glory & gore

but in all chaos, there is calculation, dropping glasses just to hear them break. you've been drinking like the world was gonna end (it didn't).

[mvnshine]

dive

At Sungbin’s apartment, late afternoon.

It went like this: Moon texting Sungbin when he was already on his doorstep, a bag slung around his wrist and his hair still smelling like salon-strong chemical dye, masked at least by the conditioner raked through it after. The effect of his typed out ‘I’m coming’ was ruined by the ‘I’m here’ not three minutes later, too impatient to let his ruse play out. He hadn’t really factored in what his plan would’ve been if Sungbin hadn’t been home, but there hadn’t been an insta-story of Sungbin lifting anything heavy in the gym and it wasn’t his shift, so he went with it. 

It sounded like this: an awkward excuse from a boy who’s not used to sounding awkward. ‘I wanted to watch that new movie, it’s too scary alone. Really. I heard someone couldn’t sleep for a week.’ because honestly speaking Moon doesn’t usually care all too much about horror movies, but that’s what he’d managed to find in his ten-minute cab ride to Sungbin’s place. He’d let him in anyway, so it didn’t matter. 

It looks like this: Moon flicking the metal tab of his grape Fanta he’d brought over, staking his claim on a little less than half of that sunken-in sofa. He’s not actually watching the movie, because he really doesn’t like gore, but every so often he flinches at the sound anyway. It’s when the credits start rolling that Moon realizes that for one, he hadn’t payed attention to any of that movie and he hopes that Sungbin doesn’t want to have a discussion about it, and two, he hadn’t actually figured out a second step to his already shoddy first (and could it really be called a first?).

It’s just that it feels like this: an unresolved something that’s been swimming laps in his chest. The beginning of...what? Not even a conversation. A statement, or a question, or maybe just a suspicion. Maybe it was something small and silly and insignificant and that was why Sungbin never brought it up again. But it’s Moon and he always feels too much, and so it swims around in his chest until he’s stir-crazy with it. Needs to haul it out himself, figure out what it is - a shadow or something real, something that matters. Even if it’s a bad matter, at least that would be better than the unknowing. 

So now he’s like this, twisting the remote out of Sungbin’s hand enough to turn the volume of the TV down when it auto-switches to a movie rated mostly-similar by the streaming service’s AI. “Sungbin...” it’s always easy to start things, less so to finish them, at least properly. “I want to talk to you.” the remote’s discarded, dropped somewhere between his ankle and Sungbin’s thigh. He rings his fingers around Sungbin’s wrist instead, toys idly with the cuff of his sweatshirt. “Do you want to talk to me?” It sounds like more, from his voice. Sounds like that something that’s been swimming around in his chest, and he’s hoping Sungbin doesn’t duck out from it with a smile and a joke, something to escape words - ‘of course, let’s talk about ordering chicken.’ Though, Moon supposes, maybe that would mean something. Just the kind that requires an assumption, and that’s what Moon hates the most. “Is it okay?” he’s looking at Sungbin’s wrist still when he says it.

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

cassaps​:

“no, ugh. don’t go for it.” it’s instinctive, that he scrunches up his nose at the thought, and sure, there’s jealousy playing into his aversion, but mostly if moon deserves better than sungbin, surely he deserves better than minjoon, too. “i dunno if he had a vibe, but i mean. i just thought.” who wouldn’t be into moon, really? it’s just sensible. “the shirts are kinda cool, though. some of them. he’s just not got the right image going to pull it off. but, like, if he owns the club, why can’t be pay you? that’s bullshit.” trash talking people with moon is always fun, and he could use some of that. especially when it’s about freeloaders. “i kinda thought he might be, y’know. he works out.” they should probably get off the floor sometime soon, and sungbin needs to finish his food, too. but sitting here, like this, feels good. like it’s all real, and he just needs to focus on this moment and everything will be fine and less of a shitshow. “don’t ask him out, moon, please, you’ll eviscerate the rest of my sanity of he shows up while we’re hanging out and tries to talk to me. he’s just so… slimey.”

“Yeah, of course. You can always sleep over. You know that.” Moon nudges Sungbin gently enough with the side of his knee. “Even if you’re boring I can still use you as a space heater, which is makes up for it.” he can’t tell if these are the right sorts of phrases to pick out and say, but they’re there. Already walked out of his mouth. There’s no putting them back, that’s been something Moon’s had to make peace with over the span of his own life with how little time he often lets words sit quiet in his head before speaking them to life. 

“Just don’t tease me when I get us Starbucks tomorrow morning. I need to get the app stickers so I can get the end of the year prize. Actually, I still don’t know which I want. But then it’s like, if I drink a lot of coffee really fast maybe I can get all three options before they go out of stock.” it’s been a worry as of late, collectors editions of things have a certain grip on him.

That heavy subject is dragged back, a weighted blanket and Moon isn’t sure whether he should burrow underneath and embrace the feeling or attempt to fold it up, save it for a day when Sungbin’s bones don’t feel like lead enough already. “Yeah. I got angry. I get angry in every relationship I’m ever in. That’s probably pretty normal. Nobody’s perfect all the time.” the words are true, but applied to Moon’s dating life and that’s where it starts to look ill-fitting. But he’s decided in the twenty seconds it’s taken to say all of it that folding up the blanket and setting it aside for later is for the best. Sungbin seems wrung out and ragged enough without dredging up the past.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not about deserving people. It’s kind of weird to think about, right? Like, being deserving of someone. It makes me feel weird, thinking about it like that. And I mean, I do. Think about it. Just...” he pauses, turns to look at Sungbin and hopes he at least gets the intention of his words, that it’ll smooth some band-aid over everything, even if it isn’t a permanent solution. But just for the night. just for a little while. “You don’t have to deserve someone to let them love you, I think. Or to love them back.” He lifts his shoulders, and the motion’s almost too slight to be called a shrug. 

The blanket’s folded up, tucked away, and Moon starts talking about his day. 

“The shirt is really not cool at all, please, please tell me you are not planning on buying any.” Moon shakes Sungbin’s hand against his own as he says it. “And I mean, I guess like, even if he owns it, who knows if he’s making a decent profit. I think it’s not like a hot spot right now so he wants to get in some acts that’ll get people in the doors. But also...” he trails off, though the quiet is disrupted buy a teasingly-disgruntled hiss, a gurgle of a noise as he bumps against Sungbin’s frame. “I don’t like someone just because they work out. I’m not like that.”

“I won’t ask him out. He’s really not my type. Promise.” And the request doesn’t mean more than Sungbin trying to guide him away from another bad pick, but it feels nice, sometimes. A warmth spilled underneath his skin.

