still forever hogging the elevator. PG-15
yeolsoo (& gyusin) pt. 2

don't wanna let you down but I am hell bound
though this is all for you, don't wanna hide the truth

Sungyeol cleared his throat distractedly, tore his gaze away from Myungsoo only to stare blankly at the glowing ‘National Suicide Prevention Lifeline’ and wondered if this was really just coincidence or has some sick higher power played a colossal joke on him, yet again, just because they had nothing better to do. ‘Oh, you’re bored? There’s still that Sungyeol kid in South Korea!’

“So, ever saw the girl again?” the older asked.

It hadn’t occurred to him until now that Myungsoo had been recounting his past story of a girl, who was most likely his first love. Well, . So, Sungyeol focused on the fact that he was talking to Myungsoo and that the latter was confiding in him. If he would just focus on that instead – the outside world, Sungyeol.

“By some twisted chance, yes.” Myungsoo’s lips twisted into a sullen smile. “Didn’t call it ‘The Three Times He Meets Death’ for nothing.”

Then, he glared unmoving at the ‘SUICIDE’ poster like it held some kind of personal vendetta against him—and it probably did.

“So that was the first time the boy encountered Death in a sense. And it because fate has been so damn twisted ever since,” Myungsoo threw one arm indicatively in the air, before placing it back on his knee. “The second time, still with all the hurt and all, the boy was like, I don’t know, fifteen? Sixteen? How old do you need to be to enter high school?”

Myungsoo turned his head to look at Sungyeol, who was picking at his nails, deep in thought.

“Uh, fifteen?” Sungyeol guessed because he didn’t remember either.

The storyteller sighed before leaning back against the wall, “Yeah. The boy moved to a boarding school, which was a dumb move but it happened none the less. It was like, on the other side of the— actually no, it was in Seoul, three hours away from his family.”

Sungyeol shifted in his spot, crossed his legs and sat on his hands, because his bones were becoming sore against the hard surface.

“Yeah, and…?”

“And, he met the girl. Again.” Myungsoo flashed him a wicked grin, “Because her family were still , so they stashed her in the boarding school far away where her ‘childhood couldn’t affect her’. Bull, I’m telling you.”

Sungyeol’s heart sank. Because, wow, her life still big time. And maybe also because this was Myungsoo’s love story with someone else? Hello? But he couldn’t afford to think that way, so he focused instead on the ‘her life still ’ part. Sungyeol couldn’t imagine what it would be like if any of them had to go through that. (The boy, too, met her again.) So if Myungsoo was here now instead of with her, well, Sungyeol didn’t really want to know the ending–because damn tragedies?! The girl was most probably dead by now—why else would Myungsoo still remember? It would be Death that did funny things to you (not that Sungyeol would know).

“What did he do, then? After he found her?”

“Nothing.” Myungsoo deadpanned. He stared down at his calloused hands, fringe covering his eyes. “I- Nothing.”

“…?” Sungyeol frowned, tilting his head sideways, fingers absently running over his broken lip. “Why?”

Myungsoo didn’t look up when he responded, “What would you have done? He went away because he wanted to leave. But he found her, was it a coincidence? He still doesn’t know. But she’s changed by then. Her hair was longer, her skin really pale. She was taller too—but still pretty short,” Myungsoo chuckled gloomily. "The boy asked the people there about her, and sure enough—smart, young, kinda rich, alone.

“They warned him not to get close. The girl bites, they said.” the visual scowled, “So he kept watch. He abandoned his initial plan—of making friends, doing people’s things, forgetting and just—” he gestured his hand at nothing in particular, "—you know. So, he abandoned that plan, but he didn’t have any other plans or enough courage to talk to her. Because, seriously, what could he say to make it all okay? ‘Hey remember me? Your ty best friend!’ ‘Good morning, I’m sorry about your dead brother’? there was nothing that would make it okay.

“The boy made a few friends anyway, mostly his roommates, and they called him ‘whipped’.” Myungsoo turned to stare at Sungyeol straight in his eyes. “And he probably was.”

Sungyeol ignored the way his heart felt like it was being squished and the unflattering sound it would make. He stared back, as unchanging as he could.

“One day–a year later, they were sophomores by then, and the boy hadn’t planned it but he thought he’d approach her that day. He was in track, you know, the running team. So he was late for practice—he was late because he went out to buy a birthday gift. That day was her birthday, see. When he came back he made his way to the girl’s locker, but then he saw him. Hell, the guy wasn’t from our school, but he was standing under the stairway, keeping an eye on the lockers. The boy recognised him and he knew, he just knew then that that piece of was after My—after the girl.”

