As with many of the more ridiculous incidents in Sunggyu’s life, he ends up taking pilates lessons for extremely silly and fairly petty reasons. In this case, he blames Sungyeol for planting the idea in his head, because he refuses to acknowledge the fact that he totally dug his own grave.
“Myungsoo is going to take a three-month pilates thing,” Sungyeol tells him one afternoon, while he does that annoying thing where he shows up at the apartment and hangs around all day, doing absolutely nothing and eating all their snacks.
“You’re not going to join him? You could use a new hobby, you know,” Sunggyu says as he slices pieces of cake for them to eat.
Sungyeol snorts. “You couldn’t pay me to do move than I absolutely have to. Do you really think I’d give somebody money to teach me to do physical activity better?”
“But it’s pilates - I mean, how hard could that be?” Sunggyu asks, passing Sungyeol one of the slices, along with a fork. “It’s kind of like yoga, isn’t it? And yoga’s supposed to be relaxing, or whatever.” To be honest, though he’s not really sure about that, because he doesn’t know anything about yoga except that it is absurdly popular among middle-aged women.
“Why don’t you try it, then? You could sign up and do it with Myungsoo,” Sungyeol suggests, rather facetiously.
Sunggyu asks, indignant, “What, you think I couldn’t do it or something?”
“Oh my god, hyung, I wasn’t serious,” Sungyeol says, and does his best to stifle a laugh as he takes a bite of cake.
“Why, what’s wrong with me doing pilates?”
“Well, it doesn’t really...” Sungyeol trails off, obviously hesitating to say the words that are at the tip of his tongue. Considering how little he filters what comes out of his mouth, the fact that he isn’t sure whether he should say what’s on his mind speaks bounds to what he’s probably thinking. “It doesn’t really fit with your image. You know what I mean?”
“I do not,” Sunggyu insists, even as he’s cutting his slice of cake into smaller pieces with his fork.
From his room, Sungjong calls, “He means you’re out of shape and eat like crap, hyung!”
“Nobody asked you!” Sunggyu yells back, and turns back to glare at Sungyeol as hard as he can. “That’s not what you mean, is it?”
“Uh,” says Sungyeol, and tries very hard to look at everywhere but at Sunggyu. “Well...”
The damage is already done to Sunggyu’s pride. “I can so do pilates,” he declares, setting his fork down with more force than absolutely necessary. “Pilates? No problem. Challenge accepted.”
So that evening, Sunggyu signs himself up for pilates lessons. The online website for the class encourages its students to lead a well-balanced diet as a part of an active lifestyle, so in the spirit of newfound healthy living, he spends the rest of the night purging the kitchen of everything unhealthy (“Goodbye, delicious cake,” he says mournfully, sighing as he dumps half of his uneaten confectionary into the trash can) - it’s only after all is said and done that he realizes that the only things left in the apartment left to eat are bananas, eggs, and olive oil, and that Sungjong may have had a point about him eating like crap, and also that he has to show up for pilates three times a week for twelve whole weeks.
“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Sunggyu says to himself as he writes up a new grocery list, even though he knows that these are the kinds of phrases that go in the book of Famous Last Words.
Monday afternoon comes, and Sunggyu is about to collapse on the couch and spend some quality time with his dramas when his roommate Hoya (who had decided to tag along with him on his pilates adventures when he’d heard about them, grinning and saying, “This sounds like great blackmail material - how could I pass that up?”) tosses a gym bag at him and says, “Did you forget about pilates already? It hasn’t even started yet, you know. If you quit before it even begins, Sungjong will make fun of you for months.”
“Oh,” Sunggyu says, and stares forlornly at the television. Another time, he mentally promises it, and gets up to change into shorts and a loose t-shirt, throwing sweats and a water bottle into his bag. He walks over with Hoya to the bus stop, where they ride a bus downtown to a tiny, second-floor studio. It’s tiny but it’s decorated brightly, and two of the walls are lined with mirrors so that it looks bigger than it actually is.
