lirazel: ([kpop] succeed)
[personal profile] lirazel
Title: Celestial Mechanics
Chapter: 24 of 25
Fandom: Kpop: Infinite
Characters/Pairings: Hoya/Myungsoo, Hoya/Sungjong and Myungsoo/Sungyeol bffery, OT7
Rating: R
Warnings: A/B/O verse, so: dubcon (for both parties) and all that’s associated with the omegaverse
Summary: It was as close to perfect as a plan could be. Which is to say: not quite. Myungsoo had plans and Howon had a dream, but the future is never that simple, no matter how certain it had seemed.


Previous chapter here


A/N: Last full chapter. Just an epilogue after this. Special special special thanks to Eléonore (your name means light and yoooooooou light up my liiiiiiiiiiife!) for basically writing meta that helped me figure out what I needed to accomplish in this chapter. Some of the wording is pretty much straight from her, and I’m unbelievably blessed to have someone care about my fic this much. *kisses*


Myungsoo snuggles closer to his mate, tucking his nose into the curve of Howon’s neck and breathing deep. Howon’s scent is always essentially Howon and alpha, but Myungsoo can pick up subtle shifts depending on Howon’s mood and the circumstances, and he likes the way Howon smells after sex maybe most of all: musky and content. Dongwoo had told him that no one else would be able to notice those small differences, and whenever he remembers that, Myungsoo fills up with warmth. All the nuances of Howon’s scent are his and no one else’s, and they’re his forever. His mouth curves into a smile against Howon’s skin.

“I’m glad we waited to do that,” Howon says, voice still a little gravelly. His hand is splayed out on Myungsoo’s back, holding Myungsoo close to him, and Myungsoo can feel the vibrations in Howon’s chest as he speaks.

“Really?” He had thought that Howon was ready for them to have sex—real penetration, which Myungsoo can’t help but still think of as “real sex” even though he knows all the other things they’ve done are just as real—all along. He had thought that they were waiting for him.


Myungsoo considers this, trying to work it out in his mind. He can’t quite do it. “’ve had sex before, right? With Hyorin?” And maybe with others, Myungsoo doesn’t know. He isn’t upset at the thought of Howon having sex with other people—they didn’t even know each other back then, and Howon has made it more than clear that Myungsoo doesn’t suffer in comparison to any others he might have experienced—but it doesn’t make sense to him that Howon would sleep with someone he wasn’t in love with with no hesitation but want to wait with Myungsoo.

“Yeah, but…” Howon trails off, and Myungsoo knows him well enough to know that he’s trying to figure out how to put into words something he thought he’d never need to verbalize. “Sex can be for different reasons, right?”

Well, not so much for Myungsoo. Other than the initial mating, which he hadn’t had any choice in, sex to him is pretty much only for making love. But he knows other people aren’t like him. Other people do it just for fun or because they feel like they need to. For revenge or money or because they’re bored. Because they feel like they should or they want to make the other person happy. All sorts of reasons. “Yeah.”

“With Hyorin, it was just because it felt good. I liked her—I still like her. She’s great.” It’s a testament to how much the bond has settled that Myungsoo doesn’t feel even a pang of jealousy at Howon’s words. Howon loves him and had pretty much said it in front of a group of strangers and has done a million little things over the past months to prove it. Myungsoo has no reason to feel insecure. “But it was...a fun thing. It wasn’t only physical, because we were friends, but it wasn’t anything deep, either.”

Myungsoo’s chin bumps against the slope of Howon’s shoulder. “Mm-hm.”

“That’s not the way it is with you.”

Myungsoo knows. But he can still feel his cheeks heat up a little at the words—not in embarrassment, but because of how happy it makes him to hear Howon say that.

“With us, it would have hurt you if it was anything less than…this,” Howon says, and Myungsoo can feel the sweep of that last word taking in what they just did, what they are doing now. The intimacy of peeling each other’s clothes off and the heated, unrushed foreplay and Howon using almost too much lube out of fear of hurting Myungsoo and the weird way it had felt to have Howon’s fingers entering him in ways nothing else ever had and the way that weirdness intensified when Howon slid in and the strain on his face above Myungsoo’s and how gentle he’d been and then how it had felt good—so good—and how easy it was to lose himself in Howon.

