⇢ authors:
illegiblesigns and
mouthwash⇢ fandom: exo
⇢ pairings: various
⇢ 5742 words
⇢ PG-13 (language)
p r o j e c t e x o : chapter nine
Victoria stepped out onto the garden, closing the glass door behind her. It looked different from the week before, she noted. An overwhelming number of blue orchids surrounded her, taking most of the space. She took her cellphone from the pocket, dialing the familiar numbers she just couldn't seem to let go. As she imagined, the call went straight to voicemail.
“Hello,” she started, awkwardly, “it’s been a while. Almost a month.” Memories of their last encounter hit her, and she had to inhale deeply. “I know you said you didn’t want to see me anymore, that we were done but-- I just want to know if you’re fine, if everything is alright. I haven’t heard from you since the accident in the Center. Sehun told me everything. He's fine, by the way. He's so happy here. The other boys too. You did the right thing, Changmin.” She hesitated a little, the words she wanted to say stumbling on her tongue. Victoria swallowed her pride. “Three little words."
Three little words. A joke between the two of them. While Victoria was impatient and wore her heart on her sleeve, Changmin was reserved. A military man who was taught to suppress his emotions from an early age. When Changmin couldn't demonstrate his true feelings, he used the phrase three little words. And Victoria knew exactly what they were.
There's a soft knock on the glass door, Yoona waving from behind it. Victoria hung up just as the other woman began to slide the door open. Victoria turned her face away to wipe a tear from her cheek.
"We're about to start," Yoona said.
Victoria nodded, following her inside. They gathered in the living room, the boys spread all around the floor. She was happy to see them there, faces eager and anticipating their participation.
"Before we talk about Operation Bastille, there are some important issues we need to address," Yunho started, thick rimmed glasses hanging from his nose bridge and eyes down on the old fashioned notebook he always carried around. A black pen in his hand going down a list of scribbles. "There was an attack on Phoebes last night."
There was a collective gasp. Out of all faces, Victoria found Chanyeol's, who looked terrified. "Impossible!" he called.
"Phoebes is just one hour away," Lay said. "How did that even happen?"
"Kronian forces destroyed a secret Athenian weapons warehouse. It was full of deadly chemical weapons," Jessica said, pulling up pictures of the attack on her tablet and projecting them in the center of the room. "This is not gonna be good for BoA re-election."
"This means Hera is vulnerable," Chanyeol stated, eyes almost bulging out of his face.
"Kid, Hera has been vulnerable since this war started. The Athenian media is trying to keep a closed lid on the real situation. Kronos was far more prepared and intelligent from the start. We are losing. Badly." Jessica said.
"At this point, either we surrender or we get slaughtered," Yunho added sullenly.
Silence permeated before Yunho's cell phone beeped. He stood up, excusing himself, before going over to the kitchen to take the call.
"I didn't know things were this bad. I thought the war was only happening by the borders. I never imagined the conflict could be so near," Lay said with a grimace.
Yunho ran back in the room, his face grave. He grabbed his car keys from the coffee table, looking around the room with his brows knitted together.
"You all need to come with me," he said, looking at Yoona, Yuri, Jessica and Kyuhyun. "Victoria, I'll drop you home."
"No way. Someone needs to stay here to keep an eye on them," Victoria replied.
"Kai will watch them," he said, gesturing over to Kai, who nursed a cup of coffee between his hands.
"Why me?" He asked, his face twisted in displeasure.
Yunho searched his pockets for something. He finally pulled a set of keys from one of his pockets, throwing it in Kai's direction.
"Keys to the BMW, just in case. We shouldn't be too long. Zhou Mi called with news."
His words brought different reactions around the room. Kai nodded in acknowledgment while Jessica clapped her hands together excitedly. Yuri played with the ends of her long brown hair, clutching Yoona's arm, a look of apprehension flooding her eyes.
"What's Operation Bastille?" Victoria asked, afraid to know the answer.
"I'll tell you in the car. Come on," Yunho said as he opened the front door.
Victoria took a deep breath, before rising to her feet and following them out.
--
“Oi! Where do you think you’re going?”
They turned around synchronically only to find Kai leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers.
“I’ll just show him around,” Chanyeol answered, and Kai took a drag of his cigarette.
“Whatever, go on with your date,” he said with a smirk and Chanyeol’s ears became bright red, “just come home early or Victoria will kill me.”