They’re among the last to arrive, judging by the number of people who are already there, and Sunggyu has only just spread out his mat when the instructor for the class comes in. He’s small, but he has a smile that is almost too wide for his face, and Sunggyu can immediately sense a sunny disposition. “Nice to meet you, everybody,” he says. “My name is Jang Dongwoo, and this is only the second time I’ve taught this class, but I hope I do a good job and all of you have a lot of fun. This is a beginner’s class, and I’m not expecting you guys to have any prior experience, so feel free to stop me for an explanation at any time, alright? Now, let’s get started! Let’s warm up with some stretches, and then move on to bicycle crunches. Start from your arms, and move down from there, okay?”
Everybody starts doing their stretches. Sunggyu is mildly bewildered, because he hasn’t done a warm-up since high school gym, and he barely remembers anything from those classes except that dodgeball brings out all the cutthroat jocks like nothing else, except maybe pretty cheerleaders. He manages to get through without asking any dumb questions by looking around and following what everybody else seems to be doing, which works fine until the bicycle crunches. He half-heartedly attempts to mimic everybody else while feeling extremely ridiculous, and after about thirty seconds he’s prepared to be finished for the day.
“Alright, warm-up over! First we’ll learn about the main pilates teasers,” Dongwoo calls out.
“That was just the warm-up?” Sunggyu asks. He looks up at the clock - only ten minutes out of their hour-long lesson have passed.
Dongwoo has them start with their core first, brightly informing them that the core is the most important muscle group in strength-building. Sunggyu quickly realizes that this means working out their abs, which is unfortunate, because his are more or less nonexistent. He struggles through the first few exercises without totally embarrassing himself, but by the time they get to the marginally more complex maneuvers, he is already exhausted and has no idea what’s going on anymore.
Straining himself just to crane his neck, Sunggyu looks over at Hoya and wheezes, “How do you do this? I’m so confused.”
In stark contrast, Hoya seems to be holding up effortlessly. Sunggyu realizes in retrospect that he should have tried a little harder to stop Hoya from coming along too, because Hoya is actually in shape whereas Sunggyu’s muscle mass can be best described as in permanent hibernation. The chances are Hoya will come out of this with plenty of humiliating stories about Sunggyu, and Sunggyu will come out with absolutely nothing to leverage him with.
“You just have to move your shoulder to your opposite knee,” Hoya replies. “It’s not that bad, hyung. Just hang in there.”
“I’m gonna actually die,” Sunggyu says between breaths. He does not die, though he almost wishes he does before Dongwoo introduces the class to the plank: three seconds in, and Sunggyu can already feel his entire body shuddering with effort.
“Can you feel your spirits rising, guys? The energy in here is great!” Dongwoo calls out as he walks around the room, observing each of them and making little adjustments here or there in posture.
“I can feel my spirit rising and leaving my body completely,” Sunggyu mutters. His legs are shaking, and he swears that he can feel his arms turning into jelly. Next to him, Hoya can’t quite restrain his laughter and his planking position wavers slightly.
Dongwoo is cheerfully oblivious, and continues to shout out encouragement: “Keep your posture straight! Elbows right underneath your shoulders, body flat, parallel to the ground. You’re doing great, guys, just thirty more seconds!”
Thirty seconds have never taken so long to pass before. The very moment that Dongwoo gives them the okay to release their position, Sunggyu collapses onto his stomach. “Good job, everybody!” Dongwoo praises. “Two minute break, and then we’ll move onto the legs, okay?”
“There’s even more?” Sunggyu asks, horrified.
In fact, much to his dismay, there’s a whole forty minutes more.
