Archive of Our Own

Sunggyu closes his eyes. He lets his body drown into the music, forgetting everything else. Everything but him, of course. He's always there, at the edge of his mind. He could never forget him, even if he wanted to.

He presses his body against others, even though there's only one that he wants. And finally, one of them—a tall, non-distinctive man, Sunggyu hasn't even looked at him properly—approaches him.

"You free?" he whispers, so close that Sunggyu can feel his breath on his skin.

Sunggyu immediately turns around. And looks at him. Woohyun is looking back, as always, and their eyes meet for a moment.

Just one sign. That's all Sunggyu needs—a sign that Woohyun has caved in, that he will give him what he wants, and he will push this guy away, will make his way through the crowd to—

But Woohyun is already turning away, face expressionless. As if none of this concerned him. As if he didn't even care. Sunggyu feels hurt and anger surge up inside him, making his stomach twist and his body shake.

He turns back towards the man.

"Yeah, I'm free."

The first time Sunggyu met Sungmi, he thought she was a boy. A small, scrawny boy, nowhere near his type (and probably way too young for him, Sunggyu thought). But that didn't stop him from walking up to her and striking up a conversation, shamelessly hitting on her—well, him, at the time—because it was cute, the way his eyes crinkled up and his shoulders bobbed up and down as he laughed, the puppyish half-grin and deep but somewhat youthful voice–

Sunggyu was just about to ask him his number, when Dongwoo finally came back from the toilet.

He looked at the both of them, surprised. "Hyung—you know Sungmi?"

Sungmi?

Sunggyu stared at the cute boy. "You're a girl?"

Sungmi was pouting. "Dongwoo hyung, I told you stop calling me that! My name's Junseo now."

Dongwoo laughed. "I'll call you anything you want dear, but you need to make up your mind. Wasn't it Siwoo last week?"

Sunggyu was still staring at the boy—well, girl—incredulous. He'd really thought… Oh, bummer. He should have known really, all those lesbians these days going around looking like cute boys and confusing poor gay men like him.

Because Sunggyu was as gay as they come. He didn't do girls, period.

It was too bad, really. He could have sworn there was something about this boy—girl, he corrected himself again—something he hadn't felt in some time.

The first time he sees Woohyun, he thinks he's the most handsome man he's ever laid eyes on. Too handsome for him, too. Sunggyu has gotten over that phase back in high school when he thought he was the best thing ever and everyone was going to fall for him at the snap of his fingers. So he just looks at Woohyun, thinks "Damn, I'd tap that," and then goes back to staring at his drink, 'cause it's never going to happen, anyway.

Incredibly, it's Woohyun who approaches him. "What is a handsome guy like you doing all alone?" he asks, grinning seductively, and Sunggyu stares.

"… What?" Is all he manages in the end, because one, this guys is cheesy as fuck, and two–he, handsome? Really?

Surprisingly, Woohyun's confident grin falters at his words. "Uh, I.. I said—"

"I know what you said. I meant what as in, what the fuck?"

"Well, why? You… You are alone, and you're handsome—"

"I am handsome? Have you looked in the mirror recently?"

Woohyun smiles, looking slightly surprised, which is ridiculous really, because a guy like him is probably told he's hot everyday, or something. "You… You think I'm handsome?"

And OK, this guy needs a pair of glasses. Badly.

Sunggyu didn't need women in his life. Or at least, that's what he told himself. He had his mum, his two elder sisters, and that was more than enough for him. "Chauvinist idiot," Sungjong had called him when he'd expressed his view on the matter, which infuriated Sunggyu because Sungjong was younger than him and he should respect him, and also, he didn't think he was being sexist at all. He was just honest. He wasn't interested in sleeping with women, and he was more than happy with being friends with guys like him. What would he need women for?

(Not that Sungjong would understand that, he who almost only had female friends and was almost a girl hims—and well that usually got him a surprisingly painful kick from Sungjong, so he had had to stop saying it.)

But once Sungmi came into his life, she stayed. He had been right in thinking that there was something different about her, because with her, it wasn't like with all of his other friends. It was deeper, more intimate, somehow. Sunggyu found himself doing things like buying food for Sungmi just to see the cute (puppyish, he thought) smile on her face when she saw it, the way she went "Thank you, hyung!" and hugged the shit out of him, although she was so small it didn't hurt at all. He listened to Sungmi, let her cry on his shoulder, and even confessed a few things himself. Sungmi always listened well, expression serious and hand squeezing Sunggyu's reassuringly when he was talking about something painful. He didn't even mind when Sungmi clung to him, hugging him or sitting on his lap–he, who hated physical contact unless it was sex. Maybe because she's a girl, he thought.

He found himself babying her, even though she was only two years younger than him, really—maybe because she looked so much younger, so small. Sunggyu always teased her about it. "How can you be so tiny? Are you even real?" he said as he held something too high for her to take, she still jumping as high as she could, trying to grab it–like a puppy. Or he would hold her hand against his, comparing the size. "You're so small," he'd say, and she'd get all angry. "I'm not small! It's hyung's hand that's too big!"