“We’ll be back before sundown,” Baekhyun returned cheerfully, seizing Chanyeol by his arm before the boy could start murmuring how it wasn’t a date.
“That guy,” Chanyeol cursed under his breath and Baekhyun smiled a little, the warmth the other boy emanated embracing him like a woolly quilt as they walked through the streets of Corinth. The SkyTrain station was just a few blocks away from Yunho’s house so they arrived there quickly.
“Be close to me, this city is evil,” Chanyeol said as they walked inside the train, sitting on two vacant places. Baekhyun looked through the window while Chanyeol went on and on about how lucky they were to find empty seats.
“This never happens to me, this shit is perpetually packed-“ he kept on speaking, but Baekhyun couldn’t care enough to listen, his mind filled with Hera’s landscape. He watched as the images went by fast before his eyes, the gray atmosphere was replaced by a neighborhood made by small streets and brown bricks.
“This is Corinth’s downtown area,” Chanyeol pointed out, narrowing his eyes towards the train door when people started to come in, filling the whole place. “Fuck, here comes the herd.”
Baekhyun felt a bit claustrophobic when the doors closed, people crowding together.
“Luhan would go crazy in a place like this,” Baekhyun said while Chanyeol made ugly faces towards a woman who bumped into him with her purse. Not that he’s in his right state lately, he thought with sadness, Luhan’s handsome face appearing in his mind. The easy, wrinkly smile was gone now, replaced by an empty, hollow being.
“You shouldn’t worry about him too much,” Chanyeol commenced, practically as if he had read Baekhyun’s thoughts, “my father always used to say his mind was the most volatile. I could see this on my research as well. Just imagine knowing everyone’s secrets, hearing every thought. And his power is pretty unsteady too. You can see it by all the mutations. So, don’t worry, it’s normal for him to be this confused by all that’s happened.”
He looked at Baekhyun with half a smile, and the boy wished to believe in him with all his heart. Luhan meant a lot to him, it didn’t matter if the boy felt the same for him or not. His thoughts were cut off by Chanyeol tapping on his shoulders.
“We’re here!”
They squeezed themselves through the crowd, almost not making it before the door closed. Chanyeol left out heavy curses once they were out of the train, but Baekhyun had other things to care about. In front of his eyes New Rome extended itself, beautiful under the sun light and shining brightly in its white and blue colors. In contrast to Gaza, which had small buildings and narrow streets, New Rome was filled with tall skyscrapers and broad avenues.
“It’s so beautiful,” he murmured to himself and Chanyeol left out a long sigh.
“It’s hard to find it beautiful after learning the lie this place lives on.”
They went on their way, Chanyeol leading Baekhyun through remarkably orderly streets and well dressed people. Suddenly Baekhyun felt awfully aware of his own clothes, wishing that Chanyeol had at least warned him to wear something a little more appropriate.
“I would have liked a warning that you were bringing me to New Rome,” he hissed, making the other shrug.
“I lived here and never cared to dress fancy. In fact,” he stopped by an intersection, a wrinkly elderly man by the door of a bookstore surveying him with a pensive face, “I used to live just a few blocks down from here.”
“Really?” Baekhyun got on the tip of his shoes, looking down the street, seeing a sea of mansions. “You had a fancy life.”
“Had,” Chanyeol emphasized, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but notice a sad glance in his eyes. They crossed the street, strolling towards New Rome's downtown area. It’s been a month since the Lake Flora incident, but they never spoke about what Luhan had blurted out. Even when Chanyeol looked up, eyes red and swollen, all he did was smile and ask if Baekhyun was already sleepy. And he didn't press on the matter, not knowing how Chanyeol would react. A part of him wanted the boy to talk about his problems; however, it was a bridge over a harsh river made of his own memories, which Chanyeol had to cross, or he’d wait forever by the margins, alone.
“Here it is,” the tall boy said as they reached a vast garden, and Baekhyun gasped out loud in an embarrassing way when he noticed where they were. “Great Museum of Athenian History,” Chanyeol announced, opening his arms, “do you like it?”
“Oh my God,” was all Baekhyun could say, his eyes jumping out of their sockets and Chanyeol laughed loudly at him.
