A/N Watching the making of BTD had me really close to crying... I had to write something mushy after it :D

Inapropriate thoughts

Filming the action parts of Before the Dawn had been physically and mentally demanding, but Myungsoo had kept focused and maintained a smile on his face whenever there was a break. If not for any other reason, then at least for Woohyun’s sake. He was obviously feeling even worse.

When Myungsoo returned to the dorm, beaten and battered, he found Sungjong lying on his bed, skipping through one of Myungsoo’s manhwas. All limbs and hardly any meat on his bones, blonde hair tied on a pony tail and legs moving comfortably to the rhythm from his headphones, Myungsoo was suddenly very happy that it wasn’t the maknae going through this.

He crouched down next to the boy and blew on his neck, making Sungjong jump in surprise, the back of his head nearly hitting Myungsoo’s chin. Sungjong’s brows were furrowed as he snapped the headphones of and turned to glare at his disturber. Being the object of all of his hyungs "love" had gotten him a bit jumpy. The expression melted to one of wonder when he recognized Myungsoo.

“How was the shoot? Are you alright?” Sungjong pried. Finally, someone asked how he was doing, rather than Woohyun. Myungsoo smiled at the thought and sat next to Sungjong on the mattress. He fixed Sungjong’s overgrown bangs in a natural gesture as he answered: “I think the result will be really cool. And I’ll be fine once I get a good night’s sleep”. Sungjong nodded, his eyes already gravitating towards the comic.

Myungsoo let his fingers comb through the soft locks of hair for a peaceful minute until he asked; “Can you massage me?” Sungjong’s attention remained somewhere else; “Hmm... Shouldn’t you go ask Dongwoo or something? If it’s me then I’ll probably end up making things worse”. “I’m sure you’ll do fine” Myungsoo tried. Sungjong finally put away the booklet and sighed; “Yeah, alright then. But you can’t complain if I end up like… fracturing your spine.” “I’m pretty sure I’ll be too paralyzed to complain if you manage to fracture my spine” Myungsoo chuckled. “So, with all that said, do you still want me to massage your back?” Sungjong laughed. “Sure” Myungsoo said as he took Sungjong’s place on the mattress, lying on his stomach. “But I do beg you to be gentle; my back has already been tormented enough for one day.”

Sungjong sat astride Myungsoo’s back, careful not to put his whole weight down. His long fingers began moving in circular motions along the dark haired boys lower back. “You can be a bit rougher, mind you” Myungsoo commented. He was actually enjoying this whole situation to the fullest. So much so, that he had to remind himself not to get too excited with someone like Sungjong running his fingers over his skin, rolling his hips as he moved to massage his shoulders.

Myungsoo blamed the hairstyle that seemed to bring out Sungjong’s feminine traits even more. But after knowing him for some time now that shouldn’t have been a problem. Maybe this was bound to happen. Seven guys living under one roof with a “no girls”-policy, of course people would get deprived. Well, it’s not like Myungsoo had had any proper experiences with the opposite , though. He hadn’t even kissed anyone, which should be considered a small miracle with his face.

Back to the point; why had he let his hormone filled brains lead him to this situation? Now he was lying on his stomach, an embarassing bulge pressing against the mattress with each of his friends movements above. “Thanks Sungjong, you really helped a lot” Myungsoo tried, praying that his words didn’t come out strangled. “No problem, I know you and Woohyun have been working really hard” Sungjong replied but didn’t stop his massaging.

Okay, time for plan B, Myungsoo thought and closed his eyes, trying to think of something as uny as possible. It was really hard to keep his mind on a right track, however, when all of his blood was flowing south. Umm… A dead cat (Sungjong would look so good with cat ears), ringworm of the nail (do not think of his feet, do not think of his feet… or his thighs, his hands, his collarbones, his lipss…) Myungsoo opened his eyelids quickly before more dubious images would flood his mind.

“Were you hurt today?” Sungjong asked suddenly. “I bit my lip” Myungsoo answered monotonically. “Really, that’s all?” Sungjong laughed. “And hurt my neck, probably got bruises on my stomach and back, and scratched my knees” Myungsoo recited. “Did you disinfect them?” Sungjong asked worriedly. “I didn’t want to bother the noonas; we were on a tight schedule” Myungsoo said. “Turn over; I want to have a look. How can you practice the scorpion with wounded knees?” Sungjong demanded while getting of Myungsoo’s back. Myungsoo tried not to miss the heat.