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

cassaps​:

so he lets it wash over him, turns mun’s hand over in his palm to trace his knuckles. manages to get that urge to cry squashed down a little, at least, and at the end of it he’s a little less shaky overall. not great, or even fine, but he’s made a turn on the road that would’ve led him to a full on breakdown, so that’s something. “what,” and he has to clear his throat before he goes on, “is he into you? minjoon? was he coming on to you?” and then, because he feels like it and mun’s never opposed, he drags him closer, fits his chin over the crown of mun’s head. the angle’s awkward, but he’s making it work.

“Yeah, that’s fine. We don’t have to be positive.” because they don’t, and Mun doesn’t necessarily think it’s healthy to be positive all the time anyway. “I just...wanted to make sure you weren’t sinking down somewhere you couldn’t get out of easily, is all.” he admits, tone carefully creeping between them. Sungbin has hidden a fair bit from them throughout the years - dating or otherwise - he’s sure, but he couldn’t hide it all. Mun’s seen him in low spots, even if he doesn’t have all the pieces to put it together proper and easy to read. 

Their breakup is a strange thing, it almost feels like a ghost sometimes. Following them around, a haunting presence that neither of them will admit to, because ghosts aren’t real, and so you just don’t. 'Do you see that apparition in the corner, too? The one that won’t leave us alone? The one with the horrible, familiar face and the way it unsettles?' You just don’t say that people. So Mun hadn’t in the same way that Sungbin hadn’t. Maybe they should’ve, but by now time’s been stretched so long that it stays a ghost, tied to the earth and refusing ascension. “I don’t know if it was like...you, Sungbin. I don’t think I was like ‘hey let’s break up because of you’ you know?” it’s been a while, but Mun knows himself well enough to know he often doesn’t initiate a breakup unless he’s making a dramatic point of something. 

“It’d have been dumb to stop taking something a doctor said would help. How would you have known, huh? Are you psychic and holding back on me?” Mun tugs gently at the shell of Sungbin’s ear when he says it, most of Sungbin’s face is too hidden away for anything else. Maybe there were options, pushing to get a change of medication, or seeing other therapists to get differing opinions when things didn’t seem to be working. But they were both so young (it feels like it now, at least). What did they know about anything?

“If there’s no point for you, then there’s no point for me either. So are we both pointless then?” Mun tries to tip his head sideways to see if he can seek out a hint of Sungbin’s eyes. Mostly he says it because he’s about 95% sure Sungbin will protest to the point that Mun is pointless, and he doesn’t trust himself to be able to find the proper words to talk about something like that. The point of living. He drops it, for the moment, at Sungbin’s request. Spins through his itinerary for the day instead, occasionally winding his fingers through Sungbin’s hair as he talks on auto-pilot.

“Into me? I mean, I don’t think. Mostly I think he just had some act drop out of a lineup and knows I can bring in a semi-decent audience, you know? But he can’t pay so it’s all...empty promises of a nebulous something.” he stretches his legs out and feels the stiff creak of a knee bent at the wrong angle for too long. “I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong. Do you remember him? Did he have a vibe? I guess I could ask him out. He’s not really my type. Honestly I hate those fucking shirts. I guess I could ask him to, like, not wear the shirt. But also he’s not my type in a general sense.” Sungbin inches in closer, like one of those overlarge dogs forcing itself into a lap and pretending it’s just as compact as a Pomeranian. Mun allows himself to be folded up close. “What d’you think?”

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

cassaps​:

and it’s sweet, how hard mun tries. it kind of makes him feel worse. especially because mun doesn’t know about all the things sungbin has given up on over the years, all those little broken deals he’d made with himself and never told anyone about because he didn’t want to be held accountable. but being negative won’t help, not when mun is going to be forced to cycle through different ways of saying the same thing, and sungbin isn’t sure he can stand hearing it now. so he says, “i hope so,” tries to force back tears and is mostly successful. there’s panic building within him that he squashes down as best as he can. sungbin reaches for mun’s hand, tabs his finger against mun’s thumb. squeezes his eyes shut as he attempts to slow his breathing. “can you just… just tell me what you got up to? today?” a distraction would be nice.

It feels strange, the moment. Something misshapen and dropped into the palm, ungainly and new, where you’re not quite sure what to do with it, where to put it. Not necessarily unwelcomed, just strange. Mun doesn’t have have a practiced ease to slip into, has never been the one Sungbin has unfolded in front of, flicking past some vibrant-colored cover and into those pages written so small they seem to be hiding. (And does Sungbin bare those pages to anyone at all? Mun used to wonder). There’s that flutter of a feeling, like an agitated bird had finished nesting in his chest, looking now for a way to climb back out again. He doesn’t want to make things worse (he’s always had a habit of that), and simultaneously, he doesn’t want to offer nothing. He tries, even if it seems like he’s doing it all wrong.

“Sure. But that’s because it’s the words that are changing right? You’ll feel the same because it’s always been the same. They just got it all wrong the first time.” Maybe. It seems reasonable at least, even if it doesn’t seem to be sweeping out those heavy feelings beginning to pool around them, all molasses heavy, meant to weigh you down to the marrow of your bone. 

“They could be. But, like, hey. It’s better to figure out it’s wrong than to keep bashing away at something that isn’t right. That’ll fuck you up even harder, right?” it won’t feel pretty, but so many emotions aren’t pretty. Mun’s learned that better than near anyone. Even that quick adrenaline-push of a happy high has to slide it’s way back down into the flat-line of normalcy, or to plummet even further. Stomach in the throat queasiness, or an anger that bites and chews and regurgitates. Never pretty. 

Mun quiets when Sungbin continues, mostly because that’s something he doesn’t have an immediate reaction for. It’s not like Sungbin had ever talked to him about that, his meds at the time or therapy, or the finer point of that long-laid minefield of problems their relationship had turned into. He scratches absently at the nailbed of his thumb, crumpling back his cuticle as he tries to sort through everything in his own head, their past and emotions he’s since tucked away, heavy like a lead blanket draped over an uncooperative body. A smother. But those are the sorts of things he shouldn’t talk about now, he has enough sense for that, with Sungbin like this against him, guilty and vulnerable. “Well. If it was a side effect then I guess it wasn’t your fault, right?” that doesn’t go about fixing much of anything, or the way the inside of Mun’s chest now feels like someone’s gone and picked a thick scab from the underside of it, left him stinging and raw. It wasn’t just about the sex he might say, at another time, on another day. I just felt unwanted, he might say, not at all.

Mun doesn’t want his voice to start that full-tilt of a wobble too, so he leans his head back against the edge of his mattress and pull in a few even-enough breaths to work his way through it. “Anyway, it’s fine now. We worked through it. We’re not, like, mad about anything anymore. It was just a piece of it all.” they’d broken up for more than just that, looking back (because how many times has Mun looked back on near-any relationship he’d had fallen to rubble?) and maybe he’d gotten himself more invested than Sungbin from the start. Maybe they just worked better as friends. 