Myungsoo hadn’t anticipated having sex like that for quite a while, but it had seemed right, to do it now, and it was so different than it had been the first time. No terrifying desperation and helplessness, no sharp smell of chemicals and suffocating scent of heat, no fear and guilt roiling in Howon’s eyes or building up in his own chest. Last time, it had been so fast and desperate—and terrifying, afterwards—that everything from Howon first touching him to the moment they both came seemed like one blur of pleasure so intense it barreled straight over the line into painful. It had just been so much.

Today was so much, too, only there was time to breathe and to relish and to notice each sensation as its own kind of pleasure, distinct and sharply outlined. And it had been so easy to feel that Howon really does love him, each touch unmistakable in the feelings behind it.

And now there’s this: Howon letting him cuddle up beside him, Myungsoo’s arm wrapped tight around his waist and Myungsoo’s legs tangled with his, and Myungsoo’s face up against his neck where the smell of Howon is most intense. Howon might not be as physically affectionate as Myungsoo is, but he lets Myungsoo be as demonstrative as he wants to be, and it just makes Myungsoo love him more. Howon doesn’t touch him now because he needs to for the sake of the bond. Howon touches him because he wants to—because he knows Myungsoo needs it just because he’s Myungsoo.

“And if it hurt you,” Howon continues, voice pitched low, “It would have hurt us. And that would hurt me. And you even more.” Howon’s quiet for a moment, his thumb caressing the skin of Myungsoo’s back. “It was right to wait.”

“Yeah,” Myungsoo breathes out against Howon’s skin, and he feels Howon shiver in response. It makes him grin.

They’re quiet for a while, Myungsoo just enjoying the heat and solidity of his mate’s body, lulled by the quiet and the rise and fall of Howon’s chest. Then something Myungsoo had meant to say earlier floats up into his consciousness. “You were really great with the panel.”

Howon lets out a little laugh. “You didn’t even get to watch me, dumbass.”

As ridiculous as it is, Myungsoo likes it when Howon calls him dumbass almost as much as he does when he calls him baby. It just feels comfortable. “No, I mean afterwards, when I was there. Asking them questions and...negotiating.”

“Oh.” Howon is quiet again for a while, then says, “Yeah. I hadn’t anticipated that. I always thought if I had this chance, it would be yes or no, you’re in or you’re not.”

“Take it or leave it,” Myungsoo suggests.

“Right. Exactly. They could have just said no off the bat because of the mating thing.”

“I kept waiting for them to tell you you were crazy and to get out. When you asked about what I would have to do. And whether you could delay being a trainee for a while.”

“Me, too.” Howon’s laugh is edged with incredulity, as though he’s just realizing what had happened in that practice room at the Woollim building. “Wannabe trainees don’t just do that. And if they try, the companies don’t just let them.”

“You aren’t just some wannabe trainee. They wanted you,” Myungsoo says, pride in his mate’s talents curling through his fingers and toes.

“I guess they did.” He still sounds like he doesn’t entirely believe it.

“Now do you see why I keep telling you they’ll definitely make you an offer?”

Another little laugh. “Yeah. I see.”

“And you’ll have another year to keep getting better. When we come back to Seoul, you’ll be able to bargain with them even better.” The thought makes Myungsoo wriggle against Howon with happiness. “You’ll be able to tell them what you’re willing to do.”

Myungsoo can’t see Howon’s face, but he knows his canines are showing in his grin. “Not quite. I’ll have a bit more leverage, but they’re still in charge. I may have more control over myself going in than other trainees, but the company will still have the upper hand. No matter how good the trainee is, they aren’t really in charge of their own careers, not at the beginning.”

“But eventually,” Myungsoo insists. “If you get good enough and big enough—you could break off and start your own company or at least write your own music and do your own choreo and take vacations when you want to.”

“That’s what I’m going to do,” Howon says, and he says it like Myungsoo has been telling him he’s definitely going to be accepted by Woollim. Sure and steady and unwavering. “I’m going to get good enough that I’ll be the one with the upper hand.”

“So you can do things on your terms,” Myungsoo says, and yes, that’s what he wants for Howon—to be so secure in his own position that no one will ever be able to take advantage of him or hurt him or make him do things he isn’t comfortable with.

