ways. That's why everything's more complicated now."

Dongwoo's words of wisdom rattle through his head the rest of the day.

"Ah, this one's interesting," Wonhee exclaims as she flips a cue card over. Sunggyu stopped feeling excited for things like these two years ago but that doesn't relieve him from the duty of pretending for the cameras. "People always ask who the members would save from a burning building, but here the fan is asking who you wouldn't save."

"Ah, that's very witty," Jaesuk trills. "A small difference in the question but it raises such a different dynamic."

"Who cares," Sunggyu hears Myungsoo mutter beside him. Four years is enough for Myungsoo to perfect how not to be heard when he doesn't want to be. At least, not by anyone who'd make a big deal of it. "It's just a word, not like it changes the scenario or anything."

"Sunggyu-sshi," Wonhee says and Sunggyu focuses on the talk show once more. "As the leader, I know this question puts you on the spot. Would you prefer to answer first or last?"

Nothing is for free, not even in the idol world, and Wonhee-sunbaenim is a veteran talk show host. Her innocent question would make an opening for everyone to rib him if he doesn't answer delicately. "It would put anyone on the spot," Sunggyu answers, all elite and matter-of-fact as if everyone should have thought of that already. "Infinite is a group. We don't leave anyone behind." A beat of silence, timed perfectly through practice. "Unless it's Sungyeol."

"Hyung!" Sungyeol yelps as everyone chuckles.

"Would that be your answer then, Sunggyu-sshi?" Jaesuk presses, an arm pointed dramatically at him. Sunggyu doesn't bother glancing around; he can imagine clearly the incredulous look on Sungyeol's face.

"Ah, no, I was just joking," Sunggyu backtracks. "Sungyeol is very important to Infinite. None of us would leave him behind."

"I would," Hoya mutters, sotto voice, but the mic doesn't catch him.

"Who, then? Who would you leave?"

That wasn't from either of the hosts. Sunggyu turns to see Woohyun watching him intently. He's got that grin again. A wolf that's smelled blood. Woohyun can be so eager sometimes, so ready to poke fun at Sunggyu on camera.

Dongwoo's right. It's the old complex again.

But Sunggyu has learned a thing or two since the last time Woohyun fell. He makes a show of thinking carefully, keeping his eyes narrowed at Woohyun. Misleading the momentum. "I would leave-" Woohyun's grin grows fractionally sharper "-Sungjong."

Freeze.

"I'm not even surprised at this point," Sungjong volunteers, and both the hosts focus on him. "Sunggyu-hyung likes to abuse me. I've stopped trying to understand why."

"Do I need a reason?" Sunggyu shoots back. "Be a good maknae and shut up." Everyone laughs, even Sungjong. "But seriously, if I absolutely have to leave someone behind in a burning building – not that I ever would – it would be Sungjong."

"We heard your answer the first time," Wonhee says, still laughing.

"But with your vehemence, I think now you have to explain why," Jaesuk adds. There's a reason why almost all the idols love Yoo Jaesuk. He just knows when someone needs to defend themselves and he gives them that chance.

"Even if I don't show it, Lee Sungjong is actually one of my favorite dongsaengs," Sunggyu announces, which really does quiet Sungjong quickly. "He still acts cute most of the time but he's grown to be a very independent man. The reason why I can leave him behind is because, of all of Infinite, he's the one person I know who won't need my help to escape a burning building without getting hurt."

"Wow." That was from Myungsoo. He leans in closer, a private whisper. "Hyung, that's actually pretty deep-"

But Woohyun drowns him out. "Our leader has always been very eloquent when he wants to be." That's not new either; Woohyun knows how to enter another person's spotlight.

"How about you, Woohyun-sshi," Dongwoo asks, speaking up for the first time. "Who would you leave behind?"

"That's obvious, hyung," Woohyun answers, turning to blind the cameras with a perfectly practiced smile. "I'll leave Sunggyu. That way, I can be the leader."

Cue laughter, cue good-natured ribbing from everyone, cue Wonhee and Jaesuk pouncing on the opening.

Cue Sunggyu catching Dongwoo's eyes, both of them thinking the same thing.

There's this feeling of being followed. This feeling of someone watching every move, someone staying carefully out of sight. There's this nagging itch at the back of Sunggyu's mind, primal instincts screaming that he's not as alone as he thinks, that silence in the trees doesn't mean the forest is empty.

The night sky is clear, crisp starlight filtering through the canopy, and Sunggyu quietly takes stock of his surroundings. He notes every shadow in the woods, pays attention to the shapes and shades and the river's gentle flow before him, tempers his fight or flight with a third option of calling for help.

There's a hunter afoot but Sunggyu has dealt with hunters before. He listens quietly.

He has friends in the forest, too, and one of them is already hiding in the darker patch of black on the nearby willow trunk. This hunter, whatever it is, picked the wrong prey-

"Hyung?"

Sunggyu turns his head quickly.

Sungjong is standing by the restroom door, lips halfway between a smirk and an irritated frown. Like he's been calling for Sunggyu on repeat. "Everyone's waiting in the van. Are you ready?"

Right. Sunggyu looks around himself. The restroom is empty. The cubicle doors are all partly open, the exhaust fan is pumping away loudly. Sunggyu has one hand under the faucet. He blinks.

Right. "I'll be out shortly," he says, wetting both hands just for something to do. What was he thinking of again? He stares at the mirror, stares at his face, stares at how... fresh he looks despite the bone-deep exhaustion he feels almost every day. The miracles of makeup.

"I'll wait for you, hyung." Sungjong leans against the wall and crosses his arms, perfectly relaxed.

Sunggyu takes deep breaths. The youngest is waiting for him. There is no excuse for any lapse of attention. Get a grip. "Come on," he says and leads the way out.

There's a new closeness between them. Sunggyu can feel it in how Sungjong walks beside him, not submissive but companionable. Quiet not because he doesn't want to speak out of turn but because if Sunggyu wants to talk then he's willing to listen, but if they don't talk then that's fine too.

"Sungjongie."

They stop at the door to the underground parking spaces.

"One day you're going to outgrow even me," Sunggyu tells him. "And as your hyung? I can't wait for it to happen. I can't wait to see the man you'll become."

Sungjong fights his smile from growing too wide. "It won't be for a while yet, hyung."

Sunggyu flicks a finger against Sungjong's forehead and the latter flinches in surprise. "Obviously." He laughs at Sungjong's indignant squawk.

They board the van to everyone else's impatient jeering.

"I was just joking," Woohyun tells him as soon as they're alone in their room.

"I know," Sunggyu answers patiently.

"You know I would never abandon you in a burning building, or a shipwreck, or a deserted island," Woohyun insists. "It was all for the show."

Sunggyu rolls his eyes. "Like I just said, I know." It's the typical Woohyun defense mechanism cycle: admit an uncomfortable opinion, laugh it off, reiterate the opinion in different forms, talk to the person and insist that it was a joke. And the thing is, to Woohyun it is just a joke. Mostly.

But some jokes have to be taken seriously.

"The kids listen to you as much as they listen to me," Sunggyu says offhand as he peels his shirt off and tosses it to the laundry hamper. The clothes are piling up. He should delegate. Or appoint someone. Or if he waits another two days, Sungyeol seems due for another screw up... "And you kept the group together just fine when I was promoting."

"That was borrowed authority, though." Woohyun's shirt gets tossed atop the pile, followed by pants and smelly socks. Sunggyu very carefully doesn't turn around. Some locks are easy to pick, some relapses are easy to trigger. "Everyone was just putting up with me until you came back."

"Stop selling yourself short."

"But it's true! I'd tell them to do something and they'd laugh at me right away."

"They do that all the time," Sunggyu points out. "You laugh the hardest."

"But we follow you anyway." Silence while Woohyun climbs into his favorite (only?) sleeping attire, those ratty cargo shorts and that sleeveless, neckless hoodie. Sunggyu looks at him again only after they're both fully dressed (in a manner of speaking). "Sometimes I wonder how the group would be if I were the leader. As in the real leader, not just a member standing in for you. But I stop wondering fast because I'd never be able to handle the pressure as well as you do. Did you know I had to bribe Hoya to do the groceries? Twice? And I still owe Dongwoo for feeding the kids when my taping ran late that one time."

"Hey, at least you got the job done, that's what counts for a leader. So you'll do just fine," Sunggyu says. He throws himself face down on his bed and relishes the cool of the sheets against his skin. "Although leaders don't get paid extra. Keep that in mind. Now you see why I resort to slave-driving."

A moment of quiet. Sunggyu lifts his head to see Woohyun biting his lip guiltily. "Did I say that last night?"

"Hey, it's no big deal." Sunggyu sits up and pats the space of bed beside him, and Woohyun sits obediently. Good boy. "You were drunk. You've done worse, little boy."

Woohyun snarls at him. "I was this close to apologizing, you ass, thank you for disillusioning me in time." But he slings an arm around Sunggyu's shoulders and pulls tight, and Sunggyu allows himself to breathe deep and return the pressure.

This is one of the concessions he allows himself, one of the moments he doesn't bind and lock. Woohyun hugs like he wants to take all the sadness away from Sunggyu and into himself.

Woohyun's presence could intoxicate him. Woohyun should be illegal, but unfortunately the world doesn't work according to Sunggyu's whims.

"Are we actually having a moment?" Woohyun asks him a little breathlessly. Sunggyu eases the pressure.

"By some miracle, I guess."

Woohyun laughs nervously. The smile on his lips is tentative. Like he's not sure if he should say what's on his mind. But he does, anyway. He's Woohyun. "I kind of miss it." He punches Sunggyu's shoulder lightly. "We stopped having moments some time ago. I don't know why. But I guess it just happens."

Sunggyu has had a lot of practice in keeping his expressions misleading. The one he throws on now is dismissive. "Get some sleep. You're turning sentimental. That's just gross."

Woohyun scowls at him, but he climbs into his bed and throws his comforter over himself. "Thanks for putting up with me, Leader Gyu," he intones from under the covers.

"Go to sleep."

It's easy to find more chains, more locks, more keys to hand to Howon for safekeeping. Over the years, Sunggyu has gotten very good at telling himself no.

"An abandoned warehouse? Are we that low on production budget?"

Sungjong probably doesn't mean it but it elicits knowing groans from almost the rest of the group. Myungsoo is eyeing the building with worry for their safety plainly visible on his face, and Howon has that look he gets when he's telling himself that everything's cool, everything's fine, nothing here to worry about. Woohyun's expression is of being severely unimpressed. Sungyeol's eyes are narrowed.

Dongwoo, on the other hand, lights up with excitement.

"I don't know what everyone's so worried about," Dongwoo says loudly, grinning widely. "We'll be filming in a genuine abandoned warehouse. Can you imagine how bad-ass our image is going to be?"

"I'm sure it's safe. I'm sure they made sure it's safe." That's Myungsoo trying to convince himself.

"Come on," Sunggyu tells everyone gruffly. "Hyoan-hyung's on the phone to rearrange the rest of our schedules, we don't have to wait for him."

"You first, hyung," Woohyun teases.

Sunggyu rolls his eyes and leads the way.

It's not as bad as they think. On one hand, the production team has already cleared out most of the junk, the air is thick with fresheners, glorified tents have been erected to act as changing rooms or rest lounges, and the crew is all over the place. On the other hand, even the industrial air coolers can't do much with all this heat, the team isn't as large as they expect and there's noise everywhere.

"So we'll only be doing the cut sequences here," Sunggyu tells the group when he returns from meeting the director. "We'll still shoot most of the show in the studios where they have some of it set to look trashed but we still need scenes where we're running around trying to shoot each other."

"I guess this means we should get familiar with the place?" Woohyun asks lazily from his beanbag with an innocent smile on his face.

Sunggyu wonders why Woohyun even tries to act innocent these days. Whenever he does, everyone already knows he's already up to no good. "If you're asking for permission to wander of, I'm not giving it to you."

"That's cool," Woohyun says as if it doesn't bother him at all, leans back again and tries to take a nap.

Belatedly, it occurs to Sunggyu to count the members. "Five. Where are-" he narrows his eyes "-six and seven?"

Sungjong glares at him reproachfully. "Sungyeol-hyung and Myungsoo-hyung are out taking pictures," he says as if Sunggyu should have figured it out by himself.

"I really should make it a rule to disallow Myungsoo from bringing that camera everywhere," Sunggyu huffs, irritated. Dongwoo raises his eyebrows. "Not that he'll listen. But it would make me feel better, damn it." He checks his watch. "They'd better be back in ten minutes."

Howon looks up from his DS. "I thought we weren't starting until an hour?" He looks around, lost. "Did anyone change the schedule without telling me again? Come on, guys, I thought our prank days were over." But nobody looks at him.

"Ten minutes," Sunggyu deadpans. Dongwoo, ever the best bandmate, bless him, pulls out his phone. Everybody else goes back to what they were doing.

Woohyun pushes himself up and manhandles Sunggyu out of their tent. "Come on Leader-Gyu, blow off some steam. Let's go look for them ourselves."

"You just want an excuse to wander off," Sunggyu grouses as they walk away from the crowd.

"It's not wandering off if I have the leader with me!"

Well. There's no arguing with logic like that.

Woohyun has this knack for finding deserted rooms even in places where there should be people everywhere. "They're not here," Sunggyu observes flatly when Woohyun pushes him past an empty door arch.

"Your powers for observation never fail to astound me, Gyu." Woohyun leads him to the center of the room and thumps his back rhythmically. "Relax, learn to have fun, stop and appreciate the smell of moldy wood and industrial disinfectant!" Woohyun breathes deep and Sunggyu admires how he plasters a smile on his face, fake and determinedly cheesy though it was. "This place has great ambience, by the way, we should get the designers' contact numbers."

"You're crazy," Sunggyu opines. He pushes Woohyun away and orients himself with... wherever they are. Not that there's much to notice apart from the water damage on the walls or the chipped paint and the rusty pipes running down the corner. The crew clearly had no intentions of shooting here.

Woohyun has his phone in his hands and is basically acting like Myungsoo-lite. "This place is so rustic. How is it that I'm rocking the black and white filter for the first time?" He's taking a forced perspective picture of a rusty chair.

Sunggyu shakes his head sadly. Sometimes, all he can do is wonder why, of all the people in the world, it has to be Woohyun.

Maybe Sunggyu has issues with quality. That could explain things.

A string of spray-painted western letters catches his eye at a far corner of the room. Which is odd because even though the walls are dirty with grime, there isn't actually any evidence of vandalism anywhere else.

It's only when he's closer that he notices the jagged lines drawn on the wall beside the letters. Lines drawn with charcoal. A large rectangle.

Like someone wanted to draw a door.

toque un universo paralelo, the letters say.

Sunggyu may not have mastered English (not that it's in English anyway even if it uses the same characters) but he's read enough books to at least be able to form an educated guess.

This would make a great concept photo.

"Hey Woohyun!" he calls out to where Woohyun is absorbed in framing a shot of a broken light bulb on the floor. "Take a picture of me and this-" but he doesn't get to finish his request because the instant he touches the wall the floor below him collapses and he's falling-

he hears Woohyun call out "Gyu!", alarmed and surprised, no time to be worried-

falling-

the sensation of being strapped to a roller coaster just after it crests the top of an arc, gathering momentum as it plummets down an underground track-

and lands on soft ground-

And when he blinks his vision and feelings clear, he's flat on his back and he feels grass tickling his skin and a tree looms above him like he just fell off one of the branches and it's a lot darker than he-

He struggles to sit up. There are trees everywhere. And there's grass and earth between his fingers, never mind that he fell through the floor of an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the city.

And the sky is littered with way more stars than Sunggyu has ever seen in his life.

He catches a blur of movement from the corner of his eye. He turns his head just in time to see someone who looks eerily like Sungyeol reaching for his forehead, there's a flash of blue light, and-

And after that, Sunggyu doesn't know anything more.

[Next]

The Seventh Guest (2/3) [Infinite]

verocity — Thu, 26 Dec 2013 18:40:13 GMT

"I don't care what he is. He came up from out of nowhere and appeared right inside Sungjong's enchantments, meaning he bypassed our defenses without us knowing any better." Howon's voice pauses, then pitches lower as if daring someone to disagree with him. "Go on, tell me that isn't dangerous."

Sunggyu's eyes are closed, his head feels like it's been filled with cotton, his back is propped against something that feels like rough tree bark, his wrists have been bound, and Howon sounds like he's ultimately pissed off. This is not a good combination of events.

"There's more than one interpretation to that, Howon," Sungjong says. And that's strange, Sunggyu thinks, because Sungjong is speaking so casually; he always calls Howon 'hyung'. "Protective magic isn't straightforward. Not even mine."

Howon snorts. "That's not true and you know it."

"Sungyeol?" Dongwoo's voice this time.

"I stand by what I said," Sungyeol insists. "His mind is human. Even if it's filled with things I've never seen before."

"I'm not doubting that he's human." Howon, hard as it may be to believe, almost always manages to keep his calm through most situations. Hearing him riled up like this is raising so many warning flags in Sunggyu's head. "I'm saying he's a risk and we should deal with him accordingly."

Sunggyu narrowly opens an eye. No matter how many times he complains about his eyes, they can be quite useful for pretending that he's still asleep. It's still dark and the world looks so blurry through his eyelashes but-

"He's awake, by the way," Sungyeol tells the group as an aside. "For a few minutes now."

Damn it why is Sungyeol always paying attention-

"I'll take care of it," Howon says, reaching behind him. Sunggyu opens his eyes fully just in time to watch Howon – in perfect clarity – draw a...

A sword. Really? Sunggyu's mind wonders all by itself in that time-elapsed moment that comes with disbelief. When did this happen? Howon has a sword and nobody bothered to tell me? Garbage duty for three months-

"Howon," Sungjong cautions warily. "Woohyun isn't here. He should at least have a say in this."

Howon raises his sword (is that thing even real? Sunggyu's mind asks him, not feeling the fear that Sunggyu is sure should be flooding him right now). "Tell the leader that I'm calling this an act of personal sovereignty," Howon says grimly.

Leader...? The word echoes in Sunggyu's head.

"Hoya," Sunggyu croaks and there's the fear crawling all over his skin like ants. "What the hell-"

A flicker of surprise crosses Howon's face when he hears his name, but he steels his resolve and tightens his grip on his sword. The blade flashes white and leaves an arc of light as he swings down right at Sunggyu's head-

A feeling of cold wind chilling Sunggyu's entire body at once-

A flash of black even though he's sure he didn't blink-

"No," Myungsoo's voice says from right behind Sunggyu's ear. "Woohyun should have a say in this."

It takes Sunggyu a second to process that he's no longer leaning against rough bark, that it's Myungsoo behind him, Myungsoo's hands gripping his shoulders tightly, and that a humanoid figure made entirely of fire is gripping Howon's sword by the blade an inch away from where Sunggyu's head used to be.

Howon's expression darkens further. Faster than Sunggyu's eyes can follow, Howon draws another sword and slashes through the fire, which disperses and draws a soft wince from Dongwoo. "How do you know that name?" Howon whispers, and if Sunggyu thinks he was pissed off before that's nothing compared to how Howon sounds now. The light from his first sword turns from pale white to burning red.

Sungyeol rises from the rock he's sitting on to stand between Howon and Sunggyu. "I'm with Myungsoo and Dongwoo on this. Let's not be hasty."

"It's three on one, Howon," Dongwoo urges quietly. "Sungjong won't vote against you but you know he doesn't agree with you either. Please listen to us."

They hear footsteps approaching from somewhere in the trees. "What are you guys up to?" a new voice asks with forced pleasantness.

Sunggyu isn't surprised to see who it is, finds that he's been expecting it all this time. After all, everything has gone crazy up to now so why not go crazy all the way?

"We just got infiltrated while you were sleeping," Howon answers.

"We don't know that for sure," Dongwoo adds quickly.

There's still sleep in Woohyun's eyes, but Sunggyu can see the sharpness behind them quickly catching up. "And who's that?" he asks with a nod at Sunggyu.

Everyone shoots quick looks at each other until, eventually, all eyes are on Sungyeol.

"Well?" Woohyun asks impatiently. The way they all carefully keep their expressions blank (especially Sungjong) speaks volumes of second-hand embarrassment to Sunggyu.

"He's human," Sungyeol says after a moment of thought. "That's the best I can say. I can see his mind but it's all strange to me. It's not like anything I've seen before. The shape is human but also definitely not from this world."

Howon snorts derisively and sheathes both his swords. "That doesn't count for anything. Not all humans are on our side these days. He could have been affected. And Sungyeol found him when he was already inside Sungjong's protection."

That wakes Woohyun up fully.

"There's more than one interpretation to that," Sungjong says like he's reminding everyone of something important. "He could have sneaked past my enchantments as Howon thinks, or maybe he's no danger at all so my walls didn't stop him."

"Isn't anyone going to ask what I think?" Sunggyu finally snaps. "Because I woke up in the middle of nowhere and someone just tried to cut my head off. I deserve some context, don't you think?"

Brief silence while everyone looks surprised, followed by Dongwoo trying to contain a snort and Myungsoo chuckling like Sunggyu just made a joke of everyone.

"Oh look, it can speak!" Woohyun teases. "Sungjong, can you make sure he isn't a threat?"

"That's what I was doing," Howon mutters loudly.

"While keeping him intact, I mean," Woohyun clarifies. "No hacking off limbs or anything irreversible."

"I have something that could work," Sungjong says contemplatively.

"Then let's get going," Woohyun says. "It's almost daylight. I don't want to waste an hour fighting about this; we have a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time to do it. Let's pack up camp and make sure no one else managed to sneak up on us, okay?"
Howon rolls his eyes and grumbles as he leaves. Dongwoo jogs to catch up with him, slinging an arm across Howon's back and bowing his head to talk privately.

But Woohyun isn't over yet. "Sungyeol and Myungsoo, the two of you are in charge of this guy – what's your name, anyway?"

"Sunggyu," says Sunggyu. That, at least, settles the question of whether Sunggyu has a counterpart here.

"I can't exactly welcome you aboard yet, Sunggyu," Woohyun says with a wink and Sunggyu wonders why even this Woohyun can be so greasy even at the most inopportune moments. "But we've got our eyes on you so don't cause any trouble."

"Gee, thanks for doing me a favor," Sunggyu sneers.

"Don't thank me, I could still change my mind. Now keep quiet while Sungjong works his magic on you, if you think Howon's hot-headed then Sungjong can show you why we're all more afraid of him."

"Whatever," Sungjong grumbles like Woohyun just embarrassed him. His eyes glow white, mutters a few words beneath his breath, and Sunggyu feels invisible ropes coil tightly all over his body. "The tight feeling will fade in a few minutes. It's a passive pacifism aura," he explains. "Should stop you from attacking anyone. Not that I think you're going to attack us, and not that you're dangerous or anything, but our leader seems to think it's called for."

"Just as a precaution," Woohyun says with a grin. "Now come on, you've wasted enough of our time as it is."

They don't move like Sunggyu's Infinite. That's the first thing Sunggyu notices. Then he reminds himself that they aren't Infinite at all, there's no point in comparing.

But.

The way Woohyun confidently struts at the front, leading the way as if he knows exactly how to get where they need to go with that half-smirk that seems permanently etched on his face. Dongwoo's excited acceptance of everything Woohyun says, approval and support unspoken in everything he does... except that his eyes are set in a sense of quiet guardedness, that slight quirk in his eyebrows that Sunggyu has learned to pay attention to after years of being in each other's confidence.

Myungsoo's presence to his left does not make a single sound and it's so easy to forget that he's there, except that he's Myungsoo and he has a way of catching everyone's attention even if he doesn't do anything for it. And on Sunggyu's other side, Sungyeol, the observer, the watcher, the one who knows everything that's going on, the one who never stops paying attention.

Sungjong is chattering away carelessly at Howon, those two forming a little clique of their own even without meaning to. Howon's approach to life is to focus on one thing at a time and Sungjong loves being attended to, which is a drastic oversimplification of things but it can't be helped because the leather thong is seriously chafing Sunggyu's wrists.

They're people who look like Infinite, but they're not Infinite.

"For people who freak out about getting ambushed earlier, you don't seem so worried about being snuck up on now," Sunggyu says drily.

"It's daytime," Myungsoo answers as if that explains everything. Sungyeol opens his mouth to add more detail but he's cut off by an announcement from the front of the group.

"We're about a day's trek away from the Giltleaf Castle," Woohyun tells them all. Everyone stops in their tracks. "The elves are all dead-"

"Good riddance," Myungsoo mutters under his breath.

"-so the place should be abandoned, but that only means it's no longer elves living there. It could have been infested by other things for all we know. Elven life magic grows unstable without anything to keep it in check."

"Well," Sungjong intones. "That's ominous."

"At least the elves and the fairies hated each other," Sungyeol adds. "Even if the elves are gone, the fairies still won't be able to enter their territory."

"That's one night we can have to sleep, at least." Howon stretches his back like even the thought of peace and quiet can relax him.

"That's the wrong way to think about it," Woohyun chastises him sharply, and Howon tilts his head. "The fairies are dangerous but there could be other dangers. Don't forget what their magic can do."

"How could I forget what their magic can do?" Howon asks coldly. Sungjong lays a calming hand on his shoulders.

The tension in the air is as palpable as it's surprising, Sunggyu can feel the whiplash of the sudden change of mood. Howon looks like he's ready to draw swords again and the only thing stopping him is Sungjong's quiet request for calm, whereas Woohyun looks like he wants to backtrack his words but there's this little thing called pride which isn't so little because it's Woohyun's.

Loud clapping from the side. "Come on, that's still a day away!" Dongwoo grins like he doesn't have a care in the world. "Let's worry about what we'll find there when we're actually there. Okay?"

"I'm fine with that," Sungjong agrees immediately. Peacemaker. Myungsoo nods right after.

"You'll have each other's backs, though," Sunggyu says, and everyone turns to look surprised at him. Leadership, like any other habit, can be so ingrained that it becomes second nature. "Even if it's dangerous. That's why you're a group. Right?"

Nobody answers him, but Woohyun's looking at him fondly and Dongwoo is deep in thought. Sungjong flashes Sunggyu a brief smile. Small victories at first.

They resume walking, but Sungjong's chatter is more subdued and Woohyun isn't talking anymore. Amazing how much can change in a single moment.

"We're entering elven territory," Sungyeol explains from out of the blue. "They... didn't leave happy memories behind. They weren't as bad as the fairies, but they were close enough."

"I guessed as much," Sunggyu says, glad that someone's finally speaking to him.

"Even the demons didn't give us this much trouble," Myungsoo adds. Sungyeol looks surprised that Myungsoo is apparently capable of speaking more than two words at a time.

Sunggyu looks around them to see if anyone else is listening. Not that he's hiding their conversation. Except that Sungyeol and Myungsoo have both been so quiet since they found him, have both been by themselves and now that they're talking Sunggyu doesn't really want any of the louder ones steamrolling all over the conversation. "What happened to the elves?"

Myungsoo's expression darkens visibly. Exactly like the one back home. "The fairies happened," Myungsoo tells him. "The fairies happened to everyone. The elves were just among the first they got to. It was. Brutal."

"The elves were good enough in keeping fairies away," says Sungyeol. "But fairy magic works differently from how any of us thought magic could ever be used. None of the tribes knew what to expect. By the time we humans found out how to fight back, it was too late. The elves had fallen, not that we minded that because the elves were also pretty bad. But the kithkin? They were a big loss. And the kor, they were useful. Their aura magic was unique."

Myungsoo looks thoughtful at that. "I think Sungjong managed to learn a few things from them, though. I know some of his auras aren't human-made."

Sunggyu has no idea what Sungyeol is referring to for most of that speech. Kithkin? Kor? Aura magic? "I always thought elves were nice. Where I'm from, elves... well, nobody really believes in elves anymore, but the stories always showed them as- I don't know, beautiful? Allies to humans, at least." The truth is that the only exposure Sunggyu has to elves is watching Lord of the Rings. Arwen is very pretty and Legolas is kind of cool, and that's pretty much all Sunggyu knows about them.

"I'm not surprised about that." Sungyeol sniffs disdainfully. "Elves and their glamour. The world's better off without them."

Myungsoo's laughter is cynical. And yeah, it sounds like Sunggyu's Myungsoo, too. "At least when a demon screws you over, they don't mess with your mind so you think it's for your own good."

"I'll take demons over elves," Sungyeol says softly. Myungsoo solemnly nods. "But I'll take elves over fairies anytime. I'll take anything over fairies."

His fear is catching. One of the things Sunggyu trained himself to do during their earlier days is to pay close attention Sungyeol. The others, even Myungsoo, were very open with saying what they wanted to say, even when Sunggyu wasn't ready to hear it. But not Sungyeol.

It grated Sunggyu's nerves at first, how Sungyeol could pretend to be so open to everyone without ever really saying important things. By the time Sunggyu learned to accept it, they'd already defined their relationship as each other's least favorite person.

But Sungyeol always pays attention, always knows what's going on even if he never says a thing.

It was a while before Sunggyu learned to trust someone who didn't tell him everything.

And if the small things about Infinite are true about the people Sunggyu finds himself with now, maybe the bigger things are as well.

Which can only mean one thing: the fairies, whatever they are, must be very bad.

They stop abruptly when Woohyun raises a fist. Howon and Sungjong draw their swords without saying a word, no trace of their earlier lightheartedness anywhere. Sunggyu just wishes his hands are free.

"Blood in the air," Woohyun says, scrunching his nose. "Sungyeol?"

"I don't sense anything strange." Sungyeol's eyes are glowing blue. "Just... typical forest creatures. No other mind in the area, just ours."

Woohyun's acknowledgement is terse. "We should be safe, sunset is still several hours away."

"Still better to proceed with caution," is Dongwoo's advice. "Is it human blood?"

"I can't tell, my nose isn't that sharp. We can just ignore it; it's not directly in our way."

"Or we can check if there are any survivors," Sungjong says quietly. But they all know Sungjong means something else. Sungyeol already confirmed that there's nobody alive.

Woohyun is quiet for a while, watching a tree blankly as he makes a decision.

"Myungsoo, watch over Sunggyu," he orders. "The rest of us, we look for anyone who needs whatever help we can give."

The last thing Sunggyu hears is Howon muttering something like 'should have brought a shovel'.

"I've got you, don't worry," Myungsoo tells Sunggyu bracingly. "Sungyeol's mind magic is excellent for scouting. But I'm still more than enough to make sure we're safe."

Sunggyu stares at him. "I thought you're supposed to keep me in check, not to act as my bodyguard."

Myungsoo blinks twice then realizes that Sunggyu is right. "Well. That's true. But Sungjong's magic is keeping you bound anyway so I might as well make sure you don't get hurt, right?"

"Can you tell me what's happening?" Sunggyu asks. He leans against a tree with smooth bark and slides down to sit on the ground. Myungsoo sits beside him. "Sungyeol just said there isn't anyone else alive here. So why bother checking?"

"Sungyeol can find minds," Myungsoo clarifies, "but he can't necessarily detect life. So you're probably right that there's nobody there to save. But. See, fairies don't always kill people. There's space between being alive and having a functional mind. And fairies have very specific methods for destroying only what they don't want. Sometimes they have reasons for keeping bodies alive."

That's some horror right there. "So when Woohyun said help, he means..."

Myungsoo is a master of keeping his expression blank. "He means whatever help they can give."

Sunggyu shivers. Myungsoo bumps his fist lightly against Sunggyu's knee. If this were Infinite's Myungsoo there would already be hugging and warmth-leeching going on, but the difference in action is only in intensity: this Myungsoo still needs contact, no matter how brief, to remind himself (or maybe both of them) that there is still humanity around, even if it's just in them.

"Why are you guys so scared of the night?" Sunggyu asks to lead his mind elsewhere, and hey he might as well find answers to a few things. "I mean, is it vampires? Are vampires a thing in this world?"

"Vampires!" It draws a laugh from Myungsoo like it's the best joke he's hear d in a while. "Come on, everybody knows vampires don't exist anymore. We killed the last bloodchief years ago. Sungjong doesn't want to talk about it but it was his magic that made it all even possible. Vampires aren't really that strong but they can stick to life like damn."

"Wow. Really? Sungjongie?"

Myungsoo glances quizzically at him. "Sungjongie?" he repeats.

"Oh. Haha." Sunggyu bows his head, embarrassed. "That's what I call him. Where I'm from."

"Wait." Myungsoo's expression grows serious. "You know him? He exists in your world?"

"Yeah. All of you, actually." Sunggyu supposes that the flood of nostalgia is expected, the wave of missing everyone back home even if he hasn't even been gone for a day, even if there are versions of them around him, even Myungsoo and his stupid face. "We all live together. I'm the oldest and Sungjong is the youngest, so everyone bullies the two of us."

"Sungjong gets bullied?" Myungsoo asks, humor and disbelief dawning on every line of his face. "Sungjong? As in hero-of-the-vampire-wars Sungjong?"

"Well. He hasn't been in any war in my world," Sunggyu says delicately. "But he's a pretty tough guy even there."

"I guess some things are constant across worlds," Myungsoo sniffs. "What about me? What am I like in your world?"

"Still as vain as you are here," Sunggyu teases and Myungsoo grins readily. Sunggyu bumps his shoulders against Myungsoo's, a severe toning down of the hair ruffling Sunggyu normally gives their vainest member, dragged by the momentum of half a decade of habits before he realizes that maybe this Myungsoo- but Myungsoo is surprised yet smiling, not affronted at all. Maybe all the Myungsoos everywhere communicate best through physical contact. "There's no point in comparing. The two of you are different. We even call you different names. My Myungsoo goes by 'L' because of our job."

"'L'?" Myungsoo asks, brow furrowed. "That's strange. I used to be known as L in this world, too. Sometimes Howon still calls me that but I just ignore him. I'm not that person anymore."