“You just have to try. That’s the whole point of living anyway, right? Being forced to try all of it and hoping it ends up nice.” he combs at Sungbin’s hair, damp between his fingers as he stares up at his ceiling. Sungbin’s got his other hand, the one with the screwed up cuticle, presses against it like he knows. “Sure. Let’s see. I woke up, and then I used a new face wash. It was alright, like, I’ll definitely finish the bottle but I don’t think I’ll repurchase. Then, you know, skincare. I finished my Tom Ford perfume which is really upsetting. I have to remember to go to the department store later to get more. I wanted to wear my oversized black blazer, you know the one with- well, no. You don’t know. But anyway, I did. But I legit cannot find it. I swear to god, I think someone must have stolen it from me. So anyway, I had to just wear this because I was going to be fucking late. Which, like, then I had to take a taxi instead of the bus to get to the recording studio on time. But that went pretty well at least. Sill have some things to work on but at least it wasn’t a huge mess.”

“Then I went to meet you, and I was also talking to Minjoon, do you remember Minjoon? Like, kind of weird and always wearing those funky little Hawai’ian shirts? Anyway, he wanted me to play at a club he apparently owns - did you know he owned a club? Did I know that? - for free. So I was obviously like um, for fuck’s sake Minjoon. No. I need money to pay my electricity bill. Jesus Christ. And he was like, I’ll make it worth your while, which like, first of all how? So I hung up on him. Then you came out.” It hadn’t been a particularly eventful morning, but Mun can turn near-anything into a long-running monologue if you ask him to.  

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

cassaps​:

“but this is never going to go away. there’s no fucking cure for this, it’s just gonna be the same thing over and over, forever, and everything ‘til now has been a fuckin’ waste-“, and he would be shaking now, were his hold on mun not so tight. sungbin lets out a rough breath, lets his head thumb back against the bed. “and we broke up for those drugs they put me on and it wasn’t even worth it, because we have to start from scratch again, and i just. i don’t think i can do this again.”

Sungbin, Mun’s learned, is one of those people who likes to stand himself up tall and unmovable (seemingly). Wants for nothing to sway at his posture, some innate understanding that he can pull everyone up with him, keep all those faces from sinking under stagnating swamp water and succumbing to whatever hardship is clutching at ankles and sucking them under. But Sungbin’s a person too, same as everyone else. And everyone gets tired sometimes. Though Mun’s fairly sure he can count on one hand the number of times Sungbin has allowed himself to drop that stance and sink himself down willingly in front of him. It’s always a strange sort of feeling, like when a parents breaks down before you learn that they’re human, too. A weight in the gut, the shiver of his heart, and Mun reaches out to try and smooth the crease in his voice away. 

Sungbin’s breath is humid when it fans out across his neck. Mun drops his own head down, cheek against Sungbin with his hair tickling at skin. There’s nothing to say that can solve Sungbin’s admitted worries, hopes. There’s nothing he can use to cleanly sweep up that shattered mess. A glass cracked and split, splintered shards hiding invisible. It’ll take a while to find them all, before the fear of stepping on them barefoot goes away. That kind of a worry. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, because Mun’s incapable of staying fully quiet for so long. Noses in at Sungbin’s hair and curls his arm just a little tighter. 

“Sungbin, come on-” Mun murmurs it out when Sungbin starts to devolve, and it’s not because he thinks he’s being ridiculous, it’s just because Mun knows that feeling of being overwhelmed and choked by emotions. Knows the feeling of drowning inside of his own body, rationality too far away to clutch at, leaning instead on whatever impulse based firework sparks to life in his mind, all violent and white-hot. The kind of that that leaves him burned out and frazzled. “It can’t just be the same thing, right? This is a new thing. And if this is the new thing, the right thing, then like. I guess it makes sense, right? Why the old thing didn’t work.” there are better ways to say the words tumbling from Mun’s mouth, but the moment feels heavy and that’s just what comes out. 

Mun shifts, just slightly, when Sungbin rolls his head back. His own tipping to the side, wears a small, worried sort of frown as he looks at him. “Sungbin,” he says his name again, because that’s the easy part of the sentence. Reaches out to thumb against the curve of his cheek, because touching’s easier too. “We didn’t just break up because of the drugs, right? It’s okay.” he assumes that Sungbin’s trying to gather up all the blame he can and pile it on top of himself, assumes Sungbin might think Mun’s angry, and so he wants to ease at that feeling. Because he’s not angry. That’s not the emotion he’d pick to describe it. 

“But it’s like- it’s like starting from scratch, but maybe in the right way. Like. Like your car was all fucked up and someone was like oh your-” he realizes halfway through the sentence that while picking a car metaphor might be great to hold Sungbin’s attention, he actually knows nothing about cars. Continues on anyway - “your transistor is broken so you need to get on that. And you replace it or whatever. But like, it wasn’t even that. It was the spark plugs the whole time.” he squeezes at Sungbin’s side after he says it, “look. I only know like three car parts, but anyway. I’m just saying maybe this time...it’ll be easier? Or better, anyway?” he can’t guarantee it, know for sure. He’s no psychologist. But he’d like for it to be right. He’d like for it to be easier. 

“You can do anything you put your dumb stubborn brain to.”

Cliché, but in the moment it seems like something that would be nice to hear.

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

cassaps​:

so he shrugs. lets silence sit between them as he tries to figure out how to shape his feelings into words, twists his hand to link mun’s fingers with his own. “not that i’m fine, but like, he thought my old psychologist hadn’t been asking the right questions. so he had me do another interview with him, and now he thinks i’m bipolar, and that’s why the meds haven’t been working. and it’s been five years, right? and we never found, like, the right thing for me to take.” but it’s been five years, and he’s never quite made peace with depression, and bipolar feels so much bigger, more serious. he’s seen it used as a shitty trope on tv; maybe that’s why like it feels like there’s an abyss opening up below him. “so i guess that might be right, but it’s a lot to deal with. and i don’t want to be like that, so. i really don’t want it to be true.”

there’s a thread unravelling where the logo is sewn onto his sweatpants, and he puts his sandwich down, picks at it with his free hand. it’s impossible to look at mun right now. “i’m terrified of this, honestly.”

Mun’s not trying to be callous, but keeping his mouth or thoughts in any sort of tangible order has never been a strong suit. Has gotten him into trouble, into fights. Has said things he regrets and wants to take back, too. Some things he regrets but knows they were better said anyway. So he doesn’t think when he says it, not in the deep way of tunneling through layers and figuring out how they all might break on impact before he says them. But there is something there that Sungbin deserves to have sorted out, and that’s how he’s seeing this small gap of the picture Sungbin’s letting him see between the slip of his fingers. Depression or or something else, and Mun had been around to witness some of his lows. Some that he’d taken more personally than maybe he should have. Mun’s not a saint in comparison, he knows that. But so does Sungbin, and he’s in his apartment now by choice. 

