Sungjong knew he couldn’t stay in his house forever. He would have to go back to Myungsoo eventually, but he was not looking forward to going back more because of his lashing out than anything. He never lost control like that. It was out of his character to lose control. Maybe he was a diva…sometimes, but lee Sungjong was completely in control of his emotions, especially when he had a stunted Lund's mate who didn’t give a about him. Okay. That wasn’t true. He knew Myungsoo gave a about him, but he was allowed to hurt. He could hurt as much as he wanted holed up in his grandfather’s house, tracking the way his need for contact would grow and peck at him until he couldn't stand it anymore. The kicker was, he was suspecting that he and Myungsoo were type II Lund’s sufferers.

He was pretty sure his grandpa got the gist of what was going on, but he didn’t care to talk about it. He didn't want to talk about anything. He wanted to stay in his room and sulk, so he was grateful when he came home with his bag and probably looking terrible, that his grandfather just frowned deeply, concerned but said nothing. He ran a fond hand over Sungjong's head and let him run away to his room. Sungjong knew his grandfather would have his favorites ready for breakfast ready in the morning.

His phone rang once in the middle of the night and Sungjong closed his eyes and knew it was Myungsoo. He could practically see Myungsoo with his head in his hands, sitting on the couch and hoping fervently that Sungjong would pick up. Sungjong tried hard not to let the affection seep through their connection, just in case Myungsoo was trying to feel out for him.

The next morning when he came down for breakfast, grandfather’s concerned frown quickly became a poor mask for disguising his agitation. Sungjong didn't ask what was wrong because he knew his grandfather wouldn't be able to keep it in long. He knew he was right when his grandfather set his glass down with a loud tap and abandoned his food.

"I want you two to see a doctor. Immediately."

Sungjong sighed and rubbed at an eye; he hadn't slept well, and he wasn't sure if it was because he himself couldn't sleep, or because Myungsoo couldn't sleep, but his skin felt like it was crawling off and his muscles ached.

"I won't ask what happened, but if you're like this after one night, this boy needs to get over himself. For both of your sakes."

"I know," Sungjong replied softly. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that his imprint would never reciprocate his feelings; he wasn't ready to think seriously about what it would mean for them to be type II. "We will." He promised.

He didn't want to see Myungsoo again so soon; he still felt raw from Myungsoo's accusation and sick to his stomach when he thought about how much Myungsoo didn't want him. Sick when he thought about how he'd let his own lust affect Myungsoo and how he'd let himself think it had been Myungsoo's own feelings. Did that make it nonconsensual? Sungjong closed his eyes against a bout of nausea at that thought. He didn't want to go back, but he knew the unease that had settled over him wouldn't leave until they were together again. Still Sungjong tried to hold out as long as he could before he went back. As long as he could was really decided by his grandfather, though, when he saw that Sungjong's hands shook when he poured himself a glass of water. It was decided for him then.

Sungjong spent the walk to Myungsoo's auto-shop wondering what Myungsoo was feeling but fearing to reach out and find it himself.

Woohyun, as always, sat behind the counter, earphones in but with his arms crossed. His face broke into a smile when he saw Sungjong, though. "Careful," Woohyun warned, "He's not in a great mood today."

Sungjong could imagine. Just being in the same vicinity again had the hairs on Sungjong's arm standing up; there was no way Myungsoo didn't know he was here. Sungjong dropped off a can of coke he'd brought at Woohyun's desk and went on back to the garage.

The first thing Sungjong saw when he walked in was Myungsoo's back to him; big shoulders still as he stood in front of the car's open hood. His grey wife beater was stained with sweat and Sungjong felt restlessness from him that didn't fit with how still he stood. Slowly Myungsoo turned to face him, but Sungjong looked away.

"Shirt off," he demanded quietly, setting his bag down and shrugging off his own light jacket. Without a word, Myungsoo complied; stripping his shirt off for Sungjong and Sungjong could feel Myungsoo's eyes on him the entire time. Maybe he was waiting for Sungjong to talk about the night before, but Sungjong really didn't know what to say. "Is this enough?" Sungjong asked. What he meant was 'are you comfortable with this?' because he was sure there wasn't enough skin to sate them like they needed after their separation. It would do.

Myungsoo didn't take his eyes off Sungjong when he walked forward and kneeled. His finger's quickly untied Sungjong's shoes and lifted his feet up, one at a time, to gently slip them out before he reached up to Sungjong's pants.

It wasn't like they hadn't done this plenty of times. It wasn't shame; Sungjong was pretty sure Myungsoo had seen him in his underwear more than Sungjong himself had by now, but he suddenly felt vulnerable.