The next morning, Sunggyu wakes up and can barely remember how he made it back home. He is fairly certain he forcibly blocked the memories, because he can vaguely recall clinging pathetically to Hoya’s shoulder and making Hoya half-drag, half-carry him up the stairs. He stumbles out of bed and nearly collapses on the floor, what with how sore his limbs are. “Hoya, get in here and pick me up! I can’t walk!” he calls out, unwilling to attempt to move his body again.
Instead, though, Sungjong yells back, “Stop saying weird things so loudly, hyung! Our neighbors are going to judge us!”
“Nobody asked you!” he screams. Predictably, Hoya does not come to his rescue, and he is forced to painfully pull himself up into a standing position and tries to not think of how much his legs burn as he walks to the kitchen. When he finally gets there, he searches the cupboards in vain for his favorite cereal, only to remember that he had purged their kitchen of all foods that were not healthy, which includes his colorful, sugary cereal of choice. And, for that matter, most of everything else he enjoys eating.
He sighs heavily, gets out their smallest frying pan - he doesn’t think he can lift anything heavier - and makes himself an omelette for breakfast. He doesn’t put enough salt in and it ends up dreadfully bland. As he sits at the counter and chews at it glumly, he seriously contemplates what direction his life is going in.
By the end of the third week, the shining star of the class has been well-established. His name is Nam Woohyun, he is obscenely well-built, and he flirts with all the girls in the class shamelessly. The only one who can compete with his popularity is Myungsoo, but he is so busy being lost in the routine and out of breath - something Sunggyu can empathize deeply with - that he can’t really be considered a fair contender. Hoya is also liked by the girls, though he doesn’t get as many longing stares as either Woohyun or Myungsoo.
Meanwhile, on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Sunggyu may as well be completely invisible to the entire female population of the class, except for the few who take pity on him and occasionally say an encouraging word to him whenever he looks particularly distressed, or ask him if he’s friends with Hoya or Myungsoo. He is always tempted to spread blatant lies about them when it is the latter case, but restrains himself to Doing the Right Thing and telling them that yes, he is their friend, but no, he cannot introduce them.
To make things even worse, Woohyun is also very good at pilates. While Sunggyu is all shaking limbs and unattractive sweatiness, Woohyun seems to glide through the workouts with ease, and never misses an opportunity to show off his muscle definition, which Sunggyu bitterly admitsis something actually worth showing off. Dongwoo rarely has anything to say about Woohyun’s form except for maybe the most minute of corrections, but he spends a minimum of ten out of every sixty minute class attempting to coax the right positions out of Sunggyu’s uncooperative body. Considering they have almost thirty people in the class, even Sunggyu has to admit that those statistics are pretty pathetic.
To make himself feel better, he regularly complains about Nam Woohyun’s existence, not because Woohyun has anything to slight him but because putting other people down is the easiest way for Sunggyu to feel better about himself. He is fairly certain that makes him a bad person, but when his whole body is so sore that even sitting down is painful, he cannot quite bring himself to care.
“That Woohyun guy really pisses me off,” Sunggyu grumbles for what might literally be the hundredth time as they ride the bus back to their apartment after a Friday afternoon at the pilates studio. “Seriously, why is he so good at pilates? Is this really only his first time? If it’s not his first time then that’s just not fair, how can we be expected to compete with that? This is a beginner’s class, after all, all of us should be beginners. And just look at him, he’s already in shape, he doesn’t need to get in better shape. He’s probably one of those guys who goes to the gym for fun. I don’t understand that.”
“Sunggyu hyung,” Hoya says thoughtfully, “you have a serious hateboner for Nam Woohyun. Did you know that?”
The lady sitting in front of them turns and gives them a scandalized look. “I would toss you off this bus but I can’t move my arms right now,” Sunggyu announces. Hoya laughs, and Sunggyu resists the urge to grind his elbow into the flesh between Hoya’s ribs. He’s pretty sure it would agitate his arm muscles more than it would hurt Hoya.