He reaches out, because that physical anchor always provides so much stability for himself, and Mun’s the sort who will always compulsively offer what he chases after himself instead of drilling into the exact needs of who he’s with. It seems to work out alright for the moment though, Sungbin’s fingers sliding between his own, and Mun squeezes again. He’s quiet while Sungbin talks; and of course he’s heard of bipolar, but he also doesn’t know a lot about it past a scattering of characters he can half-remember from TV shows, and that will never glean all too many accuracies. 

“Well.” he starts and then stops, presses his thumb into that soft gap of skin between Sungbin’s fingers. A pressure, a reassurance, a nervous fidget, some combination of the three. “My knee jerk reaction is to open my mouth and give you a running commentary on every thought about this that jumps into my stupid brain. But I don’t know if  you want to hear any of that or if it’ll just make you want to punch me in the mouth for overstepping.” Maybe that’s his personal growth, realizing that Sungbin doesn’t want to hear Mun’s perspective on every issue they’ve come to face. Mun can’t really tell if it counts or not. 

He does hook his fingers in against the edge of the table, pushes it off and too the side so he can slide himself closer, fit his back against his bed frame too. Releases Sungbin’s hand only briefly so he can wind their arm together until they’re linked up, replaces his hold on Sungbin’s hand. “It sounds scary.” he agrees, traces the fingers of his free hand over the juts and bumps of Sungbin’s knuckles. 

“Even if it’s...like, even if he’s right. You’re still Sungbin. Having a word doesn’t change you, right? So you’re not becoming like anything. You’re just staying the same.” maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut continuously, finds himself chewing on his lower lip and wondering if he’s making everything worse. “I still love you. Your friends all still love you. Having a word for something won’t make any of that go away.” a truth he hasn’t shied away from, and it’s not the first time he’s said it - a staunch defender of platonic love, even if what he’s had with Sungbin has blurred the lines a bit. 

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

cassaps​:

a slice of his meat threatens to take a dive towards the table, and sungbin rescues it last second. sits there quiet afterwards, tries to figure out whether telling now will be easier than later. but there’s frustration clawing up his throat that makes him want to cry, and mun deserves a warning at least.

“my new doc doesn’t think i’ve got depression.”

“Well then, you cleaning connoisseur, solve all my problems for me on a day when we’re more caffeinated.” There’s a teasing lilt there, that waver of the voice that pushes the sentiment that Mun doesn’t expect it. Filler words and a subtle brush-away of the fact that his apartment’s a mess, that he doesn’t actually want Sungbin to slip inside and start reorganizing everything for him. Maybe it will happen one day when they are more caffeinated, when Sungbin doesn’t look like he’s in one of those moods. Those moods, with an unlabeled-label, and Mun had started referring to them like that way back when, years ago when they’d been dating. And they got that name because when Sungbin started wearing a look like that it usually meant he’d disappear for a week or two before resurfacing, pretending like it all hadn’t happened. 

At least now the relationship’s meant to be a little less serious in the vein of codependency. The vein where Mun doesn’t really have a right to get pissed off about that sort of thing as long as he knows Sungbin is safe, anyway. There’s a chance it’ll happen whenever Sungbin goes home, but it’s been long enough now that there’s a chance that he won’t. That could be what they call self growth. Mun wonders if he’s done any of that growing also. 

This cycle’s worn in the way Sungbin’s old sweats spinning through the wash. A comfort, and something you also realize you should try to trade out from. Eating food that you know you should eat, the taste a little bland. Not the restaurant’s fault, just distracted taste buds and a quiet that feels more oppressive than comfortable. But then, Mun never really feels all that comfortable in silence, so perhaps it’s an unfair judgement. The click of his jaw against hard baguette, a thrown out suggestion, waiting to see if Sungbin will zone out or reengage with the world. He’s not angry, it’s just that Mun still has that problem of being unsure of what to do with himself.

The conversation cracked open is unfamiliar, he isn’t used to Sungbin talking things through with him. It leaks out like an ooze of runny egg, cold and unsuspected. He sets down the remainder of the sandwich, brushes crumbs from his fingers before glancing over to his friend. “Well. That’s stupid, isn’t it? What does he think, you’re just fine or something?” There should maybe be an assumption there, that the new therapist thinks Sungbin’s been misdiagnosed, but Mun’s familiarity with therapists isn’t all that vast, so his mind swings in the opposite direction. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he slips his fingers around the underside of Sungbin’s wrist and squeezes, can feel the scatter of Sungbin’s pulse against his palm.

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

cassaps​:

there’s something like ritual to this, so he sinks into mun’s bed after, scoots over into the corner to leave space because sometimes, like this, it feels good to be a little boxed in. “what’d you get us?” his voice comes out quiet, but there’s less of that airy quality to it, so there’s an improvement. maybe he won’t be entirely useless over the course of the evening.

It’s a quieter trip back home than time spent with Sungbin would usually be, but Mun has enough self awareness to realize Sungbin might need time to organize his thoughts or pull energy back around himself again. He’d gone to an agreement to chill post-therapy with this thought tucked away in his head anyway. That maybe he’d use some of the time to write music or lyrics while Sungbin decompressed. “I know, but like, as a general warning. I want you to be prepared.” Sungbin is likely prepared for his room, but it feels like the polite thing to do anyway, the reminder. 

“About it how? I’m not sure I can fit any more drawers or shelves in here.” Mun mentions absentmindedly as he kicks off his shoes and glances around the space. There is the option of sorting through everything and deciding between what he needs and what he doesn’t, but that sounds like a level of mental exhaustion he doesn’t want to invite on himself for as long as he can put it off for (read: when he’s moving out, therefor putting two layers of stress on top of himself, but Mun isn’t the type to jump on a project he hates before reaching such a tipping point).

 “Go for it, there’s new body wash in there, it’s really nice. Steal some if you want.” Sungbin already knows where he keeps towels and shampoo, he’s showered at his place enough times to figure it all out. Mun trades out jeans for sweats as he hears the water from the shower scatter across tile. Digs out papers and balances a guitar in his lap as he tries to rework a chorus that still doesn’t sound right to him, the quiet pluck of acoustic to distract himself. He does shift it aside though, tucks the neck of it back into the stand when Sungbin comes out again and looks at him like he isn’t about to take a nap.

