Nothing On You
Title: Nothing On You
Pairing: Baekhyun/Kyungsoo
Rating: PG-13
Genre: fluff, canon
Length: 6,000
Summary: Inspired by this. Also, this.
“Well, that was amazing,” Baekhyun says from where he’s standing, leaning up against the wall right outside the studio door. Kyungsoo freezes, surprised to see him. He’d thought the rest of the members were already outside in the vans, waiting to be whisked off to their next interview, their next performance, their next recording session.
“What was?” Kyungsoo asks, as Baekhyun falls into step beside him.
“You and Chanyeol sounded fantastic together,” Baekhyun replies, and the smile on his face is making it difficult for Kyungsoo to tell if he’s joking. “Your English has gotten really good, have you been practicing?”
“Yeah, a little,” Kyungsoo says with a noncommittal shrug, brushing off the crushing weight of hours and hours spent poring over a dictionary, testing out strange-sounding words, trying not to blur his “r”s and “l”s and getting a handle on those ridiculously annoying “th”s. He knows Baekhyun understands when his small smile widens into a grin and he claps Kyungsoo on the back before draping his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders.
“Next time, though, you should try to get the lyrics right,” he says with a bright laugh, and the happiness with which the insult is delivered throws Kyungsoo off-balance in the same way Baekhyun’s always doing. Kyungsoo kind of hates it.
“What are you talking about?” he asks angrily, swiping at Baekhyun’s arm to try to push it off his shoulders. He spent an entire week memorizing those lines, they were perfect.
“You know, that part, how does it go?” Baekhyun sucks in a breath and Kyungsoo knows he’s about to sing the line so his stomach clenches the way it always does when Baekhyun sings. You’d have thought he’d have gotten used to it by now. But there’s always that same feeling, somewhere between jealousy, pride, and admiration, because Baekhyun’s voice always sounds like melted sunshine and Kyungsoo sometimes wishes his did too even if everyone says he’s the better singer.
“If there’s something I’m not doing, girl, I’m trying.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Kyungsoo sniffs as Baekhyun leaps forward and grabs the door handle, body folding into a mocking bow as he ushers Kyungsoo out of the studio.
“No, you said ‘boy,’” Baekhyun insists, threading his arm through Kyungsoo’s as they walk over to the car, where everyone’s waiting for them. Kyungsoo can see Chanyeol face pressed against the window, eyes wide with concern-no doubt because Jongin’s invading his personal space again. “You said, ‘boy, I’m trying.’”
“Whatever,” Kyungsoo mutters, yanking open the car door a bit more forcefully than he meant to and almost smacking Baekhyun in the face.
He’s glad that he’s able to slide into the last open seat-crushed between a snoring Sehun and the door-so that Baekhyun’s forced to ride in the other car. Kyungsoo watches him pull open the door and shove himself into the space between Luhan and Jongdae before the car sputters to life, lumbering off down the quickly darkening street. It’s not that cold but Kyungsoo wishes he had a heavier jacket-he feels like the chill from the window glass is seeping into his bones. He wishes he hadn’t been so confident, hadn’t tried to put more emotion into his singing, tried to make it more real. Mostly he wishes Baekhyun spoke less English.
“Are you all right?” he asks Baekhyun as the other boy stumbles into the kitchen, blearily yanking open the cabinets until he finds a mug for his tea. “You look a little pale.”
“Look, I know you have this weird urge to help people all the time,” Baekhyun says, the sharpness in his voice blurred by sleep. “But I don’t need you whining at me too. I get enough of that from Junmyeon.”
“Sorry,” Kyungsoo murmurs, watching Baekhyun fill his mug with the hot water Kyungsoo had gotten up early to make, eyes tracing over the hollows under Baekhyun’s eyes, the way his thin fingers rub nervously up and down the ceramic handle of his glass. “I’m just asking because it’s going to be hard for us to perform if our lead vocalist can’t sing.”
“I can’t tell if you’re fishing for compliments or just being annoying as fuck,” Baekhyun hisses, grabbing his mug and making as if to leave the room, probably to go back to his bedroom. Kyungsoo tries to sort out the emotions rolling around inside of him-hurt, annoyance, a slight glimmer of that familiar pleasure he feels every time Baekhyun compliments his singing-but it’s impossible and by the time he stops trying Baekhyun has left the room.
“Wow, did you say something rude again?” Jongin asks, slouching into the room and slumping down in the chair next to Kyungsoo. “I honestly think you should look into buying a brain-to-mouth filter, hyung. I bet they sell them in America.”
“Obviously you know nothing about America,” Kyungsoo snorts, shoving Jongin so hard he nearly falls off his chair, but he has to admit that he does feel better afterwards. It’s just too much work to be miserable around Jongin. He’s not like Baekhyun-he’s quiet and hates asking people for help, but when he finally does he can ask without throwing up a wall of sarcastic remarks, without pretending that absolutely nothing is wrong when absolutely everything is wrong. Baekhyun makes everything confusing. Kyungsoo doesn’t like confusing.
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one trying to pretend I don’t have feelings,” Jongin laughs, leaning back and putting his feet up on the table. Kyungsoo quickly slaps them down, ignoring Jongin’s whine of protest.
“I don’t have feelings,” Kyungsoo deadpans as Jongin gives him a look. “They’re too much work. I’m busy, I don’t have time for that kind of thing.”
“Mmhmm, sure,” Jongin drawls annoyingly, and this time when Kyungsoo shoves him he does fall out of his chair, landing hard on the floor with a yelp. “Okay, I take it back, you don’t have any feelings besides psychotic rage.”
“Yeah, yeah, hurry up and eat, we have a photoshoot in an hour,” Kyungsoo laughs, gesturing behind him towards the soup he threw together while he was waiting for the hot water to boil. It was a pleasant surprise to find they actually had some food in the fridge that hadn’t already been devoured.
The door to Baekhyun’s room is closed, but when Sehun walks past Kyungsoo, towel wrapped tightly around his waist, and pushes on the handle, it opens easily and Kyungsoo can almost imagine he sees Baekhyun’s brown hair in the corner, dark against the white walls. But then the door closes again and Kyungsoo is left standing in the hallway, wondering why he stopped at all.
“This is ridiculous,” Baekhyun hisses as they sit side by side, perfectly still, hurried stylists rushing around wielding brushes, eyeliner, and hair gel like the swords Tao insists he knows how to use safely. Surprised at the way all the animosity from the morning seems to have evaporated, Kyungsoo responds with a swift smile and a wry murmur of agreement. Baekhyun, however, seems unsatisfied with his less-than-enthusiastic support.
“Don’t you think so?” he goes on, eyeing himself in the mirror. “I look ridiculous. This hair color does not look good with my skin tone.”
And Kyungsoo personally thinks that Baekhyun’s honey-colored hair goes very well with his skin tone, or maybe it just matches Baekhyun’s bright smile, the way his eyes sparkle under the yellow-white lights, dark eyeliner drawing Kyungsoo in until all he can see is that sparkle.
“I don’t know, it’s not that bad,” he says, and Baekhyun snorts derisively. “At least it’s not red, right?”
“Your hair’s not red,” Baekhyun sniffs, eyeing Kyungsoo’s hair critically, and suddenly Kyungsoo feels extremely self-conscious, very aware that he hasn’t had his makeup done yet and he’s probably sweating because it’s hot in here and he’s still wearing his jacket. “It’s more of an auburn. It’s not bad at all.”
“You look good no matter what they do to your hair,” Kyungsoo says, and then fights the urge to slap a hand over his mouth because that is not what he meant to say at all. At all.
“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere,” Baekhyun laughs, turning back to the mirror as a new flurry of stylists descends, filling up the space between them and blocking him from sight. Kyungsoo is very glad he can attribute the redness of his cheeks to the heat in the room when one woman frowns at him, tilting his head back and asking why he’s so flushed.
“Great, now put your arms around each other,” the photographer shouts from his spot next to his expensive equipment, frowning pensively as he watches the boys in front of him jostle and shove, swishing of fabric on fabric loud even in the busy room. “Just like that.”