Sunggyu laughed. "Big? My hands are actually kind of small for a man you know. They used to make fun of me when I was younger—they said I have a girl's hands."

Sungmi suddenly looked murderous. "Who said that? I like hyung's hands."

"Well, thank you."

"They… they're nicest hands I've ever seen—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. My tiny one."

He was hit by a shower of small fists.

But Sungmi's size wasn't unusual. There were lots of girls like her out there—girls. That was the problem. It's because Sunggyu kept thinking of her as a boy that her size seemed so strange.

He couldn't help it. She'd called him hyung from the start, and it had never even occurred to him to correct her. It felt right, maybe because he was used to being surrounded by men, or because she looked like a boy herself. Short hair, loose, sporty clothes that covered as much of her body as possible, a deep voice. To him, everything about Sungmi screamed "boy". Which is why he had struggled so much to accept the fact that he'd been wrong the first time he'd seen her. She was a girl. Girl, not boy.

He still had to remind himself, sometimes.

He wondered if all lesbians were like that–he had never been close to any before–only to find out that apparently, Sungmi wasn't a lesbian.

"I don't like girls, hyung," she told him, a blank expression on her face, when he asked her.

Sunggyu raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh, so I see you haven't come out of the closet yet?"

"What closet? I'm just not into girls—"

But if she didn't like women, then why did she dress like that?

"I like it," she said. "It's comfortable for me."

"Well, it might be comfortable, but no straight man is going to look at you if wear those kinds of clothes. Straights, they like—"

"Sungyeol dresses like a girl and and he has lots of girlfriends, though."

"Sungyeol?" Sunggyu had never liked the guy—perhaps because he was still holding a grudge from that time he had asked Sungyeol if he wanted to fuck, back when he was still normal and didn't go around wearing dresses and long wigs, and Sungyeol had simply laughed in his face. And it was infuriating, how he went around dressed like a man one day and a woman the next (and managing to look gorgeous in both, much to Sunggyu's chagrin). He needed to choose, Sunggyu thought—you can't just be both—although what Sungmi had said was true: Sungyeol was insanely popular with girls, straights and gays and bisexuals, those strange creatures, all ready to give an arm or a leg to sleep with Sungyeol. It made Sunggyu dislike him even more. "Is that who you want to be like? Lee Sungyeol?"

Sungmi shrugged. "I'm not interested in straight men anyway."

"Well—what kind of men are you interested in, then?"

"Men who like other men. Like hyung."

Oh, that. She seemed to have this delusion that she was a boy or something. Sunggyu laughed at it, thinking it was just a kid's game, but a part of him couldn't help thinking back to how he had thought Sungmi was a boy the first time he had seen her, how he still struggled to think of her as anything else.

But no. That had been his mistake. Sungmi was a girl, and that was it. It's not like there was room for doubt when it came to things like that, Sunggyu thought. Boys are boys and girls are girls, it's that easy.

With Woohyun, everything moves a lot faster than any relationship he's ever had before, but it's slower, too, somehow. He kisses Woohyun and asks him to go out with him three days after they met—days in which he could hardly think about anything else—and two weeks later, he already feels engaged, like he's found the one. There's no room for anyone else. But with Woohyun, he also does things he has never done before. They go on dates, actual dates with the mere object of enjoying their time together, no sex or one-night stands on the horizon. Woohyun cooks for him, and Sunggyu does, too—days spent laughing at each other's failed attempts and cleaning up the mess they made in the kitchen, giggling and kissing and kicking each other. They don't have sex–not because Sunggyu doesn't want Woohyun, of course he does–but they lie together on the bed for hours on end, talking and cuddling or just staying there, in silence, looking at each other from time to time and smiling.

Sunggyu can't believe it. After so much time, he's finally found him.

One day, Sungmi started leafing through a gay magazine he'd left on his bed. Sunggyu was nervous at first—what would a girl do with a something like that… ?—but he got increasingly amused as he saw the way she looked at it seriously, as if she were studying it.

"So this is the kind of guy that hyung likes?" she asked. "Sort of … muscly? Ripped?"

Sunggyu shrugged. "Well, yeah. Straight men like boobs, we like muscles."

Sungmi started looking at her own body with a critical eye—her arms, her legs. "I don't have any muscles," she muttered when Sunggyu asked her what was going on.

"Of course you don't," Sunggyu told her. "You're a girl."

Her expression darkened.

"I guess I can never be like the men in those magazines, uh?" she said another time as she and Sunggyu were lying on his bed side by side, talking about everything and nothing.

Of course not, you're a g—but Sunggyu stopped himself before the words could leave his mouth. He remembered Sungmi's face when he had said those same words, before. He was just going to make her upset, or sulk.