“Not right now, I just want to lay here.” Myungsoo said, but Sungjong was as determined as ever. “It won’t take long. Turn around. Now.” Sungjong worked his arms under his friend’s belly in an attempt to flip him over. Myungsoo grabbed his wrist; “Don’t. Just… I can’t right now”. Sungjong finally caught on the weird stuffiness of Myungsoo’s voice. His eyes shifted between Myungsoo’s pleading eyes and his wrist as realization hit him. Sungjong pulled his hands away very swiftly and diverted his gaze. His face gained a pinkish hue.

Silence.

Seconds ticked away as they both stayed frozen still.

 “I think I’ll go then” Sungjong’s voice fluttered as he shifted to get up. “Umm, will you let go of my hand?” he asked, and only then Myungsoo realized that he was still holding the younger one’s wrist. Awkward. When he eased his grip Sungjong sprung up like a jury-rigged bow and left the room. He didn’t even stop to pick up the unfinished manhwa or his mp3 player.

God that was awkward.

--

Sungjong didn’t end up avoiding him. After the other’s arrived he even patched up Myungsoo’s knees. But Myungsoo did get the feeling that something weird was going on with the maknae. Whenever he thought Myungsoo wasn’t looking, he’d stare at him from the corner of his eye. Appraisingly, Myungsoo thought and shiwered. And then he realized that they were never alone in the same room anymore. It was quite subtle; somehow Sungjong would just find something to do somewhere else. That was to be expected, but it still hurt Myunsoo a bit.

Then, after a week of peculiar looks and clever avoiding, Sungjong sought him out.

“Were you thinking of me?” he asked suddenly at the backstage of a consert. They were sitting on a bench in a deserted room; the first ones to finnish make-up. Myungsoo choked on nothing and started coughing vigorously. “Huh?” he asked finally, a forceful cry that came out whenever he was caught off guard. “You know… that time” Sungjong’s voice trailed off. Myungsoo knew very well. The thought of their little massage session had been possessing him since it happened. He glanced at Sungjong; the boy’s face was covered by locks of nearly white hair, but his tightly squeezed hands and red earlobes spoke volumes.

There was no way he could tell the truth. Sungjong would probably freak out and start feeling seriously awkward around him, worst case he’d start avoiding him altogether.

Or maybe, just maybe, he’d feel the same? A cruel voice whispered in the back of Myungsoo’s baffled head. Myungsoo took a look at Sungjong again, but the boy raised his head at the same time. His eyes were large, shocked even. Maybe he’d interpreted the silence as compliance?

Words, where were they when most needed? Maybe all that time spent silent had caused his ability to speak to degenerate? They kept staring at each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity (but was probably closer to a few seconds) as thousands of possible conversations ran feverishly through Myungsoo’s mind, but no words came out.

The excess amount of information must have caused Myungsoo’s brain to short-circuit, because he suddenly found himself leaning forward. His lips met the soft skin on Sungjong’s cheek; the boy had turned his head at the last moment.

 “I’m sorry”, Myungsoo retreated immediately. Sungjong stared back with an unreadable expression. At some point the maknae had become immensely good at putting on faces that Myungsoo simply couldn’t decipher.

“I take that as a yes.” Sungjong said after a small pause, and smiled shyly.

Myungsoo was at a loss. Sungjong smiled? He hadn’t slapped him or run off, but smiled?! And shyly, at that.

 “But seriously, were you going to steal my first kiss like that? Zero warning” Sungjong continued with a pout. But his eyes were twinkling, like he could burst into a smile anytime. “Wha- I- it would have been my first, too!” Myungsoo exclaimed. “Shh, you’re ruining the moment” Sungjong cut in, pressing his index finger on Myungsoo’s lips to elaborate.

Talk about hypocrite.

Then Sungjong’s face was suddenly completely serious; Myungsoo recognized the look from when they were just about to step on stage, nervous yet concentrated. There was no turning back now. Sungjong was going to kiss him back, wasn’t he? Myungsoo really wanted to his lips; they felt like sandpaper. But how would that look?

Sungjong’s lips were trembling as they brushed against Myungsoo’s ever so lightly. The touch was tingling, like those vocal exercises where they had to chant “ohm” with a partly closed mouth. Or that feeling when someone else brushes a feather against your skin.

Myungsoo almost felt like rubbing the itchy feeling away. Then he caught Sungjong’s eyes and decided this was worth all the tickling in the world. He pecked Sungjong’s upper lip testingly. It was soft, of course, and entirely unlike anything he’d ever tasted. There was an embarrassing smack-sound when he pulled back, however. It made Sungjong giggle nervously, and at that moment Myungsoo was pretty certain that it was the most beautiful sound in the whole wide world.

--

A/N And that night the both of them got scolded by leader-Gyu for being absentminded on stage. But who would blame them? ;]