Sungyeol frowned, “Who was he though? Some mafia?”

“No, idiot. It’s worse.” Myungsoo scowled, eyes dark. “It was him. The guy who murdered her brother.”

Sungyeol held his breath, “The friend? But what could he possibly want with her?”

Myungsoo feigned a careless shrug, “How would I know?”

Then a sarcastic grin appeared on his face as he turned his full body to face Sungyeol, who by now was half-lying down, the small of his back plastered to the floor, his shoulder blades and head rested against the wall, wiry legs propped up against the opposite. With a lot of effort, Sungyeol twisted his head towards Myungsoo.

Myungsoo was watching him so intensely that Sungyeol felt heat rise up his neck, making its way to his ears. He suddenly started feeling self-conscious, like ‘What the hell are you doing on the floor, ?’. But because Sungyeol was stubborn, he just cleared his throat and stayed put on the elevator’s floor. Just because he could.

“Let me guess,” Sungyeol muttered darkly. “She died, didn’t she?”

Myungsoo threw him a lopsided smile, “Not yet.”

∞∞∞

I close my eyes and the world drops dead
I think I made you up inside my head

Whatever Sunggyu had been thinking, he was not prepared for this. The hopeful clouds of failed brainstorming were mostly along the lines of, ‘Are you hungry? Oh by the way, while you were asleep I was having awkward thoughts about you’ or ‘Myungsin, tell hyung what you want and I’ll really get them for you—anything’ or the more reasonable ones, such as: ‘Oh you’re awake, by the way, do you happen to like older guys?’ and the typical, ‘This isn’t what it looks like!’

Sunggyu hadn’t realised Myungsin was stirring in her sleep. He may or may not have unconsciously scooted closer, one arm still around her shoulders and the other drawing patterns on her hand under his, as Myungsin dug closer to his chest, hands tugging onto his shirt, still.

Dude, his heart.

He didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. All the damn buffaloes. Or it could be his stomach growling. Or Myungsin’s. Since Sunggyu wasn’t sure anymore which part of him were hers and which of her were his. And he meant this in the most innocent way possible.

Sunggyu stared and stared at the high ceiling because he didn’t trust himself enough to stare at the girl and her thin clothing without having irrational urges to just lean a bit closer. Or something. He hadn’t felt a gentle tug of his shirt but he caught the rhythm of the girl’s breath missing its beats. So, Sunggyu curiously turned to his left only to find Park Myungsin blinking back at him.

“Hi,” Myungsin whispered, eyes dark, voice like water and barely audible.

“Hey,” replied Sunggyu. All thoughts gone. Flew out the damn window. Into the gutter.

She blinked languidly twice at him, tracing her gaze lethargically to his hand that was placed on top of hers. Myungsin hummed weakly and turned her palm over. Sunggyu’s heart missed a beat, and immediately started beating again when Myungsin interlaced their fingers together, instead of pulling away, even if idly.

“It’s you,” the girl muttered. Staring up at him and there was immense sadness in her eyes. It would’ve made Sunggyu’s heart drop to his feet if he had been standing. She looked disappointed.

“It’s me,” he agreed.

Myungsin pursed her lips, unclasped her fist on his shirt and began to smoothen the creases she’d made instead. The action made Sunggyu feel dark and dazed. It would be her, tidying things up after herself and everybody else. Sunggyu idly noted that they weren’t so different from each other.

Nothing else was said and silence followed.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He asked, moving down to match her eye level, his head falling on the same pillow with his front facing the patient. Her hair, in little tangles, were dark and long, her gown moulding to her slight outline and her pale appearance threatening to shatter into dust.

Myungsin watched him with no curiosity or any of her usual amusement. Sunggyu’s chest contracted painfully. Her hand stopped ironing out the creases of her making, and instead, laid flat on his chest. Right over his heart.

“Nobody… it’s just—” her voice wavered and she scrunched her eyes shut as if to cage her own sadness from hurting him too.

But the tears slipped through anyway. Right onto the little distance between their faces, onto her pillow, and suddenly, the short space between them felt unbelievably far apart. Sunggyu wondered if he could ever reach for her.

He made her cry.

“Hey,” Sunggyu hummed, his muscles coiling as he drew her close. “Hey, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, Myungsin-ah.”

She made a cute sniffle sound against his chest when he grazed a chaste kiss on the top of her head. His heart thudded.