“I just got some banh mi, it seemed easy, but the place had good ratings, so. You want the chicken or beef?” Mun stands up as he talks to retrieve the bag he’d left on the counter, works on unknotting the plastic handles as he waits for an answer, hands over one of the boxes before sinking to his floor - stretches out to unfold his floor table. “Tired or not too bad?” Mun asks as he pops the lid of his own box and takes a bite. Hungry enough after a morning spent in the studio to eat his way through it efficiently. 

“Should I ask you how you’re doing or are you all talked out of things now?” Mun stretches a foot under the table as he says it, lets toes collide with the curve of Sungbin’s knee. “We can watch a movie or something if you just wanna destress.” 

[mvnshine]

epilogue.

Mun and Sungbin, Mun’s apartment post-therapy.

The building had been nearby enough, somewhere is the nebulous middle of where they both lived. Around there anyway, Mun didn’t count his steps. Maybe Sungbin had, but when they’d met up after and Sungbin had nudged into where Mun was sitting on a blocky planter he hadn’t looked up for that kind of conversation. And maybe that was what had Mun leading him back in the direction of his place, telling him he swore it was faster, and the bus that took them his way was coming three minutes sooner anyway, because he knew nobody was home at his place, just in case Sungbin didn’t want to navigate roommates or anything draining or unsuspecting that might’ve come with it.

He didn’t have to meet him there, but it seemed more simple to cut halfway through from the tiny studio he’d rented out for an hour than jump past him and go all the way home. It left him time to order food too, the plastic knotted around his wrist in the way that threatens circulation. He doesn’t know exactly what Sungbin experienced, or how he feels, but what he does know is that Sungbin’s always been vague and closed off about the topic, so it’s nearly habitual to offer him one of his airpods while they ride the bus, lets Sungbin steal the window seat and toys around on his phone until they round to his stop. 

“I tried to clean.” an explanation that sounds more like a warning when they trek their way up the stairs and Mun keys in his door code. It’s at least clean in the grand sense of the word, there’s no mold or empty noodle containers. It’s just that his things rest in perilous piles on top of a dresser, clothes halfheartedly folded and jammed into a drawer that ran out of space five shirts ago. “There’s at least floorspace though, and I even went to the laundromat to wash my blankets, so. It’s basically a five-star hotel experience.” he talks mostly to himself as he kicks off his shoes. 

“Hungry now? If you want to nap or something I can work on music or whatever.” Mun offers as he unwinds the plastic bag handles from his wrist, rubs away those angry red welted lines, flexes his fingers and waits for the pins and needles to stop prodding at his nerve endings. 

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

if mun actually wants to choose what to order, sungbin won’t have any issues with it; he can eat almost anything anyway, and mun knows him well enough. so he shrugs, hides a smile in mun’s hair when he ducks down to bump their heads together. “sure. you can bring whatever.” and then the moment breaks, and he tugs at mun’s hand to get him to stop for a moment, let him slip out of his sneakers. “if you want pics, we should take them now. lighting’s good.”

“I’m kidding, I don’t think anyone actually wants a broken nose. Well, except maybe someone who, like, really wants a nose job. But then their parents said they couldn’t get a nose job, but then when it gets broken they can just get the surgeon to, you know, fix it up a bit.” a small tangent, but that’s how Mun learned to fill those quiet spaces in the middle of car rides, even if they’re now disengaging from the whole car ride portion of the trip. But if Sungbin found his stories annoying, they likely wouldn’t still be friends. Though perhaps caught in his own rambling, he doesn’t understand the weight behind his words. Sungbin buries them deeper, hides it from the light of the conversation, and Mun  — oblivious  — steps over it. 

“It would be nice, get it. I can do my conch or something and we can go together.” Mun has plenty of silver in his ears, but he always manages to find room for just a little more. They shift conversation as they walk, bumping into each other along the way, navigating into new territory and then backing away from it before it has a chance to flower into anything uncomfortable. 

“Well, if we have to be broke for this long, that must mean we’ll have to eventually be rich, right?” Mun isn’t the type to go all in on the concept of a wheel-like cycle of fate, or astrology, or a tarot reading. But it’s more comforting to pretend sometimes. That’s how he’s been living his life for a while, the pretending of it.

“But if you go to the new therapist then I’ll just buy you dinner, so you get to eat either way. And with me paying it’s like a two-for-one deal.” Not really, but he knows even with his minimal understanding of things that Sungbin shouldn’t talk himself out of a new doctor. “I am not picky.” a trade of banter before they reach the edges of the sand. Moves to fish his phone out of his pocket, makes sure he has all the right settings enabled before he hands it over. 

There’ll likely be a small gallery-full of pictures by the time Mun’s content with it all, and at least one picture where Mun managed to cram himself in close enough to Sungbin, a hand thrown around his waist to steal a picture of them both, too (”I know you don’t care about the pictures, but I want to commemorate the moment with you”) before Mun lets his attention flicker to a walk between wet sand banks and sea foam. Will inevitably end up in a cheap little hotel room later, half twisted together and pretending it doesn’t mean much of anything. 

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

and it’s not like the suggestion is bad. a personal presentation of those very basic facts would probably be better, but sungbin doesn’t really like repeating himself, and mun’s right in suggesting it. “you know, if i lead with you, they’re not gonna want to talk about me. they’ll just be asking me about you.” somehow, somewhere in there, a smile has made it back on his face. “you can meet me after. grab dinner.” cuddle, he doesn’t say, but that usually makes him feel better when he’s exhausted, and mun makes for a perfect candidate.

“I’ll nurse you back to health. But knowing you it’ll be like a badge of honor.” transported into that scenario, where he’s at in life now, he doesn’t want to see Sungbin fighting much of anyone. Once upon a time, way back when, sure. He’d liked it, the same way he’d liked getting into smoking and drinking until it all came out of him again. Those bad decisions he hasn’t entirely outgrown, but is trying to pull away from himself like a discount sticker cemented on, glue melted on heat-wave strong; impossible to scrub free, but he’s been trying. Trying in the way where he wouldn’t think it was quite so sexy to see someone’s fist slamming into Sungbin’s face. But he doesn’t tell him that. 

Mun ends up grinning at Sungbin’s question, shoves lightly at his shoulder even as he moves in again, chasing after him like a magnet. “Yeah, you could. But why are you out here trying to make yourself into something I’d find cute? Hmm?” It’s all teasing layered on top of teasing. Mun assumes it anyway. He’d maybe like it to be true, but that’s something different altogether. “If you got a nose ring though, I think a septum would look better.” Mun tips his head as he says it, but he doesn’t really believe Sungbin will get it. He’d been into Sungbin’s tongue piercing back when, but now that it’s gone Sungbin doesn’t seem like he’s in a hurry to replace it.