"Why would you want to be like that?" he said instead. "You're cute enough as you are."

Sungmi rolled on her side to look at him. "You–you think I'm cute?"

"Yeah, of course." Who wouldn't? Sungmi was the definition of cute—a cute, tiny puppy.

As if on cue, Sungmi rolled on her back again, giggling cutely. "If hyung thinks I'm cute, then I'm happy~"

"So what about you?" he asked her later. "What's your type?"

"My type… ?" She stared at ceiling, serious, but then smiled dreamily, holding her cheeks in her hands (and she really had to stop being this damn cute, Sunggyu thought). "I want a guy who's like a gentleman… or a prince—"

Sunggyu snorted. "Then you're going to have a hard time finding any one, trust me. Gay men, straight men—we're all wolves."

"That's not true! I know for sure–"

"Oh, really. Give me a name. Someone we both know who's not like that. And no, Dongwoo doesn't count—"

She was suddenly quiet. "Well… "

"You can't think of anyone, right?"

"I… Hyung is kind if like that, I think… "

"Hyung? You mean me?"

She nodded.

Sunggyu was doubled up with laughter, rolling around on the bed as he hollowed.

"What's so funny?" Sungmi asked him, pouting.

"You," he said in between snorts of laughter. "I, a gentleman? A prince? Really?"

"Hyung… Hyung always takes good care of me—"

"That's because you're a girl. I have to take care of you."

" … You're lucky Sungjong is not here, hyung. He would have ripped you apart for that—twice."

"Yeah well, Sungjong needs to get off his high horse. Why does he even care so much, is he a girl or something?"

"So men can't be feminists?"

"Of course not. Why would they even want to be?"

"But… as long as they're supportive—"

"Oh no, don't tell me we have another feminist right here."

"I thought you said men can't be feminists, hyung?"

"This again? For god's sake, you're not—oh, whatever."

He never won these discussions, anyway.

One day, he and Woohyun are holding hands again, Sunggyu rubbing Woohyun's between his because he was whining (cutely) that he was cold, when the words slip past his lips, almost on an impulse.

"They're so small."

Woohyun looks at him. "What?"

"Your hands." Sunggyu raises one up, as if to demonstrate. "They're really small—"

He can feel Woohyun stiffen. Shit, he said something wrong again. He's not good with words, always saying hurtful things even though he doesn't mean it, he's just joking, but Woohyun is so sensitive—

"Sorry," he mumbles, later, when Woohyun has thrust his hands deep in his pockets, almost as if to hide them, even though Sunggyu is still walking right next to him and they could, should still be holding hands. "I… I didn't mean it in a bad way—"

Woohyun blinks at him. "Uh? What are you talking about?"

"Your hands? When I said they're small, I—"

"Oh." Woohyun looks surprised, as if he had forgotten about it already. "I know, hyung, I-I wasn't offended, or anything. I mean, they are small, after all—"

"They're perfect," Sunggyu says, and he means it. "They are just the perfect size to fit inside my hands."

Woohyun snorts, but he's smiling. "Since when did you become so cheesy?"

"Since I met you, grease ball."

And then they're kissing, and everything is forgotten, for real this time.

Sungmi was usually the one to lean on him, since she was so tiny—but one day they were watching a movie and Sunggyu nodded off, head falling on Sungmi's shoulder. He woke up, later, to the feeling of her hand stroking his hair, small fingers threading through it, soothingly.

He pretended to be asleep.

"I've met someone."

They are having dinner at Dongwoo's place. They still meet from time to time, although it isn't as it used to be. Dongwoo has never forgiven him for Sungmi. Outwardly, he's still as nice and friendly as always, but Sunggyu knows—Dongwoo used to be his best friend for a long time, after all. He can see the coldness in Dongwoo's eyes when he looks at him. I'm disappointed, was all he had told Sunggyu after he heard. They have never brought the topic, or her, up again, but Sunggyu has no doubt about how Dongwoo feels.

He doesn't blame him.

"Oh, have you." Dongwoo smiles at him, but Sunggyu knows what he's thinking. "Who is it this time?"

"It's not like that," Sunggyu says quickly. "I—this time, it's for real. He's the one."

Sunggyu starts telling him about Woohyun—and finds that he can't stop. There's just so much to tell, so much that Woohyun has brought into his life. Dongwoo listens patiently, nodding and smiling. "That's great. I'm happy for you, Sunggyu."

"What did you say his name was?" he asks at one point.

"Oh." Sunggyu realises he never mentioned Woohyun's name until now. Weird. "It's Woohyun—"

Dongwoo drops his fork.

"Are you OK?" Sunggyu asks him, startled.

"Yeah, I… " Dongwoo picks up the fork again and tries to smile, but he looks flustered. "What did you say? I don't think I heard you well—"

"I said, his name is Woohyun—"

Dongwoo stares at him.