“No, it’s just, I—” She tried to say, brittled lips against the scruff of his white shirt. “I thought—”

“Myungsin, it’s okay… you don’t need to tell me anything,” Sunggyu sighed into her hair, his lips accidentally brushed past her left ear. “We can do it when you’re ready… only when you’re ready. Yeah?"

She sniffled and her breathing after that became soft.

Myungsin replied after a moment, tugging her head comfortably under his chin, “Yeah…” then mumbled after a beat, “I’m sorry.”

Sunggyu frowned, fingers absently tapping on her shoulder blade, “What for?”

“Lots of things,” the girl murmured, nose idly brushing on his skin.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he stated. I think you’re really Right, he meant.

Sniff.

Silence followed many minutes after and Sunggyu was just about to drift off when Myungsin’s calmer tone summoned him back in a way that made his heart stop.

“Kim Sunggyu,” she said his name the same way he’d watched his mother do her prayers every night.

He hummed warmly in acknowledgement, finger gently drawing their names onto her spine.

"Kim Sunggyu…” The girl breathed into the crook of his neck, upper lip slipping past his shirt collar onto his skin.

"Yeah,” His voice arrived in an unlikely baritone (ignoring the urge to groan, he could’ve groaned but he didn’t—he didn’t).

A puff of her sigh tingled warmly on his neck.

“Kim…Sunggyu.”

Sunggyu slowly pulled away to properly look at her and possibly ask, ‘What is it?’. Myungsin glanced back at him with a mildest hint of life. They were only a breath apart because he could not afford to separate any more than this. She gingerly reached for his face, cool fingers gently smoothing the frown that had knitted between his brows. Sunggyu leaned into her touch with eyes fluttering shut.

When his frown eased, her fingers were gone.

“Park Myungsin.” Sunggyu blinked, taking her hand and entwining their mismatched fingers together once more. He hoped that if they did this often enough, she wouldn’t be able to tell them apart; which fingers were hers and which were his. Her knee pressed into him just below his belt as she softly shifted to make room for their hands. A heated jolt shot through his body with most of it rushing south.

"Sunggyu.” Myungsin said. He noted there was no honorifics. No hyung.

He had an unlikely urge to smile, “Myungsin.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parted as she breathed the three-inch of air between their faces into her lungs, intensifying Sunggyu’s chronic need to kiss her by about tenfolds. He pursed his own lips as if it could stop him from doing something rash.

“Kim Sunggyu.” She muttered his name like an incantation.

Her eyes fluttered open and they were lighter than before, he was certain of it. He leaned forward, their faces less than an inch apart. Sunggyu tried to restrain, but all his muscles felt like they were in a game of tug-o-war — only, everyone else was on the opposite end. There was such vehemence inside her he almost forgot to breathe — then the energy was snuffed out like a candle flame.

“Myungsin-ah?”

Myungsin wasn’t dead; life was inside her every breath. A little glimmer of hope, a little kindling fire lived in the brighter side of her, and damn it Sunggyu would throw himself into the dying flames just to keep the fire from burning out.

She deserved so much more than this. But Sunggyu’s hold already tightened on her, his steady hands splayed on her back. Her body jutted into him so strangely and with little familiarity, and yet they still fit together.

"Sunggyu-yah…”

This, was it.

∞∞∞

“Dude, don’t lie down like that. You’ll hurt your back.” Myungsoo commented flatly. Because really, who would be stupid enough to sprawl on the floor of a hospital? Okay, it was the psyche department but still, the chances of finding diseases crawling on the floor must still be pretty high.

Sungyeol crossed his arms over his chest, slid down further and gave no sign of cooperation, “And you care because?”

The words stirred something dark in a hollow of Myungsoo’s chest. Like a brewing of a storm. So he fought a grin onto his face, “Yeah, you’re right. Why would I care.”

Myungsoo waited for Sungyeol to show some sign, some hint of a reaction—of hurt.

It never came.

Sungyeol snorted, as if he knew what Myungsoo was thinking. But he couldn’t have, since the next thing he said was, “Dude, take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“I like the real thing better,” Myungsoo taunted. He found this snarky Sungyeol so endearing too. He’d become so lean and even more well-defined, and the gleams in his eyes were very different now, much harder—more like black steel, less like tinted glass. Then when Myungsoo made to shift his own legs, Sungyeol automatically stiffened. Like the older was afraid he would hurt him, or something. His reaction agitated Myungsoo.