“Come on, let’s go,” he reached for Baekhyun’s hands, entwining it with his own, leading him through the garden, and going up the ivory stairs. The main entrance gate was monumental and Baekhyun could see a great number of people inside, so he almost leaped with delight when Chanyeol came back with two tickets. They entered, and Baekhyun began to wander haltingly, mouth wide open, eyes tearing up.
“I don’t know what you’re so emotional about,” Chanyeol said, and Baekhyun elbowed him, not taking his eyes away from the tall ceiling, which was filled with what Baekhyun noticed to be a famous Old World painting called Starry Night Balance.
“I always heard Kim Junsu was an architectural genius, but actually seeing his work is just unbelievable,” he said. Chanyeol looked at him with his mouth filled with cotton candy.
“Junwho?” He mocked, and Baekhyun only shook his head in disapproval.
The Museum was divided into two main expositions: The Old World and The New World, and they headed towards the New World corridor. Baekhyun couldn’t genuinely help himself, the words started to blurt out of him, and he started to talk about wars and periods, explaining to Chanyeol everything he could remember. He talked about The Brave Women, the first ones to rebuild the devastated land as they looked on a big, bronze statue of three women with children in their arms.
“And this is Zhang LiYin,” he pointed out as they reached a statue of a beautiful woman, her hair in a tight bun. She had kind eyes, Baekhyun noticed. “She was our greatest ruler, that’s why we call her-”
“LiYin The Great, who built this city from the ashes of the Nuclear Blast,” Chanyeol continued in a monotonous tone, sticking his tongue at Baekhyun. “I’ve studied Athena’s history too, you know.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird that we only learn Athenian history? All we know about Kronos is that they are evil.” He gesticulated towards a displayed Kronian flag. Baekhyun was always taught that Kronos represented everything Athena was not. Its people weren’t free, and their government performed atrocious crimes. But now, actually living with Kronians made his whole view of the country change, and his late night conversations with Tao only made him even more confused.
He mentioned this to Chanyeol, and the boy pouted a little. “So that’s what you two do while you’re locked at that library,” he said the last word with mock contempt before they both cracked up laughing. Baekhyun felt something warm up inside of him and smiling was inevitable. It has been a month already, he thought in disbelief, and when he looked to Chanyeol he almost didn’t believe they were actually there. Walking together, laughing together, just like a normal coup-
“She resembles Yunho if you look close,” Chanyeol whispered and Baekhyun got cut off from his thoughts, looking at the sculpture in front of him. It was the face of a beautiful woman carved in ivory. Her features were sharp, almost aristocratic, and Baekhyun stopped at the nametag, her name written on it with big, golden letters.
BoA, The Kind.
“Isn’t it funny that they call her ‘The Kind’ when she was responsible for all that happened to you?” Baekhyun felt Chanyeol’s eyes at him, and he knew he wasn’t talking about the president. He’s thinking about his father, he thought. Baekhyun sighed.
“She did some awful things, but, she probably did some good things too, or she wouldn’t receive this title. People aren’t black and white, everyone has evil and good inside of them,” he pointed out, looking a little bit closely at the image, “even your father.”
As soon as the words slipped out he regretted them. He inhaled deeply, an apology already ready on his tongue, when he felt something heavy on his shoulder. Chanyeol was leaning his chin on him, their cheeks brushing against each other, and Baekhyun felt a slight shiver run down his spine.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think she does look like Yunho if you look at her from the right angle.”
Chanyeol chuckled a little, his warm breath smelling like cotton candy. Baekhyun felt those damned butterflies when he felt Chanyeol’s hands against his own, slowly lacing their fingers together.
“Come on,” he said in a quiet voice, “let’s go see the Old World area.”
And Chanyeol led the way again, this time holding Baekhyun right by his side.
--
Taking Chen’s motorcycle was easier than expected, he thought, feeling his leather jacket flick in the wind. Tao needed to get out of that place after Yunho’s words. He was confined in a war he had no interest in fighting, and even worse, stuck on the losing side of the world. He couldn’t help but think that he could be on Kronos right now, with all the honors of a well executed mission.
But of course, Minseok made him stay.
The ashen wasteland stretched out ahead of him and the highway started to show cracks and holes. Once he had read that that area used to be covered with green trees and rivers, but now Tao only saw gravel and sticks. He felt the firm grip of the boy who came together with him loosen up. Just a few minutes ago, Kris was grasping on to him as if his life depended on it, and it kind of really did. Tao wasn’t honestly what you would call a safe driver.
