CHINGUX 2014: summer fling, don't mean a thing (3/3) for frailspells
← PART 2
tinley park, illinois. july 19.
Kyungsoo storms into the bus right when Chanyeol's trying to take a nap on the back couch, and straddles his lap. Chanyeol can hear the faint sounds of All Time Low's set in the distance, muffled by the walls of the bus. Kyungsoo smells like he's been standing out in the sunshine for too long, sort of hot and sour, and he seems flustered. Chanyeol lets him inch up his chest until Kyungsoo gets to the bare skin of Chanyeol's throat and leans in to kiss it.
"Stop," Chanyeol croaks, pushing Kyungsoo away. Kyungsoo frowns, fingers hooked in the belt loops of Chanyeol's jeans. He tries to move against the resistance and push back a little bit but Chanyeol's too strong. A beat. "I'm not Yura."
Kyungsoo freezes and blinks slowly, tongue wetting his lips as he considers what's just been said to him. "I know," he says slowly.
"You can't-we can't keep doing this when I know it's just because we look alike. It's the hair, isn't it? Because I didn't get a haircut before we left, and she did. And we always got mistaken for twins when we were growing up, ask Baekhyun, it's a pretty common mistake-"
Kyungsoo's eyebrows lift to his hairline. "Chanyeol. Are you stupid?" He sits up, shaking his head. "You think I don't know the difference between a woman's body and-you? This?" He waves his arms in a sweeping gesture between them. His hand moves so fast he slaps Chanyeol in the chest. "You're not that much alike."
"Then why?"
"You think maybe it's because I'm doing it on purpose because it's you?" Kyungsoo's eyes widen, chin jutting out obstinately.
Chanyeol opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. "I. What."
"You know, you could have asked me if you were confused."
"But we were working," Chanyeol says feebly. "I thought you were blowing off steam-and you'd get mad and stop if I said anything." His hand covers his mouth. It sounds stupid as hell now that he's saying it out loud.
"I'm kind of weirded out you thought I thought you were your sister."
"You just said 'thought' a whole lot," Chanyeol says dumbly, for lack of anything constructive to say. You're right. It's weird. He buries his fists in his pockets. Something digs into his knuckles, rigid and sharp. He fishes it out-a bright green Tortex guitar pick. Runs his fingernail along the scalloped edge, listening to the quiet clicking.
"There were no thoughts. You didn't actually think at all, did you?" Kyungsoo's face scrunches. He gets up off Chanyeol's legs and sits back on the neighboring seat, just out of Chanyeol's reach. The bus is vibrating, humming very quietly with all the different bass lines from all the different bands playing at once. Chanyeol's not sure if that's what's giving him this dull headache or if it's the sad look on Kyungsoo's face, but either way it feels like someone's taken a sledgehammer to the bridge of his nose.
"Don't go away," Chanyeol says. "I just wanted..."
Kyungsoo waits. "You wanted what," he prompts softly when Chanyeol can't find the words to continue. "Tell me."
"I can't tell what this is. Or if it's a good idea."
"It's a stupid idea. And you're an idiot," Kyungsoo says frankly. He takes the guitar pick from Chanyeol and turns it around in his fingers, holds it up to the light to inspect it. "You work for me." He tosses the guitar pick and snatches it out of the air.
"With you."
"I don't make that distinction." Kyungsoo's smile is askew on his face, higher on his left side than his right, bubbling forth even though he's obviously doing his best to suppress it. Chanyeol laughs through his nose and lies back, forearm draped across his eyes.
"Okay," he says finally, and then nothing else because Kyungsoo's slithering back up on his chest, pushing him into the crack between the seat cushions and the back of the sofa, pulling Chanyeol up by the shoulders so he can reach his mouth. Kyungsoo tastes cold, like peppermint gum and coffee, nicotine, tastes like desperation and like he doesn't give a fuck if someone comes in and catches them like this, which is maybe the most rock and roll thing Chanyeol can think of. He wants to write a dozen songs about this very moment, about the way it feels to have Kyungsoo's knees in between his, but there aren't any chords he can think of that can accurately capture how good it feels, so he just keeps making out with him instead. The inspiration will come, or it won't, but either way they'll have this.
shakopee, minnesota. july 20.
Another night, another motel room.
Baekhyun offers to room with Chanyeol, but Chanyeol's just tired of dancing around the subject and doesn't want to avoid Kyungsoo anymore. He knows he's been wrong about a lot of things this summer. He's wasted weeks lying still, waiting for Kyungsoo to come to him. He's starting to realize that all these moments along the way have been, in Kyungsoo's own, awkward way, an attempt to reach out.
So they check in and Kyungsoo immediately flips on the television to fill the room with noise that isn't either of them speaking. Chanyeol's grateful for it-and then he's not. He pulls the remote out of Kyungsoo's hand and mutes the sound.
"You're not going anywhere this time, are you?" Chanyeol asks warily, his gaze drilling a hole into the carpet. "You're not going to go hang out with Yura instead?" When he finally lifts his face, Kyungsoo's watching him, chewing on his lower lip. When he speaks, his voice cracks.
"Not if you don't want me to."
"Stay," Chanyeol says. "Please."
He pulls off his shirt and drops it to the floor at his feet. Kyungsoo surveys him slowly, eyes rising from Chanyeol's bare feet curling in the carpet-lingering on the buckle of his belt-up his exposed torso-and finally looks up, throat jumping as he swallows.
"What?" Chanyeol asks, trying to keep his tone gentle even though his chest is constricting with panic. They've shared a room plenty of times. Over the course of this summer, they've kissed on at least half a dozen occasions. But this is different. For one thing, they're both sober. There's no pretending they don't mean anything that happens tonight. There's no lying about it. As long as Kyungsoo keeps kissing him, Chanyeol's not going to complain, and he's going to stop overthinking it. He figures he's doing something right. The magnitude of the situation weighs heavy on him. He keeps thinking about what Sehun had said-and Baekhyun and Jongdae, and Yura-and then finally, he can't think of anything but the slope of Kyungsoo's shoulders, the pink wetness of his mouth when he licks his lips. He zeroes in on the tiny stray hairs in Kyungsoo's eyebrows and reaches out, smooths them with the pad of his thumb.
Kyungsoo shakes his head, mouth twisting as he fights off a smile. Chanyeol loves seeing that expression on Kyungsoo's face. He finds he loves it even more when he's the cause of it. He takes a step forward and slides a palm around the back of Kyungsoo's neck. The other hand splays against the side of his face, cradling it gently. Kyungsoo's eyelashes flutter drowsily as he leans into itlike a cat-grateful to be touched, but unwilling (or unsure) about further contact.
"It's late," Chanyeol says.
"We've got an early wake-up call," Kyungsoo reminds him, hand coming up to cover Chanyeol's. Or, barely-his thumb and forefinger don't quite meet when they wrap around Chanyeol's wrist.
"I know."
"Shower, then?" Kyungsoo suggests. The next two words nearly make Chanyeol swallow his tongue. "With me."
He doesn't need to ask twice.
Chanyeol feels that same sort of giddiness that fills his head after drinking a bottle of champagne by himself. Kyungsoo stares up at him, eyes wide but gentle. He keeps touching the tattoo on Chanyeol's pec, running his fingers across the flared horn of the gramophone inked near his armpit, tracing the shape of the horn's elbow with his index finger. Chanyeol kisses the top of the head and backs him up under the spray.
columbia, maryland. july 22.
They're becoming bolder with each other. The fucking is getting fierce. Chanyeol comes away with teeth marks in his fingers from Kyungsoo biting on them to stop from crying out loud. It's getting pretty ridiculous. Every chance they get they're sneaking off somewhere, Chanyeol's hand already unbuttoning the snap of Kyungsoo's jeans to shove his hand into Kyungsoo's underwear. People must have noticed by now. There's no way they could miss it. Chanyeol feels so raw and open every time he looks out of the corner of his eye and catches Kyungsoo singing along with the songs he knows by heart because he's heard them a thousand times before. He's convinced it's written on his face. One look at him and everyone will know everything.
But this is just too good to ignore. Kyungsoo's hand on the back of Chanyeol's neck when he crouches down behind an amp to suck him off, the sweltering air of the trailer when he dry humps him to release during an early load-in. Chanyeol knows he fucking stinks, that he smells like sex and sweat, jizz and dirt and sunscreen, but he doesn't really care that it's been three days since he took a shower. Kyungsoo smells just as bad. His hair's so greasy it's starting to hold its own style, shaved at the sides, scruffy and starting to grow in. He's got a stubborn pimple on his forehead and his face shines with sweat and oil but despite all that, he's the best thing Chanyeol's ever seen.
virginia beach, virginia. july 23.