“Our own terms,” Howon corrects absently, like he doesn’t even realize how much the plural means and how it sends a thrill sparking through Myungsoo. “I hadn’t really thought about it like that before. Idol life is idol life, and you deal with all of it if you want some of it. Package deal. But—”

“But you’re good at negotiating,” Myungsoo finishes, understanding now what’s finally sinking in for Howon. “You didn’t know that before. But now you do.” Myungsoo had been too overwhelmed by emotions in the moment to see it, but it’s clear now: it was sexy, the way Howon had fallen so easily into the negotiations, how he’d risen to the challenge and hadn’t been overawed. Where Myungsoo had been caught up in the idea of Howon’s dreams coming true, Howon had been clear-eyed, and had proved that he could hold his own. Myungsoo’s eyes are beginning to clear, too, and he sees what Howon had felt instinctively in front of that panel, even if he’s only now beginning to understand it: he will have good chances come his way, but he also has to fight for how he wants to work, because people are not going to hand it to him. But the thing is, now Howon knows he can do it. And Myungsoo does, too.

Howon’s right, though: it’ll be years before he has built up the kind of clout that will give him the agency he really wants. But nobody works harder than Howon. He’ll get there. He may have to compromise on the way, but eventually he’ll be able to do it on his—on their terms.

“Yeah, I know what I need to work at now,” Howon says. He nudges Myungsoo with his chin so that Myungsoo raises his head and they can look at each other. “And you—I almost forgot about your meeting with the photography professor. What are you thinking about that?”

Myungsoo bites his lip, considering. “He said I had potential. I thought I did, but it was good to hear.”

“And now?” Howon prompts.

A smile spreads across Myungsoo’s face. “That means I can do it. Wherever Sungyeol and I decide to go to university, I can get in.”

“Don’t you need to start figuring out where that is?”

Myungsoo dismisses that. “Eventually. But just—knowing now. I have a year and we can figure it out and we can go...wherever we want.”

“Wherever your scores are good enough to get in,” Howon corrects, and Myungsoo almost rolls his eyes. How can Howon always be so practical?

“That’s not the point. I mean it is, but later. Right now….” He takes a deep breath, thinking. “Right now, the point is that….” It’s right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t wrap his mind around it, a word that will describe what it is that he now has.

“Right now, the point is that you’re free,” Howon says quietly, and his eyes are so steady and intense. “You don’t have to give up on what you want because you’re the omega. You get to choose.”

Myungsoo flops down on top of Howon, cheek pressing to Howon’s chest as his arms squirm under Howon’s body and wrap tightly around him. How does Howon always understand him? “Yeah,” he whispers. The word burns in his throat, around the edges of his eyes.

“I was never going to make you give everything up. I would never have made you do anything at all.” Howon’s voice is so, so quiet, but Myungsoo can feel it moving through him.

“I know.” He does. He’s known that for a long time. But there’s a difference between knowing and knowing. Knowing that he can take his time, figure out what university, what kind of photography he wants to focus on. Figure out what kind of job he wants after he gets his degree, what kind of person he wants to be. Yeah, there will be limits because by that time Howon will be with a company, so Myungsoo can’t just decide they should move to Prague and take artsy shots of the architecture to sell to tourists on the Charles Bridge. But everyone has limits, everyone has to figure out how to work out their life within those limits. As long as his limits are because of his choices, his and Howon’s, and not because he’s an omega...he can live with them. Whatever life he and Howon have, it will be because they choose it and they work hard to make it real. And that’s all Myungsoo asks for.

He feels Howon press a kiss to the top of his head and rolls his cheek so he can return the favor, kissing Howon’s chest as Howon’s fingers slide into his hair.

“When the company calls you later—” Myungsoo starts, but Howon cuts him off.

“—I’ll tell them what we decided together.”

Together. Myungsoo likes the sound of that. He smiles against Howon’s skin, and he knows even though he can’t see it, that Howon is smiling too.

“So you still don’t know whether they’ve picked you yet?” Woohyun asks, balancing a plate of snacks on top of a bowl of popcorn in one hand while carrying three bottles of beer in the other. “You still don’t know?”