Six weeks in, and Sunggyu could swear that every lesson gets even worse than the one before it. “I think I’m going to shrivel up and die,” he bemoans to Sungyeol over the phone as he nibbles on raw baby carrots for a snack. “And also, eating healthy sucks.”
Sungyeol laughs. “If it makes you feel better, Myungsoo’s been complaining about the exact same stuff too. He keeps being, like, it’s been a month and a half and I still have no idea what he wants from us when he tells us to do a teaser.”
“Myungsoo understands my agony,” Sunggyu says, because he doesn’t know either, and only manages to pretend like he does by watching the row in front of them and attempting to mimic them as best as possible.
“I think he feels bad for you. He mentioned once that the only one who looks even more out of it than he is is you, and then he said he didn’t even think that was possible until he looked over and saw your face one day.”
At this point, Sunggyu would normally want to punch Sungyeol or Myungsoo - preferably both - but he is so tired that even threatening people with future bodily pain seems like too much work. Instead, he munches at his carrots angrily and says, "I don’t really want to talk about it.” He must sound really depressed, because Sungyeol actually feels bad enough to start talk about something else, and clumsily attempts to change the subject.
“So, did you watch the latest episode of that new drama, hyung?” Sungyeol asks.
“I have not,” Sunggyu says, trying his best to keep his tone even, “because I was at pilates.”
“Oh,” says Sungyeol. “Well. I don’t know what to say, then, seriously.”
“I blame you for all of this,” Sunggyu blithely informs him, and hangs up.
In the middle of the second month, Sunggyu decides that he is tired of eating his own tasteless cooking supplemented with Clif Bars, raw vegetables, and fruit, so he embarks on a personal quest to better his culinary skills, mostly by watching Internet tutorials. He exercises a great deal of self-control by scrolling past the videos that show sinfully delicious-looking things like triple-layer fudge brownies or red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing and only watches ones that are preceded with phrases like “healthy”, “low sodium,” and “high protein.” Most of the time he’s pretty sure they are speaking in a completely different language than Korean, though, because they keep saying things like “julienne” and “brunoise,” and he’s not really sure what the difference between stir-frying or sauteing is.
“Hyung, what are you doing?” Sungjong asks when he passes through their kitchen only to find Sunggyu with recipes taped to every free surface.
“I’m cooking,” he says. “Obviously.”
Sungjong raises an eyebrow. “Cooking paper?” he replies wryly.
“It’s a process, okay. You can’t rush this kind of thing,” Sunggyu says.
“Well, at least you’re trying,” Sungjong says, and shrugs. “Whenever you cook dinner, it always turns out ridiculously bland.”
Sunggyu quite agrees, though he doesn’t admit it. And, besides, Sungjong has it easier - he always douses his food with Sriracha to add flavor, but Sunggyu’s tolerance for hot sauce is far lower. Not to mention the fact that Sungjong doesn’t even try to cook dinner. “I don’t like you,” Sunggyu informs him, but Sungjong just snorts, smiles, and pats him on the back, because for all Sunggyu complains about his roommates he has a not-so-secret soft spot for them the size of a minor celestial body.
“I hope things go well, Sunggyu hyung. For all of our sakes, really,” Sungjong says, with exaggerated dramatism, before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and retreating back to his room.
“Nobody asked you!” Sunggyu calls after him, but Sungjong pretends like he doesn’t hear.
In the course of his kitchen experiments, Sunggyu ends up spilling a bottle of extra virgin olive oil (several hours spent googling recipes that all seem to call for it, and he still doesn’t know what makes it “extra virgin”, nor does he think he wants to know), almost burns a few vegetables to a crisp, and accidentally lets the pot boil over at least three times, but by the end of the afternoon, he manages to make a saute of spinach with ginger that actually tastes pretty good. He decides to call that his victory, except that after he finishes cleaning up the kitchen - a monumental task - and serving it up on a plate for dinner later, he falls asleep on the couch and wakes up three hours later to find that Hoya and Sungjong have already eaten all of it.