It's so hot that Chanyeol receives word that over two hundred concertgoers are being treated for heatstroke. He believes it. There's no oxygen backstage whatsoever. After coming from the cold-ass, rainy-ass Northeast, this feels like he's entered some circle of hell.
When he's not working, Chanyeol follows Yura around to the various stages. She uses his height to her full advantage and lets him blaze a trail through the mass of sweaty teenage bodies, waving her AP pass when some snot-nosed little shit tries to give her trouble or step on her foot.
"How are things with Kyungsoo?" she asks casually when they're between sets at the main stage, hanging out at the barricade. Chanyeol lifts a shoulder to his ear but he can't stop the grin from creeping across his face.
atlanta, georgia. july 24.
Chanyeol's backstage waiting for the Assholes to finish up their last song when it happens. He keeps replaying it in his mind afterwards and he still can't quite figure out what goes wrong. Yixing jumps, knees tucked to his chest, suspended in the air for a moment to land on a downbeat. He's done it a thousand times before with no incident. This time, number one thousand and one, he lands awkwardly on the back of his heels and stumbles. He manages to stay upright, guitar clanging against his thigh but otherwise unharmed. Chanyeol's glad-the Les Paul with the blue swirl finish Yixing's got right now is one of his favorites, and he'd be really upset to see it damaged.
Unfortunately, Yixing's not so lucky. His face contorts with pain and his hand drops away from the fretboard, a flurry of smudged notes trailing off into feedback, and then nothing. Baekhyun notices immediately when Yixing can't stand up straight and waves Lu Han off to stop the song.
"Shit," Kyungsoo says, peeling out from where he'd been standing, a few feet behind Chanyeol, "something's really wrong. Get the medic."
By the time Chanyeol finishes packing the trailer and gets there, Yixing's playing cards with Lu Han and Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo's pacing tight circles at the end of a corridor, twirling an unlit cigarette in between his index and middle finger. Chanyeol tries to touch him but Kyungsoo steps out of reach, shoulder blades anchored against the tiled wall, body language radiating don't touch, not now.
"He's gonna need surgery," Kyungsoo says, his eyes dull. "His leg's numb."
Chanyeol swallows hard against the burning bile in his throat. "But he was fine this morning-"
"Slipped a disc." The cigarette slows to a stop. He taps it on his upper lip. "He's been jumping around too much."
Around them, the hospital bustles. Nurses crisscrossing the hallway from room to room, pages ringing out over the loudspeaker above. Kyungsoo stays silent, his eyes dark and solemn. Chanyeol hesitates and then finally allows himself to put his hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder.
"He'll be okay."
"Yeah." Kyungsoo smiles grimly. "It's over, though. The summer's over. We'll have to pull out of the rest of the dates."
The sound of Baekhyun's voice makes both of them jump. He comes around the corner, hands buried deep in his back pockets. The way his shoulders are drawn up to his ears almost makes him look shy, although Baekhyun's never been shy a day in his life. "Why can't Chanyeol do it?"
"Why can't Chanyeol do what?"
"Fill in for Yixing. He knows all the music. He can do it."
Chanyeol sees a flash in Baekhyun's eyes, one of earnest desperation. He wants so badly to prove himself this summer, and things keep getting in his way. It's true that Chanyeol's got all their repertoire down. At this point, he could probably fill in for any of the members if they were missing. But it feels too strange, knowing Yixing's going to be in bed and away from the band for any length of time.
Kyungsoo tilts his head. He pins Chanyeol with a thoughtful stare, lower lip sucked in underneath his top one. "I hadn't thought about that. Would it be too much? We could-I could help-with your real job."
Chanyeol hesitates.
"It was Yixing's idea," Baekhyun explains, hand cupping Chanyeol's elbow to offer him encouragement. "He said it the minute they came back with the results."
Chanyeol looks between Baekhyun's face and Kyungsoo's and he knows that for different reasons, they both feel like this tour is their last shot to prove something. He's the only thing standing in between that. He's the only one that can salvage a success from the wreckage.
And besides, he doesn't want the summer to be over yet, either.
So it's settled: Chanyeol will fill in as the Assholes' guitarist for the remaining nine dates. He'd normally be over the moon at a break like this-this is a big fucking deal, especially when he's been working behind the scenes for so long. But Yixing's hospitalization puts a damper on things. Chanyeol sits with Yixing for half an hour and lets him talk him through the entire set, song by song. Chanyeol knows it by heart, but he can see it means a lot to Yixing to know that everything's being taken care of. Chanyeol takes notes on the backs of receipts in his pocket and promises to text Yixing every evening after their set to let him know how it went.
They have to leave Yixing behind in Atlanta. The bus is already running behind waiting for them, and they'll never make it in time if they don't leave. It's a subdued ride, knowing one of their bandmates is lying in a hospital bed tonight instead of up in his bunk. His parents are due to arrive sometime tomorrow, whenever their flight gets in, so he won't be alone for long, but it's little comfort. Yixing's absence is felt anyway.
After lights out, Chanyeol lies there for half an hour listening to Baekhyun toss and turn. After he finally settles in with a rough cough, a familiar face peers around the edge of Chanyeol's curtain, pale and morose. Kyungsoo crawls up his legs as carefully as he can manage, one finger pressing to his lips to keep Chanyeol from waking Baekhyun. It's a tight fit, two men in a bunk barely designed to fit one, especially when Chanyeol's one of them. Chanyeol pulls the curtain back to give them some privacy and they both lie still for a moment, listening to the sounds of the bus's engine rumbling underneath them. Baekhyun's making quiet whimpering noises in his sleep, and Sehun's snoring is loud enough to wake the dead. Kyungsoo tilts his head, breathing noisily, and then his lips part against the corner of Chanyeol's jaw. Chanyeol holds his breath, wondering if he's going to take it a step further again.
"What's up?" Chanyeol whispers after the longest minute of his life, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible when there's someone breathing in his ear. Kyungsoo nuzzles at the spot where his lips had been and sighs.
"This was supposed to be a good summer," he murmurs. "Why hasn't anything worked the way it was supposed to?"
"It hasn't been all bad," Chanyeol says reasonably, patting Kyungsoo's shoulder, pulling him just a little closer.
"You're right, it hasn't. And it's not over yet," Kyungsoo agrees, yawning softly so that his lips brush against the lobe of Chanyeol's ear. Chanyeol wonders if he-if this-counts as one of Kyungsoo's good things.
st. petersburg, florida. july 25.
Chanyeol doesn't know how to feel the next morning during the impromptu rehearsal. It feels good to get the songs under his fingers again, to work as a team to make music instead of bustling around making sure everything's plugged in and functioning. He watches Sehun and Kyungsoo onstage and thinks about Yixing sitting in the hospital bed and can't smile, even though inside he's bursting at the seams with excitement.
Baekhyun cons him into putting on eyeliner and makes him change out of his old Role Model t-shirt into a sleeveless shirt with the arm-holes ripped so huge he's basically wearing a pinney. "You've got those tattoos," Baekhyun says reasonably, stepping back to admire the precise wingtip he's just drawn on Chanyeol's left eyelid. "You paid good money for them and you're just going to cover them up."
Kyungsoo has to physically restrain Chanyeol from going onstage to check Sehun's handiwork. "I took care of everything," Kyungsoo assures him, squinting up against the sun into Chanyeol's face. "What did you do to yourself?"
"Baekhyun."
"I figured." His thumb comes away black with mascara. "There. You don't need all this."
"Thanks," Chanyeol says, grinning, left hand borrowing Kyungsoo's wrist as a makeshift fretboard, fingers flying through the opening song until Kyungsoo yanks his hand away and complains that it tickles.
"You ready?" Kyungsoo asks, looking at his watch. Lu Han comes by and offers Chanyeol a silent fist bump of solidarity on his way to his kit. Baekhyun's not far behind, bouncing around on one foot, then the other, swinging his arms around to loosen up like he's about to swim a relay race.
"As I'll ever be."
"You'll be fine." The crowd erupts in a huge roar when they see Lu Han emerge onstage. Chanyeol swallows hard and looks down at Kyungsoo, smiles thinly. "Don't fuck it up," Kyungsoo teases, and shoves him the final two feet onstage.