Myungsoo opened the car door for them and pulled Sungjong into his lap, nuzzling the soft spot under Sungjong’s ear.

"We don't have to talk about it." Sungjong said. "We just need to keep doing what we've been doing."

Myungsoo's hands tightened at his waist but he nodded "We have type II don't we." Sungjong put his head down against Myungsoo's shoulder, shutting his eyes tightly and hoping Myungsoo wouldn't react badly, but Myungsoo just one hand down Sungjong's back until it rested against the base of his spine. "Let's make that doctor appointment." is what Myungsoo answered softly. Sungjong just nodded, because already he was feeling the comfort of being with Myungsoo sink into his bones and drag him to sleep. He hadn’t even realized how tired he’d been.

They found out that the only doctor familiar with Lund's had an office too far away for them to make the trip to in a day. They needed Sunggyu's car to go, which was fun for Sungjong to try to explain to his suspicious cousin. Really, though, As much as Sungjong loved being with Myungsoo, he wasn't looking forward to being away from everything he knew and being able to trick himself into thinking he could put space between them by just going home. 

They didn't talk about that night-- they were so good at that, not talking about things. Myungsoo was his usual sweet, handsy self, bring them back to normal, but Sungjong made himself take a step back. He was a big boy and he could get over himself.

"What's this?" Sungjong asked as he pushed through their bags. Myungsoo was driving, which Sungjong had never actually seen him do for as much as he worked on cars. It was funny, actually, the way Myungsoo bit at his lips and tapped his fingers on the wheel as he drove. He let Sungjong control the radio and smiled, even when Sungjong could tell he didn't care about the songs that played. 

"Hmm?" Myungsoo glanced over at Sungjong, who held up two pairs of swim trunks. "Oh, we'll pass the beach on the way, so I thought we might as well go while we can."

If Sungjong were just a little less bitter he would have asked which god made his perfect man and then set that perfect man right out of his reach. Myungsoo was right, they did hit a beach just an hour from the doctor's practice, but it was late, so they got a motel room. Sungjong blushed in the passenger’s seat as they parked there, but Myungsoo laughed. "I'll get us a room."

As much as Sungjong had been dreading the long trip to Myungsoo's worst nightmare, he was excited. He felt like he knew he shouldn't-- like he had Myungsoo all to himself out here in the country and at the empty beach at night, with them laughing and tossing sand and Myungsoo afraid to go too far in the dark water.

Sungjong tried not to think about anything bad, instead, and just enjoyed it.

"Kim Myungsoo you are a baby! How can you go to the beach and not swim?"

"It's dark! And scary!" Myungsoo crossed his arms and kicked sand at the waves that whooshed towards them.

"But I'll be right there!"

"Sungjong I can't see what's in the water-- there are things in there, Sungjong. Jellyfish! And crabs and sharp rocks."

"Wow, you're right. That's terrifying." Sungjong patted his shoulder sympathetically before grabbing both of his hands and yanking him into the water. Myungsoo might have had more muscle on him, but Sungjong was determined enough and eventually they were both waist deep in water.

"Yah!" Myungsoo yelled, splashing at Sungjong. There was not a single person who could blame Sungjong for wanting to see Myungsoo wet, though, so he didn't care. He laughed and ducked out of the way when Myungsoo came at him again. It didn't take long for Myungsoo to relax in the water. 

Luckily no one was there, because Sungjong was pretty sure they were the worst kind of beach visitors, screaming and yelling and exactly what would have annoyed Sungjong if it were anyone else. Eventually, though, Myungsoo caught Sungjong and swept him up like a bride. He walked towards the shore until Sungjong didn't touch the water and all Sungjong could do was hold on, even though he knew Myungsoo wouldn't let him fall. Myungsoo's breath was warm on his wet cheek and tickled his ear when he said, "We're gonna play a game where I get to ask you five questions."

"Why?"

"Shh! My question, not yours. This is my game."

"Okay." Sungjong held up his hands in surrender. He was used to being so close to Myungsoo, but he wasn't used to being completely at his mercy like this. 

He felt silly for being nervous when Myungsoo asked, "What color am I thinking of?"

Sungjong flicked Myungsoo's cheek, "stupid." He muttered, and was immediately dipped headfirst into the water.

"Wrong."" Myungsoo said happily, "Guess again. And no reading my mind."

Sungjong coughed a little water up "Ha! I wish I could read your mind. You do give away a lot, but I can't guess what's on your mind unless you let me in." Sungjong felt Myungsoo's arms bend in threat of another dunk so he called out quickly "Orange?" Myungsoo dunked him again.