“Good job, hyung,” Hoya says, giving him a thumbs-up. “The dinner you cooked actually tasted good tonight.”
Sunggyu stares despondently at the dishes in the sink. “That was my dinner too, you know,” he says, and he can’t decide whether to be depressed or outraged.
Hoya blinks a few times. “It was?” he says, and there’s a pause before he goes on. “But, you know, hyung - it honestly was really good. Even Sungjong complimented you on it.” And then he smiles the smile he always uses on middle-aged female store clerks when he’s attempting to bargain a price down, which is also the same one he uses to charm his friends’ parents and worm his way out of trouble. Over the years, Sunggyu has become very well-acquainted with that smile and is utterly immune to its effects.
However, he is not immune to hearing praise, and even if he suspects Hoya is playing it up just a tad, he lets himself be mollified. “Just don’t do it again,” he says wearily, attempting to ignore his growling stomach. He must sound particularly despondent, because Hoya gets up to offer him a banana and a protein bar. He doesn’t quite have the heart to be upset at eating exactly the meal he was attempting to avoid, but mostly the only reason that he doesn’t angrily throw fruit at Hoya because he’s too hungry to.
The worst thing about pilates is this: the moment that Sunggyu finally thinks he’s starting to get the hang of how he’s supposed to be contorting his body, Dongwoo claps his hands and enthusiastically announces that they will be moving on to something brand new. The process repeats itself over and over again, to the point where he has to wonder whether Dongwoo is tracking the progress of the class based on its weakest link (i.e., him) and only moves forward once Sunggyu has achieved baseline competence.
The second-worst thing about pilates is that Dongwoo is too nice, and while Sunggyu can certainly appreciate his kind spirit, it makes him feel very bad for thinking sarcastic comments whenever Dongwoo offers them encouragement. Oftentimes, Dongwoo attempts to cheer them on them with pithy sayings like, “A body in motion stays in motion!” or “The heaviness in your muscles isn’t them getting more tired, it’s the feeling of you getting stronger!” but all Sunggyu can think at times like that is, “Tell that to my legs, because I’m moving them but they just want to stay on the ground and never move ever again.” Damn you, he wants to tell him, why can’t you be a jerk so that I don’t have to feel guilty for thinking terrible things about the things you say all the time.
The third-worst thing is Nam Woohyun, which, in Sunggyu’s opinion, requires no explanation. The fifth is that Hoya and Myungsoo are there to witness his ineptness, because there is nothing that can destroy your ego so thoroughly than making an idiot of yourself in front of your friends on a regular basis. The sixth is that he had to pay for it. The seventh through thirty-fifth reasons are the other twenty-nine people in the course, all of whom are better than him.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure you’re not the worst one in the class anymore,” Hoya says. “I think that you’re probably beating out that one sixty-year-old lady at this point.”
He adds on a thirty-sixth reason: it gives Hoya a lot of ammunition to sass at him.
Two weeks left in pilates, and Sunggyu has finally reached the point where he no longer feels sore. “I have achieved pain nirvana,” he says to Hoya and Sungjong over dinner, which is stir-fried cabbage and mushrooms with white rice - he has also finally reached the point where he can consistently cook a healthy meal that isn’t completely flavorless, much to the happiness of his roommates.
They exchange looks, and Sungjong says, “Hyung, I’m pretty sure that’s just the feeling of actually being in shape.”
“Oh,” says Sunggyu. He stares at his bowl of rice blankly for a few moments, considering this idea carefully. “It’s not really all it’s cracked up to be, is it?”
Hoya shrugs. “Well, nowadays you don’t get out of breath climbing up more than three flights of stairs.”
“Or complain about carrying the groceries home,” Sungjong adds.
“Or call me when you’re having trouble opening jars.”
“And you even went on a run that one time. Instead of watching TV. Voluntarily.”