"Dongwoo… Is there something wrong?"

" … No, it's nothing. Please go on."

Sunggyu walked into the room expecting a puppy running at him at full speed. He was disappointed when all he found was Dongwoo.

"Where's the tiny one?" he asked before Dongwoo even had time to say hi.

"You mean Sungmi? She—"

Sunggyu felt his stomach twist. "She didn't come?"

"Hyung! I'm here!"

And there it came, the small creature that was more puppy than human, running towards Sunggyu and throwing herself at him.

Sunggyu caught her in his arms. "What are you doing, playing hide and seek? You should come as soon as I call you, got it?"

"Hyung is too impatient," she mumbled into his chest. "I was just in the other room. I came as soon as I heard you—"

"Not soon enough. I really should buy you a collar and a leash, so that I could keep you with me at all times."

Sungmi giggled.

Sunggyu caught Dongwoo's eye. There was something strange in his gaze, and he immediately let go of Sungmi. But Dongwoo kept looking at him.

"Don't you think you're spoiling her too much?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sunggyu, she very obviously has a crush on you—"

"She doesn't. She knows I'm into guys. She's not stupid."

"So you see Sungmi as a girl?"

"Well that's what she is, isn't it? Or did she grow a dick while I wasn't looking?"

"… You think that's all there is to it?"

Sunggyu looked at Dongwoo. "What are we talking about here, exactly?"

Dongwoo just looked at him with that strangely upsetting gaze of his. In the end, he sighed.

"Just… Don't raise her hopes for something you can't give her."

Sunggyu tells Woohyun everything.

Even about her.

"There was someone," he says. Woohyun has asked him many times before—not in a morbid way, he knows, but curiously, to know more about him. Sunggyu has always been evasive, talking about easy relationships and one-night stands. But now, he wants to be honest. "Before you."

Woohyun hums. He is such a good listener, and Sunggyu is grateful. "Do you want to tell me about him?"

Sunggyu does.

One day, she rushed into Sunggyu's room.

"Hyung!"

Sunggyu looked up from his book to see an excited Sungmi, smiling and bright like he hadn't seen her in a while. He felt himself smile back automatically, closing the book with one hand. "What is it, tiny?"

She just grinned. "Give me your hand."

Sunggyu did, but he froze when she pressed it against her chest.

"Can you feel it?"

"W-what are you doing?" he blurted out, so shocked he couldn't even move his hand away.

"It's OK, hyung. Just–just feel it." She took Sunggyu's hand and moved it all over her chest, slowly, so that he could feel it. And he did, indeed. Her chest was completely flat, only a slight, smooth mound where the breasts should have been, just like…

Just like a boy's.

Sunggyu couldn't help it. He kept feeling it, stroking her chest softly, as if to make sure it was real. That it wasn't just a dream. That Sungmi was—she—

He looked at her. "What… ?"

"It's a binder, hyung."

"A what?"

Later, Sunggyu was furious. He had gotten Sungmi to lift her shirt, and seen a tight vest wrapped around her chest, pressing it down so tightly that under a shirt, it looked flat.

"Are you out of your mind? That thing looks like a torture instrument! How can you even breathe?"

"It's fine, hyung," Sungmi said quietly. "It's something that a lot of people wear. Sungyeol—"

"Oh, he's behind all this, isn't he? That bastard! I'm going to kill him!"

"No, hyung—he… he's helping me—"

But how could this be considered help? Sunggyu didn't get it. If she kept wearing that thing, her breasts would be ruined.

"It's OK," Sungmi said. "I don't want them, anyway."

"Do you realise how little sense that makes? It's like saying you don't want your legs or your arms, they—they are part of your body. How can you not want them?"

But Sungmi didn't seem to understand him, either. She seemed to have thought Sunggyu would be happy for her or something, and now she was sulking. She refused to take the binder off as Sunggyu had ordered her—the first time she had willfully said no to him—and quickly went away, her face a mask.

That's where things started going wrong, really.

"Hyung," Woohyun interrupts him at one point, "there's something I want to ask you."

That's also when the dreams started. In them, Sungmi was a boy–not that she was any different than usual, but Sunggyu just knew, that she was one. She was standing in front of him, holding his hand and pressing it to her chest like she had done that time. "Just feel it," she said, smiling. "Can you feel it, hyung?"

He did. It was flat, smooth. And when he lifted her shirt, there was no damn binder squeezing her flesh, but smooth amber skin, beautiful, a lovely flat chest, small pink nipples—

When Sunggyu woke up, he was hard. Always.

He found it hard to be around Sungmi now. And it got increasingly difficult to think of her as a girl. He kept noticing things he never had before—how full, plump her lips were (how would they taste?), her collarbones, her thighs which were very nice, and her—

No. He wasn't going to go there.

He kept looking at her when they were together. He looked at her chest, trying to see through her shirt. Would there be the shadow of a pair of breasts? Or nothing at all? A flat expanse, all smooth and nice—

No, no, no.