"Who was L, then?" Sunggyu asks, curious about how worlds still seem to intersect despite the sheer fundamental differences that keep them apart.

"L is just me in the past," Myungsoo says dismissively. "That was how Howon and I met. I guess he still hasn't fully adjusted to the fact that I'm a different person now."

"He doesn't seem mad at you," Sunggyu offers. "It looks like he's more concerned with Sungjong than he is of you. If he's anything like my Howon, he's a lot more open to change than he lets on."

"Yeah, change," Myungsoo sighs wistfully. He reaches behind Sunggyu and plucks a wildflower from its stem, a tiny purple thing of spindly petals that look ubiquitous everywhere. Forest weeds, something that won't look out of place even in Sunggyu's world. "People used to like having flowers everywhere. Gardens back in my village used to be so colorful. But flowers are important for fairies to breed in so everyone sanitized their gardens and kept only the plants that fairies don't use. Now they all look so plain. It's sad, I like flowers a lot."

"So why did you pick this one?" Sunggyu asks, more for conversation than actual curiosity. His Myungsoo is always full of ideas that only Sungyeol gets to hear, but maybe this is Sunggyu's chance in more than a few ways. Myungsoo, self-taught in many secret talents, has insights ranging from naïve to piercing.

"Flowers die when you pick them," Myungsoo says solemnly. He breathes at the sprig in his hand until it withers and grays right in front of Sunggyu's eyes. "So what if I like dead things more?"

Not that that's creepy or anything, but he's heard Myungsoo say weirder things.

Whatever the rest leave to investigate must not have been so perplexing. "You guys ready to go?" Woohyun asks as soon as they return.

"What did you guys find?" Sunggyu asks. But he knows that if the group is going to keep secrets, the weak link will never be Woohyun. Instead, he pays close attention to Dongwoo. "Anything good?"

And it's in the way Dongwoo's face crumples before he fakes his cheer that Sunggyu understands he probably shouldn't dig any deeper. "Just evidence of fairies being fairies," he says breezily. Sunggyu isn't fooled. Another intersection between worlds: Dongwoo is too honest to ever deceive anyone, even if he wants to.

Everyone else looks so decidedly neutral. But there's no fooling a leader who has been relying on group dynamics to keep his members in line.

They can see the castle from where they stop, just half an hour's walk away. The towers are painted red with oncoming sunset light but the crenellations glitter too brightly to be normal.

"The Giltleaf Elves could make trees grow golden leaves, and they used the gold to adorn almost everything they could think of," Woohyun tells Sunggyu academically. "That castle was the elves' last stronghold. It's overflowing with elven enchantments specifically designed to keep fairies away. The lives of elves are long but their memories are longer. Even after their death, their magic doesn't desert their homes."

"So how did they die?" Sunggyu asks. It's no longer just academic interest this time. He may have a lot of shortcomings but not being able to accept new realities is not one of them.

They freed Sunggyu's hands back when they accepted that maybe he's kind of harmless after all.

"They withstood the fairy sieges long enough," Sungjong joins the discussion while everyone else rests aching feet. "Magic kept the fairies away. And what elven magic failed to repel their bows and arrows dispatched swiftly."

"It didn't last long, though," Woohyun added. "The impasse stood for a week, I think?" Sungjong nodded. "Then the fairies changed the game."

"The Great Aurora," Sungjong tells him grimly. "The spell that removes any peaceful instinct in non-fairies. As a tribe, the fairies learned how to live on the natural magic that the land produces. Every other tribe – even us – could draw power from the earth and use it to cast spells but the fairies are the only ones who ever managed to tune their mana with the land itself. Imagine it. A single tribe that can tame all of magic. That development allowed them to change the nature of every single creature in the world."

"The elves never knew what hit them," Woohyun says darkly. "One day they were united in their castle, defending their ground flawlessly. Then the fairies cast their spell and suddenly the elves were killing each other right within their own stronghold. In the end, the fairies didn't have to kill them. That's what happened to a lot of the tribes. And the fairies would have taken over everything if the human council hadn't managed to stop the spell from spreading using the Veil."

"Veil?" Sunggyu asks.

Woohyun waved Sunggyu's question away as if the name didn't mean anything. "Massive barrier spell that stops fairy magic from spreading even if it doesn't actually keep the fairies in. It's a hallmark of great magic if you want to look at it that way: the fairies have their Great Aurora, we have the Veil. Some of the Aurora still leaks into the surrounding area, though, but it's weak enough that it dispels during the day.

"So this is the new impasse. The world is separated into three zones: there's the world outside the Great Aurora where all the tribes are creating their own vaccines against fairy changeling magic. Then there's the area we're in now where the council's magic rules during the day but fairy magic takes over every night. And there's the Glen Elendra, the fairies' home, where their magic is at its strongest night and day."

"The fairies didn't kill all the tribes their magic caught, though," Sungjong whispers with a tiny shiver in his voice. "Once some of the tribes were weakened, the fairies enslaved them. And every night the Aurora turns those survivors into minions of the fairies themselves." He looks around them to make sure no one is listening in, relaxes when he sees Howon far away, laughing animatedly with Dongwoo as they relax aching feet. "The council wasn't able to save Howon's village. The only reason he survived is because we were hunting rabid werewolves outside the Aurora when it happened. So if you think he's full of anger... just know that there's a reason behind it. He's a lot less vengeful now, thankfully, but there's still a lot to work through. I think learning some of my magic did wonders for his peace of mind."

They hear shuffling footsteps approach and they turn to see Sungyeol draw level with them, his face tilted upward to catch the last rays of the sun. "What's the plan now, great leader?"

Woohyun's expression turns serious. "Let's set up camp here. I know the Giltleaf Castle looks inviting but that place is lousy with the elves' memories. There's no telling what we'll run into. I mean, the elves didn't hate us as much as they hated the fairies, that's true, but elves were still a vicious tribe over all. I don't want to have traveled this far only to be killed in my sleep by persistent nightmares."

"That makes sense," Sungjong says. "I'll cast the walls now. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Walls?" Sunggyu asks. So many new things to understand in this world, so many familiar words that don't make sense in context.

"Sungjong specializes in protection," Sungyeol says. "He can defend entire areas by surrounding them with walls of magic. Sort of like smaller versions of the Veil. So far, you're the only one who ever managed to breach his defenses."

"Which is why everyone was so alarmed when you showed up," Woohyun adds with his wolfish grin. "Sungjong didn't look too disturbed but I know deep inside he's berating himself to find out what he overlooked. But you're not from this world anyway so you're covered by different rules."

"Myungsoo and I will keep first watch tonight," Dongwoo volunteers when they reconvene. He stomps lightly on the ground and a flaming hedgehog takes shape, waddling over to one of Hoya's stacks of dried wood.

"Sungjong and I will take second watch then," says Hoya.

"And I guess that leaves us with the tail end," Woohyun says, elbowing Sungyeol lightly.

"The night is always darkest before sunrise," Sungyeol mutters ominously.

"You are such a cheerful ray of sunlight, Sungyeol," Dongwoo teases. "I'm glad you're part of the team."

"The Glen is a day's travel away from here," Woohyun reminds them and their humor sobers quickly. "So everyone eat well, rest well. We're practically right outside enemy territory."

"I know what that means," Howon says as he unfolds the square of cloth he sleeps on. "The sooner we reach them, the sooner we can kill them all."

Myungsoo sighs, soft enough for only Sunggyu to hear. "It's nice to know that everyone's so calm."

Sunggyu feels like he's only gotten a single wink of sleep when he wakes up to frantic screaming.

"Prowlers!" Sungyeol is yelling. "They were waiting underground right inside the barriers!"

There's something to be said about how Howon is snoring deeply one moment, then barely a second later he's alert, wielding his twin gladii and completely ready to cause havoc. Sungjong scrambles awake beside him, his own broadsword drawn with both hands. "Armor spells!" he yells, which Howon acknowledges with a quick grunt. Both of them glow golden white at the same time, every inch of their body covered in weak light.

Sunggyu can hear it over the rush of blood in his ears, the rapid pounding in his chest. The low buzz of hundreds of pairs of wings disturbing the air.

"Wake up, goddammit!" Sunggyu shouts as he shakes Dongwoo's and Myungsoo's shoulders hard.

"Bwuh?"

"Mmfgl?"

Howon twirls his swords to awaken his grip. "Where's Woohyun?"

"Buying us time." Sungyeol kneels beside Myungsoo and slaps him not-so-gently in the face.

"Ow! What the-"

"Sunggyu," Sungjong calls, and Sunggyu rushes to him. "Stay out of the way, don't do any fighting even if it's to help." He presses his palm against Sunggyu's forehead and Sunggyu feels warmth cover him all over. "Spirit armor. Some protection but not much. And I removed my pacifism enchantment so you can defend yourself if you have to. Stay out of the way and don't grab any attention for yourself. Leave this fight to us."

"Stay with me," Woohyun says, dropping from a tree branch above. "But Sungjong's right. Leave the fighting to us." He slams both fists against the ground. The air ripples around them, fills with sparkles of green light, and when the flashes fade Sunggyu finds himself surrounded by wolves. Woohyun emerges with an armor of reinforced tree bark.

From a short distance away come the sound of vines and leaves being ripped apart.

"They're here," Dongwoo says flatly. His entire body is wreathed in flame.

"We were here first," Myungsoo answers. Of all of them, he's the only one who hasn't donned armor.

Nobody else is alarmed, though even if Sunggyu knows none of them are helpless he still can't stop himself from worrying. "Woohyun, will he-"

But it's Sungyeol who answers from deep inside his cloak of mist. "Just watch."

They're larger than Sunggyu expects. And they're nowhere near the fairies that manhwa and anime have led Sunggyu to believe, not gentle-faced people with insect wings growing from their backs.

The creatures that swarmed them were the size of seagulls, each one in shades of blue and black that made them harder to see in the night even with Dongwoo's flame and the soft glow of Sungjong's and Howon's auras. They were humanoid, that much Sunggyu could say, deformed little monsters with skin of rotting wood, miniature monsters that flitted and buzzed between them with the agility of hummingbirds. Their eyes glinted black and they carried sharpened twigs which they wielded like rapiers.

Sunggyu felt Sungyeol shiver beside him.

Howon slashed faster than Sunggyu's eyes could follow, one flawless move that cut clean through two fairies, lifeless bodies falling heavily to the ground. But the swing was blocked by a third fairy, Howon's sword bouncing off the enchanted twig with the sound of steel hitting steel, but before the fairy could flit away Sungjong cleaves it in half from behind. And soon both swordsmen have jumped into the fray, their blades flying through the swarm, trailing arcs of light, one golden, two red, and littering the forest floor with twitching wings and leaves.

The firelight flashes brighter as Dongwoo explodes, burning to ash those that flitted too close. When the flame dies down large owls made of pure fire fly through the night hunting down those fairies that flew high, while anything that stayed low were mauled by Woohyun's wolves.

But it's Myungsoo who's winning this fight, Myungsoo and his uncovered skin, his bare arms outstretched like he's inviting the fairies to sting like mosquitoes. But nothing can come near. Whenever a fairy tries, or whenever one flies away from the reach of Howon's and Sungjong's swords, or dodges too fast for Dongwoo's living fire, or jerks away from Woohyun's wolves, tendrils of Myungsoo's shadow leap from the ground to wrap around delicate bodies and crush them to death like flies.

If there's one thing Sunggyu is glad of right now, it's that these fairies are incapable of making sound.

"You're winning without much effort," Sunggyu tells Sungyeol. "Why is everyone so afraid of fairies when they can't even hurt you?"

"This is just an advance scout," Sungyeol explains. A fairy lunges for them but freezes solid the moment it touches Sungyeol's mist. The body falls and shatters loudly on the ground. "These fairies that they're killing are fungible. There's a different kind of fairy keeping out of harm's way whose mission is to watch us all and return alive with the memories. All it needs to do is to reach the queen with memories of how we fight, and then the queen will disperse the knowledge to all her minions. That's why we're only using basic spells; we don't want them to see anything advanced. I'm looking for that watcher fairy using the forest creatures' eyes."

Sungyeol turns his head to the right like he's listening for a sound from far away. "Found it. Woohyun, cover me."

"Got it," Woohyun says with a grimace. A shimmer of green light resolves into a gigantic spider that shoots nets made of sticky silk. He swats at a fairy that tried to stab his face, the hardened bark around his hand bats the light body straight into a tree trunk.

Sungyeol's eyes glow icy blue, drops of tears pool at the bottom of each, but instead of falling they float in the air. Each drop glows and grows and ripples all over until it takes the shape of monsters from the deep, but in each one Sunggyu can see scenes of the day before. Phantasms floating in the air made of Sungyeol's mind and powered by his memories.

The phantasms, not encumbered by mass or air, glide faster than any fairy can follow.

But something's wrong.

The fairies start to swarm faster. Woohyun's team is burning and cutting down fewer and fewer by the second.

"They're up to something!" Sungjong yells like nobody else noticed.

The fairies, as one, swarm away. And without the flying and the buzzing to distract them, Sunggyu and this band of men noctice tremors rumbling through the ground. The unmistakable shake in the earth as something large and heavy approaches at great speed.

"Well, this can't be good," Myungsoo notes faintly.

Primal roars fill the night. Three monsters bellowing at the same time.

"Leatherback behemoths!" Woohyun, their beast master, yells. He disperses his wolves; some fights can't be won by numbers.

"Knowing the name definitely makes them easier to kill!" Howon manages to snap.

"I'll take on one," Sungjong says tersely.

"You got it," Dongwoo says. "I'll take another."

"Don't kill them," Woohyun retorts, "they're very rare, we can't-"

"Not the time, Woohyun!" Sunggyu yells.

And behemoths clear the last line of trees, each one as large as a truck and all of them running at full speed. Each head is framed by pointed horns as large as Sunggyu. And Woohyun doesn't want these killed?

Sungjong stabs his sword into the ground as soon as he catches sight of one of the creatures. White light explodes from the buried edge and takes the shape of an enormous specter the size of an oak tree, its white robes and fading like fine mist. It grabs the horns of a charging behemoth and wrestles the monster to a standing stop. Hoya darts forward and climbs the beast with a series of agile jumps.

The second behemoth butts heads with a mirror image of itself made of shimmering fire. Dongwoo raises his hands in command and his fire owls merge with the image of the beast he created. It grows twice in size and tosses the leatherback behemoth to its side.

"No, don't-" Woohyun begs, but Dongwoo ignores him. The fire beast lunges.

Sunggyu turns away from the carnage, but there isn't anything he can do about the sound and the smell.

"I'm sorry," Dongwoo says softly. There's heartbreak in his voice. "I'm sorry."

The third beast is nowhere to be found.

"What?" Myungsoo asks when Sunggyu looks at him. "Its hide was tough but it had very little resistance to magic. I didn't even break a sweat."

A much weaker rumble from the ground as Sungjong's specter throws its monster down and Woohyun runs to it immediately. An instant later, Sungyeol's body reanimates. "What did I miss?"

"Did you catch the watcher?" Sunggyu asks right away.

"Yeah. Found it when it buzzed by a raccoon. It had a bit more fight than I expected," Sungyeol says with a giddy laugh. "But yeah. Killed it but it broke one of my phantasms. That's a memory I'm never getting back."

But now that Sungyeol is safe, they head toward where the rest of the group is huddled beside the fallen behemoth, this time bound immobile by a length of glowing golden white chain. Howon's doing, no doubt, even if it is Sungjong's magic.

"Looks like you guys had some trouble," Sungyeol notes.

"Please, the swarm took more effort to take down," Myungsoo answers him indignantly. He plucks a crumpled flower caught on the rough hide of the behemoth's head. And like before, his breath wilts the sprig in his fingers.

"Their minds are broken," Woohyun says, his voice adorned with loss. "Fairy toxin. That's the only way I can think of. That's why Sungyeol didn't sense them nearby. But I don't know how they took control of the bodies. No toxin can control and berserk anything at the same time."

"The fairies acted smart, though," is Sungyeol's opinion. "They waited until I was gone before they sent the behemoths in. If their minds were already broken I could have taken control over the bodies more easily, fairy toxin or not."

"Anyone hurt?" Sungjong asks. Nobody minds him, which Sunggyu supposes is a good thing.

"I think we handled that pretty well," Howon says, basking in the rush.

"Sunggyu?" Dongwoo sidles up to him. "You still okay?"

"I'm made of sterner stuff," Sunggyu scolds him. But then the tension surges belatedly and he collapses to the floor. "I just wish my knees were, too," which for some reason causes Myungsoo to break up laughing.

"Strange, though," Woohyun says in his thoughtful voice. "Leatherback behemoths usually travel in packs of at least ten."

Everyone follows this announcement with a blink of dawning comprehension.

A quick flash of movement from the corner of Sunggyu's vision. Sungyeol's whole body shudders, and before any of them can grab him he collapses to the ground in an unmoving heap. Hoya's sword arcs in the air and slices through an unfamiliar black and yellow fairy that was hiding inside the behemoth's ear.

Sticking out of Sungyeol's solar plexus is a horribly familiar twig. Myungsoo's shadow plucks it off right away.

And then a much louder roar from not so far away.

Followed by the start of a very familiar buzz in the air.

"Shit," Myungsoo expresses eloquently.

"I knew that was too easy," Dongwoo grumbles.

"Run!" Woohyun commands even as he throws Sungyeol over his shoulder. "Head for the castle!"

"But elf magic-"

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE, RUN!"

Sunggyu thinks it's nice to know that even this Infinite has a level of synchronicity to be proud of. Moving as one, they turned on their heels and ran.

"It's no use," Sungjong manages to pant. "Elven magic will keep the fairies away. But not the behemoths."

"I'll take care of it," Myungsoo volunteers.

At the very least, Sunggyu has enough control over his disbelief to keep on running. "Are you fucking crazy, Kim Myungsoo?!"

Fortunately, Myungsoo ignores or doesn't hear the 'Kim' before his name. "See you at the castle," he calls out before diverting his momentum and jumping up to land on a tree branch. He's gone from sight too quickly.

"He can handle this," Howon huffs. "L is sharing his body with a demon and together they have a lot of power."

Sunggyu decides he must have heard that incorrectly, mainly because if something as absurd as that were true then surely someone must have told him by now, right? Or if they didn't have complete faith in Myungsoo then at least one other person would have stopped and insisted on facing this as a team.

But everyone keeps on running. And Sunggyu runs along with them.

The elven castle's doorway doesn't so much 'loom before them' as 'flash past in a blur of unimportant architecture'.

Sunggyu doesn't get to enjoy the construction. Not that there's enough light to see anything by, not that they have time to stop to admire the view, not that any of them are in the right mindset for a quick moment of introspection.

The shadows are still, but they're deep and they're everywhere.

Dongwoo conjures a flame servant to lead the way.

"They've stopped following us," Howon yells as Sungjong bashes through a door and they pour into a gigantic room lit faintly by moonlight flowing in delicately through cracked windows. There are shapes in the dark, but they don't move and that's good enough for now. "Whatever L did, it worked."

"Then this is far enough," Woohyun huffs. He sets Sungyeol down carefully on the floor and kneels quickly beside him. The flame servant disappears in a puff of smoke, plunging them in near-opaque darkness, when Dongwoo keels over to catch his breath.

Sunggyu looks frantically around them. "Where's Myungsoo-"

"I'm here." A patch of shadow detaches from the wall and turns into Myungsoo in the blink of an eye. He's breathless and covered in streaks of black all over his body but his gait is stable and he doesn't look pained. "Not my blood," he says when he sees what Sunggyu is looking at. "They. Almost got me. But I was able to tap into L's power just in time."

Blood, Sunggyu learns then, glistens black in the moonlight.

Woohyun is trying to give out orders. "Myungsoo, I need you to look for a smaller room-"

Myungsoo blinks blankly at him. "What-"

Woohyun looks like he's on the verge of crying. Exhaustion. Disbelief. Sungyeol's weak breathing. And now Myungsoo is in shock when he sees the rotting flesh around Sungyeol's wound, pale skin turned even paler in the weak silver light. "You can't be tired, not now," Woohyun says, half snarling, half growling in command. And he would have been believable too, had his voice not broken and nobody's doing anything.

And something in Sunggyu snaps. "Pull yourself together!" Sunggyu barks. Myungsoo focuses on him, eyebrows furrowed in surprise. "Now is not the time to sit down, not when we still need you. Get your ass in shape and find us a place that's easier to defend."

Maybe it's the sheer novelty of hearing orders from Sunggyu instead, or maybe half a decade of giving orders also gave Sunggyu a semblance of magic of his own, some way to make himself heard if not by everyone then at least by these six men. Whatever it is, Myungsoo's eyes regain focus and he nods gamely, fades into the shadows once more.

Sunggyu moves on. "Sungjong, your defensive magic is the strongest, make-"

"No, I need him," Woohyun interrupts frantically. There's a faint green glow around his hands. He's pressing one against Sungyeol's wound, the other against Sungyeol's head. "His magic can heal more than mine can."

Sunggyu glares at Sungjong. "You heard him, get to it." Sungjong rushes to Woohyun's side. White and green mana mix and weave over the gash across Sungyeol's chest. Woohyun's hands are trembling in worry but Sungjong steadies him. That's good enough for now. Sunggyu turns to the last mage, who's still collapsed on the floor and trying not to heave. "Dongwoo-"

But warm, bright light almost blinds them all before Sunggyu finishes his request. Not one of Dongwoo's living flames; Howon had drawn one of his swords and the blade is wreathed in fire. "I'm not completely useless, you know," Howon teases weakly.

That's Howon for you.

But there's time for idle appreciation later, Sunggyu thinks. "Woohyun? Sungjong?"

"His wound is healing too slowly," Sungjong whispers tersely. "I've stopped his muscles from rotting but our magic can't seem to-"

"It's fairy magic." Woohyun speaks like he's about to pronounce Sungyeol dead. "They left a leaf from one of their swords in his body. That's all it takes. That's-"

"Shut up!" Sunggyu snaps again. "We're not giving up on him. If you are, then don't get in our way."

Woohyun glares at him, but it's not the first time Sunggyu is on the receiving end of that expression. "I'm not giving up on anyone."

"Good," Sunggyu sneers. "Sungjong?"

"I can-" Sungjong runs frenzied hands against his hair, grips the back of his head hard as if squeezing in all the ideas he can find. "Regenerate him. Maybe. Fairy magic rots human flesh but it takes time. I can come up with a regeneration aura that works quickly enough to-"

"That won't solve the real problem," Howon interrupts him. "Outrunning the rot won't fix him, and as long as that leaf is there then he's lost."

"Then we take the leaf out."

"Easier said than done." Dongwoo joins them, rubbing the back of his hand against his lips like he's trying to clear the taste of bile. "We're all human here. None of us can touch that leaf."

A quick flash of green – too small to cause alarm but bright enough to add some color to the shadows – catches everyone's attention. Woohyun uncurls his fist and something iridescent flutters from his palm to land on Sungyeol's wound.

A beetle. About the size of Sunggyu's fist.

"Good thing he can't say anything, huh?" Woohyun grins weakly. "Can you imagine how much whining we'll have to put up with otherwise?"

The beetle burrows into Sungyeol's body, forces its way into the wound until Sunggyu sees nothing more of it but a raised lump of flesh. Squirming. Sunggyu tries very hard not to imagine things.

Everyone else seems to be thinking along the same lines. Dongwoo excuses himself to retch once again in a corner while Sungjong watches completely horrified. Sunggyu hears a patch of darker shadow beside him squeak, sees it quiver as if someone just cringed.

"If you ever have to save my life," Howon tells Woohyun after swallowing loudly, "I just want you to know that you're not obliged to."

The beetle emerges with a loud squelch, covered in blood and carrying a ragged leaf in its mandibles. It sets the leaf on the floor beside Sungyeol and vanishes in another flash of green light.

"Nobody touch that," Woohyun says as if anybody needed the reminder. "Dongwoo?"

Dongwoo nods, still visibly queasy when he returns. "I got it." A small spark leaps from the snap of his fingers. It turns into a butterfly made entirely of fire that flutters lazily to the floor. The leaf burns quickly.

But Sunggyu is paying more attention to how Sungjong and Woohyun are so fixated on Sungyeol's wound again, how the rotted flesh is turning pale once more to match the rest of the body, how the skin is knitting over the gash and soon it's easy to believe that there wasn't anything there at all.

"That should do for now," Woohyun says, wiping sweat away from his forehead. He and Sungjong sit back, the latter in acknowledgment that this is the best they can do at the moment and the former looking worn. But Sunggyu knows that relief is there somewhere, buried beneath convincing himself that everything's going to be alright after all. "He'll wake up when he's ready."

"We should find somewhere safer." Howon looks at Sunggyu and raises his eyebrows as if to ask for his opinions. "This place is too large to defend ourselves properly. And even Sungjong needs to rest his magic at least for a night."

Sungjong bristles. Subtle, but he doesn't like what he just heard. "Howon, I'm-" but he quiets when they catch each other's eyes.

Sunggyu nods. He looks at the patch of displaced dark lingering on the floor beside him. "Did you find a place?"

Myungsoo rises in the blink of an eye to everyone else's surprise, as if they'd forgotten that Myungsoo was with them at all. "There are lots of rooms nearby, most of them lousy with rotten elf magic. But I found one where the magic is thinner three floors up from here. I cleared away the residual spells. It should be good for us."

He looks at Sunggyu. They all look at Sunggyu, and he's so used to it that it takes a moment for him to remember something crucial, only remembers it when he catches Dongwoo's eyes. "What do you think, Woohyun?"

And Woohyun startles, remembers belatedly that oh yeah he's supposed to be leading them. "I think it's good enough. Come on, everyone."

Dongwoo conjures a wolf to lead the way. Howon sheathes his sword now that there's another source of light and helps Sungjong heave Sungyeol on Woohyun's back.

"Good job," Sunggyu tells Myungsoo, who looks surprised to hear it. "But you don't have to keep hiding until we look for you. We need to know you're safe. Okay?"

Myungsoo smiling sincerely is always a memory to treasure.

[Next]

The Seventh Guest (3/3) [Infinite]

verocity — Thu, 26 Dec 2013 18:38:45 GMT

The room that Myungsoo leads them to is barely the size of the dorm's living room back home, which they find only after getting lost in twisting hallways. The walls are still whole and there's a window for them to breathe fresh air, and maybe all in all these translate to security somehow. They drape some black cloth they found downstairs against the window so their firelight doesn't shine through. It never pays to advertise where they are.

Dongwoo whistles contentedly. "It's almost daybreak anyway. We'll be safe once the sun is up."

Woohyun gently settles Sungyeol at one of the corners.

"Best not leave anything to chance, the fairies can still come up with something before they have to retreat." Sungjong mutters after some thought. "I feel safe but I'll feel safer if I put some protective enchantments on the way here. And I still have bit of extra mana, anyway. We don't want anyone sneaking up on us, do we?"

"I'll come with you," Howon says automatically, but Sungjong shakes his head confidently.

"I won't take long. It'll just be the usual spells to block the stairwells and the hallways. Save me some food." Sungjong draws his sword, mutters a short verse and the blade glows white, not as brightly as during the earlier fight did but definitely enough for him to see by. They hear his footsteps echo faintly down the hall.

"We have food?" Sunggyu asks.

Myungsoo digs through his satchel and pulls out a small package wrapped in brown cloth. "In a manner of speaking. I took a second to stop by our camp after taking down the behemoths. I thought this would be useful."

It turns out to be a wheel of bread. It elicits groans from everyone but Sunggyu.

"Now I know we're really desperate," Woohyun jokes as he heats his bread on the flame wolf curled up on the floor. "I never thought I'd ever have to eat dwarf bread."

"Is this really all we're going to eat?" Sunggyu asks incredulously as he eyes his piece of bread. The morsel is barely larger than his palm. Not that he's surprised, he ate much lesser when he was promoting- he blinks slowly. Why is he thinking of his idol life in the past tense? He is an idol. That's his life. This is... just a temporary displacement, or else a very persistent hallucination.

"This is dwarf bread," Howon says gruffly and bites off a small lump from his morsel. "It's all you're going to need."

"What do you know about dwarfs?" Myungsoo asks. Dongwoo scoots closer to them, a smirk of mischievous interest on his lips.

Sunggyu shrugs nonchalantly. "Not much more than I know about elves. I mean, in my world, we don't really believe in dwarfs, either." Sunggyu fails to recall the main dwarf's name in The Lord of the Rings. "People think they're good with metal. And they really like gold. That's basically it."

"That's pretty much how it is here, too," Dongwoo says. "Humans and dwarfs have a working alliance. See, dwarf magic is all about metallurgy, all about mining. So they provide us weapons or armor or whatever metal artifacts we need because whatever they come up with is better than anything we can make, and in return we give them. Well." He grins. "Good food."

Sunggyu's forehead crumples at the absurdity.

"Go on, try the bread." Dongwoo looks like he's trying hard not to break out in laughter and Myungsoo is stifling his chuckles with the back of his hand.

Sunggyu raises the bread cautiously to his lips. Takes a tentative bite.

And has to stop himself from spitting it out.

"Eat it. It's good for you," Howon urges him from his side of the room.

Sunggyu just wishes they managed to save their supply of water at least. "It's so dry! Like my mouth turned into a desert the moment I bit in!" And everyone breaks up laughing, including Woohyun when he returns from checking up on Sungyeol.

Dongwoo fondly pats Sunggyu's back. "See, dwarfs approach baking a lot like how they approach everything else: it's about function and never about the frills. So for them, baking is a lot like improvisational weaponsmithing."

"Just because you can eat it doesn't mean you can't bash someone over the head with it," Woohyun explains.

"They don't even have ovens," Myungsoo adds helpfully. "They use their forges for baking."

"But dwarf bread has everything you'll ever need," Howon says seriously. "Working in mines don't really afford them a lot of space for luxury. Dwarfs make their bread to last and to be as filling as possible. Tasting good has nothing to do with it."

"Which is what we offer them," Dongwoo points out, pulling the conversation back to its original place. "They give us good metal, we give them good food."

"Fire." A weak voice from the corner of the room.

Everyone turns to look at Sungyeol, who is trying to sit up by supporting his body with his elbows. Myungsoo scrambles to help him.

"They're burning the whole castle," Sungyeol says even as Myungsoo heaves him to lean against the wall. "There's a goblin outside. I saw through its eyes. The castle is on fire."

"The castle is made of stone," Howon says gruffly, not bothering to hide the impression that he thinks Sungyeol is a few bricks short of an oven. "Stone doesn't burn."

Woohyun gets on his feet to peer outside the window. "Everywhere is still dark. I don't see any fire around us." But he looks at Sungyeol like he's willing to listen.

Instead of arguing with them, Sungyeol looks straight into Sunggyu's eyes and Sunggyu suddenly finds himself looking at the castle from outside. The night is still dark but the promise of dawn is in the sky. There is the sound of fluttering wings around him even though he doesn't see where it's from.

Fairies. They're outside the elves' enchantments, Sungyeol's voice says directly into Sunggyu's mind. We're in the mind of the goblin they used to burn the castle. Goblin eyes are different from human eyes. They can see different wavelengths of light and magic. Look.

And as they watch using borrowed eyes, Sunggyu sees one of the castle's walls collapse. There is a faint glimmer at the edge of sight, a sparkle of color all over the castle grounds like there is fire and it's everywhere and Sunggyu can barely see it but it's there. The flames are climbing the castle walls. Even if stone doesn't burn.

Sungyeol breaks the spell and Sunggyu's mind is catapulted back into his body. Disoriented. But he makes one thing clear even as he rushes to reorient himself with his own senses. "We have to get out of here."

And Dongwoo leaps to his feet. "Ghostfire. Invisible fire that burns magic itself. They aren't burning the stones, they're burning the magic in them!"

"Sungjong!" Howon yells as he lunges for the door, but he freezes when Myungsoo's shadow binds him.

"He already knows," Sungyeol tells Howon. "I told him. But the fire has already cut him off and he can't get back here. He's looking for another way out." Howon looks like he wants to slash them both but he forces himself to listen. He takes a deep, calming breath. Myungsoo releases his spell and Howon doesn't run off.

"How do we get out of here?" Woohyun interrupts them frantically. A tremor rocks the castle as if an entire tower just collapsed on itself and they all brace themselves against a wall. "We have to think of something!" He says this to everyone but he's looking desperately at Sunggyu.

Everyone is looking at Sunggyu.

And before Sunggyu can curl defensively into himself and yell How the fuck would I know! he's not even from this world, he's done well enough not to freak out, all things considered, he's a freaking musician and the biggest danger he's ever faced are unstable set pieces and the eventual deranged anti-fan. And before he snaps at everyone to think of something, you can use magic, the world—

stops—

Maybe that's the wrong thing to say, his own voice says in his head. What did I always tell myself whenever everyone fought and I felt like I was losing my mind? What did I learn about leadership?

Everything is still. Woohyun waiting for orders, Howon with both of his swords drawn, Sungyeol on his feet and leaning on Myungsoo, Dongwoo with fire in his hands, all of them looking at Sunggyu for guidance. All their trust pooling in Sunggyu's chest, lighting him like his own personal sun.

There is no movement anywhere. This isn't a pocket in time. This is the small, impenetrable area of calm inside Sunggyu's mind, the place he retreats to whenever he needs to think.

They are Infinite. Because Sunggyu is there and Sunggyu will protect them in any way he can, and that makes them his Infinite no matter who they are, no matter what.

Leaders should act the way people wish they themselves could act, he tells himself. Years of hard work, years of carrying the burden of six men on his shoulders, all condensed into one principle that has never failed him yet and will not fail him now. Leaders should never feel lost. Leaders should never admit to having no idea about what to do next.

Once before, Sunggyu learned to change himself in order to lead a handful of kinds who dared to dream of winning the world. Once before, Sunggyu learned that his voice and his music were not enough, that there were other talents needed of him.