Kyungsoo grins, lips twitching upwards in that way he knows makes him look just adorable enough to satisfy them, though he really wants to grimace as the movement crushes him even closer to Baekhyun’s side. He’s surprised Baekhyun hasn’t protested, hasn’t made some snide remark about Kyungsoo being heavy for his size or how Baekhyun would like some room to breathe if Kyungsoo doesn’t mind not hovering for one minute.
“Okay, now something more fun,” the photographer says, waving an arm as if to show them what fun looks like in the space of a gesture. “Come on, move around a little! You’re young, playful, you get all the girls!”
Kyungsoo nearly jumps backwards when he feels Baekhyun’s head settle on his shoulder and his breath huff hotly against his ear.
“Guess that’s less of an incentive for some of us,” he mutters, and Kyungsoo suppresses a shudder.
“What are you talking about?” he snaps, forcing his frown up into something vaguely resembling a tight smile.
“I think they call it a Freudian slip,” Baekhyun mutters, and Kyungsoo wonders how he can possibly be talking when his mouth is set in such a perfect smile, eyes glittering with reflected light, lips bowed perfectly upwards framing his white teeth. He knows it’s not Baekhyun’s real smile, not the same smile he wears when Kyungsoo meets his eyes at a fansign and makes a weird face, not the same smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes, the one that Kyungsoo has seemed to be able to coax out of him less and less often recently.
“Wasn’t Freud that psychoanalyst?” Kyungsoo asks, narrowing his eyes and turning to Baekhyun as the photographer calls a break.
“Good job, who knew you were so smart?” Baekhyun gasps sarcastically, and Kyungsoo’s pleased that now he’s allowed to frown properly.
“I still don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Kyungsoo sniffs, turning away to see where Jongin and Junmyeon have wandered off to. At least with them he can have a conversation without feeling like he’s standing on one foot, trying to pat his head and rub his stomach at the same time.
“Okay, then,” Baekhyun says, throwing up his hands and shaking his head sorrowfully. “Have it your way.”
“What way?” Kyungsoo demands, but Baekhyun is already walking off, slinging an arm around Jongin’s waist and dragging him over to talk to an already blushing Chanyeol.
“You look like someone just told you your cat died,” Junmyeon remarks as he sidles up to where Kyungsoo is standing, and Kyungsoo glares at him.
“I don’t even like cats,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest.
“Yeah, well, Baekhyun does,” Junmyeon says, and Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow even more.
“What does Baekhyun have to do with anything?” he asks, though he can’t stop his eyes from sliding over to where Baekhyun is leaning against Chanyeol’s side, lacing their fingers together for support.
“You know, oddly enough, some things don’t go away the more you ignore them,” Junmyeon says conversationally, and Kyungsoo doesn’t think he can glare any harder so he just looks away, eyes flicking over to the ceiling, the walls, anywhere but Junmyeon and especially anywhere but Baekhyun.
“I don’t ignore things until they go away,” Kyungsoo sniffs, letting Junmyeon put a comforting hand on his shoulder, though he doesn’t need it. “I’m a professional. I just don’t have time for things like that.”
“Don’t have time for feelings?” Junmyeon snorts, and Kyungsoo sighs.
“Why is everyone always saying that?” he asks despairingly, throwing up his hands. “What’s wrong with deciding feelings are too much effort? I have choreography to learn! Lines to practice! Fangirls to impress! I don’t have time.”
“For someone who doesn’t have time for feelings, you’re awfully dramatic,” Junmyeon laughs, and this time Kyungsoo storms off, turning on his heel and heading towards the bathroom. At least no one will bother him in there.
He shuts the door and then simply stands there, forehead resting against the cool wood, thinking about what Baekhyun had said, about slips of the tongue, about Kyungsoo not having enough of an incentive. He hates how observant Baekhyun is. No one else had noticed-not Chanyeol, though that’s not a surprise, not Kris, who supposedly speaks English and should have realized Kyungsoo had said the wrong word. He could always blame it on his poor grasp of all those pesky little nouns that slip out of Kyungsoo’s mind like water through a sieve. But he can’t fool himself, and apparently he can’t fool Baekhyun. Because he was right. Kyungsoo had most definitely not been thinking about a girl.
It’s always been Baekhyun. Always, since he first met him and saw him smile, eyes alight with pure joy at having been chosen, at having been given a chance to live his dream sooner than most people could ever hope to. Because Baekhyun is sturdy and calm when Tao and Chanyeol are hysterical and worried, and Baekhyun is kind and funny when Sehun and Kris are stiff and awkward and never know what to say. Because Kyungsoo thinks he’s the only one who’s seen Baekhyun crumble, that one night when they were up late practicing for their showcase and Baekhyun had just dissolved, slipping through Kyungsoo’s fingers like wet sand. Because Baekhyun always seems so strong and it’s frustrating because what Kyungsoo is best at is building people up, throwing them a rope when they’re too tired or too scared to jump. And, ever since the first and last time he ever saw Baekhyun cry-really cry-Baekhyun has never let Kyungsoo be that person for him.
“Hello? Anyone in here?” Tao’s voice is loud in the small space, and Kyungsoo sighs, turning to the sink and watching the water run down the drain. Tao gives him a strange glance as he opens the door and Kyungsoo wonders what look he must have on his face. As he walks quickly down the hallway, he’s able to school it into something closer to his typically flat expression-the one that lets nothing escape, the one that reveals nothing. Before Baekhyun, Kyungsoo had always been good at revealing nothing.
“Baekhyun!” Chanyeol shouts with glee as Baekhyun opens the door to their room, poking his head in and scanning the inhabitants. Jongin and Chanyeol are curled up on Jongin’s bed, watching some movie on Chanyeol’s laptop, and Jongin manages to give Baekhyun a small smile before pulling Chanyeol down again. From where he’s sitting on his bed poring over more lists of words he ought to remember by now, Kyungsoo studiously ignores him.
“Can I talk to you?” is all Baekhyun says, sly smile on his face, and Kyungsoo looks up, fighting to keep a blush from spreading across his cheeks when he sees that Baekhyun is looking right at him.
“Yeah, sure,” he replies calmly, sliding off the bed and ignoring the way Jongin is wiggling his eyebrows annoyingly at him. So maybe Jongin knows a little more than he should about the way Kyungsoo feels about Baekhyun. So maybe Kyungsoo can’t keep from having feelings all of the time, and when he does finally let them through he needs to tell someone, needs someone else to remind him that he’s not crazy. Kyungsoo always listens and so he always has trouble reminding people that sometimes he needs to talk as well.
Baekhyun leads the way into the kitchen where he leans against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. His hair looks soft and light, like sunshine, and he’s smiling so prettily Kyungsoo almost decides to let down his guard. But then Baekhyun speaks.
“So are you ever going to do anything?” he asks, amusement coloring his voice, and Kyungsoo instantly shuts down, eyes going dark as he sucks all the important parts of himself back inside where they can’t get hurt.
“About what?” he asks, and he thinks he sees Baekhyun’s face fall a little, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light filtering through the small window.
“Look, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says, and this time his voice is softer, all the cocky confidence gone. “I know it’s not exactly a secret. The way I feel about you. But I just need to know how you feel. Don’t pretend you don’t feel anything, we all know that’s a lie, you feel everything too much, that’s your problem.”
“What are you even talking about?” Kyungsoo sighs tiredly, because he knows Baekhyun likes him well enough but he’ll never depend on him, he’ll never need Kyungsoo the way Kyungsoo wants to be needed.
“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun whispers softly, and Kyungsoo can’t suppress a shiver at the way Baekhyun’s tongue curls around the word, cradling it gently in his mouth.
And this time, when Kyungsoo looks up, Baekhyun’s eyes are desperate, his teeth worrying his lower lip, and Kyungsoo doesn’t even have time to respond before Baekhyun is kissing him, swooping down and capturing Kyungsoo’s lips with his own. Kyungsoo is startled and he tenses involuntarily, the warm press of Baekhyun’s body against his own too much and too sudden and too terrifying.