"Green!" He laughed, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation. He didn’t get dunked. Myungsoo was smiling at him with the dimples that peaked out when he really meant it. 

"What's Woohyun's dog's name?"

Sungjong groaned. He'd never called that little rat by its name. Sungjong may have loved all animals, but Woohyun's dog was no animal-- it was a mean, old, peeing monster, and everyone knew it. Woohyun himself said they were all just waiting for the dog to go, since it had belonged to his grandmother. Sungjong knew he was secretly fond of it though. He knew Woohyun had named it as a child, but he always just called it "little rat" and since then everyone else had picked it up. "That's unfair." He complained.

"It's unfair to the dog when you call it names." Myungsoo sniffed delicately, like he didn’t grimace when it hobbled into the room either.

"But I can't remember!" Myungsoo dunked him quickly. "Okay! Wait, wait-- Booger?" Sungjong grasped blindly at stupid dog names only Woohyun would give, Myungsoo just snorted and dunked him again. "Auhg!" Sungjong groaned when he could breathe again.

"Nope." Myungsoo said happily, and dunked him. "You lose a point."

"When did we get points?" Sungjong gripped Myungsoo's shoulder and wiped at his face, trying to feel whether or not Myungsoo was tired of holding him, but the only thing he felt from his mate was contentment and he tried not to smile too widely.

"We've always had them, because I make the rules, that's why." Myungsoo stuck his tongue out quickly. Sungjong didn't like to admit it, but he liked having this colorful, silly Myungsoo to himself. "Next question, where to the salt and pepper go?"

Sungjong flicked Myungsoo's cheek again, unamused, but Myungsoo cocked an eyebrow; he was never going to let this go. Sungjong was sure they'd be old men arguing about salt and pepper and how they can't be divorced. "They go where ever I damn want them to go." He deserved a dunk that time. He let himself giggled when he came back up though, at the betrayed look on Myungsoo's face. "Alright, they always go together, are you happy? No divorcing the salt and pepper. Next question."

Myungsoo nodded, but didn't ask anything for a moment. Sungjong had to look up before Myungsoo leaned in just slightly, until his nose brushed Sungjong's temple, and asked "Are you happy?"

Sungjong wasn't exactly sure what he meant, because now? Of course he was happy. Myungsoo didn't elaborate though, and Sungjong didn't actually need him to. There was no use in denying it; Sungjong looked straight ahead instead of at Myungsoo when he answered softy, "Yes."

Myungsoo didn't say anything, he nodded. When Sungjong finally looked back at him he opened his mouth, "is this me feeling like this? Or..." He didn't finish and he didn’t have too. Sungjong realized quickly that he hadn't kept as good of a handle on his emotions that he had been. He'd felt free and comfortable and all at the risk of making Myungsoo uncomfortable. Myungsoo wasn't used to getting this from him since he kept such and good handle on it.

"I'm sorry." Sungjong said when he though he had it all sealed up tight again, but Myungsoo didn't move for a moment and he didn’t stop looking at Sungjong. It was all Sungjong could do not to shy away from the look.

Finally Myungsoo let him down gently, "You win." He smiled lightly.

"I win what?" Asked Sungjong.

"Anything you want." Myungsoo told him seriously. "You don't have to use it now." His hands came out to gently push wet hair off of Sungjong's forehead. "Let's go back to the motel. When we get that doctor thing over with we can come back to the beach. During the day!" He smiled so widely that Sungjong had to smile with him, and Sungjong thought that might have been Myungsoo's goal.

Myungsoo smelled like himself after he showered; Sungjong made sure to bring his shampoo because he didn’t want Myungsoo to smell foreign and like bad motel shampoo. He curled up tightly behind Sungjong, one arm under Sungjong's head and the other crossed over Sungjong's chest. Sometimes Sungjong thought about how he would have felt smothered with anyone else, but this felt necessary. How could he feel like Myungsoo's skin had belonged to him his entire life and still remember each point of contact so vividly it ran through his head before he slept every night-- the places Myungsoo's hands had gripped his thigh and his back, Myungsoo's chest swelling against his back with every breath, and the way his nose has grazed the side of Sungjong's face when he spoke. He fell asleep thinking about that and imagining them both as the salt and pepper shaker that should never be separated.

Oh my god I'm sorry this took so long. I didn't get my sleep schedule right-- no progress there. I've just had time for school, sleep and food it seems like. A fic here and there. ;__; sad days. Also idk about you guys, but the salt and pepper argument is one that I have with my grandmother a lot. She gets really mad when I separate the salt and pepper.