Work Text:
Dream Theater: sungjong (leader and bass), sunggyu (vocalist & pianist), hoya (guitar), sungyeol (drums)
East Rain: dongwoo (leader and drums), woohyun (vocalist & guitar), myungsoo (bass)
Sunggyu hates many things.
He hates waking up early; hates the way his mother's heels would creak whenever they touched the floor at 5 a.m in the mornings, on the way to her bedroom; hates the way his car would not start and he had to walk to college, ended up soaked in rain and late; hates the way girls would annoyingly whisper behind his back about how handsome and mysterious he is; hates Dream Theater; hates cherries and raisin cakes. The only thing that he loves, adores, lives for, is singing. Everyday after class he would go to the practice room with his band and play there for hours, just rehearsing or writing new lyrics.
It's Thursday, late in the evening, and he's lying on the floor, eyes fixed on the ceiling and hands at each side of his body. He hears Sungyeol softly hitting the drums and Hoya playing some unknown melody to his ears in the guitar. Sungjong is on view, sitting on a chair and brows knit together as he's focused on finishing his (biology?) project that needs to submit the next day.
“Guys.”
Hoya's voice is raspy and low, and Sunggyu tilts his head to look at him. His dark hair is up and his forehead looks nicer from that angle.
“The competition is next Friday.” he says.
Sunggyu hears rather than sees Sungjong closing his book and giving Hoya a look.
“I know.” Sungjong says, lips pressed together as if he was trying not to sound too harsh. Feline eyes, heavy eyeliner and straight black hair, Sunggyu thinks he's the most attractive out of them four. “We know. I'm the leader, Hoya, these things are my responsability.”
Hoya simply shrugs and leans back against the wall.
“So are we performing monster in the end?” Sungyeol speaks up for the first time in what seems centuries since they have arrived there. “Or we'll go for mighty long fall in the end?”
“I think we should perform monster.” Sunggyu says, licking his lips. “I can pull it off better, and we need to win this.”
“We don't need to win this.” Sungjong retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. “We're going to win this.”
Sunggyu resists the urge to smile and goes back to look at the ceiling, his mind absently and curiously drifting off to the face of someone he had an encounter with before arriving to the practice room.
*******
Woohyun is annoyed in all the ways a person can be annoyed. He's infuriated, raging, livid. He wants to knock down those peeling, dirty walls and punch someone in the face, better if that someone carries the name of Kim Sunggyu, brownish hair and white shirt with a loose tie, walking around the campus as if he owned the whole world.
Sure, he might own the whole world, but he doesn't own Woohyun.
He arrives at his own practice room bursting the door open and scaring the shit out of the other two members.
Myungsoo is holding a camera on his hands and Dongwoo is playing the guitar, sitting next to each other and shoulders brushing.
“What's up, dude.” Dongwoo asks, and his soft, reassuring tone of voice only irks him up even more.
“We need to win.” he furiously spits, kicking the nearest chair with his foot, using all his strength. “Next Friday, we have to win.”
Myungsoo finally looks up from his camera since he had entered the room and the impassivity resting on his eyes makes Woohyun take a step back and breathe in.
“We're going to win.” Myungsoo says, returning his gaze to the screen and biting his lower lip. “Don't ever doubt that.”
*****
Sunggyu thinks there are many ways a person can love other. In the way your mother tucks you in bed when it's late and you have school tomorrow, or when your father picks you up when it's already over; the way your best friend would stay with you up all night laughing about everything and nothing or comforting the other when they have a broken heart. There are good loves, and there are bad loves. Sunggyu thinks, despite all the pain, despair, words like knives and frivolous comments, his love for Woohyun is good. Despite all the teasing, all the looks and Funny thing, it's not the same the other way around.
He knows, god, he knows, he should leave and not see the boy ever again. But how is he even supposed to do that when being with Woohyun, when loving Woohyun (loving, whispering sweets nothings as he fucks him raw against the matress of their old practice room downtown) feels just so good.