“Oh, god, I’m-” Baekhyun gasps when Kyungsoo remains stiff and unmoving, dropping his hands to his sides and taking a giant step backwards. His eyes are frantic now, flicking back and forth across the small kitchen. “I’m so sorry, I just thought you-but then you never did anything so I was starting to wonder if you didn’t and I’d just imagined it all so I had to-”
“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo says softly, hating himself more with every word that forces its way out from between his lips. “You don’t have to apologize, I understand.”
“Good,” Baekhyun stammers, and now he’s stepping backwards, hands sliding across the backs of chairs, the tabletop, pressing against his jeans-anything to stop them from shaking, to root Baekhyun to the ground as his mind spins. “Look, I’m sorry, I just-can we just pretend this never happened?”
“Sure,” Kyungsoo nods, giving Baekhyun a quick smile that Baekhyun doesn’t return. As he darts out of the doorway, Kyungsoo sees that Baekhyun’s eyes are much too glossy, shining with a thin film of liquid sorrow, and suddenly Kyungsoo’s chest aches like someone’s replaced his heart with a hot stone.
“Could you pass the milk?” Baekhyun says, laying a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he stands in front of the refrigerator, carefully considering its contents. Kyungsoo jumps, surprised both by the sudden contact and by the way Baekhyun’s voice is so calm, so even, so entirely unconcerned.
“Sure,” Kyungsoo breathes, grabbing the carton and passing it to Baekhyun, who takes it from him without another word. Kyungsoo can see Jongin eyeing him from where he’s sitting at the table, but he avoids the other boy’s questioning gaze. Kyungsoo sneaks a glance behind him, where Baekhyun is standing and pouring milk into a glass, before remembering that he doesn’t care what Baekhyun’s doing.
“Morning,” Chanyeol sighs as he stumbles into the kitchen, and Kyungsoo’s breath hitches at the easy way Baekhyun laughs, the way he slides his arm around Chanyeol’s shoulders and helps him over to the empty seat next to Jongin, smirking at the way Chanyeol’s cheeks are suddenly stained with red when Jongin leans his head against his shoulder. Baekhyun’s always been so good at not caring.
“You all right?” Baekhyun asks warmly, and suddenly Kyungsoo realizes he’s been staring.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks hesitantly, cocking his head to the side. Baekhyun doesn’t look more than mildly intrigued as he extricates himself from Chanyeol’s grasp, Chanyeol shooting them a desperate look as he realizes he’s about to be left alone with Jongin.
“Lead the way,” Baekhyun says, motioning for Kyungsoo to move first, and so Kyungsoo hurries out, trying to ignore the way the sound of Baekhyun’s footsteps behind him makes his heart race. He’s still not entirely sure what he’s going to say, but he figures he’ll just say whatever feels right. It’s no use trying to plan things with Baekhyun, he always makes Kyungsoo forget that he ever thought he knew what he was doing.
“Look,” Kyungsoo says roughly as soon as they’re standing in Baekhyun’s empty room, Baekhyun still in the process of closing the door behind him. “About the other day-”
“I thought we said we weren’t going to mention it?” Baekhyun says smoothly, and if Kyungsoo were anyone else, if he were Chanyeol or Jongin, he probably wouldn’t notice the way Baekhyun’s voice wavers slightly on the last few syllables. But Kyungsoo knows what Baekhyun sounds like when he cries, and he knows that even Baekhyun can’t be perfect all the time, no matter how much he tries.
“I’m not-” Kyungsoo tries again, but again Baekhyun cuts him off.
“Look, Kyungsoo,” he says, and now his eyes are hard. “Just forget about it, okay. It was a mistake. A tactical error. I was tired, and sick of pretending, and you have nice lips. Okay? That’s all. It didn’t mean anything.”
“What if-” Kyungsoo mutters, hating the pitying look Baekhyun is giving him. “What if I want it to have meant something?”
“Then you’ll have to get used to disappointment,” Baekhyun says with a heartbreaking smirk playing across his lips. Kyungsoo just isn’t sure whose heart is getting broken.
“I don’t get why this is such a big problem,” Jongin says thoughtfully, shoving another chip into his mouth. He’s lying down on his bed, legs propped up against the wall, and the upside-down frown he’s giving Kyungsoo is simultaneously annoying and adorable. “You both like each other, right? So why don’t you just do something about it?”
“And how is Chanyeol doing?” Kyungsoo asks nastily, but Jongin just laughs.
“That’s not the same thing, hyung,” he says, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes but he knows Jongin’s right. “Chanyeol is like a stray dog. He’s scared, you have to get him to trust you or else he’ll run off every time you try to get close.”
“I’m sure he’d just love to hear you describe him as a dog,” Kyungsoo snorts as Jongin ignores his words and gives him an encouraging smile instead.
“Baekhyun knows what he wants,” Jongin says firmly. “And so do you. You two just need to get over this…thing…you have pushing you apart.”
“Wow, so coherent,” Kyungsoo smiles, ruffling Jongin’s hair fondly.
“You know what I mean,” Jongin sniffs, folding his arms across his chest. “You two are like…you’re both positive sides of different magnets. You repel each other because you’re so similar.”
“Then why should we even bother trying to overcome it?” Kyungsoo sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Obviously that means anything we try will never work out.”
“I don’t think so,” Jongin says, sliding his legs down the wall so he can sit up and look earnestly into Kyungsoo’s eyes. “Just think, all you need is for one of you to get pushed hard enough to flip around and then you’ll attract!”
“Your metaphors need some serious work,” Kyungsoo says, shoving Jongin’s leg playfully. “Because now I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“I think you do,” Jongin says with a grin, wriggling his eyebrows until Kyungsoo laughs, the worried lines scrawled across his forehead smoothing out into something lighter, happier. “Go get him, hyung.”
“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says, shoving a pillow into Jongin’s face, but he can’t help but wonder if maybe Jongin has a point.
Kyungsoo jumps when he realizes suddenly that Baekhyun is the one standing next to him in the dim, early-morning light, that Jongin has suddenly disappeared into the crowd of shuffling bodies all yawning and protesting having to be awake at such an early hour.
“I can’t believe they expect us to be amusing and personable when we’re so tired,” Baekhyun whines, twisting his arm around Kyungsoo’s and slipping his hand into Kyungsoo’s pocket. Kyungsoo fights the urge to jerk away.
“Like you’re not going to be amusing and personable anyway,” Kyungsoo says with a wry smile, and Baekhyun grins back. “And loud, don’t forget loud.”
“You’re welcome,” Baekhyun says, sticking his nose in the air pretentiously. “Thanks to me, no one notices that you are possibly the most boring idol on the planet.”
“Shut up,” Kyungsoo mutters, bumping into Baekhyun and nearly forcing him into a wall as they’re herded down a hallway.
“You love it,” Baekhyun laughs, and Kyungsoo pretends not to hear him.
“And what do you most want from this next round of promotions?” the interviewer, an attractive young man with a bright smile, asks Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo tries not to look too flustered, tries to pretend his heart isn’t threatening to leap up into his throat and choke him the same way it always does when he’s forced to answer questions in interviews, knowing that every single word he says is going to be laughed at and cooed over and taken in and out of context by thousands of people around the world.
“I want us to put on an even better performance for the fans,” Kyungsoo says, because that’s what he’s supposed to say, and having a script makes this all a bit easier. “And I want all of our members to stay healthy.”
“D.O. likes to take care of people,” Baekhyun says mockingly from where he’s sitting all the way at the other end of the line of chairs. Kyungsoo wonders absently if Baekhyun really should be looking so enthusiastic when the interviewer laughs, clapping a slightly-too-friendly hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “He gets mad when we don’t let him worry about us.”
“Well, it’s good to have someone to take of you all,” the host says, smiling indulgently at Baekhyun, and Baekhyun smirks back the way he always does when he has the attention of people he finds attractive. Kyungsoo squirms uncomfortably, only stilling when Jongin places a comforting hand on his thigh.
“I especially worry about Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says before he can stop himself, and the host turns to him with interested eyes. Kyungsoo ignores the way Baekhyun’s eyes narrow before he can stop himself and paste a smile back onto his face. “He works so hard to get his singing perfect.”