Performing's a funny thing. Chanyeol's body definitely remembers this, but he's never played for a crowd this big before. He's done a couple outdoor shows-small festivals, though, nothing with headliners and multiple stages, nothing of this magnitude. It's electrifying. The pulse in his veins throbs in time with Lu Han's cymbal hits and he catches Baekhyun watching him out of the corner of his eye and remembers. He looks out at all the faces in the crowd, the sea of hands thrown in the air, reaching out for Baekhyun, who swings the mic up his forearm and leans out over the pit so the crowd can sing along with the chorus. Yura's up front, crushed against the gate. She throws him the thumbs up every time he catches her eye, which is pretty often. He's really glad she's here for this. She's always been supportive of his career behind the scenes and he knows despite the awkwardness recently she'll always, always have his back-but it's reassuring to look out and see family.
He's so lost in the music, fingers on autopilot, that it doesn't even register with him that the set's over until Lu Han's ambling over to the edge of the stage to toss out his sticks, clapping Chanyeol on the back in congratulations. Chanyeol's shirt is soaked through with sweat from the oppressive Florida heat, stuck to his skin where the guitar strap had been. He can only see Kyungsoo's smile, waiting for him in the wings. So he comes offstage, away from the light, and dives right into Kyungsoo's open arms.
west palm beach, florida. july 26.
It's decided that Tao will take over the Assholes merch table for the remaining tour dates. Truth be told, he's doing a better job than Sehun ever did. He actually sells out of the rest of the women's sizes in both of their t-shirts and the first EP, keeps coming back to Kyungsoo asking if there's any more hidden somewhere. There's not, but it's a nice thought.
"We should steal him," Kyungsoo says, when he knows Jongdae's within earshot. Jongdae scowls.
"I'll trade you the roadie for the merch kid." He smiles slyly. "Your old roadie, I mean."
Kyungsoo actually appears to consider it for half a second. Chanyeol picks him up and tosses him over his shoulder to carry him away, lumberjack style.
"Okay, okay!" he laughs, pounding his fists on Chanyeol's back. "You can stay. Put me down!"
For all the jokes, the replacement roadie's doing just fine. Sehun is a surprisingly quick study, although Chanyeol realizes, halfway through explaining load-in, that Yixing's been talking Sehun through the ins and outs of the equipment for the better part of the summer. His hands are steady and sure, wrists cocked perfectly with the sticks as he rolls through Lu Han's drum set, pausing for a moment to check the placement of the microphone for the kick drum. He looks good. Professional. It's definitely a better fit than sticking him behind a table all day.
Chanyeol tries to offer assistance when he sees Sehun emerge with a pedal underneath his arm. "That goes-"
"I know," Sehun says impatiently, his mouth pressed into a sharp line like a knife's edge. Sehun's never looked frigid or businesslike before. Honestly, it's a little frightening. Chanyeol backs off, right into Kyungsoo, who's waiting in the wings and laughing.
"You've been replaced," he says. Chanyeol muscles him into a dark corner behind the tower of amps and stands there, mouth hovering less than an inch from Kyungsoo's. Being close like this, breathing each other's air while the wet heat wraps around them like a blanket, makes it seem so much more intimate. Like there aren't a hundred people milling around backstage who are probably watching the entire spectacle. Chanyeol doesn't care much about that right now, though. He'd never be able to keep Kyungsoo a secret forever.
"I hope not," Chanyeol rumbles, and lets Kyungsoo come to him.
orlando, florida. july 27.
Chanyeol's alone in the venue bathroom at the fairgrounds taking a piss when Kyungsoo comes in. Chanyeol glances up and sees him in the mirror, hears the gritty click of the deadbolt sliding into place, and realizes a moment too late that he's going to be having sex right now. Frissons of excitement pop down his spine like electric shocks when he sees the dark look in Kyungsoo's eyes, when Kyungsoo pulls off his shirt and drops it on the floor. Chanyeol feels like a teenager with the way they can't keep their hands off each other, but it's like talking about it opened the flood gates. Years of sexual tension built up and released into reckless decisions, like when Kyungsoo unsnaps Chanyeol's jeans and pushes him back up on the sink countertop. Chanyeol winces at the puddle he's sitting in, but he's so ready for this.
There's also a bit of avoidance. Chanyeol doesn't want to think about Yixing's surgery. He obviously feels fucking terrible every time he floats the idea of moving to work for a new band, but loyalty doesn't pay the bills. So he focuses on this instead, pushing the tiny bottle of KY (purchased at a gas station for like $3 more than he'd pay at Walmart) into Kyungsoo's palm and guiding Kyungsoo's hand to his ass.
Kyungsoo produces a condom from his wallet and rolls it down his shaft with one hand, mouth attached to Chanyeol's neck. Being up on this countertop makes him the perfect height for Kyungsoo to sink all the way inside and lick a stripe up Chanyeol's throat, teeth scraping gently at his Adam's apple. Chanyeol closes his eyes and focuses on the way the stinging stretch softens into pleasure each time Kyungsoo pulls out and returns. The lube makes a soft, wet sucking noise, over-loud in the echoing bathroom. There's faint music outside, the dull roar of jumbled conversation, but the loudest thing is just their heavy breathing.
It's hot as fuck in here but the sweat on Chanyeol's skin feels fucking cold against the air. He shifts, slides himself further down to allow Kyungsoo to push deeper. Kyungsoo folds him in half up against the mirror, gathering him in by the thighs as leverage as he thrusts in. Chanyeol grabs hold of Kyungsoo's face and forces him to make eye contact before he pulls him in for a fierce kiss.
Eagerly, Kyungsoo meets him half-way, rasping, "You feel really good," Chanyeol's bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Chanyeol can't stop babbling. "Shit, yeah, please," he whines, legs spread wide around Kyungsoo's hips. Kyungsoo laughs, breathless with exertion, and pushes Chanyeol's hair off his forehead to kiss his hairline. Chanyeol leans forward and bites Kyungsoo hard on the neck, the shoulder, teeth sinking into the soft flesh, leaving dark pink marks in his wake. The mirror rattles, and a particularly hard push from Kyungsoo has Chanyeol slipping halfway into the sink as he struggles to keep his balance, knocking the hot water tap on as he catches himself and steadies.
Kyungsoo laughs and drops a hand from Chanyeol's leg in favor of wrapping it around his cock. If jerking off were an art, Kyungsoo would be fucking Picasso. So many things he does with his thumbs, rapid firmly-gripped strokes, relentless twists, even introduces his mouth when he can manage to reach, although he's obviously not too eager to get Chanyeol off right away because his pace slows and his eyes roll back in his head. He's buried inside Chanyeol with this small smirk in the corners of his mouth. He approaches Chanyeol the same way he'd approach an event-analytical, able to assess the best way to get the job done. He doesn't-can't, really-smile until the jizz starts squelching through his fingers. Then the composure of normally-stoic Do Kyungsoo cracks and his head drops forward onto Chanyeol's sternum and Chanyeol coaxes him through his release, stroking Kyungsoo's hair, mouthing kisses on the tip of his nose, his eyelids, biting him on the earlobe just to hear him whimper.
They stay like that for a while, still connected, until Kyungsoo softens and slips out. Chanyeol's back is stiff and he's got the impression of the tap handle pressed into his skin and somebody's banging on the door outside. Has been for a while. The bathroom's fucking disgusting, probably hepatitis on every surface, but Chanyeol's so overcome that it's all he can do not to push Kyungsoo against the stall divider and do it all over again.
charlotte, north carolina. july 28.
"So I've been thinking," Baekhyun begins, and Chanyeol looks up from the guitar he's restringing. Coming from Baekhyun, that's never a good conversation starter. It always ends with something outlandishly batshit, like we should incorporate pyrotechnics into the next tour! or how about some backup dancers with nipple tassels. Chanyeol's instantly on alert, ready to shut Baekhyun down. "It's been really cool having you play with us. I forgot how much I really missed it."
"Yes?"
"And Yixing's going to be laid up for a while with this back thing."
"Yes," Chanyeol says suspiciously. "He will." Yixing's been texting all of them non-stop since they left. They're in Charlotte today, which is marginally closer than they've been, but it could be halfway across the world when they don't have enough downtime to make the drive and make it back in time to rejoin the tour. Chanyeol doesn't want this gig full-time and he's scared that's going to be Baekhyun's suggestion. There's no way he can be Yixing-it doesn't matter how well Chanyeol knows the songs, they're not his, so he'll never get them the way Yixing does. Nobody can be Yixing except Yixing.