He did not fail them then. And he would not fail them now.

In this world, magic is as real as it can get, Sunggyu hears his own voice say in his head. Anyone can use magic. For better or worse. You should be able to use it too if you put your mind to it.

Sunggyu grew up in a world of music and hard work, where magic is only for when dreams come true and you don't look too closely at how it all happened. Sunggyu believes only in real things.

But as he's seen with his own eyes and heard with his own ears, in this world magic is real. And Kim Sunggyu believes strongly in Kim Sunggyu.

A moment of perfect clarity. A gift that all leaders yearn for.

"This way!" Sunggyu yells and the world is back in motion. He runs to the window and pulls the black cloth off, revealing the brightening sky beyond.

"The whole place is on fire," Sungyeol reminds him. "Even if we survive a jump from this high, we definitely won't live through ghostfire!"

Sunggyu grins at his group. Mania. Adrenaline. All those good things. "We're jumping out but we won't land on the ground!"

"For the record, I've always known you were crazy," Howon sighs, but he stands beside Sunggyu anyway. "What's the plan?"

What Infinite needed back then was a leader who would shape them into the disciplined idols they are now. What Infinite needs now is a leader who can give them a way out of a burning castle.

What Sunggyu needs now is wings.

Like the wings that have been plaguing his dreams. "The plan is to fly," Sunggyu tells them all.

Magic is real.

"Whoa." Woohyun, for the first time, is not unimpressed.

Leather wings take shape and unfold right outside the window. Sunggyu can feel the world's mana coursing through his body, taking its cues from the commands in his head then leaping out into the world and ceasing to be merely imaginary. We need three, Sunggyu thinks strongly, and the mana tries to resist and dispel but Sunggyu grips it tightly, finds the nooks and crannies in his mind that he can use to bend the mana to his will.

The spell resolves in the blink of an eye. The evidences of his success glide effortlessly in the air before them: three majestic beasts, each one as blue as the morning sky.

Sunggyu can summon dragons.

"Come on!" he yells.

They help Sungyeol out first with Myungsoo assisting him. Howon and Dongwoo climb onto the back of the second, Sunggyu jumps on the third followed by Woohyun who settles in right behind him. The dragons flap their wings to climb the air, less about lift and relying on the magic that created them to also aid their flight.

A loud crash from below. A chunk of the wall explodes outward to reveal Sungjong, wearing one of his auras and glowing white from head to toe. Dongwoo's and Howon's dragon dives and glides gently to him. Sungjong lightly jumps aboard and they fly high once again to catch up with the rest of the group.

By the time they're too high to hear anything, Giltleaf Castle – with all the magic keeping it together burned away by invisible ghostfire – gives in and crumbles to the ground. But they don't stay to watch.

Dawn breaks. Woohyun's and Sunggyu's dragon catches the first rays of morning light.

"This is incredible," Woohyun says from right behind Sunggyu and Sunggyu remembers that his guard is down. "I've never seen anything like this before. Look, the wings are changing!"

Flecks of green are mottling their dragon's wings. Sunggyu glances at the other two but they don't seem to be affected by this development, their wings staying resolutely sky blue. "Weird," Sunggyu says. "But hey, as long as it doesn't affect their flight they can take whatever color they want."

"Nobody has ever summoned dragons before," Woohyun continues excitedly. "Nobody's mind has the right shape. I'm the best summoner around and when I tried the most I came up with was a lump of mana that vanished too quickly. You're amazing, Sunggyu!"

Where to now? Sungyeol's voice says in his head.

What the hell, what are you doing in my head?! Howon's voice this time, also soundless but arriving crystal clear. And sounding very affronted.

Times of need, Sungyeol huffs. It's just a simple mindlink, no need to freak out. Easier than yelling at each other while we're in the air. Just... think your words at us. Say them out loud if it helps.

"Sungjong, are you okay?" Sunggyu asks. He feels foolish for a moment, but Sungjong answers and that's what matters.

What, you're worried about me for just that? It's not like it was anything life-threatening, Sungjong laughs lightly, though Sunggyu hears the surprised gratefulness in the tone.

"Glad to hear it. But Howon? Don't ever let Sungjong out of our sight again, okay?"

Count on it, Howon mutters grimly, earning a falsely affronted Hey! from Sungjong.

Again, where to now? Sungyeol repeats.

Woohyun twists and turns in his seat. "It's hard to get bearings from high up but it looks like we're going in the right direction." He points at a low mountain ridge by the horizon. "The Glen Elendra should be on the other side of that ridge."

That's about a day's travel, Dongwoo says. But in the air we should be able to reach it in an hour. Grim silence greets his words. Is everyone ready? Looks like we'll be fighting this war earlier than we thought.

I guess it's too late to back out now, Myungsoo mutters to himself.

"The Glen is the heart of fairyland," Woohyun reminds them all. "The moment we pass the Veil, the enchantments tampering fairy magic during daytime won't be in effect anymore, meaning their magic will be as strong as ever."

We already know this, Woohyun, Sungjong says patiently.

Howon's voice is bracing. So let's do this hard and fast. The queen is the central brain of all the fairies. Take the queen down and the rest will follow. Right?

"That's the plan," Woohyun says tersely. "Sunggyu's dragons are giving us a huge advantage: we can fly right into the heart of the Glen and into the queen's palace instead of breaching their kingdom from the edge and fighting our way through."

Sungyeol groans loudly. Straight into the lair of the strongest fairy alive. Great. I'm positively ecstatic.

So it's time to unleash our full power now, boys! Only Dongwoo could sound so manic about the prospects of life and death. But Sunggyu isn't fooled. Dongwoo, both this one and the one in the other world, are solid believers in positive thinking especially in the face of adversity.

I'm cutting the mindlink, Sungyeol tells them. I have a feeling I need to save my energy for later. Let's connect again in a while. And the buzz of voices grows silent.

"Are you ready?" Sunggyu asks Woohyun.

"We've been saving our major spells for the main fight. That doesn't mean I'm any less worried," Woohyun admits. "I want us all to get out of this alive. I even want to tell Sungyeol to stay back because he can't use magic offensively on the same level as the rest of us. I don't want him to get hurt. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"But you need him there."

"We need him there," Woohyun agrees. "Sungyeol. Dongwoo. Sungjong and Howon. Myungsoo. All six of us."

Sunggyu grins even though Woohyun can't see it. "Don't leave me out. I'm coming with you guys."

"Don't put yourself in danger," Woohyun chides him. "I acknowledge that you're a genius to have summoned dragons, but it's going to take more than this to be able to fight."

"I can summon more," Sunggyu says confidently. "Ten. Maybe fifty. An entire army of dragons. Don't tell me that won't be helpful."

"But I think I've already pulled you in too much." Sunggyu turns in his seat to catch Woohyun looking at him intensely. Woohyun smiles at him, sad and wistful. "I don't know how it happened either, it doesn't make sense. I mean, you know how magic feels now, right? It's like telling the world what you want to happen using the right words and the right tone, and each person uses their own words and tone so the world reacts differently. Well."

Woohyun laughs, so very conscious of what he's saying, just like Sunggyu's Woohyun whenever he acknowledges his complex. "The day you came, I asked the world to help us get through this. When the council gathered the six of us, they made me the leader because I have the most experience working with groups. But that doesn't mean I can actually lead a group. That doesn't mean I can lead anyone anywhere. And I can't. I fall to pieces when other people need me."

"You did your best," Sunggyu says, facing front again. "That's all that anyone could ask for."

"Maybe that's how it is in your world." Woohyun's grip around Sunggyu's waist tightens. "That's not true here. What matters here is that we succeed. What matters here is that we stop the fairies now before they grow any stronger. So I asked the world for help. And then. Well. The world gave me you."

Sunggyu laughs despite his pessimism. Anything to lighten the mood. Because it's too dangerous but too easy to imagine these words being said by his Woohyun instead. "Then the world heard you wrong. I'm a singer! From a world that doesn't have magic! I can't do anything here, I'm practically next to useless."

Woohyun shakes his head. "Says the guy who summoned dragons on his first try! You know that's not true. You lead us this far. We wouldn't have made it here without you."

"Don't say that," Sunggyu retorts. "So what if they didn't listen to you at first? They would have learned eventually. I just arrived before you found your leadership style but that doesn't mean you would have failed if I didn't." He feels Woohyun laughing against his body even if Woohyun manages to stay silent. "What?"

"How do you know exactly what to say?" Woohyun asks, incredulous and fond at the same time.

"I also live with a Woohyun," Sunggyu admits and wow, why does it suddenly feel like he's living on the edge of danger? "And you're exactly like him. I mean, you guys are different in a lot of things but you're exactly the same person where it matters. Smart and well-meaning. Emotionally needy. Always needs to be loved. Always comparing himself to different people and hating every single time he falls short of some standard. Even if no one else is comparing him."

"Sounds like you've been watching him closely," Woohyun says with a corner of his lips quirked up.

"Someone has to," Sunggyu says quietly, falling into the habit of defenses. "It's so easy for him to hurt himself."

But then, this Woohyun isn't his Woohyun, right? This Woohyun isn't so careful of what he eats, isn't so particular with his body, but he knows his pack like the back of his hand and he uses each beast's strengths to their advantage. This Woohyun has carried the burden of leadership and quickly realized that it means having to be someone who he's not, and having to change himself or ask for help is okay. Because this Woohyun is forced by experience to see past the glamour of the role.

"He's lucky that he has you to protect him, then," Woohyun says. "Even if he doesn't know how lucky he is. Take it from me. I can take a lot of things for granted."

But in the end, Sunggyu thinks, maybe all these differences are about what his Woohyun can learn but it's not about who Woohyun really is. Because maybe what matters is that the person holding on to Sunggyu now while they're flying through the air is a Woohyun, who is still a Woohyun in his own right, even if it's not his Woohyun.

And even if they are innately the same, these are still Woohyuns of different worlds.

"I've never told him why," Sunggyu whispers, doesn't really care if Woohyun hears him. But with them so close together like this, it's impossible for Woohyun to miss the words.

"I think he'd like to know."

Yeah. Maybe this isn't his Woohyun but this is still Woohyun. And they're closer than they've been for a while and Sunggyu has been strong for too long.

"Even if this is the reason?" he asks. Turns his head fully and leans in quick. Learns how it feels to have Woohyun's lips against his, all those years of wondering and imagining cresting in too fast a moment of experience. "My Woohyun and I... we need to function as a team. A lot of people rely on us working well together. I can't let something like this get between us."

"I'd want to know if it were me," Woohyun insists quietly, "and I'm sure your Woohyun would want to know, too."

"I can't afford this kind of change," Sunggyu admits with a short laugh.

Woohyun's arms around Sunggyu's waist tightens and Sunggyu tenses because right now he's not sure which Woohyun is running around inside his head, but this Woohyun doesn't ease up until Sunggyu eases in to the assurance. "You said he and I were the same where it matters, right? Well. I think you matter. And I'm glad to know."

Sunggyu nods, withdraws into himself once more, carefully shapes his expression back to calculated blankness. "I'll think about it. Afterward. Let's focus on your mission first."

Woohyun rests his head against the back of Sunggyu's neck. "One last fight. Let's get through this alive and it'll all be over."

The Veil looms as they approach, a weak shimmer in the air that forms an unbroken dome over the valley.

The Glen Elendra holds up to everything Sunggyu imagined fairyland to be, at least from what he can see high in the air. There's color everywhere in every shade he can imagine, maybe even a few of those he can't, color made possible only through magic like the eighth band of the rainbow. There are no castles or towers or houses anywhere in the valley, just the largest garden Sunggyu has ever seen.

And at the center of the Glen, towering over the trees is a single unopened rose bulb the size of a shopping mall.

The fairy queen's palace.

The good thing about riding dragons is that they can fly straight to the palace instead of having to fight fairies on foot. The bad thing is that riding dragons into enemy territory isn't exactly a subtle method to get anywhere.

"I'm just glad that fairies can't fly very high," Woohyun mutters.

Is everyone ready? Sungyeol asks.

I've been keeping my fire down for days, Dongwoo informs them lightly. Going full force will be a relief.

Howon and I are ready, says Sungjong. Remember, we can't afford a single injury. Keep your armors strong.

"Myungsoo?" Sunggyu asks. "You're awfully quiet."

Maybe the mindlink works beyond just words; Sunggyu can feel Myungsoo's anxiety as if it were his own. I'll be releasing L's full power again, Myungsoo worries. It's been years since I had to. And. I'm not sure if I can rein it back afterward. Guys, L is very dangerous, if I can't control him after the fight-

I'll fight him, then, Howon says confidently. Long enough for you to take over. After all, L failed to kill me before, right? I don't think he'll succeed this time around. And I kind of like Myungsoo more than L.

Besides, you have me now, Sungyeol adds. Even demons have minds, meaning I can subdue him if you can't.

Sunggyu can see Myungsoo smiling in his head. Just don't go overboard, okay? I'll also be in there being scared with all of you.

"I have a question," Sunggyu volunteers. They're above the Veil's zenith now. The Glen looks peaceful from this high up. "How will we keep fairies all over the valley from swarming the queen's palace?"

"I have a few tricks up my sleeves," Woohyun says. "I've been collecting beasts for this specific purpose, actually. You already saw one of them last night."

So I guess we're ready. We may get separated down there so I'll keep the mindlink open. If anybody needs help, remember: ask for it.

Woohyun braces himself against Sunggyu. "Let's dive."

Sunggyu nods gamely. "Hold on tight."

As one, the dragons fold their wings and they drop from the sky.

The rush of air past their ears is deafening.

The Veil – designed solely to keep fairy magic within the Glen – lets them through, ripples in the shimmering air the only clue that the magic was disturbed. The dragons flare their wings to slow their fall, controls their glide to head straight to the palace itself.

Four of them don their armors as one. Glyphs glow white on Sunggyu's skin as Sungjong's magic comes alive to protect him.

The fairies can't fly high to greet them, but even at the eye-watering speed of their dive Sunggyu can see the fairies swarming thickly near the palace.

I've got this, Dongwoo yells. Sunggyu turns his head in time to see Dongwoo jump off his dragon and explode. The fireball splits into four birds of flame with Dongwoo riding the largest one, and they burn their way through gathered fairies, scattering the crowd and letting the three dragons past.

Their claws grip the green flower bud tightly. The six men jump onto the roof of the palace. The dragons disperse back into mana the moment Sunggyu's feet touch the springy plant matter.

Myungsoo's face and arms (and the rest of his body, Sunggyu assumes) are covered in jagged black runes. Howon is wearing his familiar aura, much like the one Sunggyu is wearing, but Sungjong's armor looks like it was forged out of silver and mirrors, scattering sunlight brightly all around him. Sungyeol, on the other hand, is shrouded in mist so thick that they can't actually seem him anymore.

Woohyun isn't protected by anything yet but he's invoking under his breath and they're quickly surrounded by sparkles of green light.

Myungsoo crouches and lays his hands on the bulb. The green quickly starts crumpling and turning black. The plant wall caves in the exact moment Woohyun's spell resolves into an army of giant spiders that litter half the palace roof. The army skittles on its thousand legs to cover every inch of the palace in a web of sticky silk.

A blast of hot wind hits them. Not far above is a new flock of phoenixes crisscrossing the air with waves of fire.

"All of you go in," Woohyun commands. "Dongwoo and I will cover our trail." Sunggyu knows better than to protest. Woohyun and Dongwoo can handle themselves.

Howon jumps into the hole first, followed by Myungsoo and Sungjong. The Sungyeol cloud watches Sunggyu intently.

A final reassuring glance at Woohyun and the beginnings of the next wave of his army. Sunggyu jumps in and Sungyeol follows without a word.

The inside of the palace is a dark maze, hallways branching everywhere and seemingly at random intervals. Howon's swords are already alight whereas Sunggyu and Sungjong are sources of light of their own so they can still see their way through the maze of pale pink halls. Myungsoo has always been more comfortable in the shadows. And Sungyeol-

"So this is what a fairy mind feels like," Sungyeol says from deep within his mist. "The queen is giving me a headache. Her senses are scattered across too many bodies but she's the only one we have to find. The main one. Several layers deeper into the flower."

"Which direction?" Sungjong asks.

"To the center."

"Stand back," Howon warns, but he slashes violently at the thick petal walls before any of them actually clear his range, his swords cutting and burning at the same time. He leads the way past the ruins, dodges left from a rapier thrust an inch away from his cheek. He bats the weapon away with a quick swing of his own. The fairy flits back out of range.

The hallway is quickly filling with armored fairies zipping through the air with wasp-like wings. This species is larger than the ones they fought earlier, each one half the size of a man and wielding stingers plucked off giant hornets.

"I have this," Myungsoo says. The writing on his skin spreads even thicker. Thorns sprout all over his body, tearing his clothes away to reveal scars that glow deep red like magma. He breathes toxic green smoke in the direction of the fairies and all those it touches grab their throats and fall to the floor.

"That's our cue to go far away really fast." Sungyeol freezes the next layer of wall which Sungjong shatters through with a kick.

"Was that... L?" Sunggyu gasps.

"That was Myungsoo borrowing some of L's powers," Howon explains. "The real L won't have waited for us to leave before breathing poison everywhere."

Sungyeol leads them deeper into the maze. "This way."

Two outside, one fighting on his own,, Sunggyu counts in his head as they run through the next empty halls. A tremor rocks the entire palace followed quickly by the enraged roar of a gigantic beast from above.

"Looks like Woohyun's really summoning the big ones," Sungjong grumbles.

They slash and burn and shatter their way through more walls that Sunggyu can reliably count. Deeper and deeper into the palace, the spaces becoming tighter, the maze patterns more intricate.

"Uh-oh." That's one of the last things Sunggyu wants to hear from the normally very stoic Sungyeol. "Grab on to something!" he yells, both by voice and through their mindlink.

And the reason why makes itself clear immediately after.

The entire palace begins to shake. Not just the tremors of Woohyun summoning his monsters or even Dongwoo's explosions. They can feel the unsettling rumble coming from deep inside the structure itself. Howon and Sungjong stab their swords through the walls and grip tightly. Howon grabs Sunggyu's arm while Sungyeol deactivates his mist to avoid freezing Sungjong.

The palace... blooms.

It's toss and tumble for a while, all four of them yelping and struggling to stay on their feet as the world reorients itself, floors becoming walls, walls becoming the ceiling, the dark hallways suddenly filling with bright daylight and wind blowing from all over. Sungyeol loses his grip but doesn't roll far away, whereas Sunggyu grabs on to Howon tighter than he's ever held anyone in his life and Howon endures the discomfort of a grown man curled firmly against his body.

But soon the world stops moving and there's a definite floor for them to step on. Sunggyu lets go of Howon, and Howon breathes freely again now that Sunggyu isn't crushing his lungs.

There's sky above and they're standing near the middle of a gigantic pink rose in full bloom. A frantic glance around shows trails of webs littering the outer edge of petals. There are spiders leaping and crawling and phoenixes still burning through the open air above. On the petal to their right is a beast made entirely of vines snatching wayward fairies in midflight.

"The queen," Sungjong says darkly.

And at the very center of the flower is a throne made of the iridescent wings of butterflies. And on that throne she sits gracefully.

The queen of the fairies.

She's human in shape, not just humanoid, but with every blink Sunggyu's eyes see a collection of flowers carefully arranged to look human even though his brain insists that it's a woman wearing a gown regally made of petals. Like one of those pictures where you never know what you're looking at: is it two faces or a vase? are the stairs going up or down? is the terrace seen from the top or the bottom?

Is she a woman made of bluebells? Or a bouquet made to look like a queen?

But then, in this world maybe there isn't one answer. Maybe it's possible to be both where magic is real.

The queen of the fairies.

And she turns to face them.

From the flowers of her hands crawl out black beetles that fly toward Sunggyu's group, changing in mid-flight from harmless insects to dark-winged warriors brandishing epees made of thorns. There are too many of them to count.

"The final-sting fairies," Sungyeol tells them urgently. Sungjong and Howon raise their swords, their aura and armor glowing brighter. "The queen's personal guard. Be very careful. It was one of those fairies that got me last night. Those swords can-"

"Decay human flesh." Howon takes a careful step back. "We know. Fairy magic. Woohyun told us last night."

The fairies saunter closer. Their epees glint evilly in the sunlight.

"Any ideas, guys?" Sungjong whispers, almost but not quite frantic.

"How about I drop in?" a voice shouts from above just before a pillar of fire erupts and consumes the body of the swarm and scatters those at the edges. The fire spell resolves into a burning python with a body thick as Sunggyu's torso. Dongwoo lands nimbly from the sky, worn and worse for wear but still so full of vigor.

"Dongwoo, the queen!" Sunggyu yells, thankful that Dongwoo is always attentive to context.

The python curls around the throne, but the flowers don't burn and a tiny chrysanthemum blooms between the snake's eyes. It pauses for a moment before turning to face Dongwoo instead.

A flash of green sparkles quickly followed by a shadow that blots out the sun above the throne, a split-second of ominous dark right before a frog the size of a dump truck drops from the sky and crushes the python and the throne beneath it. "Thought you could use my help," Woohyun calls, crouched on the frog's head, wearing tight-fitting armor woven entirely from spider silk.

Somehow, Sunggyu knows better than to feel relieved. "Sungyeol, where is she?"

"Her mind is scattered all over the flower palace," the Sungyeol cloud says. "I'm trying to find where she's collecting herself-"

The frog's tongue lashes out like a whip. Howon is fast enough to cut it right before it hits Sunggyu. Woohyun, eyes wide, disperses the creature and leaps away. A chrysanthemum falls delicately through the air.

Sungjong spins on his heel and calls up a wall shaped like jagged crystal. The vine monster's claws scratch against it, leaving deep gashes that reform in seconds. Sungyeol covers the creature in mist until it's completely encased in ice.

It's only then when they realize that all the spiders all over the flower have crawled silently closer and surrounded them, each one sporting a tiny chrysanthemum right above the mandible.

A green and blue fairy the size of a bulldozer lands heavily nearby, each of its bladed arms dripping with thick, green goo. The floor sizzles and crumples wherever the drops fall.

The men share a collective moment of silence, a point in time that translates to everyone simultaneously thinking "Oh shit."

"Can you unsummon the spiders?" Dongwoo asks Woohyun tersely.

"Not all of them at once!"

Howon's smirk is grim. "Then we don't have a choice." For the first time in Sunggyu's memory, the blades of Howon's swords glow bright enough to be blinding. Woohyun doesn't resist.

Several things happen at the same time.

Flowers sprout beneath their feet. "The queen!" Sungyeol yells. Everyone jumps away as the throne reforms and the bouquet sitting on it blooms to life, immediately surrounded by its swarm of guards.

The floor in front of the giant fairy turns opaque black. A demon, three times the size of a man and covered head to toe in thorns, lunges up from the darkness, grabs the fairy's throat and bites its head off.

Specters of blue form in the air, shadows of three pairs of leathery wings that they can barely see grow solid and flap wide. Sungyeol climbs on the back of one, Woohyun and Dongwoo on another, and Sunggyu by himself on the third. Howon and Sungjong are charging through the army of spiders and scattering severed limbs behind them.

Are we retreating? Woohyun asks.

Sunggyu doesn't answer. He quietly takes stock of the situation, reorients himself with what they have and what they still need to do.

Anything Woohyun and Dongwoo can summon can also be turned against them.

Think, Sunggyu, he berates himself.

Myungsoo, Howon and Sungjong are fighting through Woohyun's spiders and the new swarm of the queen's personal guard. Sungyeol is thinking the aerial view at the three still on the flower, providing a new perspective and allowing them to guard themselves better. But even Sunggyu, in his inexperience, can see that they're all on the defensive and that's no way to win this fight.

The queen is watching them all from her throne.

Think!

One of Dongwoo's phoenixes speeds past above Sunggyu, chasing one of the last airborne fairies.

And Sunggyu gets an idea.

"Dongwoo," he asks urgently, "are your phoenixes still flying under your control?"

Huh? Yeah, most of them are-

-and none of Sunggyu's dragons have grown chrysanthemums-

-as a tribe, the fairies learned how to live on the natural magic that the land produces, Sungjong said yesterday-

-and just minutes ago when they broke into the palace, what did Sungyeol say? So this is what a fairy mind feels like ... The queen is giving me a headache-

Because...

... because it's the first fairy mind that Sungyeol ever encountered? And Sungyeol found that watcher fairy by peering into a raccoon's mind, not by sensing that fairy's mind itself. Because...

Because...

A sharp chill crawls down Sunggyu's back. Epiphanies always make him feel like he dived into a freezing lake.

All the fairies they killed were nothing but summons. There has only ever been one fairy.

She is watching from her throne.

Her throne is the flower of her palace.

Her palace is the rose of the valley.

Her valley is the garden of the world.

And everything with a connection to the garden that doesn't have its own mind, she can learn to command using her chrysanthemums.

"Woohyun! Can you summon anything that can fly?"

What? Just beetles, but they can't fight-

"Dongwoo? More phoenixes?"

How many do you need?

"As many as you can make. Cover me!" Sunggyu's dragon spreads its wings, gathers the wind beneath itself and soars higher. Dongwoo's phoenixes surround him, followed by blue phantasms that mature into sea serpents.

Thank me later, Sungyeol butts in. I don't want whatever you're planning to be suicidal.

"I have so much to live for," Sunggyu says solemnly. And so what if he's thinking of Woohyun? "Let's dive." The dragon folds its wings.

It's funny, Sunggyu thinks when the world is rushing up at him and the roar of the wind renders him deaf. It's funny how he's always relied on his voice to help his dreams come true. How it's his words more than his actions that helped Infinite push and pull their way to the top. But now that actual lives are depending on him, in the end he has to rely on his hands.

The queen's guard swarms thickly, a poisonous cloud of black covering the throne and hiding Sunggyu's target from sight.

But Sunggyu's momentum is too great to be stopped. And where his speed may fail, Dongwoo and Sungyeol have thrown their support.

They're not fighting alone.

The phoenixes fly ahead and burn through the swarm, creating an opening for Sunggyu's dive and letting him through. The phantasms lose their shape to coat Sunggyu in a layer of hardened memories, a totem of protection above the armor Sungjong cast on him.
But the queen is still hidden in her swarm, the speed of the dive is hurting Sunggyu's eyes and he's so close, he only has this one chance but if he can't see-

Close your eyes, Howon's voice says in his head, and look through mine.

And Sunggyu does.

He sees himself on the back of his dragon soaring downward at breakneck speeds. And Howon has positioned himself where he can see the queen clearly.

And at the right moment, Sunggyu opens his eyes again. Reaches out. Closes his hand around the queen's neck and feels a stem against his palm-

-and picks the flower from its throne.

Flowers, once picked, are nothing but dead things.

Sunggyu! Myungsoo, alarmed. You're-

"-awake?"

It takes a moment for Sunggyu's vision to clear and another for him to jumpstart his lungs when he realizes he's not breathing.

"Hyung?" Myungsoo asks uncertainly.

Sunggyu is lying in bed.

But not his bed. It doesn't take much deductive reasoning to figure out where he is, what with the white blanket and the absence of personal furniture and the tiled floor and the beeping, glowing machinery, the ceiling lights turned off and a solitary lamp casting warm light in a nearby corner. The smell of disinfectant in the air. There's a tubed needle stuck through the back of Sunggyu's hand and the bed is slightly inclined from the waist up. Myungsoo is sitting on a spindly chair right beside the bed.

"Myungsoo?" Sunggyu asks. He sounds like he just ate gravel. Like he hasn't spoken for...

"Hyung." Myungsoo smiles. Cheerful. Relieved.

Sunggyu tries to sit up, an action that his body takes as its permission to start aching all over and at the same time. "Shit," Sunggyu whimpers, falling back against the stiff bed.

"Shit is right," Myungsoo says with an amused grin. "I'm just glad you're okay, hyung."

"But-" the queen, Sunggyu almost asks, "-what?"

Myungsoo frowns in worry. "Maybe you're not so okay yet," he says. "The doctors said they didn't think you were concussed but if you can't remember what happened-"

"Myungsoo." Deep, calming breaths. "Where. Is everybody?"

Myungsoo glances at his watch. "Filming should be done by now. They're probably on the way here already." A brief, thoughtful pause. "I should text them that you're awake."

"Too late for that, Kim Myungsoo," a voice scolds lightly from the door. Woohyun. "Hyung." Careful steps inside the room as if he's afraid Sunggyu would run away. Or bite his head off.

"How are the kids?" Sunggyu asks immediately. Reflex.

Some of the worry on Woohyun's face vanishes then. "Now I know you're really okay. The kids are fine. They're waiting in the van downstairs, Hyoan-hyung allowed only one of us to stay over. And speaking of which. Myungsoo, get packing, they're waiting for you."

Myungsoo glares at him hard. "I want to stay."

"You need to sleep."

"I can sleep here."

Woohyun groans. "Myungsoo, come on-"

It takes a lot of effort but Sunggyu manages to raise a hand and ruffle Myungsoo's hair. It's weak but the fondness is there. The gentle reassurance. "Hyung will be okay. Go home. Get some sleep."

Myungsoo doesn't say anything. Looks sulky and rebellious but Sunggyu knows better. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't."

"You two are so sweet," Howon coos as he comes in. "You forgot your bag, Nam-star. And Hyoan-hyung sent me to make sure Myungsoo wouldn't take too long to pack up." He looks strange, Sunggyu thinks, without his swords in his hands.

Myungsoo rolls his eyes at them and gets up with a huff.

"Atta boy," Howon teases. Myungsoo ignores him and heads out the door. "You sure you'll be okay taking care of the old man by yourself?" Howon asks Woohyun.

"Hey."

Woohyun grins, taking the backpack from Howon. "I'm sure he won't be much trouble."

Sunggyu wants to throw his pillow at them but he's not sure if his muscles would listen.

"I'm glad you're okay, Leader-Gyu," Howon tells him lightly. "But I agree with Myungsoo. Get some rest. You took a bad fall the other day. We don't want you and your aching bones to slow us down."

"I feel so loved," Sunggyu mutters. "Oh, and Howon?"

Howon looks back from beyond the door. "Yeah?"

Sunggyu doesn't say anything. Only looks at Howon with a question in his eyes. A request for permission. A quiet moment of understanding.

Howon nods. Undoes Sunggyu's locks and unbinds him from his chains. Leaves Sunggyu alone. Trusts him to do the right thing.

"Thank you," Sunggyu says even if Howon doesn't hear. "For everything."

"What was that about?" Woohyun asks as he takes Myungsoo's place on the bedside chair. "Oh hey, looks like you dropped something." He bends out of view for a second, reaches for the floor and sits back up. Raises-

the queen's head

-a bluebell held gingerly between his fingers. "From Myungsoo, I guess. Probably thought you'd look more dramatic with a dash of color in your hands. I wonder where he put the rest of the bouquet, though."

Sunggyu keeps his face blank.

He killed the queen. And without the queen the fairies' threat is ended. Which means Woohyun's wish came true. Which means... Sunggyu had no reason to be there anymore. The magic that brought him had no reason to keep him. So he was sent back.

"Gyu? You sure you're okay? You look-"

"Sick."

"-like you want to cry. Hey, whatever it is, I'm here, okay?"

"I don't really need to be taken care of," Sunggyu says by way of answering. "I'm sure you'll sleep better at home."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Woohyun tells him with a light laugh. "Let me take care of you at least this once, old man."

"You've taken care of me plenty of times before."

"Like when? You never let me."

"Whenever you look after the kids, you're taking care of me."

Woohyun's laughter is much less controlled this time, and a lot more unimpressed. "That is such a shitty answer, Kim Sunggyu."

Sunggyu just grins at him, weak but genuine. Watches Woohyun watching him.

And this is dangerous, this moment between them, a part of Sunggyu's brain rearing up and sounding the alarms... but he's been through other dangers, taken worse risks in another world that right now exists only in his memories.

I'd want to know if it were me, Woohyun – the other Woohyun – told him when they were flying. You said he and I are the same where it matters.

"You're looking at me weird." Woohyun chuckles. But there's nervousness there, Sunggyu can hear it.

"How weird?"

Woohyun shakes his head. "I shouldn't say."

"Hey, it was my look, I'd want to know how it came across."

"Like you want to kiss me," Woohyun blurts out. "But that's stupid of me, I'm just tired okay-"

"Maybe I do," Sunggyu cuts in. He doesn't dishonor Woohyun's honesty by looking away. Keeps his eyes on Woohyun even as Woohyun freezes in surprise.

"What? Gyu-"

"Maybe I've wanted to for a long time," Sunggyu continues. It's hard to stop the dam once the water starts pouring. "Maybe I've wanted to for years. Maybe I've been working hard to keep you from knowing. But that doesn't mean I don't want to."

Woohyun looks like he wants to say something – anything... but can't think of what to say at all. Nam Woohyun, speechless, what a moment to remember.

"But I'm not going to," Sunggyu finishes. "And I never will. You're too important to me to push away just like that."

"Sunggyu. Hyung. I can't-"

"I know. And I'm not going to ask you to. But I'm not going away, either," Sunggyu preempts him. "I'm not going to be afraid of being around you just because you know now. I just..."

It doesn't take too long for Woohyun to compose himself. To catch on to what Sunggyu is saying. "Don't want me to be afraid of you?" Woohyun finishes for him. He breaks out a smile, one of the genuine variety, the kind he uses only when there are no cameras around. "Me? Afraid of you? Kim Sunggyu, it'll take a lot more than this to chase me away."

It's Sunggyu who's laughing this time. Not in relief, not exactly. More like... being free after spending so long in chains. More like riding the wings of a dragon for the very first time. "I'm not idiotic enough to think otherwise."

"But thank you for telling me," Woohyun says. Takes Sunggyu's hand and squeezes. "I'm glad to know."