“Ah, I’m sure,” the interviewer chuckles, giving Baekhyun another appraising glance that Baekhyun is quick to return. It always amuses Kyungsoo how obvious Baekhyun can be when he wants to. “You two must have your work cut out for you, especially now that you’re promoting as EXO-K again.”
“Personally, I think rapping is much harder than singing,” Baekhyun says quickly, and Chanyeol lights up, immediately responding to the host’s request that he show them an example of his rapping abilities-the ridiculous lyrics he makes up on the spot sending everyone into bursts of laughter. Kyungsoo notices Baekhyun shooting him irritated looks, but he manages to ignore them until they’re finally ushered offstage, rows of hands offering them towels, water bottles, pushing them gently off into the dressing rooms where they’re going to get cleaned up for their performance in an hour. That’s when Baekhyun comes up behind him, clearing his throat loudly as Kyungsoo flips aimlessly through a rack of clothes, wondering what they’ll be putting him in this time.
“Could you at least try not to be so annoying all the time?” Baekhyun spits, eyes cold, but Kyungsoo merely gives him a bland smile.
“What are you talking about?” he asks mildly, pulling a blue button-down partway off a hanger and inspecting the soft fabric thoughtfully. “I though I was supposed to be talking more in interviews.”
“When are you going to get over the fact that I don’t need your help?” Baekhyun sighs disgustedly, and Kyungsoo pretends his heart doesn’t tremble a little at the cutting words. “Does it really annoy you that much that I don’t need you to take care of me, like I’m a child or something? What, having Chanyeol and Jongin and Sehun and all the others isn’t enough for you?”
“You have no idea what annoys me,” Kyungsoo snarls because he hates the way Baekhyun is standing there scoffing at him, hates the way Baekhyun doesn’t realize how much his words hurt because Kyungsoo is too careful to bleed. The last thing he’s expecting is for Baekhyun to reach out towards him, curled fingers gently brushing against the skin of Kyungsoo’s throat before his hand curves around the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, rubbing soothingly at the knob of bone at the top of his spine. Kyungsoo thinks about resisting, starts to pull his head away to avoid him, but Baekhyun’s skin is so warm and his hand is so comforting that Kyungsoo finds himself relaxing into the touch, lowering his head and pretending he doesn’t see the look of veiled wonder mixed with firm purpose on Baekhyun’s face.
They don’t move until Jongin bounds around the rack of clothes, calling for them to hurry over and get their make-up touched up. Then Baekhyun quickly slides his hand away, fingers trailing hotly across Kyungsoo’s back as he drops his arm to his side, and Jongin gives Kyungsoo a suspicious look as they walk back into the main room together. Kyungsoo gives him a brief, resigned glance in return, shrugging as Jongin’s eyes slide away from Kyungsoo’s to follow Baekhyun as he saunters across the room, dropping into the chair next to Sehun and pulling out his phone.
“Did anything…” Jongin tries, but trails off when he sees that Kyungsoo is staring blankly into the distance.
“It was nothing,” Kyungsoo sighs, turning and giving Jongin a tired smile. “Nothing at all.”
“Don’t you ever get sick of this?” Baekhyun asks, as he walks into the kitchen to see Kyungsoo up to his elbows in soapsuds, determinedly cleaning off a sink full of dishes. “Taking care of everyone?”
“No,” Kyungsoo says honestly, rubbing his arm against his side in an effort to push up his slowly slipping sweatshirt sleeve. He’s half-expecting the touch, but he still flinches when he feels Baekhyun’s cool fingers wrapping around his wrist, pushing up the fabric until it’s bunched securely around his upper arms.
“Stop it,” Baekhyun says, and before Kyungsoo can ask what he means Baekhyun is yanking his hands out of the warm water, curling his fingers around both of Kyungsoo’s wrists. “Just. Just stop.”
“Why does it make you so angry?” Kyungsoo asks wonderingly, not quite daring to meet Baekhyun’s eyes. “Why do you care so much?”
“I don’t understand,” Baekhyun whines, and Kyungsoo almost smiles at the childish sound. “I don’t understand how you can do this without wanting anything in return. I can’t understand how people can let you take care of them without feeling like they owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Kyungsoo says firmly, but Baekhyun just stares at him.
“You confuse me,” Baekhyun mutters, brow wrinkling, and this time Kyungsoo does smile, Baekhyun’s frown shifting into a confused half-grin in response.
“If I told you I was perfect, I’d be lying,” Kyungsoo whispers, and he sees Baekhyun’s head slip sideways as he tries to sort through the unfamiliar sounds.
“What?” Baekhyun asks, but Kyungsoo knows he’ll get there. Baekhyun’s always been able to figure out what Kyungsoo means, sometimes before he knows himself.
“If there’s something I’m not doing, boy, I’m trying,” Kyungsoo says, a bit louder this time, and he sees it finally click, Baekhyun’s smile widening until it’s so bright Kyungsoo can feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“I know I’m no angel,” Baekhyun says, and the words all run together because Baekhyun really doesn’t know how to speak English but Kyungsoo loves to hear him try because he sounds so earnest and so pleased with himself.
“They got nothing on you, baby,” Kyungsoo laughs, and he knows he’s probably confused Baekhyun with the suddenly jump in lyrics but it doesn’t matter because Baekhyun is leaning forward and slotting their mouths together and this time Kyungsoo meets him halfway, their tongues twining together in a way that doesn’t have anything to do with magnets, or words, or worries, and everything to do with Baekhyun and how he makes Kyungsoo feel so off-balance in just the right way.
“Nothing on you,” Baekhyun repeats, words thick and unwieldy on his tongue, and Kyungsoo kisses him again just to taste some of that sincerity, that mix of confidence and doubt that is so uniquely Baekhyun.
“You were right, about the lyrics,” Kyungsoo mutters against Baekhyun’s lips, and Baekhyun smiles, hair falling gently into his eyes in a way that makes him look so lovely it takes Kyungsoo’s breath away.
“I know,” Baekhyun laughs, breath hot against Kyungsoo’s skin, and Kyungsoo would roll his eyes at Baekhyun’s typical cockiness if he weren’t so busy trying to kiss the air out his lungs.
“But I like my version better,” Kyungsoo hums, and Baekhyun suddenly pulls back to stare at him, eyes shining.
“I do too,” Baekhyun says with that smile Kyungsoo loves, and he can’t imagine how he wasted so much time he could have spent kissing Baekhyun. He hopes that Baekhyun’s wondering the same thing. Judging by the possessive way he leans in again, pressing Kyungsoo tight against his chest, Kyungsoo thinks he probably is.
When Kyungsoo walks into the kitchen and sees Baekhyun standing over a mug of tea, coughing harshly into his sleeve, he tries not to say anything. He really does. But he just can’t help himself-as Baekhyun continues to cough he walks over, wrapping a comforting arm around his waist, and asks, “Are you all right?”
Baekhyun grimaces, and Kyungsoo can tell that he’s fighting the urge to shoot back some sarcastic remark. But, amazingly, he doesn’t. Because Baekhyun always seems to know just what to do to make Kyungsoo feel like he’s standing on the deck of a ship in the middle of a storm, hoping that he remembered to tie himself to reality just tightly enough.
“Just this once,” is what Baekhyun actually says, reaching out and brushing Kyungsoo’s hair out of his eyes, and Kyungsoo grins, grabbing the mug of tea and practically dragging him over to a chair by the table.
“Don’t you worry about anything,” he says crisply, as Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I’ll make some soup, and you’ll take a nap and by tomorrow you’ll feel much better. What are we supposed to do if our lead singer is sick?”
“Again with the fishing for compliments,” Baekhyun snorts, and Kyungsoo laughs because this kind of easy familiarity is something he’s always wanted in his plan, written confidently down next to their schedule and the lyrics to another song he’s trying to memorize for interviews. Stable. Safe.
“I’m trying,” Kyungsoo says quietly, and when Baekhyun looks up at him his eyes are so bright and so full Kyungsoo feels his heart swell a little.
“You certainly are,” Baekhyun laughs, raising the mug to his lips, and in the early-morning stillness Kyungsoo thinks that he kind of loves this. Maybe he could get used to confusing after all.