“Come on. The beach is nice. And anyway isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? Like, the more shit the world puts you through the more you’ll get later?” he hopes it works like that anyway. He knows it doesn’t, in reality, but Mun hates getting stuck in a pessimistic loop. He’d rather believe falsely in some red string of fate bullshit than let himself get swept up in it. When he does, it usually leads him down a bad path. Something about binge drinking and getting into things over his head, not caring about the mouthfuls of water he swallows when he’s down there. “I know it’s not really, but. Maybe if you just think it hard enough, then that’s when it works.” he says it only because he knows Sungbin won’t call him stupid for it.

“Understandable. And then you’d get sidetracked too, because I bet you just love talking about me, don’t you?” Mun asks him, because now Sungbin’s smiling again, so what does it matter if it’s no longer something serious, important. He won’t push, he’d decided on that one already, years ago. “Of course I will, I’ll even let you pick. As long as it’s not like...gross. Sometimes you pick gross food Sungbin. Actually, maybe I should just pick.” he throws a grin sidelong to Sungbin, veers them both off the path when they make it close enough to see sand. 

“We can have takeout at your place.” he says that part a little more softly, tucked up near Sungbin’s ear, the teasing’s gone. He squeezes at Sungbin’s arm once to reassure him. “Okay, beach. Are you gonna jump in the water or take a picture of me?” he slips out from underneath Sungbin’s arm, but grabs at his hand as he goes. 

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

it’s the thought of having to go through all that again that makes him hesitant. and now, after so many years, he’s starting feeling a little helpless, like a pool of dread opening up in his stomach. sungbin does his best not to think about it, spiral like that – and he certainly never talks about it, either – but it feels like it won’t ever get better, and sometimes that thought is unbearable. “yeah, probably.” he doesn’t really believe it when he says it, but he knows there’s logic to the things mun is saying, that he’s being needlessly negative about this. has been trying to shake himself out of that mindset to no avail. “i just wish i could skip ahead a little. get all the introductions and stuff out of the way.”

“I think you’re just misremembering the situation, and your shoddy memory isn’t my problem.” Mun teases back, flimsy enough that they can both see through it and into Mun playing along for a bit at this point. “Mm, fine, I will. You better come save my ass. If my nose gets broken I’m going to lie on your couch and make you take care of me for not rescuing my,” here he stops and gestures in a vague circular motion to his own face “in time.” It’s nicer outside the car, and with the ocean comes a stronger breeze than in the city. Clearer skies too, when he tips his head back to take it in.

“Being my driver is like, an honor, I have so many fans who would be jealous of your position.” Mun smiles wide as he says it, tugs lightly at the hem of Sungbin’s shirt when he gets close enough. A fond gesture, one that relies on too much time spent together and an unrealized intimacy. “It’s not like I knew about his kink when we started dating. He just had such a cute nose ring, who could blame me for falling into his trap with my flawless ankles?” Hands tucked together and it turns into a familiarity worn into both of them over time. 

“Okay.” Mun answers him back, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever fully be able to understand Sungbin’s perspective on the matter. Will always want dozens of pictures, especially when he’s with someone else he wants to remember. A moment he wants to trap, so he can pull them out later and relive them in bits and pieces. 

“Then...maybe it’s good? To find someone else, right? If it’s not working, they could have some better idea for a medication?” Mun doesn’t really know about how it works, but he wants to be reassuring. He doesn’t want Sungbin to dread meeting up with someone new, and he doesn’t want him to fall into a bad place like he has in the past so many times. 

“It could be karma, you know. Like, your current circumstances can’t meet what you need anymore so the world is just...pushing them off to a new place and then...pushing this other person into your life.” Mun shrugs, and he’s pretty sure Sungbin doesn’t follow along with the idea of fate, but Mun’s always thought it seemed like a reassuring concept. That out there eventually some red string would pull you where you need to go, wind you up with someone meant to be your other half. Even if it was unrealistic. “It’s just a nice thought. I bet you’ll like them, you just need to wait for the new to start feeling like a routine.” Mun bumps their shoulders together gently once, tries not to speak too much on the topic, doesn’t want Sungbin to clam up, doesn’t want to sour his good mood.

“Could you like...type up a letter or something? Like, hey, I really hate intros. So here’s my about me and relevant things you should know and also my best friend is basically famous and so cool and here’s a link to his latest EP?” Mun cuts at himself trying to be helpful with just a bit of humor, an attempt to keep their conversation comfortable. “If you need help with anything, I can. I’m not totally useless all the time.”

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

“i’m gonna have to. because i can’t do online, i get too distracted, and obviously i’m not gonna travel that much.” sungbin doesn’t really like thinking about it, about having to get used to someone else knowing too much about his inner workings. opening up doesn’t really get easier the more you do it. “he’s gonna refer me to someone, we’ll see. i just really don’t want to start that cycle with the meds again.” mun draws away after leaning into his side, but sungbin reels him back in by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. mun’s kind of the perfect height for it.

“That’s patently untrue. You’re making up lies to slander me. I refuse to believe it.” Mun teases him back, even if he knows he can turn sloppy and uncoordinated after one too many drinks and it is probably the case. “If I was sober...it depends what the whole thing is about. You know I talk too much. If it’s, like, stupid. Then yeah, I’d disengage. But if someone’s pissed me off then we really just need to trust that they don’t want to get arrested for punching me in the face.” Mun laughs at that, largely because it just feels like it’s true. Will push his luck in near every circumstance, and the fact that he hasn’t gotten into a true fight before centers around the fact that he’s often friends with equally dramatic and gangly musicians. Sungbin being the fit outlier.

“I’ll just take a taxi forever unless I decide to leave the city.” Probably he should actually get his license at some point, even if he doesn’t plan on getting a car, but he hasn’t yet crossed that bridge of a time commitment and brain capacity. “If he wanted to do something weird like dip them in butter then, like, yeah. Gross, no. But he mostly just wanted to give me foot massages, so, whatever.” Mun shrugs, and he can understand the whole situation was weird, but the fact that the guy often stared at him like he was a god was a large turn on until the moment that it ground to a stop and Mun decided that he rather hated it. “You know me, I’m scandalous.” Mun quirks his brows and shakes his bangs from his eyes, something dramatic that he pairs with a smile.

Sungbin’s hand is a little warm from the sun after driving so long, and it's nice. Can feel at worn and familiar callouses as their fingers fit together as easy as anything. He throws a look sidelong though when Sungbin continues, expression wadding up, a mix of confusion and precautionary concern. "You don't? Why not. You should." and Mun looks at him a way that so very clearly conveys 'I do.' that it's nearly sweet - would be if they were dating, if they weren’t exes years away from that break-off point. 

Mun pulls his shoulders up, goosebumps scattering down his spine at the puff of air. He appreciates what he knows Sungbin is doing, but he still thumps his shoulder to Sungbin’s as they wander along. “Do you not like the ones you’re on right now?” Mun asks him when Sungbin brings up his meds. He knows about Sungbin’s venture into medication and therapy in bite-sized pieces. He knows he’s on medication, or off, or on something different. But he doesn’t know what about them were bad or what made Sungbin decide to change, not unless it involves something obvious like Sungbin falling off his radar for two weeks. 