Maybe a lot more happened than Sunggyu saving the other world. Maybe it wasn't just the other Woohyun's wish that brought him there.

So. Sunggyu breathes lightly. What was I worried about all this time?

"Aaaaand look who's back!"

"Enough of the melodrama, Woohyun."

"Hyung!" the rest of the team cheers as Sunggyu hobbles into the practice room. Woohyun jumps out of the way just in time for Myungsoo to barrel into Sunggyu and almost carry him back into the hallway. Nobody can hug quite as dynamically as Kim Myungsoo.

"You sure you should be on your feet, gramps?" Howon teases, smile too wide to be teasing.

Sunggyu fake-glares at him. "Just wait 'til this leech gets off me and I'll show you who should be in bed."

"Nothing like threats of violence to assure everyone that you're okay," Sungjong says, only half exasperated.

"I guess this means we should all be on our best behavior again." Sungyeol sighs deeply. "Man, I really don't want to do the laundry."

But it's Dongwoo who pushes the Sunggyu-Myungsoo mess of limbs back into the practice room. "I'm all for Sunggyu resting as well but there's something hugely wrong about seeing only six of us dancing in the mirror."

"Come on, Myungsoo." Howon does his best in prying the two apart. "Leader-Gyu has to earn his spot in Infinite again."

"And work harder for it, too," Sungjong adds.

"You guys aren't getting rid of me that easily," Sunggyu says confidently.

"We're still young enough to dream." Sungyeol winks at him. "We almost succeeded, too."

"What was that, Lee Sungyeol? It sounded like you were volunteering for laundry duty."

"Didn't say a thing, Noble and Wise Leader-Gyu," Sungyeol backtracks and Woohyun breaks up laughing.

"That's more like it. Now, everyone to your places," Sunggyu commands. And just like before, like always, Infinite follows even if they groan and complain every single time. "Music in three. Two. One."

Maybe they can win this world after all.

[Fin]

WIP meme!

verocity — Fri, 08 Nov 2013 03:10:56 GMT

Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations. No more than one sentence! (taken from a lot of people)

1. "You listen to me," he hisses as he grabs Woohyun's throat and squeezes hard enough to make Woohyun realize that he means business.

2. Kyujong knew – he just knew – that even this far away he and Donghae were thinking the same thing.

3. Yoochun rolled his eyes as if Yunho's greeting lacked sincerity. "The benefits of generous skin care sponsors. You, on the other hand, look haggard. Rough time on the road?"

4. "-we planned this getaway for months Yoochun-ah and if you think you're leaving me alone with Junsu for three days without any gadgets to pacify him-"

5. It wasn't Changmin, Junsu knew that much, because Changmin had never shown any inclination for sketching severed heads growing from the branches of withered trees.

6. Wooyoung was right. There were two mages left in the city, and the more Seulong told them about what was really happening the more Wooyoung just wanted to leave the place and forget about having ever been involved.

7. That was the tagline, at least. Not a single mention of overpriced fish, the erratic rains, the too-sweet meals, the people who smelled like eggs, the deep fried everything.

8. "I just tried different kinds of lube," Yixing tells them.

9. Then Dongwoon had gulped, looked shiftily at Kikwang, and voted to make him rest. He didn’t explain why.

10. Suho raised a hand and pointed a finger at a vague shape in the shadows high above them. His eyes softly glowed white, Chanyeol's spear grew warm enough to be felt through the leather, and the shape grew clearer as it descended with the clamoring of rusty chains and gears.

11. “Good evening,” Chanyeol greets the shadow tied up against the kitchen table.

12. Of all the other times of day, Sunggyu starts to remember in the bathroom when he and Howon are brushing their teeth, rushing - always rushing - because Sungjong fell half asleep in the shower again and Dongwoo just refused to be woken up peacefully.

home is where the heart is. pt.1 [Infinite]

verocity — Wed, 02 Oct 2013 13:40:26 GMT

Fandom: Infinite
Title: Home Is Where The Heart Is
Rating: G
Pairing(s)/Focus: Hoya/Sunggyu, Woohyun/Sunggyu
Length: 19,420
Summary: Memories and soulmates have funny ways of sneaking up on someone. This is a story of how Howon looks backward to the beginning, while Woohyun looks forward to fresh starts.
Warnings: -none-
Notes: Written for the kpop_ficmix 2013 challenge, a remix of reduxed's how many times do i fly through your headspace and a good day for love to die. Originally posted here.

Howon covers Sunggyu's eyes from behind and leads him into a shadowed alcove; they've passed by this one countless times before but Sunggyu hasn't actually given it any thought. The subtle cooling of the air conditioner and the soft whisk of leather tells Sunggyu that for this place, whatever it is, obscurity is a choice.

"Already I can tell that this isn't the type of restaurant we usually eat at," Sunggyu says blindly as he hears a door open. There are quiet voices on the other side. And the gentle clicking of heavy dinner knives against expensive china. And the faint smell of good wine in the air. Howon's other hand squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. "What happened to good old McDonalds for dinner?"

"Don't you think we're past the fast food stage by now, old man?" Howon teases. "We certainly make enough." At thirty-five, Sunggyu has written enough songs under his name to live off the royalties, and that's on top of his steady job as a sound engineer. And Howon, at thirty two, has his own accomplishments under his belt. "I appreciate saving up for our future but sometimes we have to indulge in the present, don't we?"

Sunggyu sighs, chidingly long-suffering. "If you say so."

Howon guides him onto a chair before he removes his hand over Sunggyu's eyes. "I wanted to take you somewhere nice tonight," Howon tells him with a wide smile. Sunggyu looks very nice, too, in a pastel cream blazer that the subdued candlelight paints warm yellow. Howon's gift from before they left for dinner an hour ago.

Howon's idea of 'nice' is an out of the way little Greek place that serves the freshest seafood this side of the river, and this side of the river is where people go to if price isn't as much of a concern as quality. Somewhere along the way, sometime in the almost fifteen years they spent together, Howon had developed Taste.

"What's the occasion?" Sunggyu asks. Not that he wants there to be an occasion. This is kind of... nice. Dressing up and going out for a quiet candlelit dinner. Not that he would trade away the pizza and beer in front of the flatscreen TV or the grilled pork belly and copious amounts of soju.

The two tapered candles between them are perfectly at the same height, the small flames glowing evenly. In his head, Sunggyu draws the symbol of infinity around the halos.

"I haven't been completely honest with you," Howon begins, and Sunggyu doesn't even think of worrying about whatever it is that Howon is keeping from him; Howon's eyes are glinting with mischief and pride and a whole lot of adoration. Sunggyu has no idea why that last one is there, has no idea if the Sunggyu in Howon's eyes is the same Sunggyu who is sitting across the table. "Remember that big thing at work? The one I wouldn't tell you about?"

"The one that had you staying late at the office without texting me and I had to rush home to feed Nurungi every time?"

Howon's laughter, Sunggyu thinks, just makes him so much more handsome. It just isn't fair. "Yeah, that one. See, it started off as a project. But it ended up as-" Howon slides his business card over the table, and even in the dinner light Sunggyu knows he's never seen this one before, a lot less artistic and a whole lot more executive "-a promotion."

"Wow." That's all Sunggyu could say right now. Wow.

"I know, right?" Howon says and he's giggling like a kid, so full of excitement. Sunggyu lets himself be swept away with the sheer, overwhelming energy of Howon's happiness. "I can't believe this is actually happening."

"You deserve it," Sunggyu tells him, as if he hasn't said those same words every time anything good happens to them. "You deserve so, so much."

The house with the manicured lawn. The dance studio with mirrors on every wall and the most complete sound system Sunggyu has ever put together. The fully equipped recording booth in the basement. The dog, even if Nurungi likes to play in the mud.

"And you," Howon says softly, as if he knows exactly what Sunggyu is thinking. And maybe he does. "I'm living the dream. All those things? They're nice. But you? You're the dream. I love you, Kim Sunggyu. I love you a whole lot."

"Cheeseball," Sunggyu says just as softly, but it's all fondness.

They're living the dream.

And maybe... maybe it's time to let some other dream go. Maybe it's time to stop chasing that strange, nameless memory at night, the one he never catches, the one whose face he only half-recalls.

Tonight is the last night Sunggyu thinks of infinity.

From a shadowed booth at the very back, curtains hiding her well out of sight, a lady in a red evening gown watches them the whole night with stars in her eyes.

"Hey. It's you again." The voice is cracked at the edges. A teenaged body still growing, still trying to figure out how to deal with all these hormones.

It says something about Woohyun that he doesn't even have to turn his head to know who it is. "Yeah. It's me. Again." But he turns his head anyway if only to smirk at the not-stranger. The most he can work up is a grimace. Damn nerves. He should be used to this by now.

"Third time's the charm?" the not-stranger asks. Woohyun envies how casual he sounds, how confident he seems even though they're about the same age, even though they've both been through this before. He should be wallowing in anxiety, not walking around talking to other aspirant trainees like it's freshmen orientation day. Woohyun could picture him so easily in his school uniform. The sporty kind. Probably.

"More like-" Woohyun has never lost count "-seventh, actually."

"Ah." A sympathetic nod. "I guess you've been doing this longer than I thought." A weak attempt at lightness, so maybe not-stranger isn't so well put together after all. Maybe it's just a well-practiced mask.

"Maybe." Woohyun shrugs. "I've seen you a few times. I don't think I ever caught your name."

"You were 343. Then 682. And now you're," a quick glance at the number taped to Woohyun's shirt, "275. I don't know the ones before that."

Woohyun grins, actually grins despite the knot in his gut. "Do you always pay this much attention during auditions, or should I feel special?"

Another shrug. Not-stranger's shoulders, Woohyun thinks, are among his better features. "The latter. No one else here has your power vocals. That kind of thing sticks to you. I thought you were a sure thing when you were still 343. I thought you'd be an idol by now."

And just like that the knot throbs tighter, weighs heavier. "Thanks," he says. The grimace is back. "I thought you were too, with the way you dance."

"I guess we were both wrong." So laid back. As if they aren't talking about months of disappointment, of feeling unwanted, of mornings when eating breakfast suddenly turns into an exercise of remembering to breathe.

"I guess we were. Nam Woohyun, by the way," he volunteers. "So you don't have to call me by my number. You could have just asked."

"Lee Howon." They shake hands. Howon's eyes linger on the bracelet of braided leather around Woohyun's wrist. At the silver symbol for infinity near the center. "I'd usually say 'glad to see you again' but that's just wrong, you know?"

"Given the context, yeah," Woohyun manages to say after a short bark of laughter. They fall quiet after that but it's a form of companionable silence, a shared dread that Woohyun hasn't felt before. He usually makes it a point to go to these auditions alone. To bask in the triumph, he first told himself, but later it was more so no one would have to take pity on him and offer comfort. Not until he was ready.

Neither of them makes it. Neither of them is surprised.

~*~

The soup is simmering by the time Sunggyu dares to say anything. He's sitting at the foldable table where they usually eat and he's looking at his tea like he can read the leaves (never mind that he buys his tea in bags). "You're a much better vocalist than anyone out there."

"If I were," Woohyun snaps as he stirs seasoning into the jjigae, "I'd still be there going through training schedules and signing non-disclosure contracts." He can't look at Sunggyu right now. For all that's between them, he just can't right now. Over the months Sunggyu has gotten so much better at reading Woohyun but that doesn't mean he's already learned what to say.

"You can out-sing practically anyone," Sunggyu says placidly. (Except you, Woohyun thinks, and it's only part bitterness.) "You know that. But that doesn't count for anything in the idol market."

"I guess they just don't want me then. I mean, they should know, right? They're masters at knowing what people want." He means to say it objectively, maybe even with a shot at humor, but Woohyun's control over his voice has the weirdest sense of irony and Sunggyu's ears are sharper than his eyes. "I get it. I'm too short. I'm too dark. My teeth are weird. Nobody wants me and there's nothing I can do about that."

The snowflake that starts the avalanche. Sunggyu used to get mad at him whenever he puts himself down like this. He used to snap back and list the things that he loves about Woohyun, and Woohyun would hear the pity in Sunggyu's nagging and walk out because pity is something he has never learned how to deal with, and times like these he just doesn't want to deal with Sunggyu.

Sunggyu, who could do anything he puts his mind to. Who has never learned what it means to fail. Sunggyu, who could belt songs he's heard only once, whose grades never suffer, who never gets an order wrong, who manages to live his own life by paying for everything himself. Sunggyu, who is basically as awesome as anyone can get. And Woohyun, who is... not so much.

This time, though, Sunggyu slowly stands up and wraps his arms around Woohyun's waist, not minding that Woohyun smells like sweat and smoke and the alcove-turned-kitchen in his tiny apartment really isn't big enough for this. "Don't forget hairy. Too hairy, actually." Woohyun tries to jab his elbow against Sunggyu's stomach but the hug is too tight for that. "But I want you. And there's nothing you can do about that either."

"Sleezeball." Maybe he just wants to get lost in the moment. Maybe he just wants to forget school tomorrow or today's disaster or maybe even band practice with Myungsoo tonight, no matter how much he always looks forward to that. Maybe he just wants to bask in knowing that even though they haven't talked about what this thing between them actually is, Sunggyu touches him even if he doesn't touch anyone else. That despite Sunggyu's own schoolwork and his job at a milk tea place and then his underground rock band on top of that, Sunggyu still stays home and awake to eat Woohyun's cooking whenever he has a bad day. "Can we just. Not talk about this? Please?"

A lady in a red hoodie had nodded at him as he left the auditorium, as if to say 'don't be surprised' or even 'it'll be the same the next time'. Or maybe not, but that's how Woohyun felt and he'd rushed home and started chopping vegetables just to have something to do with his hands. Reality check: maybe he wasn't cut out for the spotlight.

But he has band practice in an hour. They both do. And school tomorrow. Life doesn't stop just because he failed an audition. As if that was anything new.

Sunggyu nods against the back of Woohyun's head, then he lets go and starts gathering the vegetable peels by the sink. Woohyun's messes never stay long because he always cleans up after he cooks but you could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu. Not that Sunggyu keeps a spotless home; it's just that whenever he's Thinking of Something he also needs to do something with his hands.

Sunggyu doesn't deserve him, Woohyun keeps joking about that to everyone. But – and this is just a thought – it's really the other way around.

~*~

sender: power vocals guy
I guess I'll see you again next time (9:52 p.m.)

sender: Lee Howon
I gues (9:53 p.m.)
U okay? (9:53 p.m.)

sender: power vocals guy
Aw I didn't know you cared~~ (9:54 p.m.)

sender: Lee howon
I dont (9:59 p.m.)

sender: power vocals guy
Harsh. But yeah (9:59 p.m.)
It's nothing new (10:00 p.m.)

Eleven years of hard work – his and Sunggyu's – has Howon wiping his sweat with the bottom of his shirt as he steps out of their condo bedroom-turned-studio after three solid hours of dancing. He leaves the music playing and walks barefoot down the hall to the kitchen, stopping only when he sees Sunggyu hunched over the stove and staring into a stainless steel pot.

Well. That's a new sight.

"I always thought we got those things for decoration," Howon says, and Sunggyu jerks in surprise to look at him. "We've been living here for so long but we haven't used those things even once. I'm actually thinking of giving them away."

Sunggyu snorts at the truth in that. Eleven years of living together and still neither of them ever learned how to cook. It doesn't matter, though, not with Howon's non-stop choreography gigs and the various projects Sunggyu sings or plays for; with all that, it's just easier to order in or get take-out. Leaves much less of a mess, too. "There's something wrong about a home without a fully functional kitchen," Sunggyu tells him again, as if they haven't had these same discussions two, three, seven, and ten years ago, or even back when they first considered sharing space. Eleven years.

Sunggyu's apartment back then had been tiny when Howon moved in, just right for a student working part time at a commercial milk tea shop and singing for an underground rock band at night. Having another person live there stretched what space there was to its seams, but living with Howon had let Sunggyu ease back on the hours, had allowed Sunggyu to take more time to rest and actually enjoy his youth. It wasn't exactly domestic bliss but Howon would never trade those years away for anything.

"Oh, so this is home now?" Howon teases.

"I guess so." Sunggyu examines their kitchen with a critical eye, as if he hadn't been the one to push Howon into agreeing to buy the pots, the various knives, the non-stick pans, the stove— everything, even the jade-layered kitchen table. The only things they ever use are the coffee maker and the toaster, and even those are used so infrequently that they're practically pristine. "I don't know how it happened, but yeah I guess this will do. Home is where you reek of sweat and the person living with you doesn't mind."

"You know my stink turns you on. What are you thinking of making anyway?" Howon lays an arm around Sunggyu's shoulders and peers into the pot. He can't decide whether to feel relieved or disappointed that the only thing inside is water. It isn't even boiling. "Provided that you actually manage to get the stove to work."

Sunggyu frowns into the pot, then at the ladle in his hand as if it had personally wronged him. "I was in the mood for jjigae."

"We have literally hundreds of restaurant numbers saved in our phones-"

"Homemade jjigae, okay? Like. Cutting up vegetables first then mixing stuff into the water and... Okay, I don't actually know how to make jjigae." Sunggyu sighs in defeat, takes the pot off the stove and pours the water down the sink.

"So why didn't you? I'm not saying I wouldn't eat it, but for the record: if I do I expect to be thanked for putting up with it."

The look Sunggyu aims at him is nothing short of amused disbelief, then he strides to the fridge and laughingly yanks the door open. "If you haven't noticed, jagiyah, it's kind of hard to cook anything if we don't have anything to cook in the first place."

The only things in the fridge are bottles of water, a few cartons of milk, and some leftover takeout. Sunggyu closes the fridge door and spreads his arms at Howon like he just proved his point. Which he did, but Howon's mind is on other things entirely.

They're thinking of moving into an actual house soon. One with a yard where they can have a dog (or maybe two) in a nice part of the city. And Howon can go to his job as head choreographer (someday) and they can have parties on the lawn and Sunggyu can record his own stuff in the basement studio he's always wanted to build.

"Hey." Gently, slowly, he pins Sunggyu against the fridge and plants a soft kiss on his jaw. "I'm happy. With us. With what we have. Even if we don't actually know how to keep house."

And like every time, Sunggyu takes a moment to breathe, a moment to look into Howon's eyes before kissing him back. "I'm happy, too. Even if you're so sweaty all the time."

And like every time, Howon ignores that wistful gaze in Sunggyu's eyes, that tiny pause before he says anything. That moment when he looks like he suddenly realizes that he's talking to Howon and not someone else, and that it's always been Howon, and that yeah, maybe they are in love. And happy. If that means anything.

Howon has lived with that for eleven years. It hasn't bothered him since their second anniversary, never mind that Sunggyu insists on not celebrating their anniversaries (but they do, anyway). He'd hoped that it would go away, but if it's still there after all these years then it's probably there to stay.

Some people aren't lucky enough to get everything they want. But then, Howon knows that he already has a lot.

~*~

Howon's phone rings just as the elevator door slides open. He waves goodbye to the rest of his dance troupe and tries to remember where he parked. Being a senior choreographer means he could bring his own car to work, but that doesn't mean he has a parking slot named after him.

"Hey, princess," Howon greets as he walks to one of the farther corners. It's always the only space available by the time he gets to work.

"It's nice to know that you respect me as much as you love me," Sunggyu huffs.

"I treat you like royalty." And that's true enough. "I'm your knight in shining armor."

"Don't delude yourself, you're like the court jester or something. The fool."

"I've always been a fool for you, you know that."

Sunggyu's groan is of perfectly practiced misery. "Don't you ever get tired of being so greasy?"

"You say that like you don't find it so charming." There's more than one reason why Howon chose to own a purple car but high on that list is that no one else does. It's definitely easy to identify in a crowded parking lot. He tosses his gym bag to the back seat and climbs in behind the wheel.

"I refuse to incriminate myself," Sunggyu retorts primly. "I'm downtown, by the way. Coffee."

"I thought you swore off that thing."

"You know that production meeting I had today? Some things are just too stressful to think about without coffee. It's like you and—and knitting, I guess."

"Fair enough. Should I pick you up?" Howon starts the engine.

"Or we could hang out." Sunggyu says it like it's a suggestion but Howon hears the request for what it is. Sunggyu doesn't ask for much, always thinks that he can bear the weight of his world on his shoulders, so during the few moments when he does ask for something Howon always gives it to him.

Even the small things. Like having coffee somewhere before heading home. "Or yeah, we could hang out. Where to?"

"You know that tattoo place we found in Hongdae?"

Howon stares at his phone as if Sunggyu's face is live on the screen. "Wait, I thought we were getting coffee—"

"There's a coffee shop about two blocks down from it. Afters, I think it's called. Apparently it's been there for decades and I can't believe I've never actually tried it."

Afters

Does he-

But it's been years. What are the odds that... that guy will be there?

Howon tells himself that the chill in his spine doesn't mean anything. Sunggyu just wants coffee and he works with a lot of indie music types who maybe mentioned the place and it doesn't mean more than that. "Seriously? There's a Café Bené around the corner from our place and it's usually pretty quiet at this time of day."

"I know, I know. It's just that... I want to try this place out." There's frustration in Sunggyu's voice. Not at Howon, more likely at some vague thoughts at the back of his head, the part he never finds the right words for. "Who knows, maybe they actually serve the good stuff. But if you're tired, I can just grab some coffee and go home right after."

"No, no, don't worry about it," Howon says, grinning to convince himself. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

~*~

It's still the same place. All these years and it's still the same place. There's new art on the walls, the paint isn't chipping like he last remembers, the tables and chairs aren't as rickety, and they're serving gelato instead of ice cream now. But it's still the same place.

The small raised platform at the corner of the shop. A couple of mic stands. Still there. Clean, but they look like they haven't been used in a long time. Safe. Howon lets himself breathe easier.

"Really cozy," Sunggyu says as soon as Howon sits across from him. "I like how the place feels so... familiar."

There are paintings on the walls with price tags on the frames. Looks like someone couldn't interest a real gallery so they're showcasing their stuff several steps down the ladder instead. Howon and Sunggyu are sitting below a watercolor painting of a field of tiny pink brambles and for some reason the artist had titled it The Flowers of Forgetting.

Howon is a choreographer for an idol label. He has no idea how a painter's mind works.

"Like you've been here before?" Howon asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Almost. If that means anything." Sunggyu shrugs. A waitress brings him his cup of black and Howon a cup of something piled high with whipped cream. "You sounded stressed out on the phone. I thought you could do with some cheering up."

"It's super effective!" Howon sips at the whipped cream, making sure to coat his lips messily that way that always has Sunggyu scrunching his nose and not believing that he's living with someone so messy. But unlike before when Sunggyu just laughed and tossed paper napkins, now Sunggyu sighs at him, long-suffering but willing to put up with much more as Howon licks his lips clean. "How's your production thing coming along?"

The way Sunggyu stares into his cup makes him look so endearing. Howon would be cooing (to himself) if Sunggyu didn't look like a particularly anxious hamster. Like he knows Howon won't like whatever he has to say. Like Howon has never assured him that they were safe with each other, that they should be able to say whatever they want without fear of how the other person would react. Always getting ahead of himself.

They've changed so much over the years and they're still together despite everything that happened, and if there's one thing Howon learned it's that he could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu.

They're long past words of reassurances by now. Sunggyu has to remember it by himself. Has to remember that Howon has always been there. Will always be there.

Howon waits quietly, watches with all the fondness he can muster to show in public while Sunggyu works through the jumble of voices in his head, trying to find an anchor of stability to hold on to.

The waitress from earlier brings samplers of their new gelato flavors. A delivery boy arrives with cartons of paper napkins. A lady in a red miniskirt comes in and takes a seat by the windows. Howon's phone beeps with a message but he ignores it for now.

Some of the other patrons are jeering at each other by the time Sunggyu speaks up. Howon leans closer to hear him clearly. "All these times I tell you that I'm happy, you know that I mean it right? You, me, the flat... even the kitchen we never use?"

Howon nods. There are already too many voices in Sunggyu's head, each one trying to be heard over the others; adding one more, even if it's his voice, won't be so helpful.

"I'm happy. My life is awesome and I'm living it with a guy who's even more awesome." Sunggyu's hand starts to move, and maybe it's a nervous habit or maybe he doesn't even know he's doing it, but whenever the voices in his head are particularly bad he always finds something to do with his hands. Right now, in the absence of an instrument to play or anything to write with, Sunggyu's fingers are drawing a symbol on the varnished table. Howon watches it carefully. "It's just that... I have these dreams sometimes. And they're not the kind of dreams where you're looking for a happy ever after – I already have that. These are... weird. Like those dreams where you're being chased by werewolf cabbages? Only this time, instead of being chased, I'm the one doing the chasing. Only I don't know who I'm chasing. But I know that I have to catch him. I have to. Or else."

"Or else?"

"I don't know. Just... or else." Sunggyu raises his eyes and sees the amused concern on Howon's face. Then he laughs, breaks his own moment, and takes a sip of his coffee to hide his embarrassment. "Man, this new MV is really messing with me. And to think that I thought it was cool."

Howon leans back against his chair. He'd known, of course, about these dreams. Sunggyu used to talk in his sleep whenever they had too much to drink, and then there were the mornings after particularly tiring days when the line between dreaming and waking was too blurred before Sunggyu had his first cup of coffee. Howon had known even if he hadn't said a thing. Sunggyu is entitled to the privacy of his own head. Like Howon is entitled to his.

"We'll be doing a chase theme," Sunggyu is saying by the time Howon pulls himself back to the conversation. "The director likes action sequences and apparently he thought the music sounded like a good background for-"

"-is this thing on? Hello?"

"Hyung, can you be even more cliché?"

There are two guys on the stage. One of them is tuning an acoustic guitar while the other one is smiling at the confused café patrons-turned-audience with a microphone held to his mouth. "Hey, lucky people of Afters! You happen to be just in time for-"

No fucking way.

That easy confidence. So readily recognizable even if Howon hasn't seen him in years.

Sunggyu is staring at the vocalist as if he should know that face. As if they've met before and he's trying to remember where. And Sunggyu's mind has always been very sharp.

"We should go," Howon says abruptly.

"Won't that be rude?" Sunggyu says, still looking searchingly at the man's effortless grin. As if there are secrets there that he needs to read.

"They sing at a coffee shop. I'm sure they're used to it." Howon pulls his wallet out and slips bills under his cup. "Come on."

Sunggyu's face scrunches like he wants to insist on staying, but just like how Howon doesn't judge him for weird dreams, he doesn't judge Howon for sudden mood swings.

The lady watches them go.

"-great that this place is still around, yeah?" the man was saying into the microphone by the time they're at the door. "We haven't played here in years but what the heck, there's always time for a little nostalgia right? This is Kim Myungsoo on the guitar and I'm-"

They get in to Howon's car without saying a word.

They stop for take-out on the way home ("Anything but jjigae," was Howon's request so they get chicken barbeque instead), and by the time they're eating dinner the little café was already gone from their minds.

But earlier, back when he was struggling to find words for a dream he doesn't understand and his fingers were appreciating the smoothness of the table's varnished wood, Sunggyu was tracing the symbol for infinity.

Woohyun's "band" is technically just him on vocals and Myungsoo with an acoustic guitar, plus a generous side helping of Sungyeol for (im)moral support and occasionally as their band manager. A handful of students looking for bigger things than just studying for exams and studying harder for harder exams.

They all wanted to be idols once. But that's before Myungsoo discovered that people actually pay photographers and Sungyeol got kicked out of SM. Now they just play at coffee shops while Sungyeol goes through the various essays he's editing for his online tutoring thing. Not that they need the money for their music: Myungsoo earns enough from his photography gigs, Sungyeol is quickly becoming notorious for his merciless crusade for quality essays, Woohyun still receives regular allowances from his brother, and they're all sharing the same apartment (even if Woohyun stays over at Sunggyu's often enough; he doesn't trust Sunggyu to live alone). And then there's the fact that cafes don't really pay that much for freelance musicians in the first place. This band is a hobby. An outlet for the artists in them. When they say they don't do it for the money, they really mean it.

Myungsoo is staring intently at the screen of his laptop when Woohyun arrives at their flat. Sungyeol is stretched out on the too-small sofa indulging in a crumbling paperback.

Once, Woohyun heard Myungsoo say that home is where he can get lost in his head and not say a word for hours and the people living with him wouldn't find it odd. He was looking at Sungyeol the whole time. Woohyun had to refrain himself from calling out how sickeningly sweet the whole thing was.

Woohyun loves how these two just don't react to things. It gives him an excuse to announce his presence. Loudly. "Is it too much to expect that you should-"

"Shhh," Sungyeol hisses.

"-already be warming up by the time your-"

"Shhhhhh."

"-vocalist arrives to bring joy to your otherwise-"

"Shhhhhh!"

"-unexciting life? How do you expect to keep-"

Sungyeol takes his eyes off his book to pack as much venom as he could into a single glare.

"-up with my sheer brilliance if-"

"I'm done," Myungsoo says with a few finalizing clicks of his mouse. "Are you?"

Woohyun's grin is nothing but wolfish. "Myungsoo-ya, you should know by now that I am never done."

"How does Sunggyu-hyung live with you," Sungyeol mutters as he pulls himself up to a sitting position and tosses his paperback to the top of a pile of assorted stuff at the corner. "He's the most anal person I know and yet he seems so besotted."

Myungsoo speaks up before Woohyun manages to affirm the 'anal' part of Sungyeol's comment. "He's pretty quiet around Sunggyu-hyung," Myungsoo says as he reaches for his guitar. "I've seen them. He's subdued."

"Whatever goes on between me and Gyu is our business."

"As if you don't tell us all the time anyway," Sungyeol answers with a snort.

"Because I know you two are just dying to learn stuff that you haven't tried for yourselves yet."

"I've been practicing a few new songs," Myungsoo commandeers the conversation as he plucks a few notes from the nylon strings. "I thought it might be nice to add new stuff to our list."

Practice, as always, is just Myungsoo playing through their repertoire while Woohyun sings along and Sungyeol listens to them intently. "This is a musical chemistry thing," Sungyeol said once, "not a technical thing. You need to have soul. That's the kind of music that café people want to hear." He's already acknowledged that music just isn't his thing, but that doesn't dull the part of his mind that knows entertainment, the part that can tell by instinct what people will like. His critiques are less "You went flat there" or "You were half a beat off" and more "You look bored, don't do that" and "Why are you smiling? That isn't a happy song."

But by and large, it seems to work. That seems to be Sungyeol's place in the scheme of things. Sungyeol knows quality. He's the only person Myungsoo ever shows pre-treated pictures to. Everyone else has to wait.

A photograph on the crate-turned-coffee table catches Woohyun's eye. "What's this?"

"Huh?" It's unfair how Myungsoo still looks pretty no matter how scrunched up his face is. "Just a throwaway shot, no big deal."

Woohyun rolls his eyes. "Sure, wasting photo paper on some no big deal, perfectly reasonable."

Sungyeol guffaws loudly at that while Myungsoo just grins pleased. "Apparently, it's a dildo," Sungyeol says.

"It's not," Myungsoo snaps, suddenly affronted. "It's an ancient artifact celebrating fertility, okay. Hunters from Africa whittled it from ivory and presented it to their partners three months before they start conceiving-"

"Dildo!"

But Woohyun isn't looking at the ivory implement... thing. Whatever it is. There's a lady in the background examining a pair of red teacups. The camera hadn't been focused on her but Woohyun could still make out enough details to be sure. The memory is clear.

A quick nod beneath her red hood.

What are the odds.

"Is there a problem, hyung?"

Woohyun pulls himself back to the present. Myungsoo has a foot on Sungyeol's face while Sungyeol looks like he's contemplating biting it off. "Nothing," Woohyun says. "Nothing. Hey, think we can go through that last song again?"

Myungsoo lets go of Sungyeol and reaches for his guitar. They're through the first verse of a song about starlight falling when Sungyeol snaps his fingers deliberately off beat to catch their attention. "This looks promising."

"What?" Myungsoo drops the song and scrambles to Sungyeol's side, and normally Woohyun would join in but he doesn't trust what he'll see in Sungyeol's laptop.

(Once is enough. He still has nightmares about it. Although Sunggyu only looked thoughtful when Woohyun mentioned it. He's always wondered what Sunggyu's silence could mean.)

"There's a place in Hongdae that's looking for a new act," Sungyeol says. He catches Woohyun's eye. It's pretty near where Sunggyu-hyung sings. Afters. Interested?"

Woohyun grins gamely. "It's worth a shot."

~*~

sender: Lee Howon
Hey. R u busy (4:32 p.m.)
I hav a sugstion (4:34 p.m.)

sender: power vocals guy
Can you *please* text properly? I don't normally associate with illiterate grade schoolers. (4:36 p.m.)

sender: Lee Howon
Eltst (4:37 p.m.)
Sorry, i mean "elitist" (4:38 p.m.)

sender: power vocals guy
That's an improvement. What's up, though? (4:38 p.m.)

sender: Lee Howon
There are auditions next month. I have a proposition (4:39 p.m.)

~*~

The studio Howon dances in is seven blocks away from where Sunggyu's band normally plays. Woohyun is fairly familiar with the area even if he hasn't been to this specific section of the neighborhood – it's not exactly his scene (not that he's the type to settle for just one scene), but Sunggyu likes the area and Woohyun likes to walk around when he isn't as busy as usual.

The studio itself is underground, connected to the world via shallow stairs hidden behind a door carefully camouflaged by graffiti. Woohyun has to clamp down hard on his claustrophobia as he descended the steps.

He's just glad he told Sunggyu where he's going in case Howon turns out to be a psycho killer who takes out his competition, but then he realizes (too late) that Sunggyu knowing the last place Woohyun went to won't exactly be much help for Woohyun anyway. Not if he's already—

But Woohyun's imagination is oddly disappointed when Howon opens the door and there are no ropes or knives or blunt instruments waiting for them. It's just... an empty room. There's a beat-up old stereo in one corner. A few pictures of people dancing taped to the walls. A few boxes piled on top of each other.