He surveyed the area. They were totally alone, not a single soul around. The gray desert was a horrible, dismal place. He remembered what Baekhyun told him just the other night, that the world once came to have 7 billion people. Now, they barely reached the 500 million mark.
Tao nearly lost control of the motorcycle when half of the weight it was carrying disappeared. He looked up, snorting when he saw the tall figure of Kris flying right above him. Tao smirked.
“Show off,” he muttered, accelerating the bike.
“Are you defying me?” he heard Kris yell and just like that the boy simply sped up, darting in front of him like a bullet. Tao let out a loud laugh.
When he caught up to Kris, he found him sitting on the bench in front of an abandoned house with holes carved on it's wooden structure, and he was amazed that it even stood. The blond boy smiled at him.
“Took you long enough.”
“Shut up.”
He took a seat by Kris' side, both of them with their eyes on the horizon. Hera was in front of them--a tiny, microscopic thing in the distance--with its skyscrapers reaching higher than the clouds. Nothing like Kronos, he thought, with its small buildings and stones.
Kronos was built on stone, while Athena was made of metal, his father used to say to him.
And metal bends.
“So,” Kris started, “what’s Kronos like?”
“It has buildings, and streets. It’s a typical place.”
“Oh,” Kris nodded, and Tao allowed himself to stare at the boy. The other tried desperately to engage in conversation, but Tao was simply not interested. He felt bored, irritated. He wanted to get out of this fucked up country as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to get attached to any of them, to nothing. And Tao knew himself quite well, just a little longer and these people would grow roots in his heart, and he’d be doing the monumental mistake of caring.
“Why did you bring me here?” Kris ask, suddenly, and Tao inhaled deeply.
“You tagged along.”
“You’re interested in me, right?” The other said quite bluntly. Tao stared at him with wide eyes.
“Yeah,” he responded in a hushed voice, and he placed a hand on Kris’ legs, a smile playing on the boy’s lips. “Are you interested in me?”
“I could be,” Kris whispered, before taking Tao’s lips in his own. His kiss was harsh, needy. Tao imposed his own rhythm, placing a hand on Kris’s neck, pulling him closer, sliding his tongue inside the other boy’s mouth, and he could hear Kris let out a small, low whimper.
Fuck, he thought, feeling the Prototype’s hands moving gradually up his leg.
“You know,” he interrupted their kiss, “this-this isn’t something serious.”
Kris appeared lost at first, more intrigued by Tao’s lips than in his words. But then he narrowed his eyes, a puzzled expression flashing in his dark eyes.
“Why would it be?” he asked, and Tao smiled dangerously at him.
The Kronian boy got even closer, his hands reaching Kris’ pants, slowly opening its zipper. Kris leaned against the wall.
“You’re a smart boy, little bird,” he muttered, kneeling down, marveling at how deep Kris’ voice sounded when he moaned.
--
Suho observed as Lay attempted to cook, his brows furrowed in concentration as he read the instructions left by Yoona on how to use the Old World stove. After a couple of tries, he managed to light one of the burners and began to add ingredients meticulously to a saucepan. Lay swore Suho he would be blown away after he tried his meatball spaghetti. It was his mother’s recipe.
“Heard Victoria and Yuri whispering something about throwing a birthday party for you at the Jazz Club,” Suho suddenly remembered. Lay ran his hands through his face with an annoyed look.
“The Kronian troops are knocking on Hera’s door, and they are thinking about parties?” Lay questioned, opening the lid to check on his creation. Abruptly, Lay’s expression changed, as if something had crossed his mind.
“You never told me why you were named Suho,” he said, out of nowhere. His words hit Suho like a slap. Bringing back memories of the first person who had ever cared about him, the woman who one day, decided to give him a name, an identity. He tried not to think about this too much. Her sudden disappearance had brought him a lot of grief.
He struggled to form coherent thoughts as Lay looked at him intensively, waiting for an answer.
“Fine,” Lay said, raising both hands in the air. “Let’s make a deal. If you tell me the reason behind your name, I’ll tell you my real name.”
Suho looked up at him, fingers tapping on the wood surface anxiously. He shook his head and took a deep breath. The prospect of learning more about Lay’s past was his sole motivation for speaking out.