Pairing: Baekhyun/Kyungsoo
Rating: PG-13
Genre: fluff, canon
Length: 6,000
Summary: Inspired by this. Also, this.
“Well, that was amazing,” Baekhyun says from where he’s standing, leaning up against the wall right outside the studio door. Kyungsoo freezes, surprised to see him. He’d thought the rest of the members were already outside in the vans, waiting to be whisked off to their next interview, their next performance, their next recording session.
“What was?” Kyungsoo asks, as Baekhyun falls into step beside him.
“You and Chanyeol sounded fantastic together,” Baekhyun replies, and the smile on his face is making it difficult for Kyungsoo to tell if he’s joking. “Your English has gotten really good, have you been practicing?”
“Yeah, a little,” Kyungsoo says with a noncommittal shrug, brushing off the crushing weight of hours and hours spent poring over a dictionary, testing out strange-sounding words, trying not to blur his “r”s and “l”s and getting a handle on those ridiculously annoying “th”s. He knows Baekhyun understands when his small smile widens into a grin and he claps Kyungsoo on the back before draping his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders.
“Next time, though, you should try to get the lyrics right,” he says with a bright laugh, and the happiness with which the insult is delivered throws Kyungsoo off-balance in the same way Baekhyun’s always doing. Kyungsoo kind of hates it.
“What are you talking about?” he asks angrily, swiping at Baekhyun’s arm to try to push it off his shoulders. He spent an entire week memorizing those lines, they were perfect.
“You know, that part, how does it go?” Baekhyun sucks in a breath and Kyungsoo knows he’s about to sing the line so his stomach clenches the way it always does when Baekhyun sings. You’d have thought he’d have gotten used to it by now. But there’s always that same feeling, somewhere between jealousy, pride, and admiration, because Baekhyun’s voice always sounds like melted sunshine and Kyungsoo sometimes wishes his did too even if everyone says he’s the better singer.
“If there’s something I’m not doing, girl, I’m trying.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Kyungsoo sniffs as Baekhyun leaps forward and grabs the door handle, body folding into a mocking bow as he ushers Kyungsoo out of the studio.
“No, you said ‘boy,’” Baekhyun insists, threading his arm through Kyungsoo’s as they walk over to the car, where everyone’s waiting for them. Kyungsoo can see Chanyeol face pressed against the window, eyes wide with concern-no doubt because Jongin’s invading his personal space again. “You said, ‘boy, I’m trying.’”
“Whatever,” Kyungsoo mutters, yanking open the car door a bit more forcefully than he meant to and almost smacking Baekhyun in the face.
He’s glad that he’s able to slide into the last open seat-crushed between a snoring Sehun and the door-so that Baekhyun’s forced to ride in the other car. Kyungsoo watches him pull open the door and shove himself into the space between Luhan and Jongdae before the car sputters to life, lumbering off down the quickly darkening street. It’s not that cold but Kyungsoo wishes he had a heavier jacket-he feels like the chill from the window glass is seeping into his bones. He wishes he hadn’t been so confident, hadn’t tried to put more emotion into his singing, tried to make it more real. Mostly he wishes Baekhyun spoke less English.
“Are you all right?” he asks Baekhyun as the other boy stumbles into the kitchen, blearily yanking open the cabinets until he finds a mug for his tea. “You look a little pale.”
“Look, I know you have this weird urge to help people all the time,” Baekhyun says, the sharpness in his voice blurred by sleep. “But I don’t need you whining at me too. I get enough of that from Junmyeon.”
“Sorry,” Kyungsoo murmurs, watching Baekhyun fill his mug with the hot water Kyungsoo had gotten up early to make, eyes tracing over the hollows under Baekhyun’s eyes, the way his thin fingers rub nervously up and down the ceramic handle of his glass. “I’m just asking because it’s going to be hard for us to perform if our lead vocalist can’t sing.”
“I can’t tell if you’re fishing for compliments or just being annoying as fuck,” Baekhyun hisses, grabbing his mug and making as if to leave the room, probably to go back to his bedroom. Kyungsoo tries to sort out the emotions rolling around inside of him-hurt, annoyance, a slight glimmer of that familiar pleasure he feels every time Baekhyun compliments his singing-but it’s impossible and by the time he stops trying Baekhyun has left the room.
“Wow, did you say something rude again?” Jongin asks, slouching into the room and slumping down in the chair next to Kyungsoo. “I honestly think you should look into buying a brain-to-mouth filter, hyung. I bet they sell them in America.”
“Obviously you know nothing about America,” Kyungsoo snorts, shoving Jongin so hard he nearly falls off his chair, but he has to admit that he does feel better afterwards. It’s just too much work to be miserable around Jongin. He’s not like Baekhyun-he’s quiet and hates asking people for help, but when he finally does he can ask without throwing up a wall of sarcastic remarks, without pretending that absolutely nothing is wrong when absolutely everything is wrong. Baekhyun makes everything confusing. Kyungsoo doesn’t like confusing.
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one trying to pretend I don’t have feelings,” Jongin laughs, leaning back and putting his feet up on the table. Kyungsoo quickly slaps them down, ignoring Jongin’s whine of protest.
“I don’t have feelings,” Kyungsoo deadpans as Jongin gives him a look. “They’re too much work. I’m busy, I don’t have time for that kind of thing.”
“Mmhmm, sure,” Jongin drawls annoyingly, and this time when Kyungsoo shoves him he does fall out of his chair, landing hard on the floor with a yelp. “Okay, I take it back, you don’t have any feelings besides psychotic rage.”
“Yeah, yeah, hurry up and eat, we have a photoshoot in an hour,” Kyungsoo laughs, gesturing behind him towards the soup he threw together while he was waiting for the hot water to boil. It was a pleasant surprise to find they actually had some food in the fridge that hadn’t already been devoured.
The door to Baekhyun’s room is closed, but when Sehun walks past Kyungsoo, towel wrapped tightly around his waist, and pushes on the handle, it opens easily and Kyungsoo can almost imagine he sees Baekhyun’s brown hair in the corner, dark against the white walls. But then the door closes again and Kyungsoo is left standing in the hallway, wondering why he stopped at all.
“This is ridiculous,” Baekhyun hisses as they sit side by side, perfectly still, hurried stylists rushing around wielding brushes, eyeliner, and hair gel like the swords Tao insists he knows how to use safely. Surprised at the way all the animosity from the morning seems to have evaporated, Kyungsoo responds with a swift smile and a wry murmur of agreement. Baekhyun, however, seems unsatisfied with his less-than-enthusiastic support.
“Don’t you think so?” he goes on, eyeing himself in the mirror. “I look ridiculous. This hair color does not look good with my skin tone.”
And Kyungsoo personally thinks that Baekhyun’s honey-colored hair goes very well with his skin tone, or maybe it just matches Baekhyun’s bright smile, the way his eyes sparkle under the yellow-white lights, dark eyeliner drawing Kyungsoo in until all he can see is that sparkle.
“I don’t know, it’s not that bad,” he says, and Baekhyun snorts derisively. “At least it’s not red, right?”
“Your hair’s not red,” Baekhyun sniffs, eyeing Kyungsoo’s hair critically, and suddenly Kyungsoo feels extremely self-conscious, very aware that he hasn’t had his makeup done yet and he’s probably sweating because it’s hot in here and he’s still wearing his jacket. “It’s more of an auburn. It’s not bad at all.”
“You look good no matter what they do to your hair,” Kyungsoo says, and then fights the urge to slap a hand over his mouth because that is not what he meant to say at all. At all.
“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere,” Baekhyun laughs, turning back to the mirror as a new flurry of stylists descends, filling up the space between them and blocking him from sight. Kyungsoo is very glad he can attribute the redness of his cheeks to the heat in the room when one woman frowns at him, tilting his head back and asking why he’s so flushed.
“Great, now put your arms around each other,” the photographer shouts from his spot next to his expensive equipment, frowning pensively as he watches the boys in front of him jostle and shove, swishing of fabric on fabric loud even in the busy room. “Just like that.”