"Who actually owns this place?" is the first thing Woohyun asks as he sets his bag on a rickety wooden bench right beside the door. There's a potted plant at the other end. Woohyun doesn't know what kind it is.

"Don't know," Howon answers with an easy shrug. "My friend said he's been using the place for years and he's never been kicked out. We used to dance here together here all the time, but that was before he moved to Canada. So now it's just me. It's a little rustic but it feels like home sometimes."

"That's one way of putting it."

There's only one mirrored wall and the florescent light is nowhere bright enough and the room easily smells like sweat since the only exhaust is a small window at level with the ground outside, and all in all Woohyun has been to better studios even if he doesn't get to stay in them long enough to matter.

Howon laughs, more at himself than at Woohyun. "Home is where you can play Justin Bieber and not worry about being judged."

But it's here and it's free. And if Woohyun learns how to dance before the next auditions, then maybe...

"I don't have a keyboard," he tells Howon immediately. "So I can't teach you here. But my friend has one at home so I can teach you to sing there."

"That's fine." Howon walks a careful circle around him, his eyes scanning every inch of Woohyun's body. Woohyun would feel self-conscious if it isn't so detached. So clinical. So… appraising. "We've got a lot of work to do."

"What the hell," Woohyun yelps in indignation. "You haven't even seen me dance at all."

"Don't have to," Howon says as he stands beside Woohyun and looks at both of their reflections. "See the difference between us? See how I'm standing versus how you're standing? It's plain as day."

Woohyun bristles. "If you're just going to-"

"I'm here to help you out," Howon interrupts him. "Will you just listen to me? I'm not taking this personally, this is really how I see you as a dancer. Feel free to point out all my flaws when you're teaching me how to sing, but this is dancing and I'm me and you're you, okay?"

Some memories stay fresh and raw too long. Woohyun's worst dreams are always about rejection. It's a reality check he faces in the mirror every day.

"Okay, Mr. Power Vocals?" Howon nudges him.

Howon makes perfect sense. It's the kind of thing Sunggyu would have said. Woohyun takes a deep breath and lets it all out in one steady hiss. "Okay. Let's do this."

The stereo's speakers are loud enough for what they need. Woohyun is just breaking out a sweat when the door opens and a familiar hamster face peers in and squints at them. Beside him, Howon freezes in the middle of the body wave he's teaching Woohyun how to pull off.

Woohyun, on the other hand, jerks his body straight and spins on his heel to face Sunggyu. "Hyung."

Sunggyu raises an eyebrow at him, and somehow Sunggyu manages to look so much more severe than he really should. "Why did you stop? I didn't want to interfere."

"No, I just..." don't want you to see me like this, Woohyun wants to say. Even though Sunggyu knows Woohyun wants to be an idol, Sunggyu hasn't actually seen him do more than pose and strut. There has never been any dancing between them and for good reason.

They're vocalists. It's a mark of pride, even if Woohyun's is negotiable.

He fights down the embarrassment with the knowledge that he and Sunggyu have so many more compromising memories between them. And that Sunggyu isn't the type of person to care about these things. Much.

"Just came to check on you," Sunggyu explains. He opens the door wide, taking in the rest of the studio while Howon tones the music down. "And I might be home late tonight if you're planning on sleeping over. We have to show up at a party after the show but I won't stay too long. Unless you want to come with?"

"I have something to do," Woohyun tells him. "Homework. And Myungsoo has some new stuff I need to learn. This is Howon, by the way."

Howon, though, isn't saying anything. Woohyun catches him looking at the silver infinity symbol Sunggyu is wearing around his neck. Then at the same symbol around Woohyun's wrist. Then... a look of dawning realization.

"So that's your name," Sunggyu says as he stands in front of Howon, and Howon looks up at him with his eyes carefully shuttered. "Are you coming to the show tonight?"

"Yeah," Howon blurts out. "Haven't missed one yet, have I? Won't start now."

"Great. I don't know why you aren't completely sick of us by now but it's not something for me to complain about." Then to Woohyun, "You sure you don't want to come? It's free dinner at least."

"You two know each other?" This time, it's Woohyun's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I'm a big fan," Howon says. "I've been watching every performance since I moved here. I don't know why, though," he adds with a teasing grin. "They haven't released any new material since half a year ago."

"Well aren't you impatient," Sunggyu chuckles as he flicks Howon's forehead with a finger. "Know your place, fan. And we never fail to blow your brains out even with old material. Last call for tonight, Woohyunie."

"I'll pass, hyung."

"I knew I made the right choice in reaching out to you," Howon says as Sunggyu's footsteps fade up the stairs. His laugh is easy and light-hearted but the musician in Woohyun knows that this laugh is forced. "So my favorite co-auditioner happens to be living with my favorite singer. Imagine that. No wonder you have such astounding vocals."

Woohyun bristles at the implication. "Not everything I can do came from Sunggyu-hyung," Woohyun says. There's caution in his voice. Howon hears it and the amusement in his eyes dies down. "You've seriously been watching all their shows?"

"Since I moved from Busan."

Howon is looking at Woohyun's wrist again with an unreadable glint in his eyes... and something in Woohyun stirs. Casually, carefully casually, he hides his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants. The way Howon is looking at the symbol – had looked at the same symbol around Sunggyu's neck – doesn't sit right with Woohyun. "We should get back to dancing."

"Yeah," Howon agrees. He sounds like he's pulling himself out of deep thought. "We should."

Howon is hanging up the last frame when Sunggyu walks into the apartment with this week's groceries in his arms. "And what's that supposed to be?"

"Care to take a guess?" Howon's grin is completely mischievous.

It's possible that Sunggyu is rolling his eyes at him, but it's really hard to tell even during the best of days. "Not right now," he huffs as he heads straight for the kitchen and Howon shakes his head with a full-blown smile. You could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu.

"Does it have anything to do with what day it is?" Sunggyu asks loudly as he puts the groceries away, and by 'groceries' they just mean microwave dinners and the stash of Oreos that Sunggyu claims is for himself but Howon always ends up eating anyway. And milk. But it's mostly microwave dinners. They should probably learn how to cook soon.

"It's always appropriate to celebrate Wednesdays."

"Celebrate it enough to redecorate? Enough to hang seven very nice frames in the living room, all of which has pictures of us?"

Howon's smile is sharp at the edges and is growing wider and wider. "We should always reinvent ourselves and our living space. And thanks, I had to drive across the city just for these frames."

The sound of a drawer being shut. Sunggyu reappears in the living room and leans against their hastily constructed shelf full of Sunggyu's audio engineering textbooks; Howon just hopes the cheap plywood doesn't choose now to break. "So these new pictures – which are all about just the two us, by the way – they have nothing to do with... I don't know, something that happened seven years ago?"

Howon raises his eyebrows in ignorance. He hasn't exactly practiced acting in any way but he knows he has enough control over his face to fake his way through things. "Oh, really? What could have happened on this exact date seven years ago?"

"I don't know. You tell me." Nobody can deadpan quite as flatly as Kim Sunggyu.

Howon throws himself on the couch, bouncing once before settling in and patting the space beside him. Sunggyu does that eye thing again, gives him one of his long-suffering sighs before sitting down and letting himself be wrapped in Howon's arms. "Happy anniversary," Howon whispers to Sunggyu's neck.

"Oh, is that what this is about?" After all these years away from the microphone, Sunggyu's control over his voice is only enough to sound moderately disbelieving. "I thought it was for something, you know, important."

"I can see why you would think that, but nah, it's nothing big." Howon hugs him tighter and just... breathes in, breathes deep. Breathes Sunggyu and holds the air in his chest as long as he can.

"Seven years," Sunggyu trails off. "Imagine that. Seven years since you went crazy."

"Crazy for you, you mean."

"I don't think I can ever mean anything so-"

"Greasy?"

"Amazing, you read my mind." But Sunggyu turns his head and they spend a moment looking into each other's eyes. And fine, it's such a cheesy moment, something straight out of an afternoon soap opera, but cliché is cliché for a reason and just like that Sunggyu is leaning in and kissing Howon as if those seven years were just yesterday. "Happy anniversary, sleezeball."

"I'm the only sleezeball for you."

"Ho-hum," Sunggyu says, but Howon hears it as You know it, and they're quiet again for a while.

This isn't the first time that Howon put his talent for handicrafts to good use. Howon may dance like his body is living off sheer electricity, but home is where his knitting needles can click peacefully all day.

But something in Sunggyu clicks – Howon can feel it through their unspoken connection – and he pulls back, looks into Howon's eyes and there's surprise there. A question. Howon can read it so easily. Not that Sunggyu is so open; it's just the Howon has a lot of practice.

Is this real? Sunggyu's eyes are asking. Is it really... you?

But out loud what Sunggyu says is, "Jagiyah?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you happy?"

Howon hums thoughtfully. "Have I ever complained in seven years?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Then I guess I am."

~*~

"Have you seen my old hard drives? The ones from two years ago?"

Howon freezes the dance video he's studying. Sunggyu is standing by the bedroom door with a handful of old thumb drives and dusty connector cables and a thoroughly frazzled look on his face. It isn't fair how Howon finds it so adorable. "Didn't we stash them in a box somewhere?"

Sunggyu grimaces. "Very helpful."

"No, seriously, I remember putting them in with my stash of-- hard drives."

Howon's pause is just too pregnant with possibilities. "Hard drives?" Sunggyu repeats neutrally.

"Yes," Howon responds equally plainly.

"Hard drives," Sunggyu says again, this time with finger quotes.

"Yeah. Hard drives." Howon studiously doesn't look at Sunggyu's fingers.

Sunggyu nods slowly. "I think I remember cramming a box under the bed when we moved here." He turns on his heel back to the bedroom, but before he realizes what's going on Howon crashes into him, throws him onto the bed and pins him down effortlessly.

"What do you want with my hard drives?" Howon asks, his breath tickling the tip of Sunggyu's nose. (He's been smoking a lot less, Sunggyu notes proudly.) Howon's lips are quirked with the childhood mischief he hasn't quite grown out of yet. "They're very personal hard drives."

And at that, Sunggyu breaks up laughing. "I don't want anything from your hard drives, okay," he wheezes breathlessly. "I'm looking for my old stuff, not whatever it is you're keeping." He lets Howon kiss him deeply. Lets Howon brush his tongue against Sunggyu's. Lets Howon gently nibble at his lower lip.

"Well. In that case." Howon sits back and lets him go.

There aren't that many boxes under the bed. They find the hard drives in a box carefully labeled 'stuff stuff stuff'. Howon used a lot of imagination in labeling their boxes when they moved years ago. ("I'm a dancer, not a writer!" he justified.)

"What's in that thing anyway?" Howon asks. They didn't touch Howon's hard drives.

"Some old mixes for background noise, a few really obscure tracks." He connects the device to his laptop and waits for everything to load. "Plus a few favorite recordings that I haven't used yet. Remember that time you went sky diving and I strapped a mic to your cheek?"

"Vividly."

"Of course," Sunggyu chuckles. "I love that track but I haven't used it anywhere."

Howon's heart still rushes at the memory. He'd have loved for them to jump together but Sunggyu put his foot down while he still had anything to put it down on and Howon didn't push him. Still... it was a rush. "So you've found a use for it now?"

Sunggyu loads the track and plays it long enough to make sure that it's still working before copying the file to his computer. "We're doing a show about falling. I think this will be appropriate. Specially that part where you can hear the wind rushing and everything's noisy and suddenly there's this loud whoosh! when you open the parachute, and then... almost complete silence and there's only you breathing loudly?" Sunggyu's eyes are still on the screen but it's so obvious that he can see so much more. It's like he was right there beside Howon when he was free-falling to the ground. "There's nothing like that. Ever."

Despite working with singers and idols and dancers and technicians and everyone else in the battalion of resources within the entertainment industry, Howon has never met anyone as passionate about sound as Kim Sunggyu. "Good thing I didn't swear, then."

"Small blessings," Sunggyu agrees. "I told the team all about it and they can't wait. They're bringing in this other guy, too. He's doing his graduate degree on memory. So he'll be talking about how memories during heightened emotional states aren't reliable. Can't remember the name, exactly. Nam something?"

Howon's blood runs cold.

"Nam Woolim? Wooyoung? Woo-something."

Howon forces his face to calm down before looking at Sunggyu and he sees exactly what he expects: Sunggyu's eyebrows are scrunched with the effort of remembering.

"Wanna go out for dinner?" Howon says a little too quickly, a little too loudly.

Sunggyu's face crumples slightly as part of his thoughts get derailed. "We have perfectly good food in the fridge."

"Microwave dinners are food, I concede to that, but I don't think I can describe them as 'perfectly good'," Howon points out. "Come on, hyung, can't work on an empty stomach. It wouldn't kill us to eat something healthy every once in a while."

Sunggyu sighs deeply. Howon waits. It doesn't take long: he knows Sunggyu very well, especially after all these years.

"I suppose so," Sunggyu says, defeated. As if health wasn't important until Howon reminded him.

They each grab their coats. The faint memory of the name is gone faster than they're out the door.

~*~

"I don't get it, hyung." Sungjong's exasperation is clear as day, even on the phone. "For years you've been telling everyone that Sunggyu-hyung just wants to be a sound engineer, but now suddenly you want us to quote-unquote scout him?"

"Sungjongie." Howon isn't the type of person to whine, and if he were he certainly isn't the type to whine to a dongsaeng. So this is Howon not-whining at Sungjong. "Come on, you know how talented your Sunggyu-hyung is, you've heard him sing."

"At noraebang!"

"And he's good! And that's just noraebang! Imagine how great he can be with all the training your team can heap on him." Howon is pacing at a corner of the studio while the idols he's training are catching their breaths. So maybe he's a little bit too manic today. Maybe he's too manic to care right now.

Someone from the production team is discussing tomorrow's schedule to various noises of disappointment. Howon tunes them out, even as a lady with a red file case hands out their scripts.

Sungjong hums like he's thinking about it. As if he hasn't said the very same things to Howon in vain hopes that he'll change his mind. "I'll have to check with my team. I mean, we're looking to form an a cappella R&B group and we already have buy-ins from a couple of producers. But I don't think that's Sunggyu-hyung's type of music?"

"You know he can sing anything he wants to."

"I'm not doubting his talent, hyung, I'm doubting how deeply he'll engage to this. You work with idols, right? You know how draining it can be to perform something you don't particularly feel anything for."

Howon pauses at the thought.

"But." Sungjong is so obviously torn between acquiring a tremendous talent to work for them and that talent being his least favorite, completely overbearing hyung. "I'll have to talk to my teammates. We'll see."

"Thanks, Sungjongie! How quickly can you set it up?" Howon is grinning too brightly for the heartless dance master persona that he puts up for his trainees. He'll have to give them hell later. Just to be sure. They should be used to it by now, anyway.

A long-suffering sigh that threatens to match Sunggyu's. "We'll see."

~*~

"So I got a call from Sungjong this afternoon."

"Oh? What did he want?"

"Apparently? Me."

It's one of those moments when they're both tired but not yet spent and they're riding the high as far as it would go. Everything about the world looks nice from up here. They'd been panting, breathless in that way only they can do to each other, and in just a short while they're... quiet. Content. Arms around each other, legs entangled.

Howon raises his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling. "I should probably feel jealous right now, but. It's Sungjong. And I know he doesn't want you that way, not after everything you put him through."

"He wants to sign me up, dumbass!" Sunggyu pinches him in the waist and Howon winces hey, ow! his skin is always a little too sensitive immediately afterward. "Can you believe that?"

"Wow. So suddenly?"

"Apparently they're putting a group together and they're looking for someone with my range." Sunggyu's breathing is deep. Like he wants to capture as much of this as he could, and he doesn't let go for as long as he can. "I told him yes. So there's an interview tomorrow and an audition for formality, then after that it's straight rehearsals, one after another."

"What about your job, though? Not that I'm not happy for you – I know you've always wanted this. But you were also pretty happy working purely with sound."

"I know, I know. But this is singing, Howon. I've already talked to my boss. They're getting one of the other audio guys to replace me on that falling project but I had to promise them that they could use my track even if I'm no longer on it. And I won't be employed as a full headcount so technically I'll still be working for them. That way if this singing thing doesn't pan out I still have a day job to return to." But even if Sunggyu is trying to sound light, his anxiety makes itself known through the quiet timbre of his voice. And the unseen infinity he's tracing on the skin of Howon's arms.

"It'll work out." Howon kisses Sunggyu's chest, wanting to press the reassurance straight into Sunggyu's heart. The Sunggyu Howon knows – and he knows Sunggyu very well – never fails at anything.

And so soon Sunggyu is squirming, gasping, cupping the back of Howon's head. "You sound so sure." He sounds so breathless again.

"I am sure." Howon moves lower, to that spot just below Sunggyu's chest where Sunggyu's so ticklish when they're doing anything else. "It'll work out." Sunggyu arcs up against him, pressing warm bodies together and Howon indulges, works him up slowly, thoroughly, with hands and lips and tongue and breath. Howon guides Sunggyu deep inside and rides him all the way 'til dawn.

He doesn't say a word about how things have already worked out the way he hoped they would.

[next]

home is where the heart is. pt.2 [Infinite]

verocity — Wed, 02 Oct 2013 13:34:36 GMT

[previous]

There's a park a block away from the milk tea store Sunggyu works at.

On most days, Woohyun waits there after school until Sunggyu gets off work. On good days, they can be on their way to Sunggyu's in minutes, Woohyun chattering all the time about sports or songs or any of the successes or failures of the student council in instilling good reading habits among the larger populace. Woohyun, being a library assistant, deems himself an expert and Sunggyu, being a guy who works the cashier and sometimes helps with the inventory, listens to him for no reason at all except that he's Woohyun. If a little bit of honesty can be allowed, Sunggyu would admit that sometimes he does want to strangle Woohyun, but he'll follow him to the edge of the world and back, strangulation notwithstanding. Even if there wouldn't be any moment quiet between them, even if Sunggyu's patience would already be worn so thin by their thirtieth step.

On most other days, though, Sunggyu is held back longer than he officially needs to be to help out with keeping the place clean, keeping stock of inventory, or any of so many other menial things that can take only minutes each one but put them together and that's an hour lost right there. On those days, Woohyun whiles away the time by doing his homework (want has nothing to do with it; if he doesn't, his hyung would give him a stern talking-to and Sunggyu would glare at him until he's done), or listening to their line-up and singing along in his head (until Myungsoo updates them again without telling him), or trying to remember how his prank war with Sungyeol started in the first place (it's just a fact of life by now; they do it because they're Woohyun and Sungyeol).

Today is different.

Today, as Woohyun makes his way to the aged bench he's claimed as his own, he sees Sunggyu waiting for him with a completely bored look in the narrow slit of his eyes and a tiny quirk at the very corner of his lips. Anyone else would be giving a full-blown grin, but not Sunggyu: he can’t ever show that he's pleased. Not to Woohyun.

"You know," Woohyun says with a sigh as he stands right in front of the person he's made it a point to wake up to almost every day, "anybody else would greet me with a smile. Like a real, actual smile. One that I'd think about for days and make me feel all tingly inside? Can't I have someone like that for once?"

He's looking at the infinity symbol dangling loosely from a string of leather around Sunggyu's neck. The two years between then and now doesn't muddle his memory at all. He remembers buying it from a street vendor and tying it around Sunggyu's neck right before one of Sunggyu's shows. Sunggyu had stared at the symbol, had looked into Woohyun's eyes and hadn't said a thing. But then he'd smiled, and he'd looked only at Woohyun through all his songs.

The next day, when Sunggyu came home from the shop and Woohyun was knee-deep in homework, Sunggyu had grabbed Woohyun's hand and wordlessly tied a bracelet of braided leather around Woohyun's wrist, this gift bearing the exact same symbol that Sunggyu was wearing proudly. Woohyun didn't get much homework done that night, and Sunggyu didn't get much rest.

But now, Sunggyu doesn't break eye contact when he pulls a paper bag from his backpack. Even in the open air Woohyun can smell the spicy barbeque sauce. "Unfortunately, all you have is me. I hope I'm worth something, at least."

"I guess I can make do," Woohyun quickly amends.

They don't kiss. Not in public. Not even if Woohyun wants to bury his hands in Sunggyu's hair and make out with him like this, tired and reeking too sweet and almost completely unemotional. Because getting food from Woohyun's favorite restaurant and being at the park earlier than Woohyun means Sunggyu had to work twice as hard before he left so that the store manager would agree to let him go early. And it means working extra hours tomorrow (maybe even for the rest of the week) because Sunggyu is on a very tight budget, what with the flat and school and the band and everything that comes in between.

And all of that? He'll do it all, and so much more, for Woohyun.

They don't talk about it. It's a fact of life. You could always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu, this stoic, perpetually unimpressed person he sits beside now. "What's the occasion?" Woohyun asks but means Thank you. For everything.

And Sunggyu says, "I was bored," but means I'm happy that I have you in my life.

"I could have fed you at home, you know." I don't deserve you. You deserve so much more.

"Shut up and eat," and means Shut up and eat.

And Woohyun does.

Woohyun is almost never silent. He has too many words and he's mastering how to use them. He loves speaking to people. He loves constant communication and trading ideas and affirming that yes, he exists, other people listen to him. But whenever he runs out of words, he always runs to Sunggyu and no one else. And Sunggyu is always there, always standing, always able to shoulder Woohyun's stresses and fears and soothe them until they don't overshadow the hope for a better day.

There's a lady with a red paper bag standing by the pond tearing pieces of bread apart and tossing to the ducks around her feet. For a moment Woohyun wonders if she's watching them, but he blinks and she's laughing as a mallard gnaws at her ankles.

"Your dancing is getting really good."

"You've never actually seen me dance."

"I watch you when you cook sometimes," Sunggyu admits delicately as he chews on some meat. "I see those things you do with your arms. And one time I caught you doing the moonwalk from the fridge to the stove. Not that it's a long walk, but you looked decent doing it."

Not many things can make Woohyun blush, but this is one of them. "I'm learning from someone. He's pretty good, actually."

"You don't seem so friendly with Howon, though. You've never invited him over."

"I have," Woohyun corrects him. You just weren't around. I kind of made sure of that. He takes a swig from their bottle of iced tea. "Not that it matters. Don't you see enough of him during your shows?"

"That isn't the point," says Sunggyu. "He opened his home to you so you could learn how to dance. But it feels like you're just teaching him how to sing in a studio. See the imbalance?"

"It's a trading of skills, not a baring of souls, hyung," Woohyun insists slightly defensively. "And what do you mean 'his home'? It's just some studio he-" Pause.

Sunggyu nods at him, like he knows exactly what Woohyun is thinking of. "Some people aren't as fortunate as others."

Home is where you can play Justin Bieber and not worry about being judged. Such casual words. "I didn't know he meant it literally."

"I didn't really know either," Sunggyu says, grinning this time now that he's sure he isn't the last person to figure it out. "I mean, he joked about it a few times when he hung out with the band, but I didn't piece it together until I saw the studio. It looks... lived in. To say the least."

Woohyun gapes at him, never mind that the goldfish look doesn't look flattering at all. "How can you-- I've been going there three times a week for the past month and I had no idea. But you were there for only a minute and you figured it out?"

"Call it an instinct." Sunggyu sniffs. "We people who keep our own homes? We recognize the signs."

~*~

sender: power vocals guy
I think it's time we take your singing lessons to a whole new level (4:38 p.m.)

sender: Lee Howon
Brng it on (5:01 p.m.)
Wait (5:01 p.m.)
Wat r u tlkn abt (5:01 p.m.)

sender: power vocals guy
I'm saying you better be free tonight, assface (5:02 p.m.)
Meet me in Hongdae. 6pm (5:03 p.m.)
Don't get too worked up, you'll be taking it easy but be ready to have your mind blown(5:03 p.m.)

sender: Lee Howon
WHAT (5:03 p.m.)
M I REDY 4 THS (5:04 p.m.)
U knw wat. Fyn. M gna rap n we'l c hus mind gts blwn (5:10 p.m.)

sender: power vocals guy
Wait. YOU CAN RAP? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME EXPLAIN THIS RIGHT NOW (5:11 p.m.)

sender: Lee Howon
T ws fun wtchn u mke a ful of urslf (5:13 p.m.)

~*~

"It's not enough that we practice singing in private," Woohyun is saying a few hours later. "You told me that dancing and performing are completely different things, right? Well, singing also works that way. Now watch. And learn."

Thursday night finds Woohyun and Myungsoo at an outdoor table at a quiet little coffee shop with mismatched cups and chairs and walls painted the boldest colors that they can imagine. Woohyun is breathing deeply and calming his throat down while Myungsoo is giving his guitar one last wipe through before tucking it back in its carrying case. Their coffee is on the house.

"You guys were amazing up there," Howon says as he makes his way over.

Woohyun is still manic from the applause. The audience was small but they made up for it with enthusiasm. "I guess we were okay." He grins and examines his fingernails with flair while Myungsoo shoots a dirty look at him.

"You haven't known Woohyun-hyung for long, have you?" Myungsoo sniffs. "Learn this: if you're going to praise him, make sure it's over the top. Anything less than that and he'll wallow in insecurity before going to sleep."

Woohyun gapes at Myungsoo in exaggerated disbelief. "That is so not tru-youch!!" The yelp of pain is thanks to Myungsoo scrunching his nose, reaching below the table and yanking hard at a strand of hair from Woohyun's leg. Woohyun grimaces quietly and rubs the patch of skin.

"So that's how you shut him up," Howon laughs and pats Myungsoo on the back. "I like you. I think we'll be very good friends." They shake hands to Woohyun's very venomous yet wordless glare.

But Sungyeol spins a chair backward between his abnormally long legs before things escalate any further. "So I've got some news. You want the good news or the bad news first?" He'd been talking to the store manager since the last song.

"Awww, there's bad news?" Woohyun groans. Myungsoo is frowning at Sungyeol with an eyebrow raised, and Howon has that look in his eyes that most guys get around people as tall as Sungyeol, that glint of guardedness like he's shrinking back despite himself. "Why does there have to be bad news, can't we just stick to the good news?"

"You are ruining how this goes," Sungyeol nearly snaps, exasperated. "When someone says something like that, you're supposed to ask for the bad news, okay?"

"But I hate bad news-"

"What's the bad news?" Myungsoo asks to get things over with, which then incites Woohyun's affront.

"I am this close to pulling hyung privileges here-"

"Who, the shortest of us?" Sungyeol jumps in despite himself. He never could resist verbal sparring.

Myungsoo peers critically at the top of Woohyun's head, then at Howon's. He blinks and announces, "I think Howon-hyung is shorter th-"

But Woohyun cuts him off. Pointedly. "I may be shorter but I can still kick your ass. Or that sad posterior of yours where your ass should be if you had any." The message is crystal clear: Howon doesn't count.

"The bad news is that from now on," Sungyeol powers on as he holds off Woohyun's attempts to clamp a hand over his mouth, "your Tuesday and Thursday nights aren't free anymore."

Woohyun's vehemence dies down visibly. "Wait. Wait."

The other three look at each other. Woohyun doesn't say anything for a few more seconds. "How long do we have to wait?" Howon prompts.

"Wait," Woohyun repeats with an index finger raised at Howon. "That doesn't sound so bad?"

"That's why you should have let me finish-"

"Why can't you just tell us like a normal person-"

"I figured it out, though," Myungsoo informs Howon as the other two get into a debate full of hisses and name-calling. "Sungyeol isn't the type to sugarcoat real bad news. He'll just tell you upfront."

"It's really unfortunate that he's the hyung, isn't he?" Howon's knowing nod pleases Myungsoo greatly. "I don't know how Sunggyu-hyung puts up with him."

"He has his endearing qualities."

"Does he?" Howon asks before he realizes that Myungsoo didn't say a thing.

"I take it things went well." Sunggyu is standing right behind them with his hands in his pockets and a beanie askew on his head. "Since Woohyun isn't moping and Myungsoo is actually talking."

"It was okay," Woohyun says just as Howon breaks out into a grin and gushes "They were great!" Woohyun glares at him, but if Howon noticed he doesn't show it. Woohyun doesn't like the look on his face.

"Aren't you supposed to be rehearsing right now?" Woohyun follows up.

"One of the guys had to beg off early. There's no point in practicing if we aren't complete. The music sounds awful without the bass anyway." The way Sunggyu shrugs is perfectly nonchalant, but it's the exactness that tips Woohyun off: Sunggyu wanted to be around to celebrate. "So I was thinking maybe we could just go somewhere?"

Myungsoo frowns as he packs his guitar into its case. "Yeol and I are hungry. So please say we're going out for dinner."

"Isn't it cute how Sungyeol doesn't actually have a say in anything?" Woohyun observes, and Sungyeol lunges at him.

~*~

They don't actually go out for dinner.

They end up cramming themselves in Sunggyu's apartment after a brief reality check that, yes, they're all still students, and though they're more independent than most that also means they have to allocate their limited resources more responsibly than they'd like.

They end up splitting into two: Woohyun volunteers to tidy up the flat, Myungsoo has pictures to edit and it goes without saying that Sungyeol has to be around to offer critiques because he's the only one Myungsoo listens to. Howon and Sunggyu agree to stop by the grocery store down the corner and get creative with the communal budget.

Woohyun doesn't anxiously watch their backs as they turn the corner.

He tries to quiet the voices inside his head by touching the symbol on his leather bracelet. Sunggyu hasn't promised him forever – in fact, the only thing Sunggyu ever promised to him was that he'll do his best not to go crazy.

All this is idle wondering. No wonder Sunggyu always advised looking for something to do with his hands.

Woohyun tosses the left-overs into a pot and tries to figure out how to make it taste fresh again. A little bit of love and a whole lot of chili sauce can fix almost everything.

The flat is really too small to have any form of privacy; the only thing separating the kitchen from the living room is a stretch of imagination. "Hey, this is a good shot," Myungsoo says from the couch where he's hunched over his laptop. "I didn't know you had it in you, Yeolie."

"I've been living with you for years. It's only natural that I pick up some skills."

Sungyeol had once said that home is where he could accept that he's a failure at some things but feel indispensable at others. Woohyun has never figured out why he doesn't just say 'Home is Myungsoo'.

"By osmosis, you mean?" Woohyun hoots at them. If he does end up making the 'casserole' too spicy, it's only because he loves them enough to spare them from the awkward flavor.

Myungsoo's legs are on Sungyeol's lap. It really shouldn't be enough to pin Sungyeol down, but then Myungsoo is a lot stronger than he looks. Sungyeol's struggles to get to his feet don't go anywhere. "Please come over here so I can strangle you."

If later tonight Woohyun adds too much spice to Sungyeol's bowl, it's only because Woohyun is just too fond of him.

"No, seriously hyung, come look at this." Myungsoo twirls the laptop so Woohyun can see it. "You could use this as a profile shot or something."

It's a picture of Woohyun from earlier tonight. He's on stage and he's belting into the microphone and the light catches his features just right to contour the edges of his face into something sharper, fiercer, more mature.

But the moment of narcissism is short-lived. Woohyun finds his eyes drawn to the customer (audience?) at the corner of the photo. A lady in a red tank top and a sprig of pink flowers plaited neatly into her hair. She has a coffee cup raised daintily to her lips as she watches Woohyun with a very familiar expression on her face. It's the same look Woohyun saw on Howon when Sunggyu checked up on them unannounced during their first dance lesson. And earlier tonight, when Sunggyu snuck up on them and Howon was opening up to their little band of misfits.

Hunger. Intense desire. Yearning.

And now that his brain is gathering momentum—

–she nodded at him as he left the auditorium–

–an earlier photo where she's looking at a teacup–

–she was watching them at the park, Woohyun didn't imagine it–

"Hey, Myungsoo. Who's this?"

Myungsoo squints at the screen. "Who? That... girl at the corner? I don't know. Just someone, I guess? Does she matter?"

"Don't you have another picture of her? The dildo pic?"

"So you agree with me!" crows Sungyeol.

Myungsoo flushes red and glares at Woohyun. "Hyung, I told you, it's an African artifact of fertility, don't listen to-"

Woohyun glances over his shoulder before he masters the impulse and chides himself. They're not in public. They're in Sunggyu's flat. Sunggyu's flat is safe. There's no one else here.

He's not being followed. Right. Right. He's not being watched. Not here. They're waiting for Sunggyu and Howon to come back with food so Woohyun can cook- why aren't they here already anyway? What was taking them so long?

Why does the flat feel so small all of a sudden?

"Hyung, not that I'm actually concerned about you or anything," though Sungyeol does seem worried as he pushes Myungsoo's legs aside, "but you look... kind of pale. Should I get you-"

"I'm fine," Woohyun snaps. Sungyeol raises his hands to placate him and sits back down slowly. Woohyun forces himself to breathe in, breathe deep. Calm down. Don't make a big deal of this. "I just... need some air, okay?"

Now even Myungsoo looks concerned. That never happens. "Sure. We'll just be here, hyung."

Woohyun doesn't realize how bad an idea it is until he's already out the door and heading down the stairs.

They don't notice him. They're clearly preoccupied, what with Howon's hand gently touching Sunggyu's cheek.

~*~

sender: Lee Howon
Tnx 4 d fud. I ddnt knw u cud cook. Y r u gr8 at evrytng? ( 11:43 p.m.)
Oditns on satrdy, ait? Prctis wel r I'm kickn ur ass. (11:57 p.m.)
Powr vcals-hyung? (12:03 a.m.)
Woohyun...? (12:08 a.m.)

Woohyun locks his phone and buries his head under the pillow. He can shut away the sound of Sunggyu's wheezy breathing, but the voices in his head telling him he's not enough are there to stay.