Howon rolls his eyes, extricating a bottle from Woohyun’s grip and hitting it on the side of the coffee table to knock the top off. He wouldn’t do that to any of his friends’ parents’ nice furniture, but here in Sungjong’s spare-bedroom-turned-hangout-for-teenagers, the furniture is beat-up enough that no one cares. After all, they’d basically assembled this room themselves with finds from second-hand stores. It’s pretty much their turf.

“I told you already, I’m still waiting for the call.”

“Well, when are they going to call?” Woohyun demands, squeezing himself in between Howon and Dongwoo on the battered couch as Dongwoo takes the plate so that it doesn’t end up face-down on the floor. “Seems to me like they’re just jerking you around.”

“It’s really not that uncommon for the smaller companies to take a couple of days to talk over potential trainees to figure out how well they’d fit with the company and what it’s trying to do. The big companies can turn away people on gut instinct or take people on for a while that they’re really not sure about and get rid of them later, because they’ll always have loads more talented people coming in to beg them for a job, but the smaller ones have to be a bit more careful.” That’s Yejin, balancing on the arm of the sofa with Dongwoo’s arm looped around her waist.

“Oooh, noona, do you know this from personal experience?” Woohyun demands, batting his lashes at her with an overly interested expression. He’s so melodramatic sometimes. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Yejin rolls her eyes at him. “I’ve read up on the audition process, yeah. I like to sing. I figured at least being knowledgeable about the possibilities might prove useful one day.”

“Amy has an amazing voice,” Dongwoo speaks up, sliding his fingers under the hem of her shirt and beaming up at her adoringly. “She could be a superstar.”

“You are really good, noona,” Howon agrees. “I’m sure you’d go far if you wanted to.”

She flips a hand dismissively. “Not in the cards right now. I’m happy with what I’ve got. Maybe someday.”

“You still haven’t told me when they’re actually going to call you,” Woohyun says, turning his attention back to Howon. “Aren’t you going crazy waiting?”

Myungsoo, who’s sitting between Howon’s legs with his back against the couch, pulls himself away from the conversation he’s been having with Sungyeol, Sungjong, and Minha, also on the floor. Howon’s pretty sure they were discussing how Sungyeol could win Minyoung over without making a huge fool of himself.

“They’re going to offer him a place,” Myungsoo says firmly, just like he’s said it dozens of times since they got back home that morning. He’d said it just like that to his parents, to his brother, to Sungjong when he dropped by, to his mom’s friend who had stopped in to visit, and had even taken the phone from Howon’s hand to repeat it to Howon’s mom. It’s over the top, the way he keeps voicing his absolute faith that Woollim will choose to take Howon on, but it’s also undeniably endearing, and Howon can’t help but ruffle Myungsoo’s hair in affection. Myungsoo tilts his head back to smile up at him, and his grin looks even funnier and more crinkled upside down. There’s nobody cuter on the planet.

“But you’re still planning on turning them down?” Sungjong asks, entering the conversation, too. Minha’s still talking quietly to Sungyeol, saying something that makes him grin and shake his head. Howon’s glad she’s giving Sungyeol advice; he’s clearly more into Minyoung than he wants to admit and Howon really hopes it will work out for him. Sungyeol is occasionally terrifying is his weirdness, and his moans about how he’ll die only have known unrequited love get a bit old, but he’s really a great guy. Weird to think that only a few months ago, Howon didn’t really know him at all. Didn’t know Myungsoo at all.

“More like delaying my acceptance,” Howon answers. “So we can graduate here.”

Woohyun looks very much like he’s going to say something pointed about the lack of guarantee the spot will still be there in a year, but Yejin speaks up before he can. “I’m really glad you figured out a solution that works for you. And hey—a year of time to practice on your dancing and rapping, you’ll be able to blow them away once they do take you on. Maybe they’ll make you leader.”

Howon snorts even as Myungsoo and Dongwoo say at the same time, “Howon would make a great leader!” Sungjong, though, just looks amused. “Do you think Howon-hyung would really want to do that, though?”

“It would take time away from all the time he can dedicate to making himself better,” Sungyeol pipes in, his conversation with Minha apparently through. “Proving that he’s good at everything. There’s no way he’d do that.”

“Well, we’ll see,” Howon says, kicking Sungyeol’s ribs. “I’m not really thinking about that now.”

“It might be better than the other options, though,” Woohyun says, taking a swig of his beer. “What if you got stuck with an asshole in charge?”