He knows he sees a therapist, he knows Sungbin struggles, but he doesn’t know what’s best for Sungbin personally when he’s in a rough patch, how he should act. He doesn’t pry, not anymore, trying to force himself inside the boundary of Sungbin’s mental health concerns when they were dating only made things worse for them. Sungbin seems to appreciate space, and so since their break up Mun’s adhered to that. But when Sungbin brings it up, situations like this, he’ll try to talk to him. Not because he’s nosy (well, he is, but not when it comes to this), but because he does genuinely want to know. Wants to help. He fits himself into Sungbin’s side and looks out at the ocean, “and it’s a referral at least, so. I mean, if your current therapist likes them then maybe there’s a similar vibe or methodology, right? It could be an easy transition.”

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

they start walking, and sungbin adjusts the weight of the bag to sit a little more squarely against his back. takes a long moment to think about whether to bring it up, but he does sort of want to say it out loud, and mun’s going to know eventually either way. “my brain doctor’s moving. like, soonish.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like anyone’s perfect, and you said sorry, so. You’re forgiven.” Mun knows he’s leagues away from being a saint himself, has more than enough toxic traits and he’s only attempted to rework some of them. It’d be stupid, at least in a moment like this, to pin Sungbin down with anger. Not when nothing really came of it, not when Sungbin hadn’t hurt him. Mun’s never been one to hoard forgiveness, and there’s really no point in starting now. He wants to have a nice day, and he wants Sungbin to have a nice day with him. So he shifts the conversation like a distraction and hopes that it will ease away the last of the tension knotting Sungbin’s shoulders.

“I could probably manage. I’d just, like, koala cling. And anyway, how do you know I’d be drunk? Maybe someone would want to punch me in the face when I was sober, you don’t know.” Mun laughs the last part out, mostly because he likely would be drunk if he was getting his dumbass into a fight, because when else does he get mouthy enough to start an argument that he can’t back up than when he’s gotten in on a round of tequila shots? “Maybe I do want to learn. I’ll find an instructor. They probably have those, right? I mean, they must. How else do people just figure it out?” Mun’s talking half to himself by the end of it, but Sungbin’s likely used to the habit.

“I did not! It was after, of course I’d let him stare at my feet for free when I was dating, Jesus, I’m not a monster.” the whole conversation should really be throwing red flags on his dating choices (which it does not), but the absurdity of it does have Mun cracking up into a brief bout of laughter. “God, he’d fucking love those sandals I bet.” he can’t help but add on the middle of a laugh, and it’s hard to even make out his words well with the way they jump over the sound.

He’s worn himself down by the time he climbs out of the car, though unfortunately has managed to give himself hiccups in the fray of it. Holds his breathe at the same time he holds Sungbin’s hand and hopes he’ll be able to swallow them down quickly. “But you’re so pretty, you should be in loads of pics.” Mun can’t help but to complain, because it’s hard for him to wrap his head around a perspective like Sungbin’s (as valid as it may be). His point is undercut a bit, however, by the hiccup that punctuates the sentiment.

It quiets down in the way that often feels suffocating to Mun, so he offers out another branch of conversation. Glances over at Sungbin’s profile when he does pick it up. He rolls the words around in his head for a bit before he answers, “so, will you get a new doctor?” He swallows down another hiccup, mostly unsuccessfully. “I’m really being serious. I can’t stop. Sorry.” he skims in closer, winds his arm around Sungbin’s in a small, portable hug before letting himself drift out again. “Do you need help with anything?”

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

they don’t end up having to delve into that subject, which is probably for the better. sungbin exits the car once he’s collected his phone, slams the door shut, and loops around to grab the gym bag in which he keeps towels, slippers, and what he’s pretty sure is a half-empty water bottle just in case. “i’m coming, i’m coming.” mun’s basically vibrating where he’s waiting, so sungbin juggles the items in his hands until he’s locked up the car and slug the bag over his shoulder. it’s moments later that he takes mun’s hand and links their fingers.

“i don’t need pics, but i’ll take yours.” at this point, years into whatever they have, he’s gotten pretty good at telling what mun wants from him, and which pictures are likely to make the cut. “we can take something together later. i just want to walk barefoot on the beach.”

“Don’t worry Sungbin, I’m sure it’ll take more than that for me to stop complaining.” Mun can already feel the tension start to dissipate anyway, can feel Sungbin’s shoulder start to loosen from the tense pull he’d lifted into earlier. It’s easier for them now, to de-escalate situations like that. Self improvements likely a factor, though sometimes Mun wonders if it has anything to do with the fact that they’re just friends now instead of in a relationship. It’s hard to really set that one up as an experiment though, so it just lives as a curiosity in the back of his mind. “It’s okay, really, it happens.” it’s small, and it hadn’t turned into anything that Mun felt offended by. If it had grown larger in scale then maybe he’d be reacting differently now, but as it stands, it hadn’t imposed on their day, not from Mun’s perspective at least.

“Well this just seems like a cosmic sign that you should learn how to ride a motorbike in case someone threatens to punch me in the face.” he doesn’t actually mean it, but still, “you really do seem like the type that would just somehow know how to ride a motorbike though, really. You could use that in one of those two truths and a lie game.” He large in part decides to ignore Sungbin’s ramblings of one punch and/or kick man because he’s really not the best at following along with Sungbin’s point and he hardly wants to do either.

“I’m not saying you don’t know how, just that my eyeliner is sacred and we must respect her.” he’s teasing along with him now, evident by the smile he holds on his face, even when he’s busy glancing down at the directions on his phone. Ends up grabbing a hand out blindly to tug at Sungbin’s shirt once when he teases him with a babe, and he likely has a lot of things unsaid that Sungbin doesn’t actually want to hear, despite his joke. “It was creepy, and he didn’t even message me back when I told him I’d send him a set of pics if he transferred me ₩500,000. I can’t believe he thought I would just give it up for free after we broke up. What a tool.”

They finally roll to a stop and pry themselves from the seats. Mun straightens, and attempt to unknot the kinks in his spine. Leaves on the sunglasses, the sun’s bright enough outside anyway. “Do you think you’ll ever regret it? Not having as many pictures of things you might want to remember?” it’s part of the reason Mun takes his, though another large part is his own brand of narcissism and attention seeking that comes as a catch-22 packaged to social media. 

“Let’s go find the sand first then,” he pulls at Sungbin’s hand as he lists their way in the direction of the sand strip they’d seen earlier. Had seemed like it was dotted with people, but not as crowded as it could have been. “Is there anything you want to talk about though, like, actually? I feel like I stole all the spotlight in the car.”

