Myungsoo doesn’t have a direction. His forward thinking capabilities are not functioning well tonight. He lets his feet take them where they will. Finding himself heading for the gents, Myungsoo supposes that’s not a bad idea – or, at least, it’s one of the less embarrassing outcomes to this unplanned, immediately regretted escape. He supposes so until he notices that there’s a queue. Stopped short, he lingers behind a muscular guy who’s watching dog vines on his phone. Myungsoo wonders what he ought to do. Weirdly, there’s no queue for the ladies and, for a brief, terrible moment, he weighs up the pros and cons of hiding out in there. Fortunately, a hand lands on his shoulder before he can make himself look even more stupid. Myungsoo turns inelegantly. He is now face to face with a troubled looking Sungyeol.

“Let’s talk,” the actor says. His voice is strong but his gaze is on his feet. When he looks up, his eyes fall on Myungsoo, his determination is clear on his face. This moment oddly coincides with Myungsoo experiencing a sudden shortness of breath and increased heart rate. “C- Can we?” Sungyeol’s determination slips a little, uncertainty fluttering through.

“Yeah, sure,” Myungsoo mumbles. Although the actor probably couldn’t hear him well above the music, he turns and makes his way towards the exit. Myungsoo trails behind him helplessly.

They end up on a metal bench on the pavement outside the club. It’s damp from a recent rain shower but, seeing as Sungyeol didn’t mention anything, Myungsoo decides he’d best not point it out and add ‘nitpicky’ to Sungyeol’s reasons for hating him. The actor offered him a cigarette from an embossed case with a rather grumpy looking mermaid design. When Myungsoo declined, Sungyeol lit his own and has methodically smoked it down in a couple of minutes. He drops the on the ground, stamps it under the soles of his shiny Jimmy Choo sneakers, and pops a cube of gum in his mouth. Myungsoo recalls the taste from earlier, the sugary melon scent wafts through his head. Despite himself, he wonders if it’s the same type of gum. Maybe Sungyeol comes in a variety of flavours.

“I’m sorry,” Sungyeol announces with a long sigh, interrupting Myungsoo’s train of thought. Myungsoo only stares at him, so Sungyeol goes on, cheeks reddening the more he talks. “I didn’t mean to get in between you and Dongwoo-sshi. I didn’t know you and he were a thing. Sorry. I wasn’t going to go over. I wasn’t. But Gyu-hyung sort of nagged me into it. Come to think of it, I’m not really sure how he did that. At the time, going over felt way more reasonable than it does now in, like, in hindsight and stuff… So, yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss you.”

Myungsoo squints into the middle distance. Events have helped him sober up a little and, he has to say, he’s confused.

“I kissed you though.”

A spasm seems to wrack Sungyeol’s body. It resembles a seconds-long tantrum. Afterwards, Sungyeol glares at Myungsoo coolly, cheeks still tomato-like.

“Don’t with me. It’s mean. I know you can’t stand me, so like –”

“Yeah, I can’t!” Myungsoo yells, latching on to this one certainty in a sea of weirdness. Hurt constricts Sungyeol’s throat and he grimaces. But Myungsoo doesn’t notice before the actor’s already fixed his expression to something more neutral, like he’s used to doing around this man. “And… I’m not a thing with Dongwoo-hyung. No thing.”

Sungyeol shuffles on the bench, chewing furiously on his gum and crossing and uncrossing his legs in a manner that Myungsoo personally considers rudely distracting. (The gum, Myungsoo’s adjudged, smells like cherry flavour, or maybe grape). The actor peers at Myungsoo out of the corner of his eye.

“You were kissing him,” he points out, a questioning note in his voice.

Myungsoo stutters,

“No, I – I mean, I was, but… Hey, that was just… It’s just kissing. In fact, I’d barely touched him when… Right.” He awkwardly forces himself to shut his mouth.

“Oh.”

Myungsoo has to assure Sungyeol one more time that he’s not dating Dongwoo. Myungsoo’s formulating the beginnings of a theory. Maybe Sungyeol has a crush on the stylist. Maybe he’s putting up with Myungsoo’s company because he wants to be introduced. Ohhh, he must have been jealous. Pitiful guy… The actor once again interrupts his thoughts by asking,

“So does that mean it was mutual?”

“Me kissing Dongwoo?” Myungsoo checks, baffled. Is he going to have to assure Sungyeol it’s OK to make a move? For a guy who takes so many ‘manly’ roles, Sungyeol’s sure lacking balls. More importantly, will Myungsoo really have to play Cupid tonight? For Lee Sungyeol of all people? Myungsoo’s stomach feels unsettled.