Kyungsoo grins, lips twitching upwards in that way he knows makes him look just adorable enough to satisfy them, though he really wants to grimace as the movement crushes him even closer to Baekhyun’s side. He’s surprised Baekhyun hasn’t protested, hasn’t made some snide remark about Kyungsoo being heavy for his size or how Baekhyun would like some room to breathe if Kyungsoo doesn’t mind not hovering for one minute.
“Okay, now something more fun,” the photographer says, waving an arm as if to show them what fun looks like in the space of a gesture. “Come on, move around a little! You’re young, playful, you get all the girls!”
Kyungsoo nearly jumps backwards when he feels Baekhyun’s head settle on his shoulder and his breath huff hotly against his ear.
“Guess that’s less of an incentive for some of us,” he mutters, and Kyungsoo suppresses a shudder.
“What are you talking about?” he snaps, forcing his frown up into something vaguely resembling a tight smile.
“I think they call it a Freudian slip,” Baekhyun mutters, and Kyungsoo wonders how he can possibly be talking when his mouth is set in such a perfect smile, eyes glittering with reflected light, lips bowed perfectly upwards framing his white teeth. He knows it’s not Baekhyun’s real smile, not the same smile he wears when Kyungsoo meets his eyes at a fansign and makes a weird face, not the same smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes, the one that Kyungsoo has seemed to be able to coax out of him less and less often recently.
“Wasn’t Freud that psychoanalyst?” Kyungsoo asks, narrowing his eyes and turning to Baekhyun as the photographer calls a break.
“Good job, who knew you were so smart?” Baekhyun gasps sarcastically, and Kyungsoo’s pleased that now he’s allowed to frown properly.
“I still don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Kyungsoo sniffs, turning away to see where Jongin and Junmyeon have wandered off to. At least with them he can have a conversation without feeling like he’s standing on one foot, trying to pat his head and rub his stomach at the same time.
“Okay, then,” Baekhyun says, throwing up his hands and shaking his head sorrowfully. “Have it your way.”
“What way?” Kyungsoo demands, but Baekhyun is already walking off, slinging an arm around Jongin’s waist and dragging him over to talk to an already blushing Chanyeol.
“You look like someone just told you your cat died,” Junmyeon remarks as he sidles up to where Kyungsoo is standing, and Kyungsoo glares at him.
“I don’t even like cats,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest.
“Yeah, well, Baekhyun does,” Junmyeon says, and Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow even more.
“What does Baekhyun have to do with anything?” he asks, though he can’t stop his eyes from sliding over to where Baekhyun is leaning against Chanyeol’s side, lacing their fingers together for support.
“You know, oddly enough, some things don’t go away the more you ignore them,” Junmyeon says conversationally, and Kyungsoo doesn’t think he can glare any harder so he just looks away, eyes flicking over to the ceiling, the walls, anywhere but Junmyeon and especially anywhere but Baekhyun.
“I don’t ignore things until they go away,” Kyungsoo sniffs, letting Junmyeon put a comforting hand on his shoulder, though he doesn’t need it. “I’m a professional. I just don’t have time for things like that.”
“Don’t have time for feelings?” Junmyeon snorts, and Kyungsoo sighs.
“Why is everyone always saying that?” he asks despairingly, throwing up his hands. “What’s wrong with deciding feelings are too much effort? I have choreography to learn! Lines to practice! Fangirls to impress! I don’t have time.”
“For someone who doesn’t have time for feelings, you’re awfully dramatic,” Junmyeon laughs, and this time Kyungsoo storms off, turning on his heel and heading towards the bathroom. At least no one will bother him in there.
He shuts the door and then simply stands there, forehead resting against the cool wood, thinking about what Baekhyun had said, about slips of the tongue, about Kyungsoo not having enough of an incentive. He hates how observant Baekhyun is. No one else had noticed-not Chanyeol, though that’s not a surprise, not Kris, who supposedly speaks English and should have realized Kyungsoo had said the wrong word. He could always blame it on his poor grasp of all those pesky little nouns that slip out of Kyungsoo’s mind like water through a sieve. But he can’t fool himself, and apparently he can’t fool Baekhyun. Because he was right. Kyungsoo had most definitely not been thinking about a girl.
It’s always been Baekhyun. Always, since he first met him and saw him smile, eyes alight with pure joy at having been chosen, at having been given a chance to live his dream sooner than most people could ever hope to. Because Baekhyun is sturdy and calm when Tao and Chanyeol are hysterical and worried, and Baekhyun is kind and funny when Sehun and Kris are stiff and awkward and never know what to say. Because Kyungsoo thinks he’s the only one who’s seen Baekhyun crumble, that one night when they were up late practicing for their showcase and Baekhyun had just dissolved, slipping through Kyungsoo’s fingers like wet sand. Because Baekhyun always seems so strong and it’s frustrating because what Kyungsoo is best at is building people up, throwing them a rope when they’re too tired or too scared to jump. And, ever since the first and last time he ever saw Baekhyun cry-really cry-Baekhyun has never let Kyungsoo be that person for him.
“Hello? Anyone in here?” Tao’s voice is loud in the small space, and Kyungsoo sighs, turning to the sink and watching the water run down the drain. Tao gives him a strange glance as he opens the door and Kyungsoo wonders what look he must have on his face. As he walks quickly down the hallway, he’s able to school it into something closer to his typically flat expression-the one that lets nothing escape, the one that reveals nothing. Before Baekhyun, Kyungsoo had always been good at revealing nothing.
“Baekhyun!” Chanyeol shouts with glee as Baekhyun opens the door to their room, poking his head in and scanning the inhabitants. Jongin and Chanyeol are curled up on Jongin’s bed, watching some movie on Chanyeol’s laptop, and Jongin manages to give Baekhyun a small smile before pulling Chanyeol down again. From where he’s sitting on his bed poring over more lists of words he ought to remember by now, Kyungsoo studiously ignores him.
“Can I talk to you?” is all Baekhyun says, sly smile on his face, and Kyungsoo looks up, fighting to keep a blush from spreading across his cheeks when he sees that Baekhyun is looking right at him.
“Yeah, sure,” he replies calmly, sliding off the bed and ignoring the way Jongin is wiggling his eyebrows annoyingly at him. So maybe Jongin knows a little more than he should about the way Kyungsoo feels about Baekhyun. So maybe Kyungsoo can’t keep from having feelings all of the time, and when he does finally let them through he needs to tell someone, needs someone else to remind him that he’s not crazy. Kyungsoo always listens and so he always has trouble reminding people that sometimes he needs to talk as well.
Baekhyun leads the way into the kitchen where he leans against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. His hair looks soft and light, like sunshine, and he’s smiling so prettily Kyungsoo almost decides to let down his guard. But then Baekhyun speaks.
“So are you ever going to do anything?” he asks, amusement coloring his voice, and Kyungsoo instantly shuts down, eyes going dark as he sucks all the important parts of himself back inside where they can’t get hurt.
“About what?” he asks, and he thinks he sees Baekhyun’s face fall a little, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light filtering through the small window.
“Look, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says, and this time his voice is softer, all the cocky confidence gone. “I know it’s not exactly a secret. The way I feel about you. But I just need to know how you feel. Don’t pretend you don’t feel anything, we all know that’s a lie, you feel everything too much, that’s your problem.”
“What are you even talking about?” Kyungsoo sighs tiredly, because he knows Baekhyun likes him well enough but he’ll never depend on him, he’ll never need Kyungsoo the way Kyungsoo wants to be needed.
“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun whispers softly, and Kyungsoo can’t suppress a shiver at the way Baekhyun’s tongue curls around the word, cradling it gently in his mouth.
And this time, when Kyungsoo looks up, Baekhyun’s eyes are desperate, his teeth worrying his lower lip, and Kyungsoo doesn’t even have time to respond before Baekhyun is kissing him, swooping down and capturing Kyungsoo’s lips with his own. Kyungsoo is startled and he tenses involuntarily, the warm press of Baekhyun’s body against his own too much and too sudden and too terrifying.