“There was this professor, who taught me in the Center since I was born. Her name was Sunny,” Suho began, the words painfully falling out of his lips. Lay listened with a soft smile. “She named me Suho because-” he paused, the memories were screaming at him. A soft voice encouraging him whenever he stumbled, her cheers whenever he presented her with his skills, and most of all, her empathetic embrace. You’re special, she used to say, never let anyone tell you otherwise.
“Because?” Lay urged, and Suho exhaled loudly before continuing.
“Suho means guardian in Korean, an Old World language. She believed that one day I would be a leader. That I would fight to protect the ones I love. She was mistaken, though. I’m no leader.” Suho glowered, staring at his hands.
“You never know. She could be right. Maybe out here you’ll be a leader,” Lay said, beaming at him. Suho simply shrugged and placed both elbows on the table.
“Your turn,” he announced.
Lay’s dropped his gaze to the tiles on the floor. “It’s Yixing.”
“Yixing,” Suho echoed with a grin. “I like it a lot better than Lay.”
The other laughed. Suho noticed his eyes looked lost, as if the subject had brought remembrances for him too.
“My mother was the last person to call me Yixing.” Lay added, he raised his head to look at Suho, and the corner of his lips curved upward, revealing the tiny dents on his cheeks. A feature Suho had come to adore. “So consider yourself special.”
A peculiar feeling overflowed Suho’s core. His heart fluttered as he repeated the name inside his head. He felt a swift rush of adrenaline, like he had leaped across an abyss, landing without harm on the other side and collecting his trophy.
At this time, Suho realized something. Lay was a mask Yixing held. A cover that was given to him a long time ago and he was compelled to wear. He had to abandon Yixing behind in order to keep moving forward. As much as Lay tried to fight it, Yixing prevailed. In a way, he was also liberated after the escape.
Thank you for letting me in, Suho thought. And for giving me a glimpse of whom you truly are.
--
How was Kyungsoo supposed to sleep when the ceiling of his bedroom was literally vibrating? He flung his sheet to the side, dropped his feet in the cold floor and marched on to solve this enigma.
As Kyungsoo made his up the stifling stairway that led to the kitchen, the noises suddenly started to become clearer. Almost like-
“A movie?” He said to himself, just as he reached the door.
The moment the door opened, his ears flooded with the sound of screams, it sounded like an argument, and it came from the control room upstairs. Kyungsoo then quietly climbed the stairs, trying not to make any noise.
The door of the control room was open. Shadows swayed inside it, lights on and off, and he could confirm his suspicion. Someone was indeed inside, watching some kind of film.
“Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them.”
Kyungsoo peeked inside. He saw a figure laying on its side on the red carpet, one hand dipped in a container of food, and the other supporting the weight of its head. When the scene changed, and light flooded the room, Kyungsoo could see bits of dark skin. It was Kai. Kyungsoo’s breath hitched as he pressed his back to the wall beside the door.
“No. You're not. I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me. Thank you. Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. You've got a way out. Well good luck with that.”
A gunshot emanated from the television’s speakers. Kai huffed audibly inside the room, and Kyungsoo peered inside again. He brushed against the door, making it creak. The noise echoed against the sudden stillness of the motion picture. Kai paused the movie, and rolled on the floor, eyes searching for the reason behind the noise. He caught a glimpse of Kyungsoo trying his best to camouflage behind the door.
“Just come on in,” Kai grumbled, going back to his original position.
Kyungsoo staggered in the doorway for a minute, eyes wide. “I’m sorry-I-”
Kai sat up, patting the space next to him. “Come on, or you’ll miss the best part.”
Kyungsoo’s heart was a drum inside his ribcage, pounding away aimlessly. He wanted to learn more about Kai, and of course, get answers. Why did he have these visions of the boy vanishing before his eyes? How did he get out of the Center? He wished he had Luhan’s power so he could poke around Kai’s head for a bit.
He plopped down next to Kai, who lazily extended to him the bowl that contained the strange food, before pressing play on the remote.
“What-what is this?” Kyungsoo stammered.
“You never had popcorn before?” Kai asked, grabbing a handful of the white small nibbles and shoving them inside his mouth. Kyungsoo mirrored him faithfully and as soon as it reached his tongue, he wanted to spit it out.
“It’s so salty,” he said, his mouth still full as he chewed sluggishly. Kai chuckled, looking thoroughly amused.