Baekhyun looks over his shoulder to ensure they're alone. "Jongdae and I have been working on a side project. And you should get in on it."
Chanyeol's spent the whole summer assuming their 'side project' was just code for fucking, but Jongdae comes over on the bus with his laptop to play the three songs they've already written. Chanyeol watches Baekhyun curiously out of the corner of his eye, sees his hand slide up the back of Jongdae's shirt to rest protectively on the small of his back. Okay. So it's obviously a little bit of both.
They're jamming when Kyungsoo comes back. Chanyeol's playing over the top of the track and Jongdae's humming along, nodding with approval every time Chanyeol does something he really likes. Baekhyun's sitting back, hand still up Jongdae's shirt, shit-eating grin plastered across his face. The song's a lot different than the stuff Yixing usually writes for them-less straightforward pop-punk, more r&b influences at the edges and in the chord changes. No way this would ever get them mistaken as a Motion City cover band. Kyungsoo stands watching half-way down the aisle, leaning against the bunks and listening. He's got an odd little smile on his face and his eyes are shining.
"What's this?" he asks when the song's winding down.
"Don't be mad," says Baekhyun. "It's just for fun."
"No, I'm not mad. It's good."
"Even with a traitor in our midst?" Baekhyun asks, laughing when Jongdae squawks and elbows him.
"Even with the traitor." Kyungsoo pushes off the bunk post with his shoulders and comes into the sitting area. "Chanyeol, have you showed them the stuff you've been working on?"
Chanyeol's ears go red. "No."
"Shit, you've been holding out on us," Jongdae says. Kyungsoo's one step ahead of them. Squirrels into Chanyeol's bunk and comes back with his laptop, boots it up and types in the password as comfortably as if it was his own machine. Baekhyun must notice the level of familiarity because he grins, wide and knowing, but wisely doesn't say anything. Chanyeol slumps back against the couch and covers his eyes.
"No, don't." His heart's pounding crazily with anticipation, worse than getting onstage with the Assholes, worse than the first few times he kissed Kyungsoo for real, worse than anything. He waits for the furniture to swallow him. It doesn't happen.
"It's good," Kyungsoo insists, and presses play.
nashville, tennessee. july 29.
Yixing calls with an update. Surgery's scheduled for the following Wednesday. He says he's fine being there alone but Lu Han insists on booking a ticket to come out and stay with him while he recovers.
"You're going to need someone to help you when you fall in the toilet," Lu Han says solemnly. "Grandpa."
"I'm going to be out for a while," Yixing says, genuinely apologetic, like he fucked up his back on purpose or something. "I'm really sorry, guys. I know we were supposed to tour with the new stuff for a while. It's going to kill the momentum."
"Don't worry," Baekhyun promises. "AP already killed the momentum. There's always a place for you. We'll be ready to pick up where we left off whenever you get back."
milwaukee, wisconsin. july 30.
It's not ideal to hook up in the trailer but it's the only place where they're guaranteed a little peace and quiet, even if it means hyperventilating from the lack of oxygen. At least the head rush makes the orgasms incredible. Kyungsoo slumps against an amp after they're done, sticky and covered with semen, his eyes wandering and unfocused. Chanyeol's pretty woozy too, but he has enough coordination and sense to clean them off with his discarded t-shirt. Kyungsoo stops him mid-wipe and grabs his chin to kiss him, soft and sweet.
"What was that for?" Chanyeol asks.
"You did really well up there tonight," Kyungsoo says. "Like a real rock star."
"Does that make you my groupie?" Chanyeol asks, eyebrows waggling. Kyungsoo shoves the dirty shirt in Chanyeol's face and laughs at Chanyeol's angry Donald Duck spluttering.
bonner springs, kansas. july 31.
Kyungsoo emerges from the bathroom with his glasses perched on his nose. He hates having to wear them-an old, wire-rimmed pair he's been sporting since high school, and even then only when he was having trouble getting his contacts in. He cringes when he sees Chanyeol's still awake and pushes the glasses up his nose.
"I thought you'd be asleep."
Chanyeol shakes his head, pats the empty, Kyungsoo-sized space on the mattress next to him. The second bed is still perfectly made, sheets stretched taut into hospital corners. It'll stay that way, if Chanyeol has anything to say about it. After yesterday he just needs more, needs it again, needs it badly. "Come here."
Kyungsoo crawls on his hands and knees to pause, suspended over Chanyeol. Chanyeol leans up and closes the space, kissing him. He could do this forever. Kyungsoo's mouth is soft and warm. He makes these quiet snuffling noises when he's happy that are so fucking cute that Chanyeol takes Kyungsoo's face between his palms and kisses him harder because he doesn't know what else to do with himself.
"Early morning tomorrow," Kyungsoo says when they break apart, his lips puffy and slick with Chanyeol's spit. He looks annoyed, but keeps nipping at Chanyeol's chin, making no effort to stop where this is headed. Chanyeol doesn't want to think about how tired he's going to be tomorrow morning, just the way Kyungsoo shivers and deliberately rocks his hips into Chanyeol's until Chanyeol groans out loud.
Somehow they end up with Kyungsoo sitting in the desk chair, leaning back with his dick in hand, watching Chanyeol finger himself. Kyungsoo's eyes are dark, mouth parted just slightly, and every time Chanyeol gasps out loud Kyungsoo squeezes himself and his eyes roll back in his head. Chanyeol notices the fine beads of sweat forming on Kyungsoo's forehead and gestures with his free hand.
"Come here," he says. Kyungsoo shakes his head.
"You come here." Back arched, he pushes himself back up into a seated position with the top of his head against the chair. Chanyeol's hand slows.
"What do you want me to do? I can't-I'll hurt you. Just come here."
"You're not going to break me," Kyungsoo says, eyebrow arching. There's an odd, steely quality to his voice that makes Chanyeol's spine snap to attention. He's not being Kyungsoo right now but Manager Do, expecting Chanyeol to meet all of his demands. "Do it."
Chanyeol's mouth goes dry. He's got six inches and a good number of pounds on Kyungsoo. There's no way this can end well-but Kyungsoo wants him to sit in his lap, so he does. Tentatively at first, one hand gripping the arm of the chair. Kyungsoo guides him down gently until he's sheathed all the way inside, then smooths a hand up Chanyeol's ribcage in silent praise.
In this position, Chanyeol's got to do most of the work. It helps that he's got long legs. It's easy to hook his ankles around the legs of the chair and push himself up, up on his toes, until he almost feels Kyungsoo slip free, and then sinks back down on his dick again in one smooth slide. Kyungsoo rests his forehead against Chanyeol's back, hands wandering up from Chanyeol's nipples and back down to tug at his pubic hair, always just managing to avoid Chanyeol's dick. It's frustrating-amazing, but frustrating. Each yank, each pinch, sends a prickle of pain shooting straight to his cock, which bobs, neglected, near his thighs.
"Told you-you wouldn't-crush me," Kyungsoo pants. He drops a few open-mouth kisses across Chanyeol's sweaty skin, tip of his tongue tracing a straight line up the terraced vertebrae of Chanyeol's spine.
Chanyeo rises up on the balls of his feet, one hand braced on the wall, and bounces gently, testing it. The slightest movement from Chanyeol's body has Kyungsoo breaking out in a sweat, writhing underneath him, grabbing the flesh of Chanyeol's thighs by the fistful. Chanyeol retaliates by retreating a fraction, only to inch right back. He's still unused to the sensation of Kyungsoo inside of him, but the stretch isn't unpleasant. After a while, the sting at the rim of his asshole fades away and it's just a dull pressure, steady and rising, like a bicycle pump.
After a particularly enthusiastic thrust, Kyungsoo gasps and swears, the blunt ends of his fingertips digging into Chanyeol's hips to try and pull him closer. If he had fingernails, they probably would have broken the skin by now.
"What was that?" Chanyeol asks. Kyungsoo thrusts his hips as hard as he can, trying to catch up to Chanyeol, who hovers above him, balanced on his toes just a few inches out of reach.
"Fuck-Chanyeol-please," Kyungsoo moans. "I need you-to-just, please."