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

if sungbin were to start worrying about the originality of the locations for his instagram pictures, he’d probably be growing grey hair. but what mun wants, mun gets – he follows the route he’s showing him on the phone. “we can go there, and then walk over to the beach on foot. shouldn’t be that far.” and it means they’ll avoid the masses of people accumulating near the parking spaces closer to the sand. “get something to eat when we get there-“, and then he interrupts himself because they’ve found the lot, and he eases the car into an unclaimed spot that’s made bigger by the car next to him not parking between the lines. when the motor’s off, he stretches in his seat, undoes his seatbelt. “okay. ready?”

“Hey, Sungbin. It’s really fine, I’m not upset. I can do what I want with my money, when have I ever not?” he asks him, squeezes his fingers back around Sungbin’s hand and looks over at him, contemplates a moment before he leans in closer and settles his chin on Sungbin’s shoulder. It likely won’t last long, with the jerk-bump of the car, or Sungbin’s eventual need to shift gears, but for the moment he means it to be comforting. “I know. But I complain a lot, right? So it’s fine, don’t get in your head about it.” Mun squeezes once again at his hand, rights himself when he starts to feel the uneven slide of Sungbin’s shoulder as he moves to shift gears, pulls his hand back to himself in the process.

“No, but I figured you’d like, steal someone’s motorbike and sprint the rest of the way there if I was under threat of being punched.” a joke meant to try and push Sungbin back into a nicer headspace. “You wouldn’t? Really? You’d just take your car and let it break down in traffic? So I’d get a broken nose? And then need to get plastic surgery? I cannot believe you Sungbin.” he rattles off in increasingly improbable situations, lifts one hand to rub at the tip of his nose for added effect. “I am the opposite of one punch man. I’ll just, like, kick blindly and run.” that sounds easier with a smaller chance of making his hand hurt when he has to play a guitar later in the night. 

“It’s okay, I have some at my place. I’ll let you use it as long as you’re careful.” Mostly because it’s a really nice brand he’d managed to snag on sale. “I want to be on top of your everything.” Minsung pauses near immediately after he says it, nudges an elbow into Sungbin’s side before he has time to laugh and make a joke about it. “Shut up, you understand.” taps into his phone to find the best route, even as they talk. “Not sure, I guess it just changes depending on what kind of a mood I’m in.” Minsung admits, which does tend to happen. Will pluck free a memory that seems so nice to look back on when he’s tucked in a bad spot, lonely.

The car rolls to a stop and they both slide out. Sungbin’s cooler is still tucked in the back, but Mun’s not too sure if there’s anything Sungbin feels like he needs to bring, and either way Mun knows he doesn’t want to carry it himself. “Yeah, let’s go, c’mon,” he walks ahead of Sungbin, then spins around to look at him, waits for him to finish locking things up before he reaches out a hand in an invitation for Sungbin to grab. 

“You want any pictures or you just wanna chill?” Mun asks him as they walk, hands swaying loose between them. He doesn’t mind playing photographer if Sungbin wants something, but he doesn’t always want something. “Take one with me at least, I won’t even make you do fifty retakes.” he promises, though whether or not he breaks it could very well be up in the air.

[mvnshine]

sunrise.

cassaps​:

he glances away from the road to check out the street mun’s pointing at. “i’m not sure about swimming, but if you want pics the beach is nicer. for walking, too. but maybe we can make that distance on foot.” it’s not really looking like there’s spots that are going to open up anytime soon, and sungbin will circle the block if he has to, but it’s not like he’d be unhappy if he doesn’t. “how far is that from here, can you check?”

Mun’s a little bit used to the mood swings. He used to get more offended about it all in the past, back when they were dating, when pointless comments would turn into full blown arguments. Not that Mun is often very evenly drawn either, which likely didn’t help once the ball got rolling bigger. But he’s at least managed to mature a bit himself, too. Can easily get worked up or upset or angry, but has made progress in letting it be things he cares about. He doesn’t really care about the issue of shoes, or if Sungbin understands whether or not he needs to break them in, or what time Mun might feel more comfortable doing it. It’s just shoes, Mun’s got many of them, and Sungbin doesn’t care about most, probably hates half and lies about them looking nice. Fits his forearm against the window’s edge and settles his head down against it. Mun often doesn’t enjoy being quiet, but spending enough time around Sungbin has made him realize that if he’s twisted up in annoyance then Mun’s voice is usually gasoline to a flame. 

“It’s fine, I don’t care. You know I’ll buy you dinner whenever, I was just teasing.” Mun chews lightly on his tongue, more for something to occupy his teeth and keep the quiet, slides himself back upright when Sungbin eases back into conversation, hands pressing together in a way that feels like tape to a mood break.  

“My dyed parts are growing out, my hair is definitely not done. I need to figure it out and do something about it this week.” Mun feathers his free hand back through the strands, even if he had been fussing around with it for the same reason earlier. It’ll likely bug him until it’s fully changed now that he’s gotten into his head about it. “It is not, when do I need to punch someone before, like, the twenty minute mark?” Mun asks him, “and anyway, if I were in some high tension moment of punching then I feel like me knowing how to punch won’t help anyone.” Mun predicts he’d either get punched first, go with something dirty, or do his best to slip away. 

Mun taps his fingers against Sungbin’s knuckles as they talk. “Sure, give me eyeliner later.” Mun agrees, because that’s less permanent than hair dye and the idea of Sungbin doing his makeup seems like it could lead to a fun time, even if he isn’t a makeup artist, he is an artist, he doubts it would look terrible. 

He expects it an he doesn’t, that answer and the way he casually sidesteps out of something real. He already feels stupid for half-hoping he would just agree, because it’s not like it really matters much, or changes anything between them if Sungbin were to agree. One of those things that might matter in high school, but beyond it everyone laughs at. “You let me get beat out by a rabbit, so you are absolutely not at the top of my ex food chain now.” Mun is big on an eye for eye trading system. “And anyway, most of them were fine enough. It’s not like anyone ever complained about them much.” Not that he’d ever lasted extremely long with most, but it wasn’t like his friend group had bitched him out much past a few eye rolls if something escalated or turned into drama.

“I guess, rocks are more like...original though, everyone’s posting beach pictures now.” it’s hot enough that everyone’s willing to drag themselves out to the sound, not that Mun is necessarily adverse to following the trends, though he is sometimes expected to sidestep them given the image he’s cultivated. “Not too far, just turn up here...and straight for like...three? Five minutes?” The car rolls along at a slower pace until they find a lot, weather worn but still functioning enough that the lever lifts when they tap at the button, a handful of spaces left for Sungbin to slide his car into before Mun pulls himself free and stretches out stiff joints.