Work Text:
on day 49, sooho woke up from his nap. there was a beep coming from somewhere-- maybe the intercom? sieun hadn’t opened the window and the lights were on; it disturbed him.
or maybe he was wrong…the lights were somehow dimming and dimming and-
*
the sounds of a tv woke up sooho this time. his eyes barely open enough to see the shape of an old lady turned toward it. a wrinkled hand was rubbing his. it smelled like coconut and…grandmother?
he squeezed his grandmother’s(?) hand and the old lady shook, moving her frail body as fast as it could go to take a good look at sooho. tears began to fill the inner corners of her eyelids.
“sooho-ya, can you hear me?”
sooho hummed a yes. the tv was beginning to be a little loud, though. the window was open this time and sooho could hear birds chirping.
“and feel? can you feel my hand? hm? can you feel grandma’s hand?” she squeezed and began rubbing circles on his thumb’s knuckle.
another hum.
“oh, sooho-ya…how are you feeling, are you feeling okay?”
“sooho-ya? ah, nurse! sooho, can you hear me? can you hear grandma?”
sooho felt cold hands, unlike his grandmother’s, caressing his arm, feeling the inside of his elbow. weird…
*
sooho was eating rice and soup when sieun saw for the first time, a conscious sooho, in 67 days. he slowly walked over and just stood there, not saying hi, not showing any real emotion. and then-- a tear, rolling softly down his bandaged cheek.
“who did you fight?” another slurp and a mouthful of rice.
“what?” sieun looked like a lost puppy waking up from a bad nightmare.
“who gave you a cut big enough to fill your face, hm?”
sieun looked away and then eventually right at sooho, “s- some punk at school.”
“mm,” sooho didn’t look fazed, “did you deal with him?”
“yes.”
“good… tch, you want me to ask the nurse for some extra soup? are you hungry?”
sieun shook his head no and sat down in the chair next to sooho’s bed.
“maybe i’ll get some anyway.”
*
sooho got discharged on a sunny friday afternoon.
“it’s alright, grandma, i’ll get him home. you take a cab and get some rest, please.” sooho needs to walk more, sieun said earlier.
“bless you, sieun-ah.” she took his hand and bowed. “be careful sooho-ya, yes?”
“yes, grandma. i will be extra careful, hm? won’t i sieun-ah?”
“yes.”
they waited until she got into the cab before beginning their walk to sooho’s apartment.
“i guess you and her had the same thoughts…i thought she was going to say no.”
silence. but not the kind that sooho wasn’t used to. he had forgotten many things about his life but not really this. the unresponsive quality that sieun so often held.
“i’m starving- you want to eat? ahh, nevermind. lead the way sieun, take me out for bbq, hm? i’ll pay you back when we get home.”
sieun sighed, “you’re always starving.”
*
“you need to pay attention, sooho.”
“well your damn computer speakers sound wrong, won’t you get them fixed? how can i learn if the teacher in the video sounds like he’s speaking underwater?”
it had been bothering sooho for the past 2 hours during which he had been (getting tutored by sieun) studying, making up for the nearly 3 months he was out of school.
“better?” sieun turned the volume off and stared straight at him before dropping them to his work
sooho felt a small rock drop in his stomach but made nothing of it. clearing his throat, “yes, teacher sieun. that’s much better. thank you.”
the corners of sieun’s tight-lined lips twitched.
“okay then, how far have you gotten with your english review?”
“mmm, half of these phrases don’t make sense but i think it’s fine for now. enough, at least.”
“which phrases?” sieun stayed slumped over his notebook, scrabbling something.
“these, here-- look.”
sieun rolls his chair closer, shadowing sooho. the close proximity doesn’t make him uncomfortable but any contact was something sooho controlled, not sieun-- even on accident.
“any phrase in particular?” what.
“what?” sooho blinked twice.
“which phrases don’t make sense, sooho?” oh.
sooho slouches, points to at least 6, and then slings his arm around sieun’s shoulder. control.
sieun doesn’t try to shrug him off but begins to repeat the phrases and what they mean.
sooho couldn’t pay attention.
sieun’s eyes were glued to the paper but sooho’s wandered around sieun’s room. no matter how often he’d occupied it (which was a lot lately since he had to return to school in less than 2 weeks) it always looked a little different. it’s not like sieun moved things around. everything that wasn’t his school books or on his desk was covered in a fine layer of dust. this was, of course, only before sooho began coming over more often. getting past the entry hall stage and transitioning into the “gets to come into sieun’s room” stage.
sooho was respectful, true. getting raised by a grandma meant it was only natural. however…whenever it came to sieun’s room, the back of his mind was always scratching him, telling him to touch every possible thing; ask about every possible thing. and that’s exactly what he did.
sooner or later, everything started moving around. the old airport snowglobe (that was gifted to sieun when he was 9) that had once been nudged behind a stack of algebra books now stood on top of sieun’s night stand. a coat rack only ever holding (barely just) sieun’s gray hoodie eventually became the colors of nike windbreakers.
to sooho, sieun’s room was like those postcards that seemed to change depending on the perspective you looked at it. similar to sieun himself.
others saw him as a psycho geek who befriended no one, minus sooho.
sooho saw sieun as a postcard.
a postcard with a cool stamp on the back and a note, writing, “you’re the only person in this universe who understands…”
a postcard that had scuffed edges and was talking to him, insistently tapping his shoulder.
“sooho. sooho. soo-”
“hm, yes?
he was looking him straight in the eyes again. sooho didn’t understand why it was beginning to bother him-- but it made him feel weird. vulnerable.
“did you catch what i said?”
“yes.” no.
*
the drive from sieun’s cram school to wherever the hell they were going was silent, making the quiet streets scream and sizzling the nervous feeling between them in hot oil.
usually sooho could talk his way out of feeling a tingling sensation on the back of his neck when sieun lightly rested his helmet head on his back. or go faster after a speed bump when sieun’s tightening grip causes the pit of sooho’s insides to feel like fire.
not this night.
no, this night sieun’s arms laid on the small angle between sooho’s hip bones and his leg, cradling his torso.
this night sooho’s grips on the bike handles would become butter.
this night sooho would wade through time and late at night, he would sweat buckets-- waking up to thoughts of sieun that made him feel like ice. thoughts of his best friend in ways he’s felt creeping on him, taunting his mind.
this night, in the dimness of his room, through grogginess but a very aware sense of desire, sooho would feel himself.
at first it would start off careful and insecure, but dream sieun would pull the hairs at the crown of his head and nip at his ear. dream sieun would breath heavy breaths against sooho and ask for more. dream sieun would shed his shy skin and look him straight in the eye, staring him down while whispering his name in choked up pants.
this night would end with sooho shaking and biting down on his hand until it bled to keep from noise escaping his lips.