He tried to tell himself he was just worried—that he was just trying to tell whether she was wearing that stupid binder thing—but he knew what the truth was. There was no lying to his body, not when it reacted in certain unmistakable ways.

One day Sungmi sat on his lap, which was nothing much, she had done it a thousand of times before, but his body—he felt the desire surge through him, so strong he could hardly breath, and between his legs, he—

He pushed her off him. It was too strong, and she almost fell to the floor. He kept forgetting that she was tiny, that she was a girl.

"Hyung… ?"

Those eyes—they could be so small, disappearing completely when she laughed, but also huge when she looked at him, like right now—

"Maybe you should stop clinging to me all the time, you know. It's stifling."

"You keep saying 'they' and 'them'. I was just wondering… was it a girl?"

It was almost too easy, really.

He didn't outright reject her. But he started acting cold, distant. Mean, even, when it came to it. He let her in his room, but didn't talk to her, hardly looked at her. He met her attempts at conversation with non-committal sounds, grunts, or silence. Eventually, she seemed to get the gist, because she started showing up less and less.

One time, when she had come and he had let her in and gone back to doing what he was doing before as if she weren't even there, she simply sat on the floor and waited. She didn't pretend to check her phone, read, or do something to cover up the awkwardness. She just sat there, looking at him with those eyes.

When minutes passed and Sunggyu still didn't say anything, she got up.

"I get it. I'm leaving now."

"I didn't say you had to."

"You might just as well have," she said, and then she was gone.

The next time—the last time—Sunggyu was sitting in the cafeteria, minding his own business, when she suddenly appeared. She sat down at his boot, across from him.

"Hyung."

He didn't even look at her. "I told you already. It's oppa for you."

" … If I call you oppa, will you talk to me?"

"I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?"

Silence.

"Hyung… "

He didn't answer.

"I'm here, you know."

"Yeah, I can hear you alright."

A sigh.

"Hyung… Did I… did I do something wrong?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I just… I don't understand—"

"Hyung!"

Hoya. Thank God.

"Hey." Sunggyu got up—and pulled Hoya in for a brief kiss.

Hoya looked at him, surprised. Understandable, Sunggyu thought. They'd never been anything but casual. "Uh.. I'm fine, thank you. You?"

"I'm great. Now."

Hoya's gaze moved to Sungmi. "And you are… ?"

Sunggyu took a deep breath.

"She's my little sister," he said. "Well, not by blood obviously, but. Same thing."

"Oh." Hoya looked at Sungmi, smiled. "Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Hoya—"

But she was already gone. Sunggyu wasn't looking at her, but he could still see her from the corner of his eyes, getting up and walking away, almost running. He didn't look after her. But Hoya was.

"Shouldn't you go after her? I think she was crying… "

"No. It's fine."

It's better this way.

"No. No, it wasn't a girl. It was a boy."

"Hyung… Are you crying?"

He wonders, sometimes. Where is she now? Is she doing well? He knew he had no right to think about it—about her—but he couldn't help it. A small part of him always feared that she might just not be at all—that she had put all those weird, morbid thoughts into practice—but mostly, he doesn't think so. No—he would know, if she wasn't there anymore.

She is still out there, somewhere.

It's not like the memories disappear with Woohyun. No, if anything, they get more intense, so that sometimes they feel almost real—he looks at Woohyun and thinks he is looking at Sungmi, and he has to blink and convince himself he isn't. Yet at the same time, he feels more at peace—for the first time. He feels like he is achieving some kind of closure, like Woohyun is helping him deal with all the memories.

Maybe because he's never really opened his heart to someone again after her. Woohyun is the first one. He's been so worried, that he would always be fixated on her, unable to truly fall in love with someone else. Woohyun has proved him wrong.

But then time passes, and they still haven't had sex.

Sunggyu didn't even think about it at first—which was weird in itself, because sex is usually the main thing, if not the only thing he's interested in in a relationship. But with Woohyun it's different (of course it is) and so he really didn't mind, spending hours cuddling and kissing and doing nothing more, holding hands as if they were high school sweethearts. In a way, it was more exciting that sex. It made his heart flutter.

But he has his needs, too. And when Woohyun never initiates anything, never even brings up the topic, like it wasn't an issue at all, Sunggyu starts to wonder.

Maybe… maybe Woohyun isn't attracted to him? Or he doesn't like sex at all?

But when he finally brings it up, awkward and flustered, Woohyun simply smirks. "You should have just told me, you know. There's something I'm quite good at, if I can say so myself." And he proceeds to drop to his knees and give Sunggyu the best blowjob of his life—which is saying something, he's had his fair share before, but this—

This is heaven.

He knew Woohyun couldn't have such pretty, plump lips for nothing.

"So… how was it?" Woohyun asks him as he gets back to his feet later, and he looks smug but there's something in his eyes that tells Sunggyu it's a genuine question, that he's not sure he did well.