“And Dongwoo ssam even said that you’re getting a lot better, he barely even had to correct you in the last lesson,” Hoya says.
Sunggyu puts his chopsticks down and gives them the best side-eye he can manage. “Are you guys trying to encourage me or make fun of me?” he asks.
“Encouraging you, obviously,” Sungjong answers, at the exact moment that Hoya replies, “I never pass up an opportunity to make fun of you, hyung.”
Sunggyu isn’t sure whether or not to be flattered, so he decides to err on the side that lets him feel better about himself.
At the end of their three months of lessons together, Dongwoo holds an awards ceremony. It is the same kind of awards ceremony that is common in elementary schools, the type where each person gets something simply for showing up, except these are pilates themed. The very first distinction goes to Hoya, who receives the award for the participant with the best attitude. Hoya accepts the ribbon with a grin and says, “I’d like to give a shout out to my roommate, Kim Sunggyu. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here right now, and I would have missed out on twelve weeks of quality entertainme - I mean, fitness.”
“That’s so nice!” Dongwoo exclaims, and beams. They all clap, except for Sunggyu, who has to restrain himself from flipping Hoya the bird.
The next few awards are for things like “the most flexible,” “the person who can do the longest plank,” and “best posture.” Woohyun gets the award for “all-around ability,” which makes Sunggyu scowl and feel just a tiny bit jealous.
One by one, everybody gets an award until it is only Sunggyu left. This is practically my worst nightmare come to life, he thinks to himself, mildly horrified. He is fairly certain that Dongwoo could not have forgotten about him, because Dongwoo spends so much time in every lesson trying to help him, and he doesn’t think Dongwoo is cruel enough to passive-aggressively show his annoyance at how terrible Sunggyu is by failing to acknowledge him and only him. Still, he can’t help but be paranoid, because passive-aggressively showing his annoyance by failing to acknowledge a person in front of a group is exactly the kind of thing that he might consider doing, except that his conscious would probably stop him from actually going through with it.
But then, Dongwoo pulls out one last ribbon and announces, “And last but not least, an award for Kim Sunggyu! This award is for the most improved student. Congratulations, great job!” He hands Sunggyu a ribbon and grins as they shake hands. Sunggyu tries very hard to control his smile, but he ends up grinning so widely his mouth starts to hurt a little at the corners.
“Thanks,” he says as he accepts the award. “Uh - yeah, wow. I’m... thank you.” He pauses and attempts to regain some coherency. “Thank you for teaching us,” Sunggyu says, and is almost shocked at how honest he is when he says it. “You did a great job. I wouldn’t have made it through without you.”
Dongwoo’s eyes nearly disappear with how much he’s smiling. “Oh, no, it was my pleasure! Really, it was. I’ll admit, it was sometimes a... okay, well, it was a challenge more often than not, but you’ve gotten so good at pilates now. And it was all because of your own hard work - so good job! You should be very proud of yourself,” Dongwoo replies brightly.
Sunggyu grins back as he steps back into the group. Dongwoo finishes up by proclaiming, a little tearfully, how proud he is to have been their teacher and his hopes that they will meet again, and then, like that - it’s over. Three months of hell and fitness come to an end, and Sunggyu is surprised to find that he’s almost a little disappointed about it.
Just then, though, somebody taps him on on the shoulder from behind. He turns, and to his even greater surprise, it’s Nam Woohyun. “Good job,” says Woohyun, and smiles. Sunggyu stares in confusion for a few moments, but then he remembers that even though he spent a good few months hating on Woohyun behind his back, Woohyun probably has no idea about any of that, and that the intensity of his gaze right now is probably a little creepy right now.
He clears his throat and attempts to tone down his staring. “Thank you,” he replies, grateful that he has regained the ability to speak without stumbling all over himself. “Good job to you, too.”
“Thanks,” Woohyun replies. “Hey, I was wondering - do you know if you’re going to keep going with pilates? It’d be nice to have a familiar face around, so...”