Chanyeol's delighted that the tables have finally turned, that Kyungsoo's the one falling apart because of him. Kyungsoo's arms wrap around Chanyeol's chest to hold him steady, keep him grounded. His thighs tense underneath Chanyeol, cock kicking. When Chanyeol follows, his vision sparks into pinpricks of white, his body clenched and bowing like a cattail.
salt lake city, utah. august 2.
Salt Lake City, Utah. The beer's weak but the show's pretty good, all things considered. Chanyeol's so fucking ready to be done with the summer. He can't imagine how Baekhyun and Lu Han and Jongdae feel. They've been throwing everything they have into the performances every single day and it shows, but he thinks back to Baekhyun's temper tantrum under the shower and his subsequent threats to quit, and Chanyeol finally understands that making it big doesn't always mean feeling like a rock star. Right now, he feels like the tour bus backed over him once and then drove over him again for good measure.
They're gathered in the back of the bus. Yura's there too, listening in on their meeting about the special project. She's sitting next to-or rather, cuddling up against-Chanyeol. After a long hot day in the sun doing coverage for the AP blog, she's exhausted and dozing lightly, her chin resting on his shoulder. Chanyeol holds still, spine stiff as a board, trying not to move around too much and disturb her.
"So... we're really gonna do this?" Chanyeol asks, flicking a guitar pick at Kyungsoo's face with his free hand. It bounces off Kyungsoo's cheek and ricochets into his outstretched hands. He scowls and flings it at the floor.
"I think it's the best option," Baekhyun says. Next to him, Jongdae slings his feet into Baekhyun's lap, dirty Vans and all.
"You guys need to wait for Yixing to get better anyway," he says. "Let's have some fun."
"What about your band?"
Jongdae shrugs. "I've got time. I can do both."
"Yixing said he'd produce it," Lu Han confirms, tucking his legs underneath himself to sit lotus-style. Kyungsoo hovers at the cabinets, opening them one by one, trying to find a bag of chips or crackers that hasn't been completely decimated and left to grow stale. He finds some goldfish crackers on his third try. They look pretty questionable from where Chanyeol's sitting, but Kyungsoo tips a handful of them into his mouth anyway.
"You think the fans can handle it?"
"The fans will be so stoked their heads will explode," Baekhyun says solemnly. "We have to do this." Jongdae's not paying attention to Baekhyun, which gives him the perfect opportunity to untie his shoelaces and knot them back together.
Chanyeol hasn't seen Baekhyun this enthusiastic about making music in a long time. It's like the fire's been lit underneath him again. Chanyeol supposes it's easy to get bored when it's the same thing day in and day out, when he barely has a hand in the creative process behind the songwriting. Baekhyun's spent the past five years singing someone else's songs, telling someone else's story. It's not that he's overstayed his welcome-Baekhyun has definitely made his position as lead singer in Fistful of Assholes his own, but there's something to be said for starting fresh every once in a while, just to remind yourself you can.
Kyungsoo sits down on the end of the bench next to Yura. She looks up, blinking sleepily, and hoists herself up into his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck. Chanyeol catches it out of the corner of his eye, the way she lifts her head to whisper something in Kyungsoo's ear. Earlier this summer it would have driven him crazy, but now he just focuses on the protective way Kyungsoo holds her so she doesn't fall and feels relieved that someone else is taking care of his sister as much as he wants to all the time. Kyungsoo throws his head back and laughs at whatever she's saying.
"What?" Chanyeol asks warily. That's never a good laugh. It's the one Kyungsoo always uses when Chanyeol's done something really stupid. Yura looks at him and smiles.
"Nothing."
"Nothing," Kyungsoo echoes, glancing at Yura. He manages to hold his straight face for all of five seconds before he cracks up again. Chanyeol's glad to see he's happy, too. The summer had definitely taken a turn for the worse, but everything seems to be on track now, and he can't really ask for much more than that.
denver, colorado. august 3.
Last day of the tour. Chanyeol feels strangely renewed, like it's the first time all over again. Baekhyun blames it on the mountain air, but maybe it's the FaceTime call with Yixing they'd had moments before going onstage, or the prospect of finally heading into the studio in the fall.
"What's going to happen?" Chanyeol asks Kyungsoo later, when it's just the two of them cleaning up the equipment. Kyungsoo coils an extension cord around his palm and elbow, throwing his whole body into it as he methodically wraps it around, hoisting it up over his head as he works. He raises an eyebrow at the question, baffled.
"What's going to happen to what? The band?"
Chanyeol is too chickenshit to say 'with us', so he shrugs and busies himself with rearranging the guitar cases. He doesn't have to wait long before Kyungsoo's hand comes to rest on the crook of his elbow, tugging at him until he turns around. The way his eyes glow in the low light, cheeks peaked into a broad smile. He doesn't have to say anything for Chanyeol to know that they're not over, even if the summer is. Chanyeol's glad. He's never liked the idea of the people in his life being temporary. The friends he has he aims to keep forever. Double goes for Kyungsoo.
"So," Chanyeol says, inching closer. "It's not a fling."
Kyungsoo shakes his head. His eyes flutter shut instinctively, face tilted up to accept a kiss that misses the broad heart shape of his mouth and lands on his chin. His laughter is bright and loud, wiping Chanyeol's saliva off his face.
"Don't you need to be practicing for this upcoming album of yours?" he teases, ducking the second attempt. Chanyeol is undeterred. He reels him in by the hips and finally pins him underneath his mouth, hoping Kyungsoo realizes everything he's trying to say.
If he doesn't get the picture, though, that's alright. Chanyeol will tell him every day. He'll even put it in a song.
tinley park, illinois. july 19.
Kyungsoo storms into the bus right when Chanyeol's trying to take a nap on the back couch, and straddles his lap. Chanyeol can hear the faint sounds of All Time Low's set in the distance, muffled by the walls of the bus. Kyungsoo smells like he's been standing out in the sunshine for too long, sort of hot and sour, and he seems flustered. Chanyeol lets him inch up his chest until Kyungsoo gets to the bare skin of Chanyeol's throat and leans in to kiss it.
"Stop," Chanyeol croaks, pushing Kyungsoo away. Kyungsoo frowns, fingers hooked in the belt loops of Chanyeol's jeans. He tries to move against the resistance and push back a little bit but Chanyeol's too strong. A beat. "I'm not Yura."
Kyungsoo freezes and blinks slowly, tongue wetting his lips as he considers what's just been said to him. "I know," he says slowly.
"You can't-we can't keep doing this when I know it's just because we look alike. It's the hair, isn't it? Because I didn't get a haircut before we left, and she did. And we always got mistaken for twins when we were growing up, ask Baekhyun, it's a pretty common mistake-"
Kyungsoo's eyebrows lift to his hairline. "Chanyeol. Are you stupid?" He sits up, shaking his head. "You think I don't know the difference between a woman's body and-you? This?" He waves his arms in a sweeping gesture between them. His hand moves so fast he slaps Chanyeol in the chest. "You're not that much alike."
"Then why?"
"You think maybe it's because I'm doing it on purpose because it's you?" Kyungsoo's eyes widen, chin jutting out obstinately.
Chanyeol opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. "I. What."
"You know, you could have asked me if you were confused."
"But we were working," Chanyeol says feebly. "I thought you were blowing off steam-and you'd get mad and stop if I said anything." His hand covers his mouth. It sounds stupid as hell now that he's saying it out loud.
"I'm kind of weirded out you thought I thought you were your sister."
"You just said 'thought' a whole lot," Chanyeol says dumbly, for lack of anything constructive to say. You're right. It's weird. He buries his fists in his pockets. Something digs into his knuckles, rigid and sharp. He fishes it out-a bright green Tortex guitar pick. Runs his fingernail along the scalloped edge, listening to the quiet clicking.
"There were no thoughts. You didn't actually think at all, did you?" Kyungsoo's face scrunches. He gets up off Chanyeol's legs and sits back on the neighboring seat, just out of Chanyeol's reach. The bus is vibrating, humming very quietly with all the different bass lines from all the different bands playing at once. Chanyeol's not sure if that's what's giving him this dull headache or if it's the sad look on Kyungsoo's face, but either way it feels like someone's taken a sledgehammer to the bridge of his nose.
"Don't go away," Chanyeol says. "I just wanted..."
Kyungsoo waits. "You wanted what," he prompts softly when Chanyeol can't find the words to continue. "Tell me."
"I can't tell what this is. Or if it's a good idea."
"It's a stupid idea. And you're an idiot," Kyungsoo says frankly. He takes the guitar pick from Chanyeol and turns it around in his fingers, holds it up to the light to inspect it. "You work for me." He tosses the guitar pick and snatches it out of the air.