Which is ridiculous, really. Sunggyu's expression speaks volumes itself, his eyes probably heart-shaped and sparkling as he gazes at Woohyun. "Are you even real?" he mutters, and Woohyun laughs. Sunggyu brings him in for a kiss—again, strange, because Woohyun probably still tastes like him, and Sunggyu normally hates that, finds it gross, but now he doesn't mind. He just wants Woohyun.

"Now get on the bed and spread your legs for me, love," Sunggyu whispers hotly in his ear after they've pulled apart, "So I can return the favour."

Woohyun blushes, and shivers, and Sunggyu is sure that he's going to do just as he said, but then "No—no, that's OK. You don't have to. I… I just want to cuddle, really."

And Sunggyu lets him, because Woohyun already did something for him and he loves cuddling with him anyway, and if this is what Woohyun wants… But even as he keeps the younger close, stroking his head and leaning in to kiss him from time to time, he wonders. Did Woohyun really just want to cuddle after sucking Sunggyu off like that? Wouldn't that turn him on, too? Sunggyu knows for sure that he would be turned on—that he wouldn't be able to hold Woohyun like this after having had him in his mouth, and not be sexually frustrated. Maybe Woohyun is different, he thinks.

(He still tries to steal a glance, a feel at Woohyun's crotch. But Woohyun always angles his body in a way that Sunggyu can't touch him down there, can't even look at him, even though they are pressed together as close they could ever be.)

He feels a sense of déjà-vu. When has this happened before… ?

Maybe Woohyun just needs time, Sunggyu thinks. But time goes by, and all they ever do is have Woohyun suck him off, or stroke him until he comes.

Woohyun, never him.

When Woohyun tries to get to his knees for the hundredth time, Sunggyu drags him to his feet. "I'm sick and tired of this. Why won't you let me touch you?"

Woohyun's face falls, and Sunggyu feels immediately guilty. "You.. you don't like it?"

"Babe–you know I love it. Your mouth is the best thing that has ever been near my cock. But… I don't like it like this. I want to touch you, too."

Woohyun looks at the ground. And that's that. No explanations, no words at all–just a frown, and silence.

So Sunggyu tries a different approach. When they are cuddling and Woohyun is at his most relaxed, he lets his hands wander over Woohyun's body, his chest, his stomach, and then lower. They are just caresses, they don't necessarily have to lead to anything, but Woohyun always stops him, his small hand grabbing Sunggyu's and bringing it up again.

"I'm sorry, hyung… I can't."

"Is it penetration?" Sunggyu asks him, frantic, desperate for answers. "Are you scared of that? We don't have to do it, love. There's so many things we can do–" although he thinks Woohyun would look lovely all spread out open under him, whimpering and moaning as Sunggyu makes him his, like the puppy he is. "Or do you want to top? You know I've never bottomed before, but–if that's what you want–"

But Woohyun just shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, hyung—I really am, but… I can't. I can't do it. I'm sorry–"

Sunggyu feels like he's going crazy. Like he never gets what he wants, and history is repeating itself, and—

No, not again. It can't be happening. Not now, not with Woohyun.

And then Woohyun says it.

"You can sleep with other men, you know."

His voice is small, but Sunggyu hears it. He stiffens, turns around to stare at him.

"What?"

Woohyun is looking down at his hands. "I mean… I know you have your needs, and–since I can't give you what you want—"

"It's not like you can't, you know," Sunggyu says, his voice so cold he already knows he will regret it, later. "It's just that you don't want to."

Oh no. He's turning mean again, just like that time—desire turning him into a monster, making him push Woohyun away, say cruel things he doesn't mean, just so that he can see the hurt in Woohyun's eyes.

Woohyun tries to go up to him afterwards, to make up (as if he were the one who has to apologise) but Sunggyu doesn't let him. "I don't want to see your face right now," he says, shrugging Woohyun's body off him. He knows that Woohyun cries because of him, sees the circles under his eyes, the dull light inside them. But he still doesn't stop. He can't stop.

And sometimes they really do make up—Woohyun's grip around his waist so tight that Sunggyu can't shake him off, can only turn around and hug him back, pressing his body tight against his, wishing that they could melt together, somehow. He covers Woohyun's face with kisses and they spend the night in each other's arms, the sweetest torture ever because Sunggyu is so painfully hard but he can't do anything about it, can only hold Woohyun and look at his sleeping face, so peaceful when he's lying on his chest, and think about how much he wants him.

He takes him up on his offer.