“Oh, god, I’m-” Baekhyun gasps when Kyungsoo remains stiff and unmoving, dropping his hands to his sides and taking a giant step backwards. His eyes are frantic now, flicking back and forth across the small kitchen. “I’m so sorry, I just thought you-but then you never did anything so I was starting to wonder if you didn’t and I’d just imagined it all so I had to-”
“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo says softly, hating himself more with every word that forces its way out from between his lips. “You don’t have to apologize, I understand.”
“Good,” Baekhyun stammers, and now he’s stepping backwards, hands sliding across the backs of chairs, the tabletop, pressing against his jeans-anything to stop them from shaking, to root Baekhyun to the ground as his mind spins. “Look, I’m sorry, I just-can we just pretend this never happened?”
“Sure,” Kyungsoo nods, giving Baekhyun a quick smile that Baekhyun doesn’t return. As he darts out of the doorway, Kyungsoo sees that Baekhyun’s eyes are much too glossy, shining with a thin film of liquid sorrow, and suddenly Kyungsoo’s chest aches like someone’s replaced his heart with a hot stone.
“Could you pass the milk?” Baekhyun says, laying a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he stands in front of the refrigerator, carefully considering its contents. Kyungsoo jumps, surprised both by the sudden contact and by the way Baekhyun’s voice is so calm, so even, so entirely unconcerned.
“Sure,” Kyungsoo breathes, grabbing the carton and passing it to Baekhyun, who takes it from him without another word. Kyungsoo can see Jongin eyeing him from where he’s sitting at the table, but he avoids the other boy’s questioning gaze. Kyungsoo sneaks a glance behind him, where Baekhyun is standing and pouring milk into a glass, before remembering that he doesn’t care what Baekhyun’s doing.
“Morning,” Chanyeol sighs as he stumbles into the kitchen, and Kyungsoo’s breath hitches at the easy way Baekhyun laughs, the way he slides his arm around Chanyeol’s shoulders and helps him over to the empty seat next to Jongin, smirking at the way Chanyeol’s cheeks are suddenly stained with red when Jongin leans his head against his shoulder. Baekhyun’s always been so good at not caring.
“You all right?” Baekhyun asks warmly, and suddenly Kyungsoo realizes he’s been staring.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks hesitantly, cocking his head to the side. Baekhyun doesn’t look more than mildly intrigued as he extricates himself from Chanyeol’s grasp, Chanyeol shooting them a desperate look as he realizes he’s about to be left alone with Jongin.
“Lead the way,” Baekhyun says, motioning for Kyungsoo to move first, and so Kyungsoo hurries out, trying to ignore the way the sound of Baekhyun’s footsteps behind him makes his heart race. He’s still not entirely sure what he’s going to say, but he figures he’ll just say whatever feels right. It’s no use trying to plan things with Baekhyun, he always makes Kyungsoo forget that he ever thought he knew what he was doing.
“Look,” Kyungsoo says roughly as soon as they’re standing in Baekhyun’s empty room, Baekhyun still in the process of closing the door behind him. “About the other day-”
“I thought we said we weren’t going to mention it?” Baekhyun says smoothly, and if Kyungsoo were anyone else, if he were Chanyeol or Jongin, he probably wouldn’t notice the way Baekhyun’s voice wavers slightly on the last few syllables. But Kyungsoo knows what Baekhyun sounds like when he cries, and he knows that even Baekhyun can’t be perfect all the time, no matter how much he tries.
“I’m not-” Kyungsoo tries again, but again Baekhyun cuts him off.
“Look, Kyungsoo,” he says, and now his eyes are hard. “Just forget about it, okay. It was a mistake. A tactical error. I was tired, and sick of pretending, and you have nice lips. Okay? That’s all. It didn’t mean anything.”
“What if-” Kyungsoo mutters, hating the pitying look Baekhyun is giving him. “What if I want it to have meant something?”
“Then you’ll have to get used to disappointment,” Baekhyun says with a heartbreaking smirk playing across his lips. Kyungsoo just isn’t sure whose heart is getting broken.
“I don’t get why this is such a big problem,” Jongin says thoughtfully, shoving another chip into his mouth. He’s lying down on his bed, legs propped up against the wall, and the upside-down frown he’s giving Kyungsoo is simultaneously annoying and adorable. “You both like each other, right? So why don’t you just do something about it?”
“And how is Chanyeol doing?” Kyungsoo asks nastily, but Jongin just laughs.
“That’s not the same thing, hyung,” he says, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes but he knows Jongin’s right. “Chanyeol is like a stray dog. He’s scared, you have to get him to trust you or else he’ll run off every time you try to get close.”
“I’m sure he’d just love to hear you describe him as a dog,” Kyungsoo snorts as Jongin ignores his words and gives him an encouraging smile instead.
“Baekhyun knows what he wants,” Jongin says firmly. “And so do you. You two just need to get over this…thing…you have pushing you apart.”
“Wow, so coherent,” Kyungsoo smiles, ruffling Jongin’s hair fondly.
“You know what I mean,” Jongin sniffs, folding his arms across his chest. “You two are like…you’re both positive sides of different magnets. You repel each other because you’re so similar.”
“Then why should we even bother trying to overcome it?” Kyungsoo sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Obviously that means anything we try will never work out.”
“I don’t think so,” Jongin says, sliding his legs down the wall so he can sit up and look earnestly into Kyungsoo’s eyes. “Just think, all you need is for one of you to get pushed hard enough to flip around and then you’ll attract!”
“Your metaphors need some serious work,” Kyungsoo says, shoving Jongin’s leg playfully. “Because now I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“I think you do,” Jongin says with a grin, wriggling his eyebrows until Kyungsoo laughs, the worried lines scrawled across his forehead smoothing out into something lighter, happier. “Go get him, hyung.”
“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says, shoving a pillow into Jongin’s face, but he can’t help but wonder if maybe Jongin has a point.
Kyungsoo jumps when he realizes suddenly that Baekhyun is the one standing next to him in the dim, early-morning light, that Jongin has suddenly disappeared into the crowd of shuffling bodies all yawning and protesting having to be awake at such an early hour.
“I can’t believe they expect us to be amusing and personable when we’re so tired,” Baekhyun whines, twisting his arm around Kyungsoo’s and slipping his hand into Kyungsoo’s pocket. Kyungsoo fights the urge to jerk away.
“Like you’re not going to be amusing and personable anyway,” Kyungsoo says with a wry smile, and Baekhyun grins back. “And loud, don’t forget loud.”
“You’re welcome,” Baekhyun says, sticking his nose in the air pretentiously. “Thanks to me, no one notices that you are possibly the most boring idol on the planet.”
“Shut up,” Kyungsoo mutters, bumping into Baekhyun and nearly forcing him into a wall as they’re herded down a hallway.
“You love it,” Baekhyun laughs, and Kyungsoo pretends not to hear him.
“And what do you most want from this next round of promotions?” the interviewer, an attractive young man with a bright smile, asks Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo tries not to look too flustered, tries to pretend his heart isn’t threatening to leap up into his throat and choke him the same way it always does when he’s forced to answer questions in interviews, knowing that every single word he says is going to be laughed at and cooed over and taken in and out of context by thousands of people around the world.
“I want us to put on an even better performance for the fans,” Kyungsoo says, because that’s what he’s supposed to say, and having a script makes this all a bit easier. “And I want all of our members to stay healthy.”
“D.O. likes to take care of people,” Baekhyun says mockingly from where he’s sitting all the way at the other end of the line of chairs. Kyungsoo wonders absently if Baekhyun really should be looking so enthusiastic when the interviewer laughs, clapping a slightly-too-friendly hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “He gets mad when we don’t let him worry about us.”
“Well, it’s good to have someone to take of you all,” the host says, smiling indulgently at Baekhyun, and Baekhyun smirks back the way he always does when he has the attention of people he finds attractive. Kyungsoo squirms uncomfortably, only stilling when Jongin places a comforting hand on his thigh.
“I especially worry about Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says before he can stop himself, and the host turns to him with interested eyes. Kyungsoo ignores the way Baekhyun’s eyes narrow before he can stop himself and paste a smile back onto his face. “He works so hard to get his singing perfect.”