At that moment the door pops open, causing everyone (except for Sungjong and Minha, who seem inhumanly immune to such shocks) to jump, and Sunggyu barrels in.

“Hyung!” Dongwoo shouts joyfully in greeting. “I didn’t know you were coming down!”

“Never mind about that,” Sunggyu dismisses, stomping his way over to Howon to glare down at him. “ I can’t believe you didn’t fucking tell me that the company you were trying out for was Woollim.”

Howon looks around at the others, but all of them are still looking up at Sunggyu in surprise. “Uh...the company I tried out for was Woollim?” Howon says, not sure why Sunggyu is fuming like he wants to beat Howon up.

“That’s Nell’s company!” Sunggyu says in a voice somewhere between a wail and a growl. “Nell’s!”

“I...know?” Howon likes Sunggyu, but sometimes he doesn’t understand him at all.

“I could have tried out at Nell’s company if I’d known they were having auditions!”

Oh. Well. But….

“But, hyung, you don’t want to be an idol singer,” Myungsoo says, craning his neck so he can look up at Sunggyu. “And the auditions are for a potential idol group.”

“It’s Nell’s company,” Sunggyu repeats again, and Woohyun, who’s been sniggering under his breath, laughs out loud.

“C’mon, hyung, settle down and sit down,” he says, taking Sunggyu by the hand and trying to lead him to a spot next to Sungjong. But Sunggyu snatches his hand away.

“I’m maddest at you! You were the one who told me Howon was trying out, only you failed to mention the most important part!”

“Hyung, I’m pretty sure the most important part is that Howon was trying out,” Woohyun counters, still looking amused. “You know, pursuing his dream? Working towards his goals?”

Sunggyu’s face twists in chagrin at that. “But…” And then his bottom lip pops out in a pout. He’s definitely not suited to be an idol, musically or in temperament, but he does have the aegyo for it. “But Nell.”

Laughing again—actually, most everyone in the room is laughing or shaking their head now—Woohyun again takes Sunggyu’s hand and this time manages to get him to sit down. “Hyung, you know good and well that you don’t want to be an idol. Keep working with your rock band and get good enough that Woollim notices you for that.”

“Thank God nobody told him,” Sungyeol stage whispers. “Can you imagine if he got accepted? Kim Jongwan would have to take out a restraining order within days!”

“Ya!” Sunggyu shouts, raising his fist, but Myungsoo shoots forward from between Howon’s legs and wraps his arms around Sunggyu in a hug.

“Hyung! Howon did really well and they’re going to call him and offer him a spot any time! We’re all here waiting!”

Sunggyu keeps his dirty look fixed on Sungyeol for another minute, then turns his attention to Myungsoo, patting him on the head. “That’s great, Myungsoo.” He looks up at Howon. “You haven’t heard from them yet?”

Howon picks up his phone from where it’s balanced on his knee, wiggling it to show the black screen before putting it back down. “Still waiting.”

“You nervous?” Sunggyu has tried out for various things before, including to be the vocalist of the band he’s with now. He asks the question in a way that implies he knows exactly what Howon’s going through.

“They’re definitely going to accept him, hyung,” Myungsoo says, finally releasing Sunggyu from his typically-Myungsoo-enthusiastic hug and sitting back, warm and solid between Howon’s legs. Howon feels Myungsoo’s hand sneaking up to hold onto a fold in his jeans.

“Not really,” Howon answers, fingers moving absently through Myungsoo’s hair in a way he knows his mate likes. “I thought I would be, but….” He shrugs.

“So you’re not just playing it cool so we won’t know you’re freaking out inside?” Minha asks playfully, leaning against Sungjong’s back.

“I’m really not nervous,” Howon says. “I don’t know why, but I feel like if they say no, it’ll be okay.” He doesn’t mention that the way the panel had been willing to negotiate with him makes him pretty damn sure he’ll get the offer. Myungsoo is vocally confident enough for the both of them. “I’ll just work harder for another year and try again with them. And if they still say no, I’ll go to every company in Seoul till one accepts me. I don’t know why I’m suddenly fine with that.”