When they go clubbing, he hooks up with other men. Or at least, he makes Woohyun think he does. He flirts with them, dances with them, sometimes even lets them indulge in a touch or kiss. He keeps glancing at Woohyun, watching everything despite himself (he never wants to come, but Sunggyu insists on it. He has to watch, to see what he's made him do). And then, making sure that Woohyun is still watching, he leaves with them. He always backs away at the last minute, and spends the rest of the time wandering around the dark streets of Seoul. He goes back home when he thinks enough time has passed for it to be believable, and then he crawls back to bed next to Woohyun, because despite everything, he still can't sleep well if the younger is not there. The first few times he thought Woohyun would push him away, but he just cracks his eyes open and gives him a sleepy smile. He pulls Sunggyu in, close to him.

"Hyung."

Sunggyu doesn't know if it makes it better, or worse.

"Trouble in paradise?" Dongwoo asks him one time they go out drinking together and Sunggyu keeps downing shot after shot, the desperation obvious in his eyes.

And so Sunggyu tells him.

He wasn't expecting pity, he know there's worse things in life, but he's still surprised when Dongwoo looks at him coldly, almost judging him. "I can't believe you, Sunggyu."

Sunggyu is reminded of another time—

I'm disappointed.

"All this time and you still keep making the same mistakes?"

Sunggyu gapes at him, alcohol clouding his mind but he doesn't think he would be able to understand what Dongwoo means even if he were stone sober. "What are you… ?"

But Dongwoo just sighs. Shakes his head.

"You are so smart, Sunggyu, yet sometimes, you can't see what's right in front of you."

And then one day, it happens.

He pushes Woohyun against the wall, mad with desire like so many times before. But unlike those times, Woohyun doesn't push him away now. He just smiles at him.

"It's OK, hyung. You can."

Why does he look so sad, though?

But Sunggyu isn't in the mood to think about that, or anything else, for that matter. He kisses Woohyun, hard, hands touching him everywhere. He squeezes Woohyun between his legs. He's completely soft, and Sunggyu almost cries. He must really hate this, must hate Sunggyu.

For a moment he almost gives up, but Woohyun is so beautiful in front of him and fuck. He can't. He'll try his best, to make Woohyun like it–to make him hard, all hot and bothered for him—

But then he latches his mouth on Woohyun's neck, sucking and biting, to leave no place unmarked, and Woohyun is writhing under him, making cute aroused sounds and clutching Sunggyu's shirt in pleasure. He likes it, Sunggyu thinks, relieved for a moment. But then why isn't he hard?

When he's done with his neck, he jerks Woohyun shirt down, exposing his collarbones and the beautiful amber skin of one naked shoulder. Sunggyu looks at it hungrily, and he makes to dive in and suck, when he sees it.

He stares.

Sungmi took in a sharp breath, eyes squeezed shut as Sunggyu moved the blade over her skin, clumsy. He hadn't believed his ears when she had first asked him to do it. To him, it just seemed gory. "I'm going to hurt you," he had said, horrified.

"It won't hurt that much. It's just a small sign—it will be quick, like a tattoo—"

"Why don't you get a tattoo, then? It's a lot safer. I'll come with you–I'll do it with you, if you like—"

"No, I want this. I want you to do it. It's more special this way."

Sunggyu had caved in in the end, but now he wondered whether he should have insisted, gotten Sungmi to change her mind. She looked so vulnerable in front of him like this, her body shivering and her shirt slightly open, one shoulder and a tiny bit of collarbones exposed (which was too much for Sunggyu, he kept getting distracted, looking down at her chest instead of the place he was marking, hoping to catch a glimpse, even though he knew he wasn't going to see what he wanted, even if he did. Sunggyu felt like a pig, because Sungmi had trusted him with this and here he was, ogling her, like—)

But it was too late to back down now, and so Sunggyu took a deep breath and did it quickly, the sign turning out even more clumsy that he had imagined, slightly crooked and hardly resembling an infinite sign at all. But Sungmi seemed happy about it, later—after Sunggyu had cleaned and disinfected and bandaged the wound, carefully, asking her if he had hurt her a thousand times, and after Sungmi had done the same thing to him, her small hand a lot more dexterous than his, so that it hadn't hurt at all, he almost hadn't felt it.

"I like it. It's hyung's."

He's looking at the same sign now, still as crooked and clumsy-looking but white, translucent, a scar instead of a wound. And it's on Woohyun's shoulder.

Sunggyu's legs almost give out. He feels like the same mark on his shoulder is burning in recognition.

No. It can't be.

"It's so that we can meet again in our next lives," Sungmi had explained to him afterwards, and he should have known really. This kid and her unhealthy obsession with reincarnation. "The infinite sign means that something will never end, right? it's forever. So we, too—even when we're born again and we look completely different and we don't remember each other, we'll still be able to find each other."

"You really didn't recognise me, hyung?"

Incredibly enough, Woohyun actually tries to stop him.

"Are you really leaving?" he says, strangely calm, as Sunggyu gathers his things in a haste. "After everything you said to me?"

"Oh yeah, everything I said to you," Sunggyu snorts, but there's no amusement in his voice. "Did you enjoy listening to me make a fool of myself? Talking about someone and not realising they were right in front of me?"