“Ah, I’m sure,” the interviewer chuckles, giving Baekhyun another appraising glance that Baekhyun is quick to return. It always amuses Kyungsoo how obvious Baekhyun can be when he wants to. “You two must have your work cut out for you, especially now that you’re promoting as EXO-K again.”
“Personally, I think rapping is much harder than singing,” Baekhyun says quickly, and Chanyeol lights up, immediately responding to the host’s request that he show them an example of his rapping abilities-the ridiculous lyrics he makes up on the spot sending everyone into bursts of laughter. Kyungsoo notices Baekhyun shooting him irritated looks, but he manages to ignore them until they’re finally ushered offstage, rows of hands offering them towels, water bottles, pushing them gently off into the dressing rooms where they’re going to get cleaned up for their performance in an hour. That’s when Baekhyun comes up behind him, clearing his throat loudly as Kyungsoo flips aimlessly through a rack of clothes, wondering what they’ll be putting him in this time.
“Could you at least try not to be so annoying all the time?” Baekhyun spits, eyes cold, but Kyungsoo merely gives him a bland smile.
“What are you talking about?” he asks mildly, pulling a blue button-down partway off a hanger and inspecting the soft fabric thoughtfully. “I though I was supposed to be talking more in interviews.”
“When are you going to get over the fact that I don’t need your help?” Baekhyun sighs disgustedly, and Kyungsoo pretends his heart doesn’t tremble a little at the cutting words. “Does it really annoy you that much that I don’t need you to take care of me, like I’m a child or something? What, having Chanyeol and Jongin and Sehun and all the others isn’t enough for you?”
“You have no idea what annoys me,” Kyungsoo snarls because he hates the way Baekhyun is standing there scoffing at him, hates the way Baekhyun doesn’t realize how much his words hurt because Kyungsoo is too careful to bleed. The last thing he’s expecting is for Baekhyun to reach out towards him, curled fingers gently brushing against the skin of Kyungsoo’s throat before his hand curves around the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, rubbing soothingly at the knob of bone at the top of his spine. Kyungsoo thinks about resisting, starts to pull his head away to avoid him, but Baekhyun’s skin is so warm and his hand is so comforting that Kyungsoo finds himself relaxing into the touch, lowering his head and pretending he doesn’t see the look of veiled wonder mixed with firm purpose on Baekhyun’s face.
They don’t move until Jongin bounds around the rack of clothes, calling for them to hurry over and get their make-up touched up. Then Baekhyun quickly slides his hand away, fingers trailing hotly across Kyungsoo’s back as he drops his arm to his side, and Jongin gives Kyungsoo a suspicious look as they walk back into the main room together. Kyungsoo gives him a brief, resigned glance in return, shrugging as Jongin’s eyes slide away from Kyungsoo’s to follow Baekhyun as he saunters across the room, dropping into the chair next to Sehun and pulling out his phone.
“Did anything…” Jongin tries, but trails off when he sees that Kyungsoo is staring blankly into the distance.
“It was nothing,” Kyungsoo sighs, turning and giving Jongin a tired smile. “Nothing at all.”
“Don’t you ever get sick of this?” Baekhyun asks, as he walks into the kitchen to see Kyungsoo up to his elbows in soapsuds, determinedly cleaning off a sink full of dishes. “Taking care of everyone?”
“No,” Kyungsoo says honestly, rubbing his arm against his side in an effort to push up his slowly slipping sweatshirt sleeve. He’s half-expecting the touch, but he still flinches when he feels Baekhyun’s cool fingers wrapping around his wrist, pushing up the fabric until it’s bunched securely around his upper arms.
“Stop it,” Baekhyun says, and before Kyungsoo can ask what he means Baekhyun is yanking his hands out of the warm water, curling his fingers around both of Kyungsoo’s wrists. “Just. Just stop.”
“Why does it make you so angry?” Kyungsoo asks wonderingly, not quite daring to meet Baekhyun’s eyes. “Why do you care so much?”
“I don’t understand,” Baekhyun whines, and Kyungsoo almost smiles at the childish sound. “I don’t understand how you can do this without wanting anything in return. I can’t understand how people can let you take care of them without feeling like they owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Kyungsoo says firmly, but Baekhyun just stares at him.
“You confuse me,” Baekhyun mutters, brow wrinkling, and this time Kyungsoo does smile, Baekhyun’s frown shifting into a confused half-grin in response.
“If I told you I was perfect, I’d be lying,” Kyungsoo whispers, and he sees Baekhyun’s head slip sideways as he tries to sort through the unfamiliar sounds.
“What?” Baekhyun asks, but Kyungsoo knows he’ll get there. Baekhyun’s always been able to figure out what Kyungsoo means, sometimes before he knows himself.
“If there’s something I’m not doing, boy, I’m trying,” Kyungsoo says, a bit louder this time, and he sees it finally click, Baekhyun’s smile widening until it’s so bright Kyungsoo can feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“I know I’m no angel,” Baekhyun says, and the words all run together because Baekhyun really doesn’t know how to speak English but Kyungsoo loves to hear him try because he sounds so earnest and so pleased with himself.
“They got nothing on you, baby,” Kyungsoo laughs, and he knows he’s probably confused Baekhyun with the suddenly jump in lyrics but it doesn’t matter because Baekhyun is leaning forward and slotting their mouths together and this time Kyungsoo meets him halfway, their tongues twining together in a way that doesn’t have anything to do with magnets, or words, or worries, and everything to do with Baekhyun and how he makes Kyungsoo feel so off-balance in just the right way.
“Nothing on you,” Baekhyun repeats, words thick and unwieldy on his tongue, and Kyungsoo kisses him again just to taste some of that sincerity, that mix of confidence and doubt that is so uniquely Baekhyun.
“You were right, about the lyrics,” Kyungsoo mutters against Baekhyun’s lips, and Baekhyun smiles, hair falling gently into his eyes in a way that makes him look so lovely it takes Kyungsoo’s breath away.
“I know,” Baekhyun laughs, breath hot against Kyungsoo’s skin, and Kyungsoo would roll his eyes at Baekhyun’s typical cockiness if he weren’t so busy trying to kiss the air out his lungs.
“But I like my version better,” Kyungsoo hums, and Baekhyun suddenly pulls back to stare at him, eyes shining.
“I do too,” Baekhyun says with that smile Kyungsoo loves, and he can’t imagine how he wasted so much time he could have spent kissing Baekhyun. He hopes that Baekhyun’s wondering the same thing. Judging by the possessive way he leans in again, pressing Kyungsoo tight against his chest, Kyungsoo thinks he probably is.
When Kyungsoo walks into the kitchen and sees Baekhyun standing over a mug of tea, coughing harshly into his sleeve, he tries not to say anything. He really does. But he just can’t help himself-as Baekhyun continues to cough he walks over, wrapping a comforting arm around his waist, and asks, “Are you all right?”
Baekhyun grimaces, and Kyungsoo can tell that he’s fighting the urge to shoot back some sarcastic remark. But, amazingly, he doesn’t. Because Baekhyun always seems to know just what to do to make Kyungsoo feel like he’s standing on the deck of a ship in the middle of a storm, hoping that he remembered to tie himself to reality just tightly enough.
“Just this once,” is what Baekhyun actually says, reaching out and brushing Kyungsoo’s hair out of his eyes, and Kyungsoo grins, grabbing the mug of tea and practically dragging him over to a chair by the table.
“Don’t you worry about anything,” he says crisply, as Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I’ll make some soup, and you’ll take a nap and by tomorrow you’ll feel much better. What are we supposed to do if our lead singer is sick?”
“Again with the fishing for compliments,” Baekhyun snorts, and Kyungsoo laughs because this kind of easy familiarity is something he’s always wanted in his plan, written confidently down next to their schedule and the lyrics to another song he’s trying to memorize for interviews. Stable. Safe.
“I’m trying,” Kyungsoo says quietly, and when Baekhyun looks up at him his eyes are so bright and so full Kyungsoo feels his heart swell a little.
“You certainly are,” Baekhyun laughs, raising the mug to his lips, and in the early-morning stillness Kyungsoo thinks that he kind of loves this. Maybe he could get used to confusing after all.