Except he sort of does know why. It’s because of Myungsoo, nestled in between his legs, glowing with his unwavering faith in Howon. Because of the camera Myungsoo had stored upstairs in Sungjong’s bedroom so that it wouldn’t get hurt in the crush of all their friends into one small room. Because of those friends, together and all around him, scents of alpha and omega and themselves mingling till it’s impossible to distinguish one from the other, the people who had gotten him and Myungsoo through the first devastating panic after the mating and who have never treated each other any differently according to mating roles. Because of the Kims’ house, smelling of rice and laundry detergent and Myungsoo, and the kindness Myungsoo’s family has shown him. Because of the call with his mom earlier, where she told him she was proud of him and that she was going to be coming to see him at least a couple of times a month because even if Howon and his father don’t need to be part of each other’s lives (“right now,” his mom had said, and Howon heard the hope in that, though he isn’t sure how much he believes it himself. But that’s okay. He has time to figure it out), she’s not giving up her son for anything. Because of the texts from his brothers, half-insult and half-congratulations in that way only brothers can pull off. Because of this town where he taught himself to dance, and Seoul, endless in size and possibility, waiting on the other end of a bus ride.

He has this right now—the friends he chose and the family who chose him, music and dance. His dream, the same one he’s built his life around since he was a little boy, but shifted slightly now, coming into focus in ways that are different than he imagined but more realistic and—somehow—more potentially rewarding. And there’s Myungsoo, too, and his dream, and how it’s become part of Howon’s dream as well, their life together since they mated a long process of figuring out how to graft those dreams together. And now they’ve become one dream, and he and Myungsoo will keep fighting for it. And they’ll do it together.

Dongwoo reaches around Woohyun to elbow Howon in the ribs, jarring him out of his thoughts. “Hey, another year gives us another year to work. I’m going to be teaching classes at the studio above the Chinese restaurant. I’m pretty sure I can get you some time on the schedule to use the space.”

The studio Dongwoo is talking about is nice—clean, modern, well-lit, top-of-the-line flooring and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It would be a nice place to practice. But there’s still the old gym, the sight of Myungsoo sitting on a pile of mats and working on his homework, and Howon knows he won’t want to give that up altogether. It means too much to him.

“Thanks, hyung,” he says, knowing that he’ll definitely get Dongwoo’s help in the future, allowing his friend to push him further than he’s gone before. Dongwoo’s done it before, without asking for anything in return, and he’ll do it again.

“And I’ll help you with singing,” Yejin adds, smiling over at him.

“Yeah, me, too, when I come back home to visit,” Sunggyu chimes in.

Because that’s what they do, his friends. They give, freely, and make his life better.

Fingers squirm against Howon’s knee, and he looks down to find Myungsoo’s hand searching for his. Howon intertwines their fingers, smiling down at Myungsoo when Myungsoo again drops his head back and rests it on the seat of the couch, looking up at him.

“Yeollie and Sungjong and Minha are going to model for me, Howon,” Myungsoo says as Howon’s thumb bumps over the ridges of his knuckles. “I want to work more on figures and faces.”

Howon snorts. “You’re lucky you have friends who look like super models.”

“Right?” Myungsoo’s upside down beam is as cute as his right side up one. It still makes Howon’s chest tighten. “Every picture of Sungjong is perfect anyway. I’ll learn a lot working with them.”

“When you get tired of supermodels and want to work with regular uglies, call me,” Woohyun says, thumping Myungsoo on the shoulder.

“What are you talking about, hyung? You’re handsome!”

“Who would notice, though, underneath all the grease?” Sunggyu asks wryly, which of course makes Woohyun launch himself at him, and the next minute they’re tussling, and Dongwoo is laughing at them and Yejin is laughing because Dongwoo is, and this is the kind of chaos that seems to flare up whenever all of them are together.

“Another year with these losers,” Howon says with a sigh. “I don’t know how I’ll survive.”

“Whatever, hyung, you love it.” Sungjong flips his hair out of his eyes in his superior way, making Minha cover her giggle. “You’re lucky we deign to spend time with you.”

Myungsoo laughs, pressing his face against Howon’s leg and squeezing Howon’s hand. In the bouquet of their friends’ scents, Howon can still pick out Myungsoo’s, warm and comforting and enticing and right. Yeah. He’s lucky. And he knows just how much.

The phone on Howon’s knee rings.


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