"Is this it? Is this the last one?" Howon asks enthusiastically. There's a roll of packaging tape around his wrist and he's wiping sweat and dust off his face using an even sweatier and dustier hand towel. In another life it's still possible to imagine the loose shirt he's wearing as having been white once upon a time. Sunggyu probably shouldn't find him so hot right now. "Are we actually ready to move out? Is this the real life?"

They've been packing for days and they still find it hard to believe that they have so much stuff, and then even harder that this flat – this tiny, cramped thing that Sunggyu has been calling home for years – was able to hold it all in. "Did I actually have the money to buy all these things? Did I actually have the space?" Sunggyu wonders, surveying all the boxes that Howon generously labeled as 'stuff', 'more stuff', 'arts and stuff', and other variations of the theme. Howon has a lot of imagination. "Man. I must have been a packrat in my previous life."

Howon snorts indiscreetly. "What do you mean 'previous life'?"

Sunggyu glares at him. And when Sunggyu expresses any emotion through his eyes, Howon has to fight hard to keep himself from breaking out in laughter. "Was that a joke on my face? It sounds like a joke on my face."

Howon stalks towards Sunggyu and snakes his arm around Sunggyu's waist. "I'm just saying," he explains as he leans in, "that you kind of tend to hoard things. Haven't you noticed?"

"You're sweaty and you stink."

"I smell like a man."

"A man who doesn't bathe." Sunggyu scrunches his nose, then leans in and pecks Howon on the lips. "Don't distract me, we have to finish packing."

"I thought we already did." But Howon lets go and looks around them. Everything is in boxes. The whole flat smells like dust and cardboard. "Sungjong should be here in an hour to help us move."

Sunggyu squints at him in disbelief. "Sungjongie? He's the friend who's going to help us? Howon-ah, his arms are thinner than mine!"

"He'll be bringing some friends along, don't worry about it. And his dad's pickup truck."

Howon starts piling the boxes near the door. Some bedroom stuff. Books and stuff. Other bedroom stuff. Stuff that needs careful handling. "Is this really all?" he hears Sunggyu mutter faintly.

"Huh?" Sunggyu is standing in the alcove that used to be the kitchen, staring at the wall where there had once been a stove. There's that look on his face again, the one that makes him look so small and scared. Not the Sunggyu that Howon knows, the person who commands the stage the moment there's a microphone in his hands.

For Sunggyu, as Howon figured out over the years, home is where he doesn't have to act like he's invincible.

"What do you mean?" Howon follows up when Sunggyu doesn't answer.

"I just... I can't stop thinking that there should be more." He turns and their eyes meet, and suddenly Sunggyu's eyes widen in surprise. Like he's expecting someone else to be standing there, but it's Howon instead and Sunggyu throws all his defenses up.

Howon keeps himself completely still. It's been happening less and less frequently, and Sunggyu has more control of himself now.

It takes a second for Sunggyu to relax and lower his guard again. Like he remembering belatedly that, oh yeah, Howon lives here now. And they're packing. And moving soon. The walls around Sunggyu go slowly down and Sunggyu grins embarrassed at him. "Sorry, I... don't know what I was thinking."

"You think too much," Howon teases. He takes Sunggyu's hand and presses a marker to his palm. "Go label the other boxes. Do something. It's just jitters, okay? You've lived here for so long and you can't believe you're actually going to leave and you don't know if the new place is going to work." Howon taps a finger against the tip of Sunggyu's nose. "It happens to everyone. I felt that way when I left Busan."

There's a tiny smile quirking at the corners of Sunggyu's lips. "That's completely different."

"Oh yeah? I don't know, it feels exactly the same."

They continue in companionable silence, Howon pushing boxes around so they can pile them easier on the truck and Sunggyu keeping himself occupied because he doesn't like it when Howon worries about him. Heck, he doesn't even like himself when he's like this, so full of manic energy and he has no idea where it all comes from.

By the time Sungjong and his friends arrive, Sunggyu has covered one of the boxes in scribbles of infinity and he doesn't know why.

They meet again, even if they don't tell each other anything. It isn't a surprise at this point.

"Hey. 914."

Woohyun doesn't look up. He'd know that voice anywhere. He'd know this rage anywhere.

"What's wrong?" Howon sits beside him and leans an elbow against his knee. "Nerves acting up again? Come on, you can dance great now. Well, better than you used to anyway but at least it's something."

"Stay away from me."

"Hyung, what the-"

"Stay away from me," Woohyun growls. He raises his head and looks Howon straight in the eyes. Howon doesn't flinch, but he sits back and his shoulders tense and all the nervous friendliness on his face disappears without a trace. "Stay away from us," Woohyun continues quietly. "Don't make me have to hurt you."

Howon nods slowly, understands easily. "This is about me liking Sunggyu?"

"Like you fucking have to ask-"

"Talk to Sunggyu-hyung," Howon interrupts him. He stands up and makes to leave, but before he takes his first step he turns back and says over his shoulder, "You're very lucky to have him. I'm sorry. And. Thank you. For all the help."

Woohyun watches the back of Howon's head until he's lost in the crowd.

~*~

He can't even sing properly, not with all this tension.

Woohyun doesn't need the judges to say anything. He hands back his audition number and shows himself out.

~*~

He's supposed to wait for Sunggyu at the park. He doesn't expect someone else to be waiting for him instead.

There's a lady in red sunglasses sitting on his bench. Woohyun refrains from pointing out that the sun is setting, that it's going to be dark soon.

There is this feeling of being in the right place at the right time. Woohyun had trusted it once, when he sat behind the library counter and catalogued the books Sunggyu was checking out. A first meeting of sorts.

"You've been watching me," Woohyun says as he sits beside her.

"Yes," she answers. Her voice is low. Sultry. Refined.

"Who are you?"

The lady raises her graceful hands and takes of her sunglasses.

Woohyun draws back slowly, his instinct to freak out and run to Sunggyu and cower in his safety stifled by some unknown reassurance that if he goes to Sunggyu, it would all be over. It doesn't make sense, but-

They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. Woohyun is sitting beside a woman who has no eyes.

Or more aptly, instead of eyes Woohyun finds himself staring into the black of night so deep and pure that that he, raised in the light pollution of Seoul, wonders if she's even seen the sun. There are stars in her eyes, entire constellations that he's never seen in this vivid detail before, unclouded and not outshone.

"I," she says, "am the million to one chance." She closes her hands. There is no flash, no sparkle, no outward display that anything changed, but when she opens them again her right hand has a symbol of infinity sown into a bracelet and her left has the same symbol tied to a length of leather string.

Woohyun can recognize those things anywhere. His hand flies to his wrist and feels the reassuring coarseness of old leather and the cooler metal tied to it. But there is no room for relief just yet. Not when she's involving Sunggyu in this. "I thought you've only been stalking me."

"There is so much more to this than just you and dear Sunggyu. You two are merely points in a very complicated, very interesting line. There is infinity before and infinity after, but for now... let's say that I am concerned only with you."

"What-"

"Woohyun, have you ever wondered about the statistics behind the concept of soulmates? Consider this: there are seven billion people alive in the world at this very moment, which is barely a tenth of the number of people who have ever lived. A hundred billion souls since the beginning of your species! What do you think are the odds that you and your soulmate would be born in the same era, much less within an acceptable range of years that would allow for a bonding of souls to happen? What are the odds that two souls from this seething heap of humanity would be born so close to each other that they can meet in a context that will give them the right choices?

"Well. I am those odds. I am the million to one chance."

Woohyun's brain is screaming at his body to stand up and get away now, this crazy woman doesn't have to take their time, he can run to Sunggyu's shop and explain that they're being stalked and they can just meet up somewhere else... but it's like his body has been hijacked and the commands from his brain are getting lost along the way. His body isn't moving no matter how hard his fight or flee instinct (flee, definitely flee) is going haywire. "I don't believe in cheesy shit," he says, and it's the only thing he can do.

"I am here to help," she answers. "Do you want to live the rest of your life feeling that you don't deserve him? Kim Sunggyu is destined for great happiness. To you and many others, Kim Sunggyu is already so much further along the development of his potential. He needs someone who will not be paralyzed with jealousy at his every success. He needs someone who doesn't constantly worry if they deserve each other. Are you that person, Nam Woohyun? Can you say that much?"

Woohyun's thoughts freeze at that.

She twirls the necklace emblem around her fingers. "I am offering you the chance to make things right. I am giving you the opportunity to... develop yourself. To live a life apart from Kim Sunggyu, and to find him again when you have finally become someone he will be proud to love. The two of you beat the odds once before. And odds, beaten once, can be beaten again; love, once found, is never lost."

The lady brings her hands together. When she pulls them back, there is a sprig of tiny pink flowers held delicately in her fingers. "This is Lethe's bramble. This is my gift to those who, for all their reasons, need to start again." She places it in Woohyun's numb hands-

"Yah! Nam Woohyun!"

Woohyun jerks awake to Sunggyu's face inches from his own, Sunggyu shaking his shoulders hard. "Hyung," he stammers, standing up quickly.

"Honestly, if you're this tired, you could have just gone home." Sunggyu doesn't nag much anymore, but when he does it's always whenever Woohyun is keeping himself second class.

Woohyun wants to tell him that it's fine, it's just a rough day, and he's nowhere near as tired as Sunggyu is. But he looks at Sunggyu and remembers Howon's hand touching his cheek. Remembers Sunggyu looking surprised but not bothered at the contact. Remembers Sunggyu not saying a thing about it while they cooked, while they ate and drank and joked about Sungyeol and Myungsoo's inevitable wedding, while they cleaned up after the others left. While Woohyun stared at the dark completely unable to sleep, waiting for Sunggyu to say something until their alarm blared and it's time to make breakfast.

"Come on, hyung," he just says instead and starts walking. "I have to cook dinner." Sunggyu looks like he has more to say, but he blinks, wrong-footed, and just follows.

They're three steps outside the park when Woohyun realizes that there's a sprig of pink flowers caught in the leather braids of his bracelet.

Life as a back-up dancer isn't exactly what Howon wants but he can admit that it has some perks. No cramped dorms for one thing. No crazed fans following him around. The pay could be better and he doesn't have admirers to give him gifts to make up for it, but in the end he gets to drop by Sunggyu's for dinner almost every night and that pretty much seals the deal.

He slams the front door open and yells, "Hands up! I've got ramyun and I'm not afraid to use it!" He doesn't get a reaction.

Sunggyu is studying in the kitchen, his earphones on and the music is playing loud enough for even Howon to hear. He's supposedly buried in a pile of sound theory textbooks laid open on every available surface, but Howon knows that right now Sunggyu is reading the inside of his own head.

He reaches over and pulls the earphones off from behind, and Sunggyu jerks around in surprise. "You'll go deaf too early if you continue listening to music this loud," Howon scolds him patiently. They've had this conversation often enough.

"Sorry, I was just," but whatever Sunggyu was just he doesn't say, ends the sentence with a loud sigh and a passive shrug.

"I brought dinner." That isn't a surprise, either. Sunggyu almost never remembers to eat. Howon always comes over to make sure he does. He pulls bowls and chopsticks from the kitchen cabinet, pushes a few of Sunggyu's books aside to make room on the table and serves the ramyun and pickled radishes. "Come on, hyung. Let's eat before this gets cold."

"I can take care of myself, you know," Sunggyu admonishes him, and this too they've talked about so many times.

"I know, hyung. I just want to make sure you can continue taking care of yourself." A short pause while Howon grabs a couple of water bottles from the fridge. Any second now Sunggyu would say something about paying Howon back for all these meals someday, something-

"Do you ever feel like there's a great big hole in the stuff you can remember?" Sunggyu asks quietly.

-definitely not like that.

This isn't part of their careful script. Howon feels justified in blinking owlishly at Sunggyu, like he hasn't spent every waking hour trying to memorize everything there was to know about the guy. "What brings this about?"

"I don't know," Sunggyu says, bowing his head and burying his fingers in his hair. Howon's been trying to get him to cut it short again, but Sunggyu insists that he feels like a change. "There's this voice in my head. I'm trying to remember whose it is but... it's like some old TV and the audio is perfect but the video static is too bad to make anything out."

"What's it saying?" Howon asks, feeling slightly foolish. "That... voice in your head."

"Something about-" Sunggyu looks lost, like it never crossed his mind to listen to the words in the first place, like the voice is what's important "-how the future is very bright. I think? I'm not sure. And a one in a million chance?"

"Are you... sure you're not thinking about the lottery?"

Sunggyu narrows his eyes at him and for a moment he looks like he wants to strangle Howon, but the next moment his face turns from irritated to amused hamster trying not to laugh. But he grabs one of his textbooks and throws it at Howon, who catches it at the last instant with affront written all over his face. "Sunggyu-sshi, may I remind you that we are in the kitchen and there is food on the table? This is not the time to be horsing around!"

"I was having a moment! Why are you so irreverent?" Sunggyu grabs another book and makes to throw it, and Howon hides behind the one he already has in his hands.

Howon sneaks around the table, holding the book between them like it's the key to non-violence, until he's right behind Sunggyu. "Isn't that why you like me so much? Admit it." He peeks above the book and sees Sunggyu watching him with amusement in those beady eyes.

"Yeah. I guess. I mean, there has to be a reason I keep letting you in here," Sunggyu admits, setting his impromptu projectile down. "I just have these weird moments sometimes. Like. I feel there should be someone else living here. But then I remember that I've always lived here alone. And it's not like the place is spacy—heck it's barely even big enough for me. But. I don't know. It feels like there's space for one more. Space for someone else who can stand..."

"A lack of privacy?" Howon asks.

"Well, that. And me." Sunggyu laughs. Carefully self-conscious and sudden enough that it almost throws Howon off the trail, away from the baring of weakness just seconds before. "I can be a handful. I don't know if anyone has ever found out, though. I can be hell to live with."

"Are you..." Howon raises an eyebrow. He can't believe where this is going. "... asking me to move in with you?"

"The place is kind of small," Sunggyu repeats quickly. "You've seen it. We'll have to share a room but I already have an extra bed so that part works out. And I tend to have nightmares, okay? And there's no space for you to dance-"

Howon cuts him off by pressing a finger against Sunggyu's lips. They could be baring souls or they could be looking at new beginnings and it wouldn't matter; he can always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu. "I'd love to live with you, hyung. Despite the lack of space. Or the nightmares."

"Maybe until we can afford somewhere bigger."

"Like an actual apartment? And maybe we can turn a bedroom into a studio? Since we'll be so used to rooming together by then anyway."

"Or maybe a house. With a basement. But that's so far into the future. With a front lawn, even."

"Where we can have parties! And I'd love to have a dog."

Sunggyu smiles at him. At them. At the image of Howon with a husky in his arms. At the thought that Howon has already seen him when he was delirious with the flu, and he's still here so maybe he'll still be around when Sunggyu gets really sick again and needs somebody to look after him. At this moment when he's learning that maybe baring who he is isn't so bad, weaknesses and all, if the one looking at him is someone he can trust.

Howon, Sunggyu thinks, is so handsome when he's happy. Like right now. Maybe forever. Maybe Sunggyu could even be part of it.

Well. That would be nice.

The first time they met, Woohyun had been two sessions into a pilates course when Sunggyu walked into the library smelling of burnt sugar and assorted mochi. Woohyun raised an eyebrow to distract himself from the sudden rumbling of his stomach. He was feeling the first signs of sugar withdrawal – heck, junk food withdrawal and he was ready to gnaw on the first thing the smelled even remotely unhealthy.

Thinking back on it, he supposed it might have been a sign. Or his brain may have been reeling at the lack of fuel and fixated on the first locatable source in days, even if it was this upperclassman in tragic animal-print clothes and jeans that had seen better days.

"No food or drink in the library, please," Woohyun said with an almost perfect librarian's frown.

"I don't have any on me," Sunggyu replied with narrowed eyes. Woohyun wasn't sure how he could tell – call it a hunch.

Woohyun had looked him up and down then, his eyes carefully searching for suspicious lumps along Sunggyu's clothes that could be contraband in hiding. Nobody ever claimed to bring anything in, but that can't be true because Woohyun always finds candy wrappers in the trash when he's closing the building.

"I'll be watching you," Woohyun had said sharply.

"If you say so." Sunggyu's answering nod was very carefully stoic.

That had been followed by Sunggyu borrowing one book a day, and Woohyun had tried to figure out which classes this mysterious Kim Sunggyu was taking, but the book choices were too random and sometimes too useless. Once, when Sunggyu was distracted by a classmate, Woohyun snuck a coupon for some free jasmine milk tea from the local student combine into the front page of How to Achieve Transcendence in an Amphibian Literary Environment. Randomness: Sample D.

When returned a week later, the coupon was still there.

So he didn't read the books, Woohyun thought. Or maybe he just didn't like milk tea?

Which was followed by Why am I even paying attention?

It definitely wasn't for his good looks ("Hamster-nim", Sungyeol had called him, which was three degrees of respect higher than Myungsoo's "Whatshisface", and for a moment Woohyun felt prouder than ever of his choice of friends).

Maybe it was with how Sunggyu carried himself with a form of quiet dignity that had nothing to do with his fascinating preference for animal-print anything. Maybe it was how Sunggyu seemed tired all the time, but fine, whatever, he still carried on like being tired was beneath him. Woohyun, rejected thrice from his idol dreams and working hard not to drown in his inadequacy, had found Sunggyu's self-assurance endearing. It might be nice, Woohyun had thought, to learn a thing or two.

The circumstance that changed I want to be like him to I want to like him was when – in a moment filled with telling himself that he wasn't technically stalking Sunggyu – he pulled up the call numbers of all the books Sunggyu recently borrowed and realized that the first digits spelled out a phone number clear as day.

sender: (unknown number)
I'm on to you. –A Somewhat Intrigued Librarian (3:20 p.m.)

sender: Kim Sunggyu
Took you long enough, Mr. Librarian. (3:23 p.m.)

sender: An Intrigued Librarian
I told you I'd be watching (3:24 p.m.)

Sender: Kim Sunggyu
I was counting on it. (3:24 p.m.)

After a week of messages that steadily grew more personal, Sunggyu gave him an address in Hongdae without any explanation and Woohyun had gone anyway, dragging Myungsoo and Sungyeol with him. What they found was a small gathering of kids around their age screeching along to a rock song lead by none other than- "Hey, isn't that Hamster-nim?" Sungyeol observed right before Woohyun jabbed an elbow to his stomach. Myungsoo just quietly snapped a picture.

They went out for dinner after the show. And in between Sunggyu telling customer horror stories from the milk tea shop ("So that's why you didn't take the coupon," Woohyun exclaimed proudly) and humoring Sungyeol on the finer points of the decline of entertainment ("Before you satisfy the audience, you have to satisfy the executives," Sungyeol had scoffed), Woohyun realized that I want to like him had somehow turned into I want him.

And on their way back to their homes, at the corner where Sunggyu had to turn right and they had to turn left, Sunggyu had said, "It's not that I don't like books," and Woohyun wondered why Sunggyu brought up something so random just before saying goodnight, "but I'm kind of getting tired of hanging out in the library just to see you."

"I really don't think you have time for anyone at all," Woohyun pointed out.

"Don't worry about that, I'll take care of it," Sunggyu answered breezily. And he had.

A week later, Sungyeol was already sick of Woohyun talking about nobody else all the time while Myungsoo endured it all with a quiet, knowing smile.

A month after that, Sunggyu was no longer living alone.

~*~

"Are you sleeping over at your hyung's?" Sunggyu's voice is tinny coming from Woohyun's phone.

"No."

"Are you sleeping over at Sungyeol's?"

"Technically it's Myungsoo's since it's his name on the lease. And no."

"Then why aren't you home?"

"You can't really afford to waste cellphone minutes on non-emergencies, hyung. I'll be there."

"I'll wait for you."

"It's late and you're tired. Go to sleep, Sunggyu."

"No. I'll wait for you."

~*~

The funny thing about Sunggyu is that he never asks about where Woohyun is or who he's with. It's like he's so completely, absolutely sure that those details are peripheral. They are WooGyu (as Sungyeol branded them during a night of too much soju) and that's all he needs to know.

One hour of sitting on his bench at the park all alone at night is enough for Woohyun to realize three things: that displays of confidence do not always mean strength, that Sunggyu has never been anyone less than Sunggyu whenever they're together, and that Woohyun really does not know how to handle pity.

It takes less than a minute for his mind to jump to another conclusion: Howon gets things done while Woohyun just waits for opportunities.

It takes less than a second for one final thought to crystalize from everything else: compatibility does not necessarily mean mutual growth.

He arrives at the flat to Sunggyu passed out on the couch with his guitar still in his arms. He sighs, carefully puts the guitar away, and curls up on the couch with his head on Sunggyu's lap.

He wakes up in his bed and thinks, "What am I going to do with you?"

The door to Sunggyu's flat opens at the lightest push. Howon is alarmed. Woohyun always keeps the door locked.

"Woohyun?" he calls out. Not that he needs to. The apartment is too small for anyone to get lost in. He's one step past the door and already he can see into the kitchen. The bathroom light is out. "Sunggyu-hyung? Are you guys home?"

No answer. The bedroom door is closed. It's the one place he's never been inside of, out of respect for Woohyun's and Sunggyu's privacy. But if someone has been inside and left the door unlocked... And then there was Woohyun's message from last night—what did he mean, anyway? Where was he going?

"Hyung?" Howon knocks on the bedroom door. There's a soft ruffle from inside, heavy thumps as feet hit the floor hard, and the door opens to show Sunggyu, his eyes blinking blearily. Howon catches a faint waft of stale air from inside, the unmistakable smell of ill health.

"Howon? What are you doing here?" Sunggyu croaks and that's it, Howon decides, Sunggyu has never sounded like this, ever, not even after he had to sing in the open air during last year's winter thanksgiving festival.

"I'll get you some soup, okay?" Howon says quickly, touching his wrist to Sunggyu's forehead and yup, he's burning up. "Or is Woohyun-hyung there? Something homemade would definitely be better-"

"Who?" Sunggyu opens the door the rest of the way. "Sorry, I'm just. Not feeling so great right now." He tries to step out, but either he stumbles on his feet or his knees give in, all Howon knows is that Sunggyu is suddenly pitching forward and he has to scramble to catch him. Sunggyu is too hot everywhere, his skin too sticky with dried sweat to be anything but dire.

Howon half-carries him back to his bed and gently helps him lie back down. There's a sprig of pink flowers on Sunggyu's shirt. Howon plucks it off and throws it in the trash bin beside Sunggyu's plastic dresser. That's when he notices that the bedroom looks... surprisingly barren compared to the rest of the flat. There's clutter all over the place, sure, because Sunggyu's a bit of a hoarder, but Woohyun usually has snacks and books hidden everywhere, even under the couch and it makes sense that he'll stash them here as well. But there's nothing here that could be Woohyun's, no clue that it's not just Sunggyu who lives here. But it makes sense, since Woohyun did say... "Where's Woohyun-hyung?" Howon checks the other bed. It definitely looks slept on.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Sunggyu replies in between coughs. "You should stay away, Howon. I don't want you to catch this."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Howon practically snaps then immediately feels bad. Sunggyu is very sick. It's okay for him to lose it every once in a while. He takes deep breaths and calms the building panic in his head that Sunggyu is, again, very sick. "Woohyun-hyung. The guy you've been living with for years." The guy you wouldn't trade me for.

"Are you sure you're not the one who's sick?" Sunggyu tries to sit up, but Howon gently pushes him back down. "You're rambling nonsense. I've been living alone since I got this apartment. Didn't I ask you to move in twice?"

"I..." You didn't, Howon wants to say. You've been so solidly in love with Woohyun that you never even saw me. I wanted to give you everything. But it turns out you already had it.

Now is really not the time to think these thoughts, Howon scolds himself. Sunggyu is sick. And if Woohyun isn't around to help then it's up to Howon to help him through. "Sure, sorry. I was confused. You've been living alone all this time."

Howon has only ever taken care of himself and his approach to sickness is always to just sleep it off, but that doesn't mean he hasn't hoped someone would take care of him during those days. Someone to press a cold towel against his head. Or peel off his shirt when it's slick with sweat. Or maybe just get him some soup.

Howon nods gamely. That's a start.

Although, if he doesn't remember Woohyun...

It's only when he's wiping Sunggyu's arms clean with a wet towel does he untie the leather string around Sunggyu's neck.

~*~

sender: (unknown number)
Hyung, wr r u? Sunggyu's sik n i dnt knw hw 2 mk sup ( 9:36 a.m.)
Gdi hyung i sed i ws sori oky wl u fukn ansr alrdy (9:39 a.m.)
Fyn. B dat way. (9:45 a.m.)

~*~

The door opens after his seventh knock.

Myungsoo glaring daggers at anyone is a sight to behold. "Who the fuck are you?" His hair is tussled and there are blanket marks all over his face. Howon can forgive the delayed recognition and the grumpiness for now.

"Is Woohyun here?"

Myungsoo nods slowly, suspiciously. "You'd better answer this time. Who are you? And why are you looking for Woohyun-hyung?"

"Myungsoo, don't you-" but clearly Myungsoo doesn't. Or is pretending not to know him. After a morning with Sunggyu in his delirium, Howon is a lot more open to just saying things to get what he needs. A change of approach is called for. "Woohyun is a friend from auditions. We're supposed to be practicing a dance today but he didn't show up."

Myungsoo blinks at him several times before nodding, not satisfied but definitely less suspicious. "Woohyun-hyung is sick. He really shouldn't be going anywhere right now."

"I just want to make sure he's okay," Howon insists.

"Who is it?" another voice asks from inside. Howon sees Sungyeol over Myungsoo's shoulders.

Maybe it's the plain worry on Howon's face that convinces Myungsoo, or maybe it's the assurance that there's two of them and one of him, but he steps back and lets Howon inside. One of the mattresses is splayed on the living room floor. "We had to turn one the bedroom into a quarantine zone," Sungyeol explains. "We're pretty sure it isn't contagious but it always pays to be safe."

Whereas looking at a sick Sunggyu pulled at Howon's heart, looking at a sick Woohyun scratched against his dignity. Woohyun had always taken care to show himself in the best possible light. Seeing him curled up in bed like this... it doesn't feel right. But.

"Hyung," Howon whispers. "It's me. Howon."

"Hey." Woohyun stirs weakly, moves just enough to look at him, and it's painfully obvious that he feels much worse than he looks. He's looking at Howon like maybe he should know him but the best he can do is a pained furrow of his eyebrows in his effort to remember. "Sorry, I can't-"

"We met during auditions. We were supposed to meet up for practice an hour ago," Howon tells him, all matter-of-fact. "I'm-" so why does he feel so intense all of a sudden? "-a friend of Sunggyu's."

Woohyun blinks. But there's no dawning recognition in his eyes. None of that inner life when it comes to anything about Sunggyu. "Who?"

"Just a friend." Howon's mind is moving slowly, but there's a new feeling to everything, a new lens of crystal clarity. "Just a friend."

"Oh. Hey." Woohyun rubs dry hands at his face. "Sorry I had to miss practice. I'm. Kind of..."

"No, don't worry about it." Howon stands straight. A plan is forming. "Just rest well. Get better. I'll take care of everything."

And before he leaves, Howon makes sure that Woohyun is fast asleep again when he unties the bracelet around his wrist.

~*~

The leather feels soft in his hands.

He throws them into the river, one after the other.

"Woohyun-ah."

Sunggyu is speaking in his 'I don't understand, please tell me what's wrong' voice. Hearing it, no matter the words, always leaves Woohyun so raw, so knotted up inside.

They each have their own beds crammed into the same room even though most nights they tangle themselves together on a bed that's large enough for just one. But tonight Woohyun is curled up in his own space, his back turned to Sunggyu and doing his best to pretend that he's not the one keeping Sunggyu awake. Tonight, Woohyun is holding a sprig of pink flowers in his hand. Lethe's bramble. The gift from the lady.

"You haven't looked at me, really looked at me in days," Sunggyu continues in the dark. "Are we fighting? Because I don't know. Please tell me." This is not new. Sunggyu knows Woohyun better than anyone else, but that doesn't mean Woohyun is transparent.

"Why didn't you tell me about Howon?" Woohyun whispers quietly.

"What about Howon?" Sunggyu asks, and he sounds so genuinely confused.

"I saw you the other night. You were sharing a moment. Downstairs."

"Oh."

"Just 'oh'?"

"I didn't think there was anything to say." Sunggyu shifts in his bed, fumbles in the dark, but the room is small and he's lived here for years, he knows the exact steps to Woohyun's bed even with his eyes closed. Woohyun keeps his back turned, but he moves enough to allow Sunggyu enough space to sit. "I knew Howon liked me even before you met him. The way he watches no one else on stage but me? He isn't exactly subtle. But it didn't matter."

"And the other night?" Woohyun prompts again.

"We told each other things. He told me about how he's been following me since he moved here. And that he'd do anything to be with me." Sunggyu reaches out and finds Woohyun's hair on the first try. Something else he's been doing for so long. "It wasn't a small confession."

Woohyun suspected as much. "And what did you tell him?"

"I told him that... I think he's a great friend. And that I know he'll find love and happiness someday. But it won't be with me. I've already found mine. That's it."

The tension breaks. They both know it, even without either of them saying anything. Woohyun doesn't breathe differently, doesn't make room for Sunggyu on his bed, doesn't reach for Sunggyu's hand. But Sunggyu knows he's been given permission to squeeze himself into Woohyun's bed again, so he does. Sunggyu wraps an arm around Woohyun's waist and presses their bodies closer.

"And why didn't you tell me?" Woohyun asks. Because sure, maybe the bigger worry about Sunggyu and Howon doesn't turn out to be real (and wow, he doesn't realize how much tension he's been keeping because of that but suddenly breathing feels so much easier) but...

"Because he doesn't matter," Sunggyu says simply, as if Woohyun should already know this. "I mean, yeah, he's our friend now, but he doesn't have anything to do with us and he should at least have his privacy, right? Besides, I trust him. He won't do anything."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm me. I've never been wrong, have I?"

"You could be, for once."

"I'm not." Sunggyu says it like it's the plainest fact in the world. The Earth revolves around the sun, the moon around the Earth, the seasons change, the oceans rise and fall, Sunggyu is never wrong. "Is this what it's about? Your silent treatment?" Sunggyu teases. "Just this? Just jealousy over Howon?"

"What silent treatment?" Woohyun squawks a little too loudly. "I didn't stop talking to you-"

"Don't, okay?" Woohyun can feel Sunggyu's breath against the back of his neck. "There's nothing to be jealous about. I'm happy with you. I want you to know that."

"Are we being completely honest tonight? Because there's something else I need to get off my chest." Some things should be said face to face, even if there's no light to see each other by. Woohyun turns in his bed, holds Sunggyu's hands in his. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that."

"I can't help it. But. Gyu?"

"Yeah?"

"I know we can do this again. All of this? We can do it again. Even if it's a million to one chance."

"What are you talking about? Did you sneak in alcohol? Why didn't you share me some-"

"Just... I believe in us, okay? I know that even if we lose each other now, it won't matter. We'll find each other again."

"Woohyun..."

"Let's go to sleep, hyung. The future is very bright."

~*~

sender: (unknown number)
Howon-ah. I'll be going away for a while. Please look after Sunggyu. (11:55 p.m.)
And thank you. For being a friend. (11:58 p.m.)

~*~

Even in sleep, you can always trust Sunggyu to be Sunggyu. When his breathing evens, Woohyun presses the sprig of flower into Sunggyu's shirt, the tiny bristles clinging to the soft fabric right above Sunggyu's heart.

Woohyun packs his things and leaves Sunggyu's life in the middle of the night. His head is filled with dreams of becoming a better man and falling in love with him all over again.

In the dark, the lady watches him go.

</center>

a matter of choice [Shinee]

verocity — Wed, 02 Oct 2013 13:30:28 GMT

Fandom: SHINee
Title: a matter of choice
Rating: G
Pairing(s)/Focus: Jonghyun/Key
Length: 2,300~
Summary: Jonghyun is a lot more anxious about the future than his bandmates give him credit for.
Warnings: -none-
Notes: This was an interesting experience; I've never actually thought of JongKey in a serious context before. Written for the kpop_ficmix 2013 challenge, a remix of ibreatheparadox's a new beginning and the search. Originally posted here.

They've always known, of course, long before management decides to make it formal. SHINee isn't forever.

"I guess..." Jinki thinks carefully. "I guess I'll enlist now."

"Acting." Minho volunteers. Then, "What?" when he sees Taemin's incredulous stare.

"I'll go solo," Taemin says with a sideways glance at Jonghyun. "I should probably milk you for all the singing lessons that you're worth."

"There's a fashion institute in New York with my name on it," Kibum huffs, but they all hear the wistful undertone.

"I guess..." Jonghyun thinks long and hard about this. "I guess I'll order take-out. Chicken and beer, anyone?"

There's this recurring dream where Jonghyun is sitting by the riverside. He doesn't even know which river it is, it's just some river somewhere quiet and the sun always shines brightly without stinging his skin. He's cuddling his knees, his hair is in his eyes and the grass is tickling the bare skin of his feet. He feels like a kid. Add a sepia filter and it's picture perfect for TV.

There's a length of thin string tied to his finger; on the other end are his slippers as they float down the river, the current pulling the string taut. It's easy to imagine the string snapping and him going home barefoot and Jonghyun doesn't really know why he's doing this, but the string never breaks when he reels his slippers in and he dreams of putting them on but he doesn't remember what happens after.

Maybe he goes home to live a perfectly normal dream-life only to return to the riverside the next day, string, slippers, and bare feet and all.

It's a dream where nothing ever happens. He doesn't know why he's always so tired when he wakes up.

He wonders for the first time (as he stares at the ceiling while Minho snores loudly across the room and Kibum is making breakfast) whether it's a river in New York. And why he does he suddenly care so much?