“You’re not asking me and not Hoya or Myungsoo so that you’ll have somebody to look comparatively impressive next to, are you?” Sunggyu asks before he can put a filter between his brain and mouth.
But Woohyun just laughs and smirks. “Well, that might be part of the reason,” he admits. “But everybody can tell that you’ve worked hard, even though you totally suck at pilates, and I can respect that. I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more.”
“This is a really weird conversation,” Sunggyu says, because he can’t think of anything else to say. “Next you’re going to ask me for my number and then I’m going to wonder if this is a dream and pinch myself.”
“Well, since you kindly gave me an opening for it, can I have your number?” Woohyun asks.
Sunggyu pinches himself in the side and winces. Woohyun laughs. Sunggyu sighs and holds his hand out. “Phone,” he says, and keys his number in as quickly as possible when Woohyun puts the phone down into his palm before returning it.
“I’ll text,” Woohyun says, and grins before he turns to leave. “See you around, hopefully.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hoya approaching him with a knowing smirk, but before he can say anything Sunggyu preempts him: “Don’t even start with me,” he tells Hoya. “I know what you’re going to say, and yes, I know. This is the weirdest day ever - I’m actually kind of sad pilates is ending, Nam Woohyun asked me for my number, and I even gave it to him. Seriously, I don’t even know me anymore.”
“I wasn’t even going to say a thing,” Hoya insists.
Sunggyu gives him a Look and Hoya amends himself - “Well, alright, I was only going to say a little bit, okay,” he admits.
There is a pause, and then briskly, Sunggyu says, “Well, let’s hurry up and go home. I want to lie down on the couch and not get up for a week, then call Sungyeol and brag to him.”
“I thought you were sad,” Hoya says, a little amused.
“Yeah, well, I was,” Sunggyu replies. “But then I remembered I hate physical activity, so I stopped. Can you hurry up?”
Hoya laughs and trails after him as they leave together.
“Congratulations on finishing. You are, truly, a strong person, hyung,” Sungjong tells him solemnly, and hands him an apple. “This is a present from you to me, for completing the course. I have to admit that I didn’t think you would.”
Sunggyu tries not to give him the stink eye as he accepts the apple, because Sungjong actually seems to be sincere. “Thank you,” he says, and tries to sound enthusiastic about it.
But then Sungjong breaks into a grin and says in a sing-song, “Just kidding!” and whips out a plate with slice of German chocolate cake with maraschino cherries on top from Sunggyu’s favorite bakery (forbidden grounds ever since he started his new, healthy lifestyle) and Sunggyu nearly cries with joy. He has not eaten processed sugar in weeks and his mouth is practically watering in anticipation.
“Sungjong, you are my favorite and I will never say a bad word to or about you ever again. Bless you, Sungjong, bless you,” he blubbers, maybe a tiny bit incoherent, but that cake is singing the songs of angels to him.
“You’re kind of scaring me, hyung,” Sungjong says. “Just take your cake and eat it and please never use that tone of voice with me ever again.”
fandom: Infinite, Sunggyu-centric (the woogyu is mostly a lie)
summary: For rather silly and petty reasons, Sunggyu takes pilates lessons. Twelve weeks of humiliation, eating like a sad bunny rabbit, and physical agony ensue. This fic also contains the line, “Sunggyu hyung, you have a serious hateboner for Nam Woohyun. Did you know that?”
notes: the reason i wrote this - my friend convinced me to start going to our college’s free weekly pilates lessons in the middle of fall semester. every time i show up, it’s just.... “why... am i here again....... (；▽；)”. this fic is a reflection of that agony, but is definitely not a dig against pilates itself, bc i actually do enjoy it, just not the crippling soreness in the morning afterwards Q___Q
please don’t take anything in this fic seriously hahaha it’s just 5k of me being silly and pointless