Work Text:
Sunghoon lowers the spyglass and clicks his tongue twice.
“2,076m,” he says, tilting his head to one side and wincing when the joints of his neck crack. He definitely lost track of how long he’s been stuck in his previous position. “It’s a bit too far. But if you want I can–“
“It’s fine.” Jongseong’s voice is deep and hushed despite the fact that it’s just the two of them in the deserted room. Sunghoon looks down at him with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s quite a distance, you know.”
Jongseong doesn’t respond to his remark, but his shoulders undulate in a way that tells Sunghoon to start settling himself into as much silent and motionless he’s capable of. He observes Jongseong’s fingers slide over the scope in the barest of touches. If Sunghoon wasn’t looking closely enough he could’ve missed the very slight adjustments made.
Jongseong clamps his eyes shut for one second, two seconds, before opening them again. His eyes now hold a gradation of solemnity that has Sunghoon barely holding back an awestruck gasp that could’ve gotten his head chewed off. He tilts his head fractionally in the cheek rest, takes one sharp inhale and goes still as a statue.
Sunghoon watches out for the barest shifts in Jongseong’s breathing; how it evens, lengthens, and virtually halts. It’s all so slow and controlled that if Sunghoon wasn’t looking closely enough the action would’ve been completely imperceptible to him. But the thing is, Sunghoon’s always looking. Thinking about it now, he could almost hear Jaeyun cackling and hollering taunting remarks about how gay he is at the back of his head. He blinks the distractive thoughts away almost too antagonistically, feeling the telltale signs of a blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks.
They’re on a goddamn mission for crying out loud.
This isn’t the first time Jongseong’s been the one behind the rifle, but to Sunghoon every single time feels new, like he’s relearning Park Jongseong over and over again. That, coupled with the fact that it’s his weapon currently in Jongseong’s hands. Heeseung made a joke about it once, how he’s so attached to his rifle that he might as well get married to it.
He thinks of it this way: his rifle is an extension of him, heavy and familiar in the way its weight settles in his back whenever he carries it around, the way it feels against his arms when he holds it. He’s more careful with it than with his own body, something that has been a good laugh’s source between him and Jongseong on more than a few occasions. His few friends in the mafia say it’s an obsession, and Sunghoon doesn’t really think the truth is far from that. Right now, watching Jongseong handle it with his capable hands, grasp firm and certain, it’s a lot like giving him full autonomy over a vital segment of his life. A surrender, of sorts.
Jongseong’s finger tightens against the trigger.
There’s a muffled crack that reverberates in the empty room, and the weapon jolts so hard against Jongseong’s chest that his body visibly reflects the impact. In a blink he lifts his eye from the sight, sighs and cranes his neck from side to side. He gets up and stretches his arms above his head, puffs his cheeks and twists his hips and other muscles in his body.
He looks like a cat , Sunghoon thinks, heart heavy with fondness as he watches and catalogues every curve and dip and trough rippling down Jongseong’s figure before he snaps back to attention like he’s been slapped in the arse and jams his spyglass back onto his face. None of them point out how it’s completely unnecessary, and if Sunghoon’s just looking at a crow perched atop a light post twenty yards away, its proportions ridiculous because he’s a buffoon in love and failed to differentiate the front and back of his fucking binoculars like a fucking amateur, he’s never gonna admit it till kingdom come or whatever.
He could feel Jongseong grinning behind him, and he had the very infantile urge to turn around and blame him for being so distracting.
When he does turn to look after recovering from his earlier mortification, Jongseong is already looking at him with a small smile, the kind that’s soft on the edges and reserved for Sunghoon alone. It really doesn’t fit their current situation. And Sunghoon is really in love with him.
“Hit.”