"With you."
"I don't make that distinction." Kyungsoo's smile is askew on his face, higher on his left side than his right, bubbling forth even though he's obviously doing his best to suppress it. Chanyeol laughs through his nose and lies back, forearm draped across his eyes.
"Okay," he says finally, and then nothing else because Kyungsoo's slithering back up on his chest, pushing him into the crack between the seat cushions and the back of the sofa, pulling Chanyeol up by the shoulders so he can reach his mouth. Kyungsoo tastes cold, like peppermint gum and coffee, nicotine, tastes like desperation and like he doesn't give a fuck if someone comes in and catches them like this, which is maybe the most rock and roll thing Chanyeol can think of. He wants to write a dozen songs about this very moment, about the way it feels to have Kyungsoo's knees in between his, but there aren't any chords he can think of that can accurately capture how good it feels, so he just keeps making out with him instead. The inspiration will come, or it won't, but either way they'll have this.
shakopee, minnesota. july 20.
Another night, another motel room.
Baekhyun offers to room with Chanyeol, but Chanyeol's just tired of dancing around the subject and doesn't want to avoid Kyungsoo anymore. He knows he's been wrong about a lot of things this summer. He's wasted weeks lying still, waiting for Kyungsoo to come to him. He's starting to realize that all these moments along the way have been, in Kyungsoo's own, awkward way, an attempt to reach out.
So they check in and Kyungsoo immediately flips on the television to fill the room with noise that isn't either of them speaking. Chanyeol's grateful for it-and then he's not. He pulls the remote out of Kyungsoo's hand and mutes the sound.
"You're not going anywhere this time, are you?" Chanyeol asks warily, his gaze drilling a hole into the carpet. "You're not going to go hang out with Yura instead?" When he finally lifts his face, Kyungsoo's watching him, chewing on his lower lip. When he speaks, his voice cracks.
"Not if you don't want me to."
"Stay," Chanyeol says. "Please."
He pulls off his shirt and drops it to the floor at his feet. Kyungsoo surveys him slowly, eyes rising from Chanyeol's bare feet curling in the carpet-lingering on the buckle of his belt-up his exposed torso-and finally looks up, throat jumping as he swallows.
"What?" Chanyeol asks, trying to keep his tone gentle even though his chest is constricting with panic. They've shared a room plenty of times. Over the course of this summer, they've kissed on at least half a dozen occasions. But this is different. For one thing, they're both sober. There's no pretending they don't mean anything that happens tonight. There's no lying about it. As long as Kyungsoo keeps kissing him, Chanyeol's not going to complain, and he's going to stop overthinking it. He figures he's doing something right. The magnitude of the situation weighs heavy on him. He keeps thinking about what Sehun had said-and Baekhyun and Jongdae, and Yura-and then finally, he can't think of anything but the slope of Kyungsoo's shoulders, the pink wetness of his mouth when he licks his lips. He zeroes in on the tiny stray hairs in Kyungsoo's eyebrows and reaches out, smooths them with the pad of his thumb.
Kyungsoo shakes his head, mouth twisting as he fights off a smile. Chanyeol loves seeing that expression on Kyungsoo's face. He finds he loves it even more when he's the cause of it. He takes a step forward and slides a palm around the back of Kyungsoo's neck. The other hand splays against the side of his face, cradling it gently. Kyungsoo's eyelashes flutter drowsily as he leans into itlike a cat-grateful to be touched, but unwilling (or unsure) about further contact.
"It's late," Chanyeol says.
"We've got an early wake-up call," Kyungsoo reminds him, hand coming up to cover Chanyeol's. Or, barely-his thumb and forefinger don't quite meet when they wrap around Chanyeol's wrist.
"I know."
"Shower, then?" Kyungsoo suggests. The next two words nearly make Chanyeol swallow his tongue. "With me."
He doesn't need to ask twice.
Chanyeol feels that same sort of giddiness that fills his head after drinking a bottle of champagne by himself. Kyungsoo stares up at him, eyes wide but gentle. He keeps touching the tattoo on Chanyeol's pec, running his fingers across the flared horn of the gramophone inked near his armpit, tracing the shape of the horn's elbow with his index finger. Chanyeol kisses the top of the head and backs him up under the spray.
columbia, maryland. july 22.
They're becoming bolder with each other. The fucking is getting fierce. Chanyeol comes away with teeth marks in his fingers from Kyungsoo biting on them to stop from crying out loud. It's getting pretty ridiculous. Every chance they get they're sneaking off somewhere, Chanyeol's hand already unbuttoning the snap of Kyungsoo's jeans to shove his hand into Kyungsoo's underwear. People must have noticed by now. There's no way they could miss it. Chanyeol feels so raw and open every time he looks out of the corner of his eye and catches Kyungsoo singing along with the songs he knows by heart because he's heard them a thousand times before. He's convinced it's written on his face. One look at him and everyone will know everything.
But this is just too good to ignore. Kyungsoo's hand on the back of Chanyeol's neck when he crouches down behind an amp to suck him off, the sweltering air of the trailer when he dry humps him to release during an early load-in. Chanyeol knows he fucking stinks, that he smells like sex and sweat, jizz and dirt and sunscreen, but he doesn't really care that it's been three days since he took a shower. Kyungsoo smells just as bad. His hair's so greasy it's starting to hold its own style, shaved at the sides, scruffy and starting to grow in. He's got a stubborn pimple on his forehead and his face shines with sweat and oil but despite all that, he's the best thing Chanyeol's ever seen.
virginia beach, virginia. july 23.
It's so hot that Chanyeol receives word that over two hundred concertgoers are being treated for heatstroke. He believes it. There's no oxygen backstage whatsoever. After coming from the cold-ass, rainy-ass Northeast, this feels like he's entered some circle of hell.
When he's not working, Chanyeol follows Yura around to the various stages. She uses his height to her full advantage and lets him blaze a trail through the mass of sweaty teenage bodies, waving her AP pass when some snot-nosed little shit tries to give her trouble or step on her foot.
"How are things with Kyungsoo?" she asks casually when they're between sets at the main stage, hanging out at the barricade. Chanyeol lifts a shoulder to his ear but he can't stop the grin from creeping across his face.
atlanta, georgia. july 24.
Chanyeol's backstage waiting for the Assholes to finish up their last song when it happens. He keeps replaying it in his mind afterwards and he still can't quite figure out what goes wrong. Yixing jumps, knees tucked to his chest, suspended in the air for a moment to land on a downbeat. He's done it a thousand times before with no incident. This time, number one thousand and one, he lands awkwardly on the back of his heels and stumbles. He manages to stay upright, guitar clanging against his thigh but otherwise unharmed. Chanyeol's glad-the Les Paul with the blue swirl finish Yixing's got right now is one of his favorites, and he'd be really upset to see it damaged.
Unfortunately, Yixing's not so lucky. His face contorts with pain and his hand drops away from the fretboard, a flurry of smudged notes trailing off into feedback, and then nothing. Baekhyun notices immediately when Yixing can't stand up straight and waves Lu Han off to stop the song.
"Shit," Kyungsoo says, peeling out from where he'd been standing, a few feet behind Chanyeol, "something's really wrong. Get the medic."
By the time Chanyeol finishes packing the trailer and gets there, Yixing's playing cards with Lu Han and Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo's pacing tight circles at the end of a corridor, twirling an unlit cigarette in between his index and middle finger. Chanyeol tries to touch him but Kyungsoo steps out of reach, shoulder blades anchored against the tiled wall, body language radiating don't touch, not now.
"He's gonna need surgery," Kyungsoo says, his eyes dull. "His leg's numb."
Chanyeol swallows hard against the burning bile in his throat. "But he was fine this morning-"
"Slipped a disc." The cigarette slows to a stop. He taps it on his upper lip. "He's been jumping around too much."
Around them, the hospital bustles. Nurses crisscrossing the hallway from room to room, pages ringing out over the loudspeaker above. Kyungsoo stays silent, his eyes dark and solemn. Chanyeol hesitates and then finally allows himself to put his hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder.
"He'll be okay."
"Yeah." Kyungsoo smiles grimly. "It's over, though. The summer's over. We'll have to pull out of the rest of the dates."
The sound of Baekhyun's voice makes both of them jump. He comes around the corner, hands buried deep in his back pockets. The way his shoulders are drawn up to his ears almost makes him look shy, although Baekhyun's never been shy a day in his life. "Why can't Chanyeol do it?"