"Hyung–"

"You think you actually have something to say in your defense, Woohyun? Or should I say Sungmi?"

His face—or her face, he doesn't even know anymore—hardens. "Don't call me that. That's not my name anymore—"

"Oh, but that's who you are. You can change your name, you can change your body, but you will never change the fact that you're a woman. You'll never be a man, Woohyun."

But Woohyun doesn't give up. He keeps grabbing Sunggyu's arm, trying to stop him, to talk to him, and Sunggyu can't take it anymore. He snaps, pushes Woohyun away so hard he goes flying against the wall.

"Leave me the fuck alone," he hisses. "I'm not staying."

But Woohyun is already getting to his feet. And that makes Sunggyu even angrier, somehow—how persistent Woohyun is, just like—

Just like a puppy—

He grabs the first thing he can lay his hands on—a book, as it turns out—and throws it right at Woohyun. It hits him in the face, and he cradles his cheeks, head hanging low so that Sunggyu can't see his expression.

"Don't you dare try to stop me," Sunggyu says. "I never want to see your face again. You… you freak."

He gets out of the flat in a frenzy, slamming the door shut behind him and almost running to the lift. He presses all the buttons at once, but when it still doesn't arrive he can't wait anymore and just flings himself down the stairs and runs, runs, as far away from here, from—

He's run down two flights of stairs when he finally falls to the floor, on his knees.

I'm going to be sick, he thinks, and he can already feel the bile surging up from his stomach—

But then, just before he's about to throw up, he stops.

Another memory.

"Hyung?"

"What is it, tiny?"

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"… You know I'm Christian, right?"

"Oh, so—so Christians are not born again?"

He turned around to stare at her. He was doing his homework in his room while Sungmi lay on his bed, entertaining him with chatter that went in one ear and came out the other. But he still liked the comforting background sound, and so he let her stay.

"You are not seriously asking me that, are you?"

"Why not? I'm not Christian, I don't know—"

Sunggyu couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, because god, she was such a dumb puppy—but cutely dumb, so cute that he couldn't bring himself to be mad at her. "Everyone knows, you know. Except for you."

She pouted. "Well, sorry for being ignorant—"

"Nah, it's OK. Hyung will explain it to you later. Let me finish this first, mh?"

"Yes~ Thank you, hyung~"

They were silent again, Sunggyu getting immersed in his work.

"As for me," she said suddenly, almost startling Sunggyu because he had expected her to be good and quiet until he was done, like he had asked her, "As for me, I want to hurry up and be born again."

" … You do know that you have to die first in order to do that, right?"

"That's OK. As long as in my next life, I—"

Sunggyu's jaw tightened. He put down his pen. "Listen to me, kid. You have to stop with this shit."

"Hyung, it's OK. I told you, we're surely going to meet in our next life—"

"No, listen. You have to stop. I don't know if there's more lives than this one, and frankly, I don't care. Next lives, previous lives—I don't give a fuck. I'm living this life right now. And I want you to be in it. I don't want to meet you in my next life. I want to be with you now."

She didn't say anything.

"So you can't say stuff like that anymore, OK? You are not allowed to die or be born again or whatever. Just… stay here. With me."

Sunggyu sits on the floor, looking blankly ahead as the memory replays in his head.

Stay, he had told her, yet he had been the one to leave her–no, not her, him; it's always been him. An he's about to do the same thing again now. And what then? Is it going to be like it was before–before he met Woohyun, after he left Sungmi. He feels his chest tighten at the mere thought, and he can't breathe.

Even if all that reincarnation shit were true, he would still have to wait another forty, sixty years until he dies and is born again. Forty, sixty years of that no-life, of that constant emptiness in his chest.

Sunggyu chokes.

Can he really put up with it?

That's a very, very long time.

Oh, fuck it.

He gets to his feet and runs back up the stairs.

"What do you want now?"

Woohyun is glaring at him. He has been crying, his eyes still red and shiny with tears. There's a dark, swollen spot on his cheek, near the eye. Did he really do that? Sunggyu thinks, horrified.

"I… "

He looks back at Woohyun, grasping for words.

"I can't."

"What?"

"I can't do it." Sunggyu swallows. "I can't wait anymore."

Woohyun looks at him as if he were out of his mind, and maybe he is. He reaches out and pulls Woohyun to him, into his arms. It's almost too easy, because he's so small, just the right size to fit perfectly against Sunggyu, his head resting on the spot where his heart is.

Sunggyu finds himself smiling, despite everything.

"You know, there's one thing that hasn't changed about you."

"Uh… ?"

"You're still as tiny as always."

"What—"

But before Woohyun can say anything, Sunggyu tilts his head up, making him look at him. He kisses the bruise on his cheek, the traces of tears.

"My tiny one."

And then they melt together, and it's perfect, the way it should have been all along.

(when you find me again, please, please don't let go of me)