"What do you think will happen after?" Jonghyun asks when he finally corners Jinki in the kitchen.

They're alone in the dorm. Management, in a show of rarely seen empathy, had given them all a couple of days to adjust to the news. ("They just don't want us to blurt it out by accident on some talkshow," Kibum said with a roll of his eyes.) Minho rocketed off somewhere without telling anyone, Taemin's probably lost in an arcade in the city to 'watch the normal kids play', and Key said something about Woohyun and Nicole but nobody ever pays attention because that way it's easier to ignore whatever happens when those three get together.

Jonghyun just... doesn't feel like going out. There's this huge creature sitting on his chest. A bear, maybe. Or an elephant. Possibly a blue whale. Whatever it is, it's slowly crushing his heart but maybe talking to someone would scare the creature away.

"It's always hard to see the other side of change," Jinki says philosophically, which Jonghyun knows is Jinki's way of avoiding a topic.

"Hyung," Jonghyun wheedles. Jinki has always had a soft spot for him. Like a pet owner who thinks fondly of a particularly dim-witted puppy that thinks plastic chew toys are dinner. Jonghyun doesn't really mind.

Jinki sighs. The mask changes. "What are you worried about?" and it's Onew speaking this time, SHINee's leader, the perfect one, all polished charisma, not clumsy Jinki who's prone to depression and escapes so easily into the absurd.

"What's not to worry about?" Jonghyun slips an arm around Onew before the latter can squirm away. His breath smells like smoke. He really should stop that soon.

"Jjong. Of everyone here, you should be the least worried about life after SHINee."

"I know that, I'm too awesome to fail." Jonghyun fishes into his pocket for some mints. Jinki takes one guiltily, pops it into his mouth and resumes his persona. "Still. It's... kind of big, huh? You with the army, and Minho with the acting..."

There's this carefully blank look in Onew's eyes. "And New York being so far away?"

The creature on Jonghyun's chest wakes up with a start.

"You've always been so impulsive," Onew tells him with a sigh. Oh wait, is that Jinki? "But you always own your actions. It's all up to you."

They've always believed that Jinki is at least partially crazy, but sometimes Jonghyun wonders if Jinki can actually see the future.

He has a bicycle. It's not new, it's not even clean, but somehow it still gleams under the sun beneath all the tarnish. It's lying on the grass behind him as he takes his slippers off.

There are quiet footsteps. Jonghyun doesn't bother to see who it is. He still cuddles his knees and the sun is still bright, but now there's a kid sitting not so distant to his left and—well, this is kind of new.

They're quiet. Comfortable. Jonghyun almost wants to start a conversation but the kid leaves just as he opens his mouth and Jonghyun wakes up. He turns his head in time to see someone sneaking quietly out of his bedroom. The patch of pillow beside his head smells like Kibum's shampoo.

The internet is such a powerful resource.

New York looks like a city of adventure.

Jonghyun can so easily imagine Kibum strutting down those packed sidewalks with numerous shopping bags dangling from his arms, or taking impossibly artistic shots of questionable food from some hole-in-the-wall place that he just has a knack for finding.

Kibum conquered Paris a few years ago. And Tokyo. New York isn't going to be much of a problem.

Jonghyun shuts his laptop with a sigh.

"So. Acting, huh?"

"It's something to do, at least," Minho huffs, lifting the barbell for his last rep, arms shaking dangerously while Jonghyun holds the weight at the center. They guide it to the bench rest and Minho pulls himself to a sitting position, gets on his feet like he didn't just bench press Jonghyun's body weight.

Jonghyun takes his place and Minho spots him. Men in their natural habitat. "You mean before taking over the family business?"

Minho shrugs. "Inevitable affairs." They've always known that this is just a small phase of Minho's life, an indulgence of extended adolescent whims. In the end, the Choi brothers have their careers written in stone. "What are you going to do?"

But there's something subdued about Minho these days. Some spark of life missing ever since the closed-door announcement, as if an invisible plug was pulled and he's been running on cheap fuel ever since.

Jonghyun doesn't quite have the coordination to speak while pumping iron. Score one for Minho.

"Maybe I'll look into acting," he gasps as Minho guides the barbell on the bench rest and Jonghyun lets his arms flop beside him like useless lumps of rubber. He never gets the hang of it. His pecs always want to kill him.

Minho snorts, unimpressed, but he's very considerate of Jonghyun's pace for the rest of their workout. Even if Jonghyun takes so much longer doing his reps. Gratitude comes in so many forms for so many things.

Half an hour later has both of them in the steam room where Jonghyun is slumped with his elbows on his knees while Minho looks like he's just finished warming up.

"What if you're needed elsewhere?" Minho's deep voice echoes beautifully off the tiles. Maybe they should start looking into recording in the bathroom.

"Where else would I want to be instead of tormenting my favorite dongsaeng?"

"Stop pitting yourself against Jinki-hyung." There's a smirk in that statement even if his face is perfectly neutral. Jonghyun should know better than to play on Minho's loyalties.

It's only when they're toweling themselves dry that Minho says anything more. Sentence fragments: Minho's litmus test when he's working through emotions he hasn't quite learned to express. "But. If you decide to go somewhere, hyung. I'll sort of miss you."

Aha! So maybe Jinki's victory isn't absolute yet. "I'm not going anywhere, kid." He'd ruffle Minho's hair but he doesn't know where the gym keeps their stepladders.

Minho smiles sadly at him.

Jonghyun nudges Taemin's elbow hard. "You do realize that we'll be competing with each other, right? When we go solo? And I won't make it any easier for you. There are no dongsaengs in the solo market so you better give it your all once you're out of my shadow."

Taemin pops his ear buds back in. "That's nice, hyung."

Nobody could give zero fucks quite like Lee Taemin.

There's a dead flower in Kibum's hands, some kind of swamp sunflower whose healthy yellow already turned brittle brown.

Jonghyun hasn't even tied the string to his slippers yet.

"I just realized that we're dying," Kibum says lightly, as if he hasn't heard of morbidity before. "And there isn't anything we can do about it."

Jonghyun glances at the grass beneath their feet. At the river. At the bright sunlight against their skin. At Kibum, who looks so resigned about something that never really bothered Jonghyun. "I can think of one thing to do," he says. "Would you mind staying longer than you usually do today?"

Kibum does and the dream changes even more. Jonghyun forgets to throw his slippers into the river.

"So. New York, huh?"

"Radio silence for three days and suddenly you're talking to me while I'm at my busiest." Kibum doesn't bother to turn around and look at him. There are two piles of clothes on his bed: one for 'Okay, maybe I can bring this with me' and the other for 'Just... No'. The second pile is significantly more massive.

"I'm just saying it's kind of a big decision." Jonghyun leans a shoulder against the door jamb. "Do you already have a long-term visa?"

"It's in the works." A cardigan gets thrown on the 'maybe' pile. "Have you decided on how you're going to ruin your life next?"

"Depends on who you ask." Jonghyun slinks closer and rescues a denim shirt from the heap of discards. Kibum hisses and snatches it back quickly, accidentally making eye contact for the first time in days. "I think Minho likes the idea of me getting into acting."

"Of course he does, he just wants to rub your face in the fact that he has more experience." Kibum goes back to sorting through his wardrobe. This takes a lot of concentration. There are a lot of clothes.

"And Jinki-hyung thinks I should go solo."

"Always the sensible one, that man." A red and white blazer makes the cut causing Jonghyun to question everything he knows about fashion. "And Taemin?"

Jonghyun pauses to consider that one. "I'm not sure. I think he's glad that I'm alive. But don't quote me on that, I could be wrong."

Kibum's laughter is definitely something he'll miss, no matter how reserved it sounds right now. "If you got a reaction, any reaction at all, then it means he likes you."

"See, I've been living with him for over half a decade by now and I still don't think I can agree with you." Jonghyun takes the letterman jacket Kibum hasn't thrown anywhere yet and plays with the fabric between his fingers. "So. New York, huh?"

"Yeah." And the wall between them collapses, the invisible maginot line between the melodramatic and the unromantic; Kibum leans in and Jonghyun stumbles to support the weight of two people on a knee that never really fully healed. "I'm going to miss you, Jjong."

"You say it like you're leaving tomorrow." He resists the urge to tangle his fingers through Kibum's hair, settles for cupping the back of Kibum's neck instead.

"I say it because I really am going to miss you, you unappreciative twat." But it's all fondness, no matter how exasperated Kibum sounds. "No more hyena laughter, no more bad guitar-playing when I'm trying to sleep, no more threats of the kitchen burning when I'm not around. You ruined me, you know."

"Maybe I'm not done ruining you yet," Jonghyun teases. Kibum laughs again – unguarded this time, something to bottle up for a lonely day – and he shoves Jonghyun away. "All I'm saying is that life has a lot of surprises up its sleeves."

Jonghyun has a piece of paper in his hands.

He's confused for a moment because this hasn't happened in the dream before. Sure, there's been a few changes with the conversations between him and Kibum being the biggest one, but he's always sitting on the grass and watching the river try to steal his slippers and Kibum just... happens to be there; he's never actually waited for the dream-version of Kibum to slide carefully down the steep riverbank and come to him.

His bicycle is propped up properly today, too.

"What's that?" Kibum asks, pointing at the paper.

"I think I'm supposed to give this to you." Jonghyun shrugs and crumples it instead. "But you know what, it doesn't matter. Why don't we go somewhere today? I've got wheels and I know how to use them."

Kibum spares Jonghyun's bicycle a glance. One of his eyebrows almost twitches and yup, that's it, this is the Kibum who Jonghyun knows, dream or not. "Let's not torture the poor thing. We can just walk."

"Sure, that could work." Jonghyun hasn't even taken off his slippers yet. He wonders if his dreams will ever be the same again.

"Any idea where we should go?" Kibum asks as they climb up the riverbank to the dirt road nearby.

Jonghyun hums while he thinks about it. He grins brightly when he gets an idea. "Let's go see the world."

It turns out that New York is much farther away when he has to pay for it out of his own pocket.

But what the hell, Jonghyun thinks, years under the spotlight taught him that life is an adventure. It's time to live it on his own terms.

(Maybe Jinki can see the future and maybe Minho will miss him. And maybe Taemin is glad that Jonghyun's alive.

Or maybe not.)

Out of Sight, Into Mind [2AM]

verocity — Sat, 31 Aug 2013 22:52:21 GMT

Title: Out of Sight, Into Mind
Author: verocity
Fandom: 2AM
Featuring: Kwon-centric, Changmin, Seulong, Jinwoon
Rating: G
Warnings: N/A
Genre: Gen, Fantasy, Action/Adventure
Summary: Somewhere along the way there must be trust in each other, in their skills and their decisions, trust that they would do the right things.
Word Count: 1,930
Author's Note: Remix of Into, Not At for the automix challenge. Structure of magic used in this fic refer to the Magic: The Gathering universe.

Kwon is the first to clue in on it, but it's Changmin who actually decides to do something.

"Maybe we should just leave him alone," Kwon says as Changmin taps into the raw mana in the air. The river slows down to almost complete stillness. Kwon has never understood blue magic. Maybe it's because of a total lack of interest.

"I'm inclined to agree," Changmin says as he kneels down to cup water in his hands. He leans lower as if to wash his face but he stops and stares into small pool in he's drawn up. "But knowing a little more might be helpful."

Blue magic, Kwon knows, is about the mind. Blue magic is about understanding.

"What are you doing?" Kwon asks. He's never seen Changmin do this before.

"Trying to see what Jinwoon sees in his reflection."

Kwon frowns, less about disapproval and more about indecision whether to invade Jinwoon's privacy or not. He's never comfortable with mind magic, never has been, never will be. What goes on in people's heads should be left up to them, unless – and this is important – it threatens the greater good. So far, Jinwoon has never.

"Don't be so concerned," Changmin assures him, letting the water seep through his fingers. Kwon isn't surprised that Changmin knows what he's thinking. Their connection, strictly speaking, isn't magical at all. This is about Changmin and Kwon wondering the same things as they worry about their youngest. This is Changmin using his talents to find out what Kwon can only stipulate quietly. "I'm not invading Jinwoon's thoughts. I'm only trying to see what shape it takes."

White magic is about order. White magic is about respect and living in peace. White magic is about the Greater Good, the Sake of the Many. And things would have been much simpler if Kwon was merely a white mage, but no. Somewhere along the way, in the years spent indulging the art of singing as a hobby, he'd somehow dabbled – and fallen in love with – red magic as well. Whereas white is about rules and harmony, red is all about passion and expression. Red magic is all about fire in its many incarnations in the soul or in the world. Red magic sets things ablaze, lives and hearts included, all these rules be damned, aesthetics in entropy.

It's this tension between valuing the group and valuing the self that made him the natural choice for leadership.

Kwon is a living contradiction. Changmin finds the contrast so intriguing.

"And what did you see?" Kwon asks, concern and curiosity winning out.

Changmin doesn't answer straight away. He gets back on his feet, releases the river from its prison in time, and stares up at the dimming canopy. The daytime forest is readying for dark. The nighttime forest is awakening around them. "I saw something very disturbing." He's trying to sound light. This worries Kwon even more.

"Which is?"

"Out of respect for your respect for privacy," Changmin prefaces, "the spell I used wouldn't show me anything Jinwoon sees as personal. The spell is designed only to give me an idea of how Jinwoon thinks, but not what Jinwoon is thinking."

"And?" Kwon asks again, a bit impatient this time. Neither white nor red like to be kept waiting. Or maybe it's just him.

They head back to camp. "What worries me," Changmin says, "is that I only saw myself. Interpretation is... going to be difficult."

Kwon shrugs, a false attempt at light-heartedness. "Maybe the spell didn't work."

"Maybe," Changmin indulges him, but they both know it's just humor.

Changmin's magic never fails.

~*~

Kwon discovered Jinwoon's eccentricity almost at the very start of their search for the moonsilver obelisk, an artifact from ancient days long fabled to be at the heart of the forest at the edge of the world. The kingdom's grand council had missioned the four of them to find out if the rumors are true. If the demons sealed in the obelisk too many generations past are starting to wake once more, and if so to seal them back at all costs.

They were ambushed on their first night setting up camp by a pack of changelings, a mix of feral bears and werewolves, the coordinated effort clueing everyone that the attack was magically sent and not just innocent creatures in the forest living out natural instincts. Kwon was fast enough to protect the four of them with a wall of ghostfire right in the middle of the chaos, Jinwoon drew his axe and howled into the night to summon his own far larger pack of wolves right from the ether, Changmin's scouting spell pulsed around them to find further hiding threats, and Seulong sent the tendrils of his corrupted shadows to impale those enemies they couldn't see.

And when Kwon used his empowering white enchantments to give the four of them visions of themselves triumphant, Jinwoon flinched, closed his eyes and swung his axe guided only by his nose and ears.

And after that, it's the little things. How Jinwoon always washes his face with his eyes alert for threats. How Jinwoon very carefully chooses to look deeper into the forest whenever Changmin encases anything in ice. How carefully he skirts around puddles after it rains. How thoroughly he keeps his sight outwards.

It made sense at first, with Kwon's white discipline for community appreciating Jinwoon's green pack instinct. After all, green is the color of survival, the color of primal strength. Green magic is at its strongest by summoning and taming creatures of the wilderness. Strength in numbers, Kwon decided, meant an appreciation for living harmoniously with one's surroundings, a principle one step away from white doctrines.

But when they came across the Opal Lake and Jinwoon surveyed the bubbling waters without worry, his forehead furrowed while wondering if he knew a creature that could ferry them across, that was when Kwon saw the other side of the glass. That maybe it wasn't so much as keeping an eye out for the others.

And by then, Changmin had already noticed. But then again, Jinwoon had fled when Changmin uncovered his panoptic mirror to scry their way through the forest. There was no misinterpreting that.

Seulong doesn't seem to be any wiser. But it's expected: black is the color of ambition, corruption, and death. Students of black magic rarely spend time outside of their own heads.

Maybe, Kwon thinks, self-absorbed black is the perfect companion for someone who is hiding from himself.

~*~

They reach an abandoned elven fortress after three days of trekking.

They agree to reconvene at the overgrown throne room at sundown. Changmin commissions Jinwoon to help search for stored food and restock their dwindling supplies. Kwon and Seulong explore the halls for what magic they can salvage. Elven, they all know, is just a glamorous evolution of Eldritch.

"Jinwoon seems particularly attached to you," Kwon observes neutrally.

Seulong barks out relieved laughter. "It's good to know that I'm not the only one who finds it strange." They don't have torches, but shadowed halls mean nothing when one mage works exclusively with darkness while the other can conjure light. "I've never met anyone who uses green that I've ever agreed with, what with our disciplines being polar opposites. But maybe it helps that I haven't killed any of his pets." Seulong grins without promise. "Yet."

Kwon scoffs harshly. "You're too fond of him to do anything like that."

"He's useful for now," Seulong says breezily. "You all are. Contrary to widespread opinions, we black mages don't want demons to return. We have too many debts. We don't want them to wake up and start... collecting."

"Your vested interests provide the warmest inspiration." Kwon sniffs. "But black mages are selfish, not stupid. I'm sure you must have noticed." He slides a door aside to reveal a room of rusted scimitars. Weapons, but banal and non-elven. Not of any use. They move on.

"There's more to notice than his raw power?"

Kwon frowns sternly. "You don't fool me." Seulong laughs.

"I just find it amusing," Seulong admits. "And before you say anything, it's not just for entertainment. He's free to be who he wants to be."

Kwon thinks for a moment. "I would commend you for thinking of his welfare, but I know it's only because you don't see him as a threat to you at all."

"Cynicism from a castrato?" Black mage humor pick on white mages particularly. "Who would have thought?" The next door leads to better results. A room of dried brambles. Distilled green magic, exactly what the elves were good at. "But let me appeal to the expressionist in you instead. Why is it so bad that Jinwoon is afraid of himself?"

"If the demons rise," Kwon thinks aloud as he breathes in stale mana, natural green flaring with his innate red, "would you trust a man who doesn't know himself?"

"Much less than I would trust a man who can summon the wild and has already fought beside me." The room agrees with Seulong. Preservation is just controlled decay. "Now I know why white and red shouldn't mix," he teases. "It leaves you prone to baseless rhetoric."

The glyphs on the back of their hands glow a faint blue. "We found some food," Changmin's disembodied voice says. "Jinwoon's nose is very efficient."

"I'm a helper," Jinwoon adds cheekily. "And I was hungry."

"We found nothing useful," Seulong answers. "Not that we had much time."

"It might be safer to stay the night," Kwon suggests. They make their way back. "We'll make more ground well-rested."

The glyphs fade quickly. "Live and let live," Seulong tells him, their last words on the issue. "Strange coming from me, I know, but I mean it."

~*~

It doesn't end there.

They turn a large enough room into their camp for the night. Kwon summons geists to keep watch, floating bodies of mist that roam the halls accompanied by some of Jinwoon's wolves. Seulong keeps his magic to himself.

"We have a long way to go," Changmin tells them. He brings out his mirror once more and Kwon expects Jinwoon to make an excuse and bolt for the hallway, but instead he huddles into himself at a corner, perfectly morose. "We're slightly past halfway. There's an empty rhox encampment half a day's walk from here. In the right direction. More or less. We could find something useful."

"The rhox were dedicated to pure white magic," Seulong snorts. "No wonder they're extinct."

But Kwon doesn't pay them any attention. He watches Jinwoon carefully test the edge of his axe, completely absorbed in reinforcing the magic that makes the dull wood hard as steel. But he's still here even if he's determinedly avoiding looking at Changmin's mirror, and there's new hardness in the set of Changmin's eyes.

Kwon can't help but wonder what else was said in their search for food. Can't help but wonder if Changmin used his magic after all to smooth out the nooks and crannies of Jinwoon's mind, or maybe it's just his natural charm of working past people's defenses so effortlessly; Changmin's words carry more weight than his spells.

And maybe it's not the way Kwon would do things himself, but things happen and the four of them were put together to get things done, and somewhere along the way there must be trust in each other, in their skills and their decisions, trust that they would do the right things.

They all, Kwon knows, have a very long way to go.

Oh look, more news!

verocity — Tue, 27 Aug 2013 19:59:00 GMT

Everything's quiet.

Too quiet.

Maybe I should mess things up a little, huh?

SO. Yes. I'm coming out of retirement.

MORE BADFIC FOR EVERYONE!!

Hi everyone!

Well. Not that many people come visit this LJ anymore. But!

I've still been writing on and off and every once in a while I actually manage to finish something (usually for a challenge or a fic I promised someone) but lately my job* has been getting more and more draining and time-consuming. Although one could say that writing fic is a form of stress release (and I very willingly agree, so many of my fics were written during my bad days), it no longer provides the release I need and my motivation for writing is just... dwindling away. During the moments when I'd usually write something, I now find myself wanting to take pictures or to cook or to practice my piano skills... Yeah.

So! What does this mean for this LJ? Most likely I won't be deleting it; there are memories here, good and bad, that I want to keep somehow. I will also admit that I'm considering setting all the entries to private. (It's a personal preference thing, we could talk about it if you want.) I haven't really decided yet because - dare I say it? - some people may actually drop by every once in a while to read my old stuff.

This is what I'll do instead: I'll just leave it open for now. If anyone still drops by here, just leave a comment so I'll know not to lock the fics. Otherwise, I'll set everything to private on the first Saturday of September.

... And I guess that's it! It's been a good run, everyone! Thank you for everything ^_^

*By the way, I got promoted last month. Yey! :D Hence all the new challenges haha!

(untitled) [EXO-K]

verocity — Mon, 24 Jun 2013 11:56:12 GMT

Kyungsoo starts it with Let’s go for an adventure, we have a few hours before Joonmyun-hyung starts looking for us, and Chanyeol almost reminds him that adventures are counted in days; what they can have (at most) was an excursion. Sure, if you want to call it that, Kyungsoo indulges him, but then they’ve always indulged each other. Before Chanyeol knows it they’re just outside of town and they’re climbing to the top of a pagoda and they’re surrounded by stone demons and monkeys that don’t creep him out as much as the way Kyungsoo is watching the sun set behind the not-so-distant city skyline. Kyungsoo is leaning against the railing, carelessly childlike in ways that he never allows D.O. to be, his eyes ablaze in orange and the bliss on his face telling a tale of pure freedom.

And in that moment Chanyeol worries. Not that Kyungsoo will jump and fall, but that Kyungsoo will jump and never reach the ground. That once Kyungsoo’s feet clear the wooden floor he’ll rise higher and higher until he can sing to the skies and his music will no longer be stifled. Kyungsoo stretches his arms wide to embrace the fading sunlight, and in that exact instant Chanyeol believes to the very core of his heart that flying is too mundane a dream for Do Kyungsoo to achieve. This is a story of transcendence.

Chanyeol reaches out to him, almost begs, stay. don’t go where I can’t follow. And maybe somehow, in that special sense he has that makes words superfluous, Kyungsoo hears his plea and he turns to face him with the first true smile he’s worn in days. Let’s go back, hyung, Kyungsoo says and the adventure ends, and Chanyeol finds a voice in himself swearing that Kyungsoo will never be alone anywhere.

There is a sliver of light shining on Kyungsoo’s hand. That night, Chanyeol dreams of Kyungsoo holding the sun.

(345)

Seventh High [DBSK]

verocity — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 15:01:20 GMT

Title: Seventh High
Rating: G
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Summary: But tonight, the world needed an idol. And they don't come any better than U-know Yunho.
Author's Note: Huge thanks to Miia for being such an effective test audience/cheerleader, to Reeza for being the best team mom ever. To Cath, dreams shine brightly, but the dreamer shines more; few people in fandom have inspired me as much as you. And to Team Shrieks-A-Lot who redefined the meaning of “wailing and gnashing of teeth”, may we find technology that actually suits our needs. Hey, we can’t fail all the time. My pinch hit for the kpop_olymfics 2013 cycle. Originally posted here.
NOTE: The ideas expressed in this fic do not necessarily mirror the ideas of the author.
Word Count: 9,524 words

A single man can change the whole world.

"It will be dangerous," the inspector said gravely, and Yunho thought of course it was going to be fucking dangerous.

"Absolutely not," Yunho's manager retorted as he slammed a fist on the cheap formica table. He made to leave as if he'd ended the discussion, gathering his piles of paper of jumbled legal language and didn't even bother looking at the inspector's steely gaze. He was already at the door when he realized he was standing alone.

Yunho kept his expression blank, but he got the feeling that the man sitting across the table from him had seen more of human nature than Yunho could ever dream of. Yunho had learned how to fool the camera, how to woo the hearts of a million fans into loving him, how to convince sponsors into thinking he was their perfect little model.

But then, the reality was that idol powers had a very limited area of effect.

Yunho nodded, a single action more challenging than any training, any hardship that the idol world had ever placed upon his shoulders. "I'll do it," he said, and signed the agreement before his manager could stop him. Not that his manager could stop him, not from this.

After all, he may have been an idol still, but he was no longer a child. He was a man and men didn't need contracts to define their honor.

Speaking of contracts, the entertainment industry had very specific, very binding clauses that basically boiled down to this: do what management tells you to do, and do it gratefully.

Say what you will about the imbalance of power, about the manipulation of children for labor, about the assault to freedom for the sake of misunderstood dreams, and many others have said so much more about this lottery of ink and spotlight... but in the end even the entertainment industry was bound by the needs of the country. Even idols had to go to war.

Even idols could choose to serve and protect their country in any of the ways they knew. Not even the contract could override acts of personal sovereignty under the call of the people's communal need.

The ride back to his condo was tense. That was a given. The garish red sunset was perfectly symbolic.

Yunho could practically hear his manager wracking his brain for any of the myriad ways he could convince Yunho to change his mind, that a calm discussion over tea and mochi could do wonders for this misplaced heroic state of mind. Because that was what the industry was good at: convincing children that this was what they wanted, that they were the only ones who could make their dreams come true.

But Yunho was a child no more. He pushed his manager's worries away from the center of his mind and focused nearly singularly on the project he'd taken on for and by himself. This project which he had no idea how to handle but at the same time knew with absolute certainty that he had to do no matter what. This project like none other Yunho had ever worked with, not like shooting MVs where NGs only meant redoing the scene, not like reality shows where the final reel could be edited and cut to maintain imagery and entertainment. Not even like the stage where he could practice for hours on end until he got every pop locked, every appoggiatura timed perfectly evocative.

This was a one-time deal, one chance to do it or it would be shot to hell.

For the sake of fallen comrades, Yunho would do it right.

Jang Dongwoo had been the first, a disappearance six months ago that nobody knew how to explain. Dongwoo loved being an idol, wasn't the type to run away from the pressure and the scrutiny and even from the obsessive fans who compromised his privacy. Private hours of no contact turned to days of frantic searching. Infinite and their management contained the drama and the heartbreak as much as they could, spun stories of health issues – both mental and physical – that necessitated in the stage's fierce Dongwoo breaking from the inner Jang Dongwoo, the child who bore all the pressure of his idol life with nothing more than an armor of colors and laughter, and the time had come for the latter to give in. Jang Dongwoo, according to Infinite, had to travel back to Canada to “find himself once more and come back stronger than ever”. Infinite implored vigilance, that the fans support them in these harrowing times, and the strategy worked: people focused more on the broken remains than the piece that vanished from the board.

Then two months later, Yong Junhyung didn't come home after an extended recording session for Davichi's latest album. Beast, always so vocal, always so transparent, had been forced into indefinite hiatus before fan reactions erupted beyond control. Each member was instructed to carefully memorize a series of false events about Junhyung being dissatisfied with idol life and reneging on his contract. Junhyung, according to the script, wanted to live out the rest of his life as a teacher in the provinces. A vocational call that Beast supposedly tried to fight against but eventually agreed to.

2PM's Minjun vanished on the way back from a night out with non-idol friends. The cab he'd taken was found a few days later behind an old warehouse. The driver was in his seat, dead since the night of the disappearance from what police determined was a drug overdose. There was blood on the back seat. Not much, just a small splatter that laboratories were able to match with DNA samples taken from Minjun's toothbrush. The rest of Minjun had yet to turn up.

The severity of the situation took clear shape after that: someone was hunting idols.

The fans were good at piecing puzzles together when it came of the privacy of their idols' lives, but the entertainment industry had masters capable of bending the public will.

None of these details had been released to the public yet, and here the word "public" was used loosely.

But then, what Yunho held in his hands wasn't exactly meant for public scrutiny.

"How long have you known?" Yunho asked the tired figure that sat on the other side of the dinner table.

"Since Yong Junhyung disappeared," Inspector Jin Youngsoo admitted as he sipped on a cup of Yunho's coffee. He'd resisted having the briefing in the privacy of Yunho's condominium, but Yunho assured him that few places had tighter security than a world-class idol's home. "We're presenting information to you on an immersive basis. The dossier you're reading is a high-level overview of the sequence of events, but it doesn't contain every detail we've uncovered so far. You are still technically a private citizen; you will be presented information on a need to know basis."

"And how will you determine what I need to know?" Yunho asked, not exactly rebelliously. This was a role. Youngsoo, even in the strictness of his language, spoke like he was in a drama. Yunho wondered if scriptwriters had ever based characters on him or if it was the other way around.

The inspector indulged him with a weak, fatherly smile. "You will find, Jung Yunho-sshi, that my team happens to be good at this job."

Yunho nodded and set the dossier aside. He'd already read it three times from cover to cover.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask?"

"Are they dead?" Yunho asked bluntly.

Youngsoo didn't miss a beat; as if he already knew exactly what Yunho wanted to know. "Almost certainly," the inspector admitted delicately, with a touch of empathy that Yunho felt he'd honed from years of talking to the families of the bereaved. "Jang Dongwoo, most definitely, and Yong Junhyung. Kim Minjun's fate is still unclear, but based on our profiler's projections there is ninety-five per cent confidence that Kim Minjun is already within the critical period wherein the criminal's psychosis will escalate. "

Euphemisms. Yunho almost got to his feet, but the steady look Youngsoo leveled at him steeled his reaction. "If there's a chance he's still alive-"

"We are not the only people working on this case," Youngsoo reminded him. "You are an idol and a necessary supplement to this team. You are not a search and rescue operative. Remember: we cannot do everything. But what we can do, we must do correctly. The other team's mission is to find and rescue the victims. Our mission is to catch the killer. Your righteous anger will only complicate matters. Do you understand, Yunho-sshi?"

Of course. This was a one-night mission. If there was one night when he had to be in perfect control of his body, it had to be tonight.

Yunho unclenched his fists and nodded.

The team's criminal profiler also happened to be an expert at wielding a make-up brush.

"It's a lady's prerogative to change how we look every day," Hyun Haeun said as she made her way through the arsenal of cosmetics that sat on Yunho's dresser. "Besides, I paid my way through college by working at a department store. Prettying yourself up is practically half the game." She whistled at a brand of eyeliner from Italy that would have cost half her pay check. Yunho gestured for her to use whatever she wanted.

"So what do we know?" Yunho asked, his lips moving stiffly as he worked concealer on the bags below his eyes. "About this criminal, I mean. I'm sure you've already made a few educated gu-"

"Inferences," Haeun corrected. She glanced tentatively at Youngsoo, who was standing by idly at the door. Youngsoo gave no reaction and that was enough for Haeun. "It's definitely a he," she said as she unscrewed a tube of bb cream. "We might end up talking all night so I’ll just summarize, okay? We're looking for an ex idol trainee. Male. Probably a dancer, definitely a rapper, definitely not someone who'd have been a visual. Someone who feels jilted that he was glossed over despite his talent."

"Is he actually any good?"

"His level of talent doesn't matter," Haeun said sternly as she painted wings on her eyes that drew attention away from the rich waves of her hair. "What matters is that he feels rejected. He feels that he's talented enough to debut but he wasn't given the chance because he didn't look right."

Yunho thought these over. The implications sank in. "Ah. And you asked me to be your bait because...?"

"You idols really are super vain," a gruff voice said from beside Yunho's closet. Kang Hwoarang, the team's combat specialist, a tall man with hair dyed dark orange and teased into spikes reminiscent of anime. He was wearing Yunho's only red tank top and he looked better in it than Yunho ever did. Yunho's muscles were toned; Hwoarang was built. "Go on, noona, indulge his ego."

Haeun blushed, but either because of the awkwardness or because of how Yunho's top hugged the contours of Hwoarang's body, Yunho couldn't tell. "You have to admit, Yunho-sshi," Haeun said delicately as she sorted through her purse for lip gloss, "you didn't exactly look like an idol when you debuted. But that was years ago. You look so much hotter these days."

Yunho just laughed at the throwaway compliment, as if Haeun was wary of offending Yunho's vanity. He knew what this was. This was gallows humor. Like how Changmin had laughed that the company had belatedly imposed a height requirement for DBSK.

"He's after people whom he thinks shouldn't have debuted as well," Hwoarang continued seriously as Haeun painted her lips with a sheen that reminded Yunho of fine merlot. "People whom he thinks should have shared his rejection."

"So it's a form of revenge," Yunho wondered.

Haeun paused. "No," she said softly.

"Why? I mean if he's been taking people like me because we succeeded where he didn't..." Yunho trailed off.

Youngsoo coughed discreetly from his position. The man had barely moved the whole time. All that self-control even in the face of the pressure he faced every day, all that preserved tranquility – this was a type of leadership that Yunho had never learned to harness.

The cough's discreetness was the cue itself. A line had been drawn. A line the other side of which Yunho was not allowed to be shown.

"Just... no," Haeun finished flatly. She stepped back and admired her reflection on Yunho's dresser.

"You done yet?" Hwoarang asked. It would have come across as impatient, but Yunho could tell that Hwoarang's mind was already on the mission. “Because Mirajane's waiting downstairs and you know how irritable she can get.”