"Why can't Chanyeol do what?"
"Fill in for Yixing. He knows all the music. He can do it."
Chanyeol sees a flash in Baekhyun's eyes, one of earnest desperation. He wants so badly to prove himself this summer, and things keep getting in his way. It's true that Chanyeol's got all their repertoire down. At this point, he could probably fill in for any of the members if they were missing. But it feels too strange, knowing Yixing's going to be in bed and away from the band for any length of time.
Kyungsoo tilts his head. He pins Chanyeol with a thoughtful stare, lower lip sucked in underneath his top one. "I hadn't thought about that. Would it be too much? We could-I could help-with your real job."
Chanyeol hesitates.
"It was Yixing's idea," Baekhyun explains, hand cupping Chanyeol's elbow to offer him encouragement. "He said it the minute they came back with the results."
Chanyeol looks between Baekhyun's face and Kyungsoo's and he knows that for different reasons, they both feel like this tour is their last shot to prove something. He's the only thing standing in between that. He's the only one that can salvage a success from the wreckage.
And besides, he doesn't want the summer to be over yet, either.
So it's settled: Chanyeol will fill in as the Assholes' guitarist for the remaining nine dates. He'd normally be over the moon at a break like this-this is a big fucking deal, especially when he's been working behind the scenes for so long. But Yixing's hospitalization puts a damper on things. Chanyeol sits with Yixing for half an hour and lets him talk him through the entire set, song by song. Chanyeol knows it by heart, but he can see it means a lot to Yixing to know that everything's being taken care of. Chanyeol takes notes on the backs of receipts in his pocket and promises to text Yixing every evening after their set to let him know how it went.
They have to leave Yixing behind in Atlanta. The bus is already running behind waiting for them, and they'll never make it in time if they don't leave. It's a subdued ride, knowing one of their bandmates is lying in a hospital bed tonight instead of up in his bunk. His parents are due to arrive sometime tomorrow, whenever their flight gets in, so he won't be alone for long, but it's little comfort. Yixing's absence is felt anyway.
After lights out, Chanyeol lies there for half an hour listening to Baekhyun toss and turn. After he finally settles in with a rough cough, a familiar face peers around the edge of Chanyeol's curtain, pale and morose. Kyungsoo crawls up his legs as carefully as he can manage, one finger pressing to his lips to keep Chanyeol from waking Baekhyun. It's a tight fit, two men in a bunk barely designed to fit one, especially when Chanyeol's one of them. Chanyeol pulls the curtain back to give them some privacy and they both lie still for a moment, listening to the sounds of the bus's engine rumbling underneath them. Baekhyun's making quiet whimpering noises in his sleep, and Sehun's snoring is loud enough to wake the dead. Kyungsoo tilts his head, breathing noisily, and then his lips part against the corner of Chanyeol's jaw. Chanyeol holds his breath, wondering if he's going to take it a step further again.
"What's up?" Chanyeol whispers after the longest minute of his life, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible when there's someone breathing in his ear. Kyungsoo nuzzles at the spot where his lips had been and sighs.
"This was supposed to be a good summer," he murmurs. "Why hasn't anything worked the way it was supposed to?"
"It hasn't been all bad," Chanyeol says reasonably, patting Kyungsoo's shoulder, pulling him just a little closer.
"You're right, it hasn't. And it's not over yet," Kyungsoo agrees, yawning softly so that his lips brush against the lobe of Chanyeol's ear. Chanyeol wonders if he-if this-counts as one of Kyungsoo's good things.
st. petersburg, florida. july 25.
Chanyeol doesn't know how to feel the next morning during the impromptu rehearsal. It feels good to get the songs under his fingers again, to work as a team to make music instead of bustling around making sure everything's plugged in and functioning. He watches Sehun and Kyungsoo onstage and thinks about Yixing sitting in the hospital bed and can't smile, even though inside he's bursting at the seams with excitement.
Baekhyun cons him into putting on eyeliner and makes him change out of his old Role Model t-shirt into a sleeveless shirt with the arm-holes ripped so huge he's basically wearing a pinney. "You've got those tattoos," Baekhyun says reasonably, stepping back to admire the precise wingtip he's just drawn on Chanyeol's left eyelid. "You paid good money for them and you're just going to cover them up."
Kyungsoo has to physically restrain Chanyeol from going onstage to check Sehun's handiwork. "I took care of everything," Kyungsoo assures him, squinting up against the sun into Chanyeol's face. "What did you do to yourself?"
"Baekhyun."
"I figured." His thumb comes away black with mascara. "There. You don't need all this."
"Thanks," Chanyeol says, grinning, left hand borrowing Kyungsoo's wrist as a makeshift fretboard, fingers flying through the opening song until Kyungsoo yanks his hand away and complains that it tickles.
"You ready?" Kyungsoo asks, looking at his watch. Lu Han comes by and offers Chanyeol a silent fist bump of solidarity on his way to his kit. Baekhyun's not far behind, bouncing around on one foot, then the other, swinging his arms around to loosen up like he's about to swim a relay race.
"As I'll ever be."
"You'll be fine." The crowd erupts in a huge roar when they see Lu Han emerge onstage. Chanyeol swallows hard and looks down at Kyungsoo, smiles thinly. "Don't fuck it up," Kyungsoo teases, and shoves him the final two feet onstage.
Performing's a funny thing. Chanyeol's body definitely remembers this, but he's never played for a crowd this big before. He's done a couple outdoor shows-small festivals, though, nothing with headliners and multiple stages, nothing of this magnitude. It's electrifying. The pulse in his veins throbs in time with Lu Han's cymbal hits and he catches Baekhyun watching him out of the corner of his eye and remembers. He looks out at all the faces in the crowd, the sea of hands thrown in the air, reaching out for Baekhyun, who swings the mic up his forearm and leans out over the pit so the crowd can sing along with the chorus. Yura's up front, crushed against the gate. She throws him the thumbs up every time he catches her eye, which is pretty often. He's really glad she's here for this. She's always been supportive of his career behind the scenes and he knows despite the awkwardness recently she'll always, always have his back-but it's reassuring to look out and see family.
He's so lost in the music, fingers on autopilot, that it doesn't even register with him that the set's over until Lu Han's ambling over to the edge of the stage to toss out his sticks, clapping Chanyeol on the back in congratulations. Chanyeol's shirt is soaked through with sweat from the oppressive Florida heat, stuck to his skin where the guitar strap had been. He can only see Kyungsoo's smile, waiting for him in the wings. So he comes offstage, away from the light, and dives right into Kyungsoo's open arms.
west palm beach, florida. july 26.
It's decided that Tao will take over the Assholes merch table for the remaining tour dates. Truth be told, he's doing a better job than Sehun ever did. He actually sells out of the rest of the women's sizes in both of their t-shirts and the first EP, keeps coming back to Kyungsoo asking if there's any more hidden somewhere. There's not, but it's a nice thought.
"We should steal him," Kyungsoo says, when he knows Jongdae's within earshot. Jongdae scowls.
"I'll trade you the roadie for the merch kid." He smiles slyly. "Your old roadie, I mean."
Kyungsoo actually appears to consider it for half a second. Chanyeol picks him up and tosses him over his shoulder to carry him away, lumberjack style.
"Okay, okay!" he laughs, pounding his fists on Chanyeol's back. "You can stay. Put me down!"
For all the jokes, the replacement roadie's doing just fine. Sehun is a surprisingly quick study, although Chanyeol realizes, halfway through explaining load-in, that Yixing's been talking Sehun through the ins and outs of the equipment for the better part of the summer. His hands are steady and sure, wrists cocked perfectly with the sticks as he rolls through Lu Han's drum set, pausing for a moment to check the placement of the microphone for the kick drum. He looks good. Professional. It's definitely a better fit than sticking him behind a table all day.
Chanyeol tries to offer assistance when he sees Sehun emerge with a pedal underneath his arm. "That goes-"
"I know," Sehun says impatiently, his mouth pressed into a sharp line like a knife's edge. Sehun's never looked frigid or businesslike before. Honestly, it's a little frightening. Chanyeol backs off, right into Kyungsoo, who's waiting in the wings and laughing.