“No. I meant, well, you and I. Was it mutual?” Sungyeol’s voice becomes a squeaky whisper towards the end. He’s resolutely maintaining Myungsoo’s gaze. But Myungsoo can see how his leg is shaking and he’s digging his nails into his palms. Sungyeol is anything but calm. Yet, perhaps Myungsoo’s not so cool-headed himself. He feels his eyes flutter and, before he’s realised it, he’s gazing at his hands and babbling nonsense.

“I guess. I don’t remember very well, honestly. You were just suddenly there. And I mean – I mean to say, it wasn’t not mutual. I think –”

“CosIlikeyou!”

Myungsoo shudders to a halt, uncertain if he actually heard that from the man beside him or if it was something else and his brain is playing tricks on him. When he looks to his side, Sungyeol’s eyes are boring into him. His eyes are big and almost frightened. His face is scarlet – not so different from his hair, messy from compulsively raking his fingers through it. His leg shaking is turning into a serious sort of tremor. Myungsoo gulps.

“Because I like you,” Sungyeol repeats, forcing his voice out slowly, “Gyu-hyung was always telling me I should go for it and I was always telling him he was talking out his arse. But tonight I… Well. Well, he basically gave out to me until I promised to tell you and then, then you… But obviously you don’t feel the same way about me, huh? You were just drunk and I got in the way. I get it. So if this is awkward, it’s totally all Gyu-hyung’s fault and you should blame him entirely! But I, er, I just wanted you to know.”

Sungyeol trails off. He bites his lip nervously. Myungsoo watches a breath escape on the cold night air, the scent of his gum following it. He feels like his feet have been kicked out from under him. Accordingly, his stomach does a flip when he looks at Sungyeol waiting anxiously. Myungsoo’s not anything like sober enough to make sense of this. Sungyeol can’t stand him. He knows Sungyeol can’t stand him. He was always avoiding Myungsoo, not making eye-contact, refusing to work with him. He even…

“You could say something,” the actor grumbles dejectedly. His leg isn’t shaking any more, but his feet are scuffing the pavement. His back slouched, he’s the picture of misery.

“You didn’t want to work with me. You told Hoya I was weird.”

Sungyeol whips around to face him so quickly his neck must ache. If his eyes seemed big bfore, they’re like glistening, glass saucers now.

“No! I… Well, I did. But it’s… I was scared, OK?! I didn’t know how to act around you. It was right after that intense shoot we did last summer. It felt awkward and I thought I’d say something stupid.”

Myungsoo just hums, staring ahead, deep in thought. (Well, deep-ish). He can feel Sungyeol’s eyes on him. Eventually, the actor gets fed up of waiting, Myungsoo assumes, because he jumps up with a sigh.

“Ah, my arse is wet,” he complains, batting at his jeans and cotton jacket that have been soaking up the rainwater on the bench. He takes a few steps to deposit his gum in a bin, then turns to Myungsoo. He says something about heading back in. The photographer doesn’t quite catch what. That fissure, it’s been torn open. An overly tall idol with hair dyed a ridiculous shade or red and limbs with a mind of their own came tumbling in. Myungsoo feels like he’s landed after his legs were kicked out from under him and the landing has knocked the breath from his body.

He catches up with Sungyeol, who’s dragging his feet the short distance back to the club, and grabs his arm. Turning the man around, Myungsoo crashes his lips against Sungyeol’s. Honestly, that doesn’t work so well because Myungsoo’s co-ordination isn’t the best on a good day. When he’s been allowing Sunggyu to ply him with beer and cocktails all evening, it all goes somewhat to . He sort of falls heavily against Sungyeol’s cheek. However, he gets close enough on the second try. He feels the man in his arms shiver and melt. He hears Sungyeol gasp and lets himself be tugged closer, slender fingers in his shirt, as if the atoms of their beings could mix and be as one. Oh. It was cherry, he thinks.

“I might like you too,” he growls, voice gruff to scare away his shyness. He’s transfixed by Sungyeol’s eyelashes as they flutter.

“Oh,” the actor breathes, grip loosening and slowly untangling himself from Myungsoo, “Oh, OK. Cool.”

Myungsoo squeezes his hand. Blithely ignoring the side-eyeing from the bouncer who’s hopping around to keep himself warm, they walk back inside. Myungsoo doesn’t let go of his hand. This might sound more romantic than it is. Myungsoo’s having a little trouble with balance at the moment. His eyes keep winding back to Sungyeol. The action is familiar and Myungsoo can admit – in the privacy of his own head – that he may already have spent a sizeable chunk of his time staring at Sungyeol. That, as he told himself, was to solve the simple question of why Sungyeol hated his guts. Now Myungsoo has more questions and none of them seem simple. 

XXX

In which two idiots try to sort their sh*t out. I think that sums up this part, lol. 

There's one more part to go, but I'm going on holiday (yay~) so ye'll have to wait a little longer this time.