Kyungsoo noted how different he looked when he smiled, plump lips curving at the corners, white teeth peeking in between them. His whole face softened, washing the harsh and unfriendly looks he hid behind away. There was more to him than hostile tendencies and scowls.
On the screen, there was a man on a rooftop. Another stared at him from the ground. They exchanged a conversation through a cell phone.
“This phone call, it's... it's my note. That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note.”
“Leave a note when?”
“Goodbye, John.”
“There he goes,” Kai said, biting his bottom lip, watching as the man jumped to his death. “The next scene is quite a tear jerker. I bet you’ll cry. You seem like a crier.”
Kyungsoo watched the scene with a heavy heart. Death didn’t bother him, but this was the first time he had seen someone respond to the demise of a person of importance their life. Even in fiction, it was unnerving.
“This is horrible,” Kyungsoo muttered. Kai looked at him, confused. “He can’t die. What about his friend?”
“People die every day,” Kai’s voice turned dark. “The ones who survive live on.” It seemed like the words he spoke were not his. Like he didn’t believe in them, but maybe if he repeated them enough it would sink into his brain.
Kai pushed his hair back, facing the screen again. For the first time, Kyungsoo noticed Kai’s ear was mangled. His earlobe was missing. Kai thoughtlessly reached for it, stroking the torn flesh. A gesture, Kyungsoo noted, he did a lot.
The movie came to an end with the man talking to his late friend’s gravestone. Kai was right, Kyungsoo did cry. The man gave an emotional speech, begging for it to be trick, and for his friend to return from the dead.
Kyungsoo diverted his attention from the screen to look at Kai again. The boy watched him, pleased as he had won his wager. Kyungsoo rubbed his eyes, holding back a sniffle. He decided to turn the spotlight away from him for a bit.
“What happened to your ear?” He asked, and Kai’s face stiffened.
He reached for the remote, switching the flat screen off and rising to his feet. “Whatever doesn't kill you will leave a scar,” he said, impassive. "You should back to bed."
Kyungsoo frowned, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t I just-”
“Don’t ask questions, okay?” Kai said. “I won’t ask about shit that you went through, and you won’t get into my business. Maybe then we can establish some kind of bond, or whatever it is Yunho wants us all to have.”
He walked towards the doorway as Kyungsoo followed him with his eyes. Hundreds of arguments were on the tip his tongue, but his anxieties glued his lips together, keeping him mute as Kai left the room.
--
It was way past midnight when Sehun heard the sound of his door opening. A familiar shape peered inside the room.
“Are you awake?”
Sehun wondered if he should even dignify the question with an answer. He sat up, resting his back on the wall. With a flicker of his fingers, he sent a calculated puff of air towards the light switch. Brightness engulfed the area revealing Luhan, who stood uncomfortably in front of the door.
“Is this okay?” he asked, closing the door behind him. Back in the Center, Sehun had spent countless nights in Luhan’s room, usually sleeping on the floor. Things were different now.
“Come here,” he invited, extending his arm until Luhan’s hand grasped his.
Luhan perched down next to him, joining their shoulders together. He rested his head on the curve of Sehun’s neck, Luhan’s hot breath on his skin made him shiver.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Luhan spoke softly. “I couldn’t stop thinking.”
Sehun flipped the light switch off again. The light was too revealing, and he craved the comfort of darkness.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sehun inquired in a quiet voice, his eyes getting used to the dimness. Luhan was quiet for a while. The only noise that echoed in the room was the sound of their breathing.
"Not really," Luhan finally returned, veering away from Sehun and letting out a shaky sigh.
“What can I do to help you then?” Sehun asked, a troubled expression flooded his face. He made an effort to hide it, turning away from him, but he knew it was useless. Luhan only had to look inside his mind to see what he felt.
Sehun sensed the boy’s hands against his own, stroking his fingers slowly. Luhan's fingers traveled up Sehun's arm, reaching his shoulder, and at last his jaw. He directed Sehun's head to face him, fingertips airily brushing against his skin. Sehun closed in the gap between them, determining it was futile to hide.
“I don’t know,” Luhan rustled against his mouth. He shut his eyes, taking in a deep breath and drinking in Luhan's smell. He had missed this. Since the episode on Lake Flora, the two of them scarcely talked. They exchanged embarrassed apologies shortly after, but the atmosphere between them changed. Luhan changed. From soft embraces and tender smiles to cold stares and hollow words.