“I know you find me very good looking — but you need to stop staring.” Sungyeol said to the poster, eyes not meeting his, face totally serious. Then when Myungsoo wouldn’t listen, the older sprung right up on one elbow to shoot him a glare. One of his legs was still propped on the wall, his hair tousled like he’d just woke up and his sweater had ridden up. Myungsoo wetted his lips. Sungyeol narrowed his eyes at Myungsoo suspiciously, as if trying to figure out what the younger was up to.

But Myungsoo had always been up to no good, so why bother?

The younger shifted experimentally. And Sungyeol quickly sat himself into a full sitting position, eyes flicking towards the elevator’s door. Myungsoo sat up on his knees, and Sungyeol scrammed off the floor into his full one-hundred-and-eighty-three centimetres. Something ugly tugged at Myungsoo’s gut, so he made to stand up, too, without a word.

Still not meeting his eyes, Sungyeol cleared his throat and glanced back to the blinking buttons behind himself again. “We should get out. We’ve been hogging long enough.”

“Sung—”

“I’ll open the door now.” The older spoke over him, expression blank as he stepped even further away from Myungsoo.

“Sung—“

“Which floor are you getting out, again?”

Myungsoo let out an agitated growl, his muscles coiling as he moved forward and snatched Sungyeol by his elbow. Before the older could even protest, he shoved his long limbs against the wall. The elevator shuddered.

“What the , Myungsoo!” Sungyeol yelled, strong hands at the scruff of the younger’s shirt the same way the younger fisted his.

“Listen to me.” Myungsoo ground out, jaw tensed as he pressed the older boy harder against it. “I need to tell you something.”

Sungyeol glared back at him, “You can’t just ing push me around and expect me to listen.”

And despite it all, Myungsoo couldn’t stop himself from retorting back, “Well, I just did.”

It wasn’t the best situation to taunt, but not that he cared. He watched as anger flashed inside his former best friend’s eyes as he shoved Myungsoo off of him, grabbed him by the collar and ran his spine into the metallic door. The air got knocked out of Myungsoo’s lungs at the impact.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe, I could just do the same to you?” Sungyeol seethed — on borderline of something like a threat.

Myungsoo smirked despite the circumstance, “You don’t have it in you.”

Sungyeol pulled Myungsoo off and shoved him back further against the sliding door, the back of his head hitting the metallic panels with a thunk.

“Maybe I wasn’t as screwed up as you.”

"You were just weak!” Myungsoo bellowed. And then a hard punch landed on his face, and the pain, . The hand his shirt was gone and so Myungsoo staggered to keep himself upright.

“You don’t know .” Sungyeol sounded a little more than miffed, as Myungsoo steadied himself against the door. "You. You don’t get to with me.”

Myungsoo rubbed his jaw and taunted, "You hit me once and you think you’re the ?”

He watched as Sungyeol gritted his teeth, muscles taut, jaw tense.

“I don’t like your twisted games,” The older spat. And then something rough and soft at the same time crashed onto Myungsoo’s lips. It was suddenly dark with Sungyeol blocking the lighting from his view. He let out a gasp when the older shoved one knee in between his thighs. Then Sungyeol pulled away just enough to hiss, “But if it’s the only way, then I’d have to compromise.”

.

Sungyeol’s kiss was feverish and rough, and damn it, this was better than how Myungsoo had pictured it. A groan escaped his throat, and Sungyeol pressed his leg harder against Myungsoo’s crotch. He groaned again. There was Sungyeol’s tongue in his mouth, so Myungsoo shoved it back with his tongue and then it was him that was kissing the older. His hands found their way to Sungyeol’s hair and raked his fingers through it because he’d always wanted to do that.

He could feel Sungyeol’s hands dig into his waist and Myungsoo was starting to feel dizzy from the lack of air — but he was full of sungyeolsungyeolsungyeol, so to hell with oxygen, Myungsoo didn’t need it.

“You’re such an , you know that?” Sungyeol murmured into his mouth; his voice was low and it vibrated down Myungsoo’s throat. Another groan escaped the younger and he really couldn’t reply. He didn’t want to do anything but let this go on forever. Sungyeol’s mouth left his and before he could protest, it was back on his jaw traveling down his neck in a wet trail.

“.” Myungsoo cussed, when Sungyeol’s teeth sunk into his neck so hard that Myungsoo was sure it must’ve broken through his skin. It ing stung but ugh he was too ed to care. Then he couldn’t even swear anymore because Sungyeol had just pushed his knee harder against Myungsoo’s crotch, so all he could do was remind himself to breathe.

end of 24:
break the heart of the one you love to serve the one you fear
so used to self abuse by now because the end is always near