There are three empty bottles of vodka scattered across the floor, and just the sight of them make Sunggyu feels disgusted, nauseated, dizzy. He puts his head between his hands, resting his elbows on his thighs, and side eyes the man lying next to him on the sofa, completely naked but lower part covered with a tattered blanket. His face looks so calm, so quiet, that Sunggyu has trouble thinking it's the same man just a few hours ago was begging him to thrust into him faster. He looks at his lips and memories of the previous kisses make his head spin around, the sweet, addicting taste, mixed with the bitter, loathsome taste of the alcohol. The same alcohol Woohyun always drinks whenever he spends a night with him, and it has become a rather often thing to happen. He hates the way Woohyun would only pull him closer after the bottle's put down. Hates the way Woohyun only loves him back when he's drunk.
Sunggyu runs his fingers along Woohyun's silhouette, feeling the skin trembling under his touch.
He gets up, picking up the bottles and throwing them into the bin, cleaning his hands afterwards. He's dirty, full of purple marks on his body (neck, thighs, hips) and eyeliner stains all over his face. He looks tired, ragged, worn out, weary and probably sad. Nevertheless, can't really dwell on those matters, because the essence of Woohyun's touches still lingers on his skin and he can't help but smile as he goes out of the place.
*****
They hate each other, don't talk to each other unless it's to say something hurtful, don't look at each other unless is to give a scornful look. Those were the rules set up by Woohyun. Rules Sunggyu never cared for. He looked at Woohyun whenever he wanted to, and even dared to send teasing kisses and playful smirks, annoying the boy to no point.
Friday arrives earlier than expected.
Sunggyu is nervous, and has troubles applying the eyeliner, but once he's done and is standing in front of everyone, hands on the microphone and eyes closed, focused on the music, he loses sense of everything else: it's just him and the music, the music and him. He sings, and for a moment thinks the name that slips past his lips is Woohyun's.
Woohyun is agressive, abrassive on stage. He moves, jumps, and plays with his voice however he wants to; he has all the control over it. Sunggyu is quieter, calmer, but hypnotizes with the way the words come out of his mouth.
Both bands are standing face to face, leaders in the front part and the members are looking at each other with such hatred that Woohyun wonders how's that even possible. He feels the weight of Sunggyu's gaze on him, and when he swallows hard and dares to look at him in the eye, he immediately regrets it. Sunggyu looks fierce, harsh, unapproachable, tentative and mesmerizing.
“What's up, Nam.” he articulates, and Woohyun has to breathe in. “Did you not drink today?”
Clenching his fists, Woohyun just snorts.
“Why, do you wanna go out drinking with me?”
Sunggyu smiles.
“I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to reject this offer. Maybe next time.”
Their words are cut off by the sudden increase of the others' tone of voice, and when Woohyun looks back, Sunggyu is not there anymore.
“Sometimes I wish you'd stop playing around like this.”
Sunggyu is sitting on a park bench, eyes fixed on the grass and hands inside the pockets of his jacket. He's cold, and doesn't want Woohyun to notice he's trembling.
Woohyun sits next to him, bodies almost touching, and doesn't say a word for a while.
“This is how we said things would work out between us.”
“No.” Sunggyu shakes his head, and the smile on his lips is so broken that Woohyun just wants to kiss it off. “This is how you said things would work between us.”
“So what do you want, then?”
“Does that even matter.”
There's an unspoken confession between those words, between the shaky breaths and unperformed actions, on the way Woohyun's grabs Sunggyu's hand until it's out of his jacket and entangles their fingers together.
“I'm sorry.” that's all he says. “I'm sorry we have, had, to work out like this. I'm not sure when all that hatred turned into something completely different. And, to be honest? I was scared shitless.”
Sunggyu smiles, and hates how his fingers are trembling even more now that they are wrapped around Woohyun's.
“I was scared, too.” he says, and looks up at the starry sky. “I felt like a disposable object most of the time.”
“You're so stupid.” Woohyun smiles back. “You should have run away since the very first moment our eyes met.”
“When have I run away from something, Nam.”
“I'm glad you didn't.”
Sunggyu doesn't protest when Woohyun takes his hand and starts walking, heading his flat.
It's his first time there, they only used to meet up in that old, abandoned practice room. Woohyun's flat smells like him and Sunggyu tries to mesmerize everything.
“Where are the bottles?” he asks, when Woohyun moves closer and places his hands on each side of his hips, making him squirm when his lips are pressed softly against the sensitive skin of his neck.
“No.” Woohyun shakes his head. “I'm not drinking tonight.”