But that wasn’t the Luhan who was in front of him now, leisurely pressing pecks against Sehun's neck, descending to his collarbones. Sehun burrowed his hands into Luhan's hair. Heat flushed his skin. His heart was about to explode. Luhan leaned his ear against Sehun's chest, monitoring the irregular thumping inside his ribcage.
Luhan wrapped his arms around Sehun's torso, fingers clutching tightly to his shirt. "Help me stop thinking," he pleaded.
Sehun's toes curled as Luhan tugged on the bottom of his shirt, hands fretfully discovering the flesh underneath it. His thighs were on either side of Sehun, as the elder left a path of timid kisses up his stomach. Before Sehun knew, his shirt was already on the carpet. Luhan looked up at him, his eyes wary.
"I-Is this okay?" He spluttered, drawing his hands away. Sehun sat up, joining their foreheads together. Luhan's eyes flutter closed as Sehun lured him in, lips moving wildly after being deprived of each other for so long.
Sehun craved more. He held Luhan by the shoulder, pinning him down the mattress. Luhan rested his hands on Sehun’s hips and bit his lower lip as Sehun leaned down, leaving damp kisses on Luhan’s neck.
Something crossed Sehun’s mind. A line of doubtful reflections and anxiety filled deliberations with himself. It paralyzed him. What am I doing?
Luhan seized his hands forcibly, bringing Sehun back to reality. Luhan pulled his shirt over his head, revealing soft, pale flesh. Sehun felt something bubble in the pit of his stomach, and the feeling spread all over his body.
“No thinking,” Luhan murmured threateningly, clutching Sehun’s jaw and yanking him back into another touch of lips that screamed of need.
What ensued next became a blur. Fabric being urgently removed from their bodies, blazing skin against skin, and a symphony of shallow breaths. Hands and lips examined every part of each other’s body. Sehun made sure of that. Registering each and every pore in his mind. Memorizing the way Luhan’s chest expanded against his, and the sound of his moans in the darkness. He designed a unique file in his brain to retain all the cherished, newly acquired facts.
Sehun wrote their history on Luhan's skin with his lips.
It was nothing like he imagined. Nothing like the daydreams he had back in the Center. It was all tactless touches and quivering breaths. Luhan left scratches down his back. The red marks ached, but he welcomed them, together with every embrace, every touch.
Sehun crumpled next to Luhan, panting, his forehead covered by a layer of sweat. He coiled to Luhan’s side, the elder pulling him close. This was the happiest Sehun had ever been his entire life. No other moment could compare to this. Bliss invaded his body like a drug, wriggling through his veins and clouding his judgments.
Luhan’s heartbeat lulled him into a serene slumber.
When the sunrise crawled inside the room, Sehun opened his eyes sluggishly. He felt cold, and stretched his arm, looking for the one who had warmed his bare body throughout the night.
His fingers reached nothing.
Sehun shot up, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Luhan. In his place, he found a piece of paper on top of the pillow, words jotted in Luhan’s elegant penmanship.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t made for this. You were always so much braver than I ever was. I’m going back to where I know I belong. I hope you forgive me.”
⇢ next:
chapter ten ________________________________________________________________________________________________________
a/n: hello everyone, long time no see :3 i think this is the first time in a looooong while, fernanda and i didn't got stuck and finished the chapter last minute kfkbnkn. i hope everything is ok with it ;-;. we hope you guys enjoyed the tiny bit of athenian history we casually sneaked in. we actually a document with four pages filled with athena's history but we didn't want to bore you guys lol. ANYWAY, we hope no one tries to kill us after this chap. tbqh writing this chapter was so weird when we know all the things that are about to happen, hoho
SO, let me convey my thanks to our beautiful amazing fast beta,
hyuklou, who is simply amazing for helping us out. sorry for sending this always at last minute lol you're too sweet for not sending me an hatemail complaining about all my grammas mistakes ;-; thanks a lot to
hoooshi, who helps us out with her opinions, like telling us it needs more taoris. and ofc, thanks a lot to everyone who reads this fic, and gives us nice feedback - be it through here, or on tumblr. you guys give us strenght to go through our real lives and write this fic even though we're so full of stuff to do. you're all amazing <3