Haeun batted her eyelashes at Hwoarang, whose answering leer was betrayed by the laughter tugging at the corners of his lips. Yunho got to his feet and did a quick body wave for the mirror, making sure his jacket accented the signature fluidity with which his shoulders popped and locked.

He'd long ago come to terms with the fact that he was trapped under the idol stereotype. The world was not yet ready for Yunho the writer, Yunho the lawyer, or maybe even Yunho the ambassador for world peace.

But tonight, the world needed an idol.

And they don't come any better than U-know Yunho.

The youngest member of the team was waiting for them in the van, three stories deep in the underground parking space.

"We have people surrounding the premises," Mirajane informed them. "Every exit is covered by at least two agents, each one instructed to use necessary force to disable anybody who causes a ruckus." The last syllable ended too abruptly for Yunho's Korean ears.

Not so long ago, Mirajane was a fresh grad foreign affairs intern from Germany who landed a cozy spot as the personal assistant to the personal assistant to the secretary of the German ambassador to Korea. That was before she was thrown in the middle of an abduction scenario and ended up fighting for her and her boss's lives. A show of her latent sharpshooting skills later, Inspector Youngsoo himself offered her a spot in his team and Mirajane accepted because it sounded more interesting than running around after official dignitaries all day.

"And the club itself?" Yunho asked.

"It's monitored but not as tightly," Mirajane admitted. "Frankly, we don't have the manpower. Too many nooks and crannies, too dark and too noisy. Not a good investment of resources."

"That's what we're here for," Haeun reminded Youngsoo. "Me and Hwoarang and mister hallyu star over here."

"Speaking of which." Mirajane opened a black leather case to reveal ten lumps of flesh-colored plastic encased snugly in felt. "Comm devices. The one that looks like a tooth cap is the transmitter, wedge it against a back molar – use some of this dental adhesive to make sure it doesn't slip and get swallowed. Don't worry about ambient noise, Haeun's audio-filtering programs work like a charm. The tube-shaped one is the receiver. That goes in your ear."

"Duh," Hwoarang intoned eloquently as he nudged the gadget into his right ear and chewed to get used to the fit.

"The network is very straightforward," Mirajane explained. "Anything you hear or say gets transmitted to the rest of us."

"Hear that, Haeun-noona?" Hwoarang called from the backseat. "Better make sure you don't slip and admit you love me. Or else our secret loveline's gonna get exposed."

Haeun winked cheerfully at him. "The only slip up you should worry about is if I accidentally mention anything about your hobby of dancing to SNSD."

Hwoarang's eyes went wide, but before he could retort Youngsoo unfolded his arms and started the engine. The show was about to begin.

"Remember, this is a one-night opportunity," Youngsoo told the group as they rushed through Seoul's Friday night traffic. Whatever apprehension he must have felt didn't show; his hands on the wheel were as steady as cold steel. "If we don't catch him tonight, it'll be two months until he strikes again."

"What makes us so sure he'll be out tonight?" Yunho asked, fighting down the thrill of using the collective pronoun.

"A bit of behavioral analysis," Haeun said, "and a lot of math."

"Math?"

"It's pretty straightforward," Hwoarang said in the tones of feigned boredom that people used to draw more attention to their accomplishment – vanity of the achiever. "Just factoring in social scenes, media stimuli, loci of control, rates of anxiety retention, plus a multitude of other stuff too cumbersome to name. But the model held, all in all, and the formula's pretty elegant if I may say so myself."

"Your display of humility is most inspiring," Mirajane muttered audibly from the front, to which Hwoarang just shrugged his mighty shoulders and said, "Brilliance should be recognized."

"Hwoarang's a statistician," Haeun informed Yunho belatedly. "Could have graduated with highest honors if he hadn't been so obsessed with taekwondo."

Yunho was world renown in the pop idol industry. Yunho had so many trophies and plaques and awards at home that he'd run out of room to display them all. Yunho had never felt this small and underachieving before.

"Suddenly I don't feel so sure why you need me at all," Yunho said, only half joking.

"You're nothing but bait, I thought you knew that."

Haeun rolled her eyes. "Ignore Hwoarang, he's socially awkward around people hotter than him." Hwoarang's answering guffaw was nearly deafening.

"Not all crazy people act crazy all the time," Mirajane said stiffly.

"No worries Hwoarang-sshi," Yunho teased. "In my clothes, anyone could easily mistake you for an idol. Just remember to keep your head down so people don't mistake you for me."

"We're almost there," Youngsoo announced. "Hwoarang and Haeun, I'll drop you off a block earlier. Then we'll circle the site and Yunho-sshi will follow."

"Remember, don't act too familiar with me out there," Yunho reminded everyone.

"Thank you, genius." Hwoarang again.

"No, seriously," Yunho followed up. "You have no idea how crazy my fans can get."

Haeun laughed as the car glided to a stop. "And that's exactly why we need you," she said as she stepped out of the van, with Hwoarang close behind her.

The club itself is safe, Haeun's cheerful voice said right in Yunho's ear as he ignored the line of people waiting to get in and waltzed right through the door. Jung Yunho had been left at home. Tonight he was purely U-know Yunho, and U-know Yunho waited in no lines. He won't take anyone in public, he wouldn't risk maddening fans like that. The delineation between idols and non-idols is still clear in his mind; he's not rebelling against it, you have to remember that. He may be angry at your kind of people but his anger isn't the point. He's... let's just say he's obsessed. Intensely and unhealthily so. We need you to help us filter out the over-involved fans. We need you to point out anyone who's too involved in your presence but who doesn't stand out as your supporter. Someone who'll try to get you alone.

Years of idol life had desensitized Yunho's ears from overambitious thrums of bass and oversized speakers in cooped up places. He ignored the flashes of light that tricked his eyes into remembering still images instead of a crowd writhing and dancing non-stop against the music.

You must understand that this one night of operation took weeks of preparation, said Hwoarang this time, his deep voice blending well with the synthesized percussion. For something like this we leave very little to chance. This club has the highest probability of attracting our killer based on the sheer number of frequent idol customers over the past months. I mean, you said it yourself, you've been here more than a dozen times. But to be sure, we started pressuring every other club in the metropolitan to beef up security, all to discourage our killer from going anywhere else.

The entertainment industry has a very closed circuit,was Mirajane's two cents. The club opted heavily towards foreign new wave both in music and decoration, and the clientele followed suit; Yunho could easily imagine Mirajane blending in among the wide selection of nationalities in the crowd. A few carefully controlled leaks and we managed to convince every company to lock down on their idol groups tonight. Rehearsals, photoshoots, production meetings, anything you can think of. No other idol has the time or energy to be out of their dorm. You have the scene to yourself. Haeun and Hwoarang have line of sight on you at all times. Jung Yunho-sshi, we cannot stress this enough: we've only got tonight. We must make it count.

Yunho could now safely say that concerts were no longer the tightest productions he had taken part of.

He swept through the crowd, a king in his natural element.

The dance floor was an intricate hierarchy with each caste identified by how well they moved and swayed to the all-defining music. Meritocracy grounded on the philosophies of dancing. In this emergent society, Yunho was the ace. He was the zone personified.

You're moving wrong, Haeun's voice in his ear interrupted his musings. Don't act like you're on the search. You should be the one people are looking at. Draw attention to yourself. That's the whole point.

Yunho flashed his devil-may-care grin at no one and tilted his head to the spotlight. When in doubt, sparkle. It wouldn't be right to be seen talking to himself, and people were definitely watching despite the incessant bouncing and grinding. He could feel eyes trailing his body, seduced by the clothes and the hints of sensuality just barely contained underneath. This was nothing new.

Being the center of attention had always been so intoxicating.

He doesn't have anyone to dance with, Hwoarang observed flatly.

Well we can't have that, can we?

Yunho saw the break in the crowd before he recognized who it was. He readied himself to dismiss this newcomer but a timely flash of the strobe light revealed familiar mischievous eyes. "You're looking awfully lonely, stranger," Haeun said as she raised her charm to the max. She laid a hand on Yunho's shoulder and did a body wave that left little to yet completely provoked Yunho's imagination . Haeun was the type to get things done.

Even in his head Yunho could see Hwoarang's face meeting his palm.

"Not so lonely anymore, little princess," Yunho teased back and began to lead this dance like the hallyu star he was. Subtly at first, just small waves of the shoulders that rippled down to his hips. Still too early to show off his liquid grace but he could get away with more than just a little suggestive leering.

Disaster struck.

"Mind if I have this dance?" a new voice said loudly from behind him. Haeun's eyes widened in surprise.

Yunho felt a hand on his shoulder, a guy's if the weight and the pressure in the slight squeeze was any indication. Yunho turned his head, smirk carefully in place to brush this stranger off, ready to shrug and say that he wasn't interested and he needed a reality check if he thought anyone would trade Dong Bang Shin Ki's U-Know Yunho for—

Xia Junsu.

"You don't look happy to see me," Junsu said, his smile ready to match Yunho's in nonchalance... but Junsu had always been the least guarded of the group and Yunho still owed him so much for so many favors left unpaid back from their days in training. Even in the erratic lighting Yunho saw Junsu's discomfort, practically saw Junsu thinking that Yunho was still mad at him even all these years past, that maybe now wasn't the right time.

Of course now wasn't the right time, but not for the reasons Junsu was probably thinking.

"Hey," Yunho said, trying to will away the surprised stiffness on his face.

Who's the short and lumpy guy? Hwoarang's voice piped up.

What's happening? Mirajane, sounding tense.

"Haven't seen you in a while, what are you doing here?" Okay, that wasn't as suave as Yunho wanted.

Junsu shrugged, self-mocking, but even that small action looked so impossibly graceful on him. "Trying to have fun." Then to Haeun, "Mind if I steal your date for a few minutes?"

Yunho glared hard at Haeun, but she just smiled and ran a finger tantalizingly down the bridge of Yunho's nose. The girl knew how to be part of the show. "I guess I'll see you later, stud," she drawled and shuffled away.

Haeun, Mirajane again, very audibly disapproving.

"She's pretty," Junsu said, taking her place and bobbing away to the beat much more platonically than Haeun had been doing. "But I wouldn't have thought you're the type to bring anyone out in public. Is this a change in lifestyle? Yunho-sshi?"

Relax, he doesn't fit the profile, Haeun answered Mirajane. Xia Junsu won't be a target, this doesn't change a thing.

Chaos theory, Hwoarang said academically. We have one factor unaccounted for. Which raises the question: how many other idols are out there? How many possible targets? What else did we fail to control?

"You're one to talk," Yunho shot back. "Are you sure you should be here? You've never voluntarily gone clubbing by yourself. Does your manager even know? Huh, Junsu-sshi? "

Junsu laughed at that, voice still raspy and wheezy. Junsu singing was completely different from Junsu just talking and being casual. "I just wanted to do something different tonight. Besides, my computer crashed and I don't have any games installed in my backup. So I thought, hey, why not have some fun downtown for a change? It's never too late to reinvent yourself, right?"

Hwoarang, you don't sound affected by this development, Youngsoo spoke up for the first time.

My formula still holds, Hwoarang said, obviously trying to hide his doubt. It's still tonight, it's still this club. Besides, Haeun said-

"That's definitely unexpected," Yunho said, all the while cursing whichever deity was responsible for Junsu choosing tonight of all nights to need a change of pace. "Still. I don't think this is your idea of fun."

-that this doesn't have operational impact. Short and Lumpy isn't a target. The club is safe, it's afterward that we should worry about.

I'm going in, Mirajane said confidently. Youngsoo offered no resistance.

Hear that, Yunho? Haeun teased. Better start making yourself the biggest target around.

"Come on, dance!" Junsu chided. "I'm starting to think you don't want to spend time with me, and that's just sad, you know? What's a couple of songs between friends, huh?"

A break in the wave. Just as Yunho was about to get the feel of the music back, a small group of dancers moved imperceptibly to the right and Yunho found himself locking eyes with a man who was staying way too still by the bar, when even the least involved guests were swaying awkwardly to the beat of the crowd. Leather jacket – Yunho noticed because who wore leather to a club outside of Gotham and Chains Night?

They say that eyes are the windows to the soul.

A feeling of longing. Of intense desire. A moment of perfect clarity despite the controlled chaos of the dance floor.

Yunho felt both flattered and creeped out.

"Hey," Junsu whispered not too softly, jerking Yunho away from his thoughts.

"What?" Yunho cocked his head closer. "You'll have to speak up, this isn't exactly the place for intimate conversations—"

Junsu leaned in. Yunho ignored the sudden memories of skinship that had once sparked a million fangirls' dreams. Junsu bit his lips, hesitated for a short moment, then pitched his voice low and asked the question that every idol eventually found themselves grappling with. "Have you ever learned how to spot an anti-fan?"

Yunho looked oddly at him. Junsu looked calculating – not a common expression on such a good-natured face. It was a valid question, one that even the most experienced celebrities had never yet fully answered. Just as the truest fans could sometimes be the most unobtrusive, the most passionate anti-fans could sometimes be the most supportive. Until they revealed their true colors.

Yunho chanced a glance behind him. It was a quick move, quick enough to catch an offbeat jerk of the head from a fragmented group of dancers close by. A blink of a scene that the strobe light burned right into Yunho's memories.

There was no mistaking that expression. It was the same one Changmin wore when the managers finally talked to them about Jaejoong, Yoochun, and Junsu – what Yunho had been suspecting all along and what Changmin just didn't want to hear. It was the moment that taught Yunho the truth about crimes of passion. That maybe murder could be a split-second decision.

Artists learned to be highly in tune with the emotions of the crowd.

"I guess we trust our instincts," Yunho told Junsu, trying not to show the sudden rush of adrenaline and... what was this...? Righteous anger?

A sudden rush of perspective?

A single man can change the whole world.

Yunho's smirk turned a little too manic. "I guess it's time to find out. Cover me."

Junsu raised his eyebrows in confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

Gotcha, Hwoarang said.

Don't get carried away, Haeun cautioned him, reprimand vibrant all over her voice. Leave the snooping to us professionals. Mirajane?

I am here, unnie, Mirajane said tersely. I lurk nearby.

"Hey." Junsu grabbed Yunho's elbow before the latter could make his way across the dance floor. "What, are you crazy?"

"Don't worry about me, I've got a friend in the crowd don't I?" Yunho tugged his arm free and left Junsu processing the half lie. He wondered if he should feel guilty for manipulating Junsu's sense of competence... but then, he'd been Junsu's leader once. Time had called for him to do worse things.

Smooth, Haeun remarked.

Greasy, Hwoarang opined.

Mirajane had no comment.

Someone slid a drink to Yunho's hand as soon as he reached the bar, someone whose sleeves glinted polished leather. "Cheers." Eyes that felt both acquainted yet unfamiliar at the same time. The same intense gaze of longing that Yunho brushed aside just minutes ago. Eyes that looked at him as if all these layers of clothes didn't stand in the way.

"Thanks, but I don't really accept drinks from strangers," Yunho said, dismissively confident, playing the role and knowing that this type of rejection didn't really put anyone off these days. The man raised his glass in toast and downed his drink in one shot.

Guy in a black button-up going for the bar, Haeun said in Yunho's ear. I don't think he's just looking for some beer. Hwoarang-

I'm on it.

Yunho felt the presence before the person who owned it. A thick feeling in the air, a sense of turmoil, like a delayed punch to the gut that Yunho saw coming but didn't react to quickly enough. "Got a minute?" the man asked lightly, although Yunho could hear clearly how much restraint it took for the man not to growl his question instead.

"I'm a busy guy," Yunho answered, feigning complete disinterest and looking squarely at the dance floor. He saw Junsu dancing with a small group of starstruck college students who kept smiling like they couldn't believe their luck. For the first time Yunho felt glad that Junsu was around.

Well, maybe not. If he had to be honest Yunho would much rather not have anyone else involved, but since someone else was already here anyway at least that someone was Junsu.

Once, long ago, in a dance studio he ran to in the middle of the night, Yunho felt that five was good number for a group. Once, five men had been able to change the whole world.

"I'm saying maybe you should find a minute," the new guy said, and this time there was no mistaking the growl.

A flirtatious laugh from nearby, a giggled "Oppa, why did I fall in love with you?" that was cut short when a man whose arms could seduce the whole dance floor started making out with his date. Yunho caught a glimpse of lips painted the color of aged wine before he started feeling indecent for watching.

Under normal circumstances the right thing to do was to walk away and not get involved. But then, Mirajane did say that they had the place surrounded. Tonight was no normal night out. And Yunho had friends in the crowd.

The time was right. There's no better team.

Yunho shook his head and put on that belittling smirk he'd practiced in front of the mirror over years and years of being reminded about the differences between 'us' and 'them'. Never mind that deep down he and the fans were no more than just people who walked different roads in life. Idols had to convince the audience that they were a world of glamour apart.

A glare for a glare. Yunho recognized the signs of careful fury. The eyes of a man who contained his anger just enough to keep from exploding.

Idols were masters of provocation.

Yunho nodded at him – a mockery of their pretend equality – and jerked his head to a dimly lit hallway that lead to a fire exit in the back alley. He didn't wait for the man's acknowledgement; Yunho may not have been a trained behaviorist but he knew all about barely-contained fury. He didn't have to doubt that the man would follow.

He'd learned to sense when people were on his heels. That was basic idol survival.

We have people outside watching that exit, said Mirajane, but there's a stretch of hall that's not covered by surveillance-

And you thought to mention this only now? Hwoarang interrupted. 'Alarmed' didn't quite capture the intensity in his voice.

Yunho had just enough time to think uh-oh before he heard his follower's footsteps change beat.

Even on stage, a misstep could be turned into adlib choreography by a sharp mind and a well-honed body. Dancers rarely fought by fist, but dance was all about bodily command. There was an exact state of mind that could translate grace to power.

Yunho twisted aside at the last instant, just at the right moment for the man's fist to graze his cheek and slide off his sweaty makeup. At the back of Yunho's mind the tiny insane part of his brain (that he'd inherited from Heechul) giddily thanked the makers of greasy foundation all over the world.

But the greater Yunho was more grounded, and though distant the muscle memory of a childhood of hapkido was ready to be called to front.

He spun on the balls of his feet, grabbed the man's elbow tightly and thrust the heel of his other hand towards his assailant's nose.

A basic lesson in self-defense: breaking the nose leads to tears. Tearful people were half-blind.

An ex idol trainee. Male. Probably a dancer. Haeun's words from earlier this evening. His level of talent doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels jilted.

The man twisted away with the same, familiar grace that Yunho used just a split-second prior, and Yunho was left with no doubt that whatever stopped this man from being idol, lack of talent definitely wasn't it. The man was good.

But no time to muse about that now.

Yunho stuck a knee forward and lunged too deep into the man's space for punches to be of any use. He spun his torso and bore his momentum through his shoulders to shove the guy with sheer blunt force, less about crushing bones and more about destroying balance. The man stumbled back and hit the wall, and slid down just in time to avoid Yunho's elbow jab.

That was bad.

Yunho didn't even feel the pain of the uppercut at first, all he knew was that the world suddenly dissolved in a flash of painful red light behind the dark of his eyes, and he lost all his breath and his lungs were demanding that he inhale right now this instant but his muscles weren't listening and the dull thump just now meant he hit the opposite wall and wow there was the pain—

He saw the man's fist closing in, slowed down in bullet time by all the adrenaline in his blood.

But he was in no condition to do anything about it. Except to brace his mind because his face was going to hurt-

Right from the edge of sight another hand shot out at lightning speed, grabbed the man's wrist just before it made contact with Yunho's face, and pushed the attacker off-balance. A quick blur of a hero in red – movement too fast for Yunho to follow – and the next moment Hwoarang had Yunho's attacker pushed hard against the wall with both hands stretched helplessly behind him.

"Careful, no breaking bones on private property," Haeun said as she strolled into Yunho's clearing line of sight. The man took one look at her and closed his eyes in submission. Outnumbered and definitely outclassed.

Good, Youngsoo commented flatly as if he was right there with them in the shadowed hall, as if everything happened according to plan. Use the backdoor, let's not advertise anything yet.

"You got it," Hwoarang said. "Anything you'd like to say while I'm not feeling so nasty, punk? Nothing? Good, I like friends who know when to keep quiet. Now don't do anything funny – just to let you know, I haven't broken anyone's bones all week and I'd like to keep it that way." Hwoarang pulled the man from his cozy meeting with the wall and marched him further down the hallway.

"Won't he get in trouble for that?" Yunho asked, still somewhat breathless as he pushed himself off the floor. He pressed a palm against his abs and felt the raw pain just beneath his skin. He won't be going topless for a while, not unless he wanted management to explode one way and the fans in another. "Handling someone so casually? Shouldn't there be legal language somewhere?"

Haeun raised an eyebrow at him. "For what? For stopping a fight between two private citizens while he was on his personal night out?"

There was nothing to do but stare as the adrenaline rush died down and the music started making itself heard once more. "What?"

"We didn't actually expect you to get into a fight, but it was a useful opening," Haeun said with a wink. "Besides, there's a reason why we didn't flash our badges right away." A quick glance at Yunho's expression. "Hey, I know it's dirty, but sometimes we have to fight dirty. The law doesn't always offer the sort of delicate handling we need for every situation."

If you're done with discussions of morality, Youngsoo's voice cut in sharply, Hyun Haeun-sshi, your job as a profiler awaits. Now.

"Go," Yunho said, trying not to wince. "I'll go back through the main exit. Besides, people are probably waiting for me back on the floor. I have to make a proper exit so the fans don't speculate about where I disappeared off to."

"Gotcha," Haeun said with a wink. "Make your exit as quickly as you can, we'll need your testament at the station."

Yunho took a few moments alone to recompose himself, to breathe steadily and wipe away the sweat of excitement with careful dabs of his handkerchief.

Soft footsteps approaching from the direction of the dance floor, barely unheard over the persistent thrumming bass. Yunho saw the leather jacket before the familiar grin. "Hey. I was looking for you."

"How many drinks do I have to turn down to get you off my back?" Yunho managed to say calmly, managed to snap back into his aloofly superior persona with the ease of practice. "I'm not interested, never will be." He squared his shoulders and headed back down the hall to the main area, ready to brush the man aside if he didn't give way.

But the stranger stepped to the right to let him through, even bowing slightly in pretend submission. Yunho ignored the mockery in the action and walked past-

A sharp prick in his lower back. A sudden tingling in his legs before his muscles turned to jelly. A brief flash of the floor as he almost collapsed, just before he slammed a palm against the wall to keep him somewhat upright.

"Quick reflexes. You're faster than the others," the man congratulated him from behind. "I guess I'll have to see more of that after you wake up."

Yunho, we have the wrong guy - Haeun's voice shouted in his ear.

No shit.

It took way too much effort to turn his head, way too long to register what must have happened. The man hid a hypodermic needle up his sleeve, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dowsed it with some clear liquid from a small liquor flask he kept in his jacket. It didn't take a huge leap of imagination to realize what it was.

The easy cheer in the man's smile brought home a sense of crawling doom. "Don't look so tired, you'll get plenty of rest soon."

But Yunho barely even heard it over the wheezy voice that boomed throughout the hall.

"HYUNG!"

The stranger was on the run with barely any moment of hesitation.

And Junsu was after him just as quickly, sprinting past Yunho on those short yet incredibly fast legs that allowed him to dominate the soccer field.

Junsu was not very good at math so the intricacies of momentum were entirely lost to him. But he was very good with speed.

The man had just enough time to twist the door handle before Junsu slammed bluntly into him, crushing them both against the cheap wood in a loud crash that Yunho knew just had to hurt even in this greatly slowed state of mind.

The problem was that Junsu was not a fighter, had never been in a fight in all his life, and had been very vocal about maintaining peace at all times. Junsu's ace in this confrontation was his build up. But up close and personal, he didn't have the right frame of mind to turn dancing into fighting.

Yunho pushed himself forward through sheer force of will, not believing himself helpless as the man pulled out his needle and close in on a still-dazed Junsu.

A swift whisper of a breeze grazed the edge of Yunho's ear. A quick flash of something white. And suddenly the man was clutching the side of his arm and stumbling back with the same rubbery grace that Yunho felt in his limbs. The struggle stopped too soon; he just wasn't moving anymore.

Precise, measured strides. Mirajane leaned beside Yunho and helped him stand up. A figure of complete and utter confidence, with the assurance of what she can do no matter how tiny her air pistol. After all, among the sharpshooters she was the very best. Like no one ever was. "I have him, unnie. The hallyu stars are safe."

Stars? Plural? Hwoarang asked, concerned.

"Yes, the short and lumpy one intervened just in time. Both are safe although slightly worse for wear."

"Who are you?" Junsu asked shakily. He took one glance at the downed man to make sure he was harmless before watching Yunho try to walk with unsteady legs. Yunho succeeded thanks only to Mirajane's assistance.

"A friend," Yunho managed to grumble loudly enough, despite lips that felt like they were made of lead. Junsu nodded and made his way over to carry the brunt of Yunho's weight.

"I am the secret weapon," Mirajane said shortly as they assisted Yunho to the end of the hall. No way could Yunho make a proper exit through the dance floor now.

The door slammed open. Hwoarang stormed through with his fists raised and relaxed his guard only when he saw the collapsed heap just beyond the door. Haeun was right on his heels.

"That's the guy," Yunho mumbled as their awkward group drew level with the other two. "He had drugs and everything."

Haeun peered into Yunho's eyes and sighed deeply. "We'll need to get you checked over, make sure he didn't use anything too destructive. Mirajane, get him to the hospital. Hwoarang and I will finish up at the station and get a statement from Yunho-sshi as soon as the doctors clear his health."

"What's going on?" Junsu asked. "Hyung, who are all these people?"

"They're..." Well, how could Yunho describe them? How could he really? "They're my idols. I'm a huge fan."

"Greasy," Hwoarang said with a sneer.

"Sweet," Haeun countered, then after mulling it over, "but yeah, also kind of greasy."

Mirajane had no comment.

The doctors wanted to keep Yunho under observation for twenty-four hours, which was about forty-eight hours longer than Yunho's managers wanted to allow. Inspector Youngsoo's intervention managed to get him twelve hours of medical leave and honestly that was a whole day more than Yunho thought he was going to get.

The doctors who came to see him wore strained expressions, which as far as Yunho was concerned was good news: if they weren't fake smiling then he was probably going to be okay.

"It was just a muscle relaxant," Haeun told him. "Medical-grade, even, so there won't be any lasting damage. I think the doctors are just concerned about the possibility of an overdose." Haeun grinned. "And I think they want to keep you away from your managers right now."

Yunho laughed at the truth in that. One of the managers had suggested pumping Yunho with stimulants so he could make up for lost rehearsal time. The doctors had been very vocal about what they thought of that suggestion. "Well. I'm still alive, aren't I? And I've been through worse."

Whatever reaction he'd been expecting Haeun to have, a bitter smile wasn't at the top of Yunho's list. "You came very close," Haeun said solemnly, "to experiencing a form of hell on earth that nobody deserves."

According to Haeun, the district's vast resources of citizen identification databases led to a goldmine of peripheral information that Youngsoo coordinated quickly to his counterpart in the search and rescue team. Youngsoo hustled his group to assist in the rescue initiative as soon as Mirajane announced that Yunho was safely in the hospital's custody.

Haeun looked like she hadn't slept for three days by the time she came to Yunho just before dawn. She wouldn't tell him what they found; she deferred that decision to Youngsoo instead, whom she promised would personally visit Yunho for some need-to-know disclosure.

Still, Haeun had her own fair share of stories to tell. "That guy who assaulted you first. Didn't he look familiar?" Yunho's furrowed eyebrows were answers enough. "Apparently, you knew each other years before. From a dance group in Jeonlado?"

A vague flash of memory that didn't resolve into anything definite, no matter how much Yunho pursued the thought. "But I left that group a decade ago."

Haeun shrugged tiredly. "Not all wounds are healed by time. Some wounds fester and rot when left too long. His anger is not your mistake, Yunho-sshi," Haeun clarified as he saw Yunho's face darken. "You left the group to pursue your dreams, and you were free to do that. That he felt you should have shared your success with them is not your fault. He never made the choice to stop hurting even all these years past. That isn't up to you."

"Lost dreams, huh?" Yunho said quietly.

"Few people are as lucky as U-Know Yunho."

Not that Yunho had to be reminded. That was how the world worked, and it worked so consistently that Yunho had learned to turn his eyes away from the bitter reminders every day.

The door opened. Youngsoo entered, looking no worse for wear than any other time Yunho saw him.

Haeun gathered her things and stood up. "I'd better go. This isn't a talk I want to be around for."

"Get some sleep," Youngsoo told her as she bowed.

"Yes, sir," Haeun answered in tones that clearly said maybe not in this reality but maybe alcohol will help. Then to Yunho, "It was great working with you, hallyu star-sshi. I'll try to catch your next concert. Hopefully I won't be too busy with, you know, saving the world or whatever."

"Your backstage passes are on me," Yunho called after her just as she closed the door. Youngsoo took her place on the bedside chair.

"I doubt she'll attend your concerts," Youngsoo said as he opened his briefcase and sorted through the files.

"That's too bad. But I'm sure we idols aren't the only busy people in the world."

"That is true, but that's not the main reason. What do you think about passion, Jung Yunho-sshi?"

"I could say so many things," Yunho admitted. "But I know that you're looking for a specific answer. I don't know which one to give."

"During her teenage years, Hyun Haeun was part of an idol group that disbanded before they could make their mark." Youngsoo passed Yunho a laminated album cover in varying shades of pink and purple. "Glitter came out in late 2003 as the rising sun of the girl group genre. They then disbanded early the following year after their debut received lukewarm response at best. That is, unfortunately, the most one could say about them. Hyun Haeun, their leader, went on to live a private life until she became the woman you know today. She kept this aspect of her past a secret until we were assigned this case, and even then she revealed it only to me."

"What for?" Yunho asked, surprised. In the brief time he'd known Haeun she had never shown even a moment of self-doubt. "I mean, sure Hwoarang can be a bit brash and maybe Mirajane won't get all the fuss, but I don't think it would have been a big deal?"

"It is to her." Youngsoo gently took back the album cover and carefully hid it beneath all the other contents of his briefcase. "Haeun is a living testament to finding happiness in life even if one had not been able to pursue his or her dreams. Even to this day, performing on stage is still what Haeun dreams of doing. But even though she doesn't get to do it for a living, it does not mean that Hyun Haeun is not living a happy and fulfilled life."

Yunho can attest to that. And it wasn't just Haeun; Yunho had countless friends from training days who didn't get to debut, but they emailed each other every once in a while and by and large everyone seemed happy. The most powerful dancer in their batch couldn't stay in tune no matter how hard he tried. Barely two years as a kitchen hand later, he won a scholarship to study in one of the most prestigious schools for the culinary arts in Italy.

The inspector's voice took on the detached tone that Yunho thought he should be famous for. "Sadly, not everyone handles disappointment so constructively. Haeun, among countless other failed idols and trainees, eventually moved on and found niches for themselves. But a rare few – and thankfully they are so few – bottle the devastation inside themselves, where it rots and turns into a form of anger that corrupts the rest of their mind. This is the kind of person you faced last night."

But then that man didn't seem angry at all, not with how he grinned so easily and teased even as he methodologically incapacitated an idol in a half-hidden hallway of a populated club.

"Kim Minjun is alive," Youngsoo interrupted Yunho's thoughts without preamble, leaving Yunho to follow the discussion on his own, "in a... very specific sense of the word. The doctors are working hard to stabilize his condition and the therapists assured me that their program will rehabilitate his body enough for him to be able to eat unassisted once more. Unfortunately, returning to his life as an idol is out of the question."

The words and their echoes took too long to fade. The horror was there to stay.

"And... Dongwoo? And Junhyung?"

Youngsoo's return to an expression of blankness was informative. "Jung Yunho-sshi. It takes practice to live a life where every night's sleep is an invitation for gruesome dreams."

"It's a good thing I don't get much sleep, then."

Youngsoo's lingering glance at the determination in Yunho's eyes had the same detached distance that the company's instructors used on their trainees. Everything was an exam. He drew out a single manila folder – thin and light enough to suggest that there was only one sheet inside – from the depths of his case and delicately placed it on Yunho's lap.

Still. Some things had to be pursued. "What will you tell Beast? What will you tell Infinite? 2PM? What will you tell their families?"

Whatever silent exam it was, Youngsoo's long-suffering sigh was human enough for Yunho to live with. "We will tell them enough of the truth for closure and healing to still be possible. In some instances, the fewer that people know the better they can live their lives. Not all censorship is evil; sometimes we keep secrets for the sake of the very same people who must not know about them. It is not up to us to determine what Jang Dongwoo and Yong Junhyung will be remembered for, but in honor of their memories they should not be remembered for this."

Yunho stared at the blank, unassuming folder that blended so well with the hospital's blanket.

It was all too late to do anything else. It's become a matter of memories concealed behind cheap white cardboard, kept secret from the people whom the fallen would call their own families.

A careful flick of the wrist to indulge a filtered truth: two young men, both hauntingly familiar, bleached porcelain white and carefully dressed in idols' clothes propped like mannequins caught in mid dance. Bright futures reduced to these, all because they lived a dream denied to somebody they didn't even know.

Yunho said nothing more even as Inspector Youngsoo gathered all his files and promised him one last visit in the very near future. Bureaucracy commanded that some papers be signed, though now wasn't exactly the right time and Youngsoo only acknowledged that out of respect for Yunho's contributions.

They say that someone is not truly dead until the last ripples of their life have faded away. Until the last fruits of the seeds they planted have been gathered and eaten. Until the last block of wood they chopped have been burned in the furnace. Maybe, in this day and age, until the last echoes of the songs they sang have stopped playing in the memories of those who loved them.

Maybe through memories people can really live on.

But then, if memories were made of only good things then what Yunho had were not the substance of reminiscences.

Still. Reality cared nothing for kindness.

The least Yunho could do was to remember the truth.