"You've been replaced," he says. Chanyeol muscles him into a dark corner behind the tower of amps and stands there, mouth hovering less than an inch from Kyungsoo's. Being close like this, breathing each other's air while the wet heat wraps around them like a blanket, makes it seem so much more intimate. Like there aren't a hundred people milling around backstage who are probably watching the entire spectacle. Chanyeol doesn't care much about that right now, though. He'd never be able to keep Kyungsoo a secret forever.
"I hope not," Chanyeol rumbles, and lets Kyungsoo come to him.
orlando, florida. july 27.
Chanyeol's alone in the venue bathroom at the fairgrounds taking a piss when Kyungsoo comes in. Chanyeol glances up and sees him in the mirror, hears the gritty click of the deadbolt sliding into place, and realizes a moment too late that he's going to be having sex right now. Frissons of excitement pop down his spine like electric shocks when he sees the dark look in Kyungsoo's eyes, when Kyungsoo pulls off his shirt and drops it on the floor. Chanyeol feels like a teenager with the way they can't keep their hands off each other, but it's like talking about it opened the flood gates. Years of sexual tension built up and released into reckless decisions, like when Kyungsoo unsnaps Chanyeol's jeans and pushes him back up on the sink countertop. Chanyeol winces at the puddle he's sitting in, but he's so ready for this.
There's also a bit of avoidance. Chanyeol doesn't want to think about Yixing's surgery. He obviously feels fucking terrible every time he floats the idea of moving to work for a new band, but loyalty doesn't pay the bills. So he focuses on this instead, pushing the tiny bottle of KY (purchased at a gas station for like $3 more than he'd pay at Walmart) into Kyungsoo's palm and guiding Kyungsoo's hand to his ass.
Kyungsoo produces a condom from his wallet and rolls it down his shaft with one hand, mouth attached to Chanyeol's neck. Being up on this countertop makes him the perfect height for Kyungsoo to sink all the way inside and lick a stripe up Chanyeol's throat, teeth scraping gently at his Adam's apple. Chanyeol closes his eyes and focuses on the way the stinging stretch softens into pleasure each time Kyungsoo pulls out and returns. The lube makes a soft, wet sucking noise, over-loud in the echoing bathroom. There's faint music outside, the dull roar of jumbled conversation, but the loudest thing is just their heavy breathing.
It's hot as fuck in here but the sweat on Chanyeol's skin feels fucking cold against the air. He shifts, slides himself further down to allow Kyungsoo to push deeper. Kyungsoo folds him in half up against the mirror, gathering him in by the thighs as leverage as he thrusts in. Chanyeol grabs hold of Kyungsoo's face and forces him to make eye contact before he pulls him in for a fierce kiss.
Eagerly, Kyungsoo meets him half-way, rasping, "You feel really good," Chanyeol's bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Chanyeol can't stop babbling. "Shit, yeah, please," he whines, legs spread wide around Kyungsoo's hips. Kyungsoo laughs, breathless with exertion, and pushes Chanyeol's hair off his forehead to kiss his hairline. Chanyeol leans forward and bites Kyungsoo hard on the neck, the shoulder, teeth sinking into the soft flesh, leaving dark pink marks in his wake. The mirror rattles, and a particularly hard push from Kyungsoo has Chanyeol slipping halfway into the sink as he struggles to keep his balance, knocking the hot water tap on as he catches himself and steadies.
Kyungsoo laughs and drops a hand from Chanyeol's leg in favor of wrapping it around his cock. If jerking off were an art, Kyungsoo would be fucking Picasso. So many things he does with his thumbs, rapid firmly-gripped strokes, relentless twists, even introduces his mouth when he can manage to reach, although he's obviously not too eager to get Chanyeol off right away because his pace slows and his eyes roll back in his head. He's buried inside Chanyeol with this small smirk in the corners of his mouth. He approaches Chanyeol the same way he'd approach an event-analytical, able to assess the best way to get the job done. He doesn't-can't, really-smile until the jizz starts squelching through his fingers. Then the composure of normally-stoic Do Kyungsoo cracks and his head drops forward onto Chanyeol's sternum and Chanyeol coaxes him through his release, stroking Kyungsoo's hair, mouthing kisses on the tip of his nose, his eyelids, biting him on the earlobe just to hear him whimper.
They stay like that for a while, still connected, until Kyungsoo softens and slips out. Chanyeol's back is stiff and he's got the impression of the tap handle pressed into his skin and somebody's banging on the door outside. Has been for a while. The bathroom's fucking disgusting, probably hepatitis on every surface, but Chanyeol's so overcome that it's all he can do not to push Kyungsoo against the stall divider and do it all over again.
charlotte, north carolina. july 28.
"So I've been thinking," Baekhyun begins, and Chanyeol looks up from the guitar he's restringing. Coming from Baekhyun, that's never a good conversation starter. It always ends with something outlandishly batshit, like we should incorporate pyrotechnics into the next tour! or how about some backup dancers with nipple tassels. Chanyeol's instantly on alert, ready to shut Baekhyun down. "It's been really cool having you play with us. I forgot how much I really missed it."
"Yes?"
"And Yixing's going to be laid up for a while with this back thing."
"Yes," Chanyeol says suspiciously. "He will." Yixing's been texting all of them non-stop since they left. They're in Charlotte today, which is marginally closer than they've been, but it could be halfway across the world when they don't have enough downtime to make the drive and make it back in time to rejoin the tour. Chanyeol doesn't want this gig full-time and he's scared that's going to be Baekhyun's suggestion. There's no way he can be Yixing-it doesn't matter how well Chanyeol knows the songs, they're not his, so he'll never get them the way Yixing does. Nobody can be Yixing except Yixing.
Baekhyun looks over his shoulder to ensure they're alone. "Jongdae and I have been working on a side project. And you should get in on it."
Chanyeol's spent the whole summer assuming their 'side project' was just code for fucking, but Jongdae comes over on the bus with his laptop to play the three songs they've already written. Chanyeol watches Baekhyun curiously out of the corner of his eye, sees his hand slide up the back of Jongdae's shirt to rest protectively on the small of his back. Okay. So it's obviously a little bit of both.
They're jamming when Kyungsoo comes back. Chanyeol's playing over the top of the track and Jongdae's humming along, nodding with approval every time Chanyeol does something he really likes. Baekhyun's sitting back, hand still up Jongdae's shirt, shit-eating grin plastered across his face. The song's a lot different than the stuff Yixing usually writes for them-less straightforward pop-punk, more r&b influences at the edges and in the chord changes. No way this would ever get them mistaken as a Motion City cover band. Kyungsoo stands watching half-way down the aisle, leaning against the bunks and listening. He's got an odd little smile on his face and his eyes are shining.
"What's this?" he asks when the song's winding down.
"Don't be mad," says Baekhyun. "It's just for fun."
"No, I'm not mad. It's good."
"Even with a traitor in our midst?" Baekhyun asks, laughing when Jongdae squawks and elbows him.
"Even with the traitor." Kyungsoo pushes off the bunk post with his shoulders and comes into the sitting area. "Chanyeol, have you showed them the stuff you've been working on?"
Chanyeol's ears go red. "No."
"Shit, you've been holding out on us," Jongdae says. Kyungsoo's one step ahead of them. Squirrels into Chanyeol's bunk and comes back with his laptop, boots it up and types in the password as comfortably as if it was his own machine. Baekhyun must notice the level of familiarity because he grins, wide and knowing, but wisely doesn't say anything. Chanyeol slumps back against the couch and covers his eyes.
"No, don't." His heart's pounding crazily with anticipation, worse than getting onstage with the Assholes, worse than the first few times he kissed Kyungsoo for real, worse than anything. He waits for the furniture to swallow him. It doesn't happen.
"It's good," Kyungsoo insists, and presses play.
nashville, tennessee. july 29.
Yixing calls with an update. Surgery's scheduled for the following Wednesday. He says he's fine being there alone but Lu Han insists on booking a ticket to come out and stay with him while he recovers.
"You're going to need someone to help you when you fall in the toilet," Lu Han says solemnly. "Grandpa."
"I'm going to be out for a while," Yixing says, genuinely apologetic, like he fucked up his back on purpose or something. "I'm really sorry, guys. I know we were supposed to tour with the new stuff for a while. It's going to kill the momentum."
"Don't worry," Baekhyun promises. "AP already killed the momentum. There's always a place for you. We'll be ready to pick up where we left off whenever you get back."
milwaukee, wisconsin. july 30.
It's not ideal to hook up in the trailer but it's the only place where they're guaranteed a little peace and quiet, even if it means hyperventilating from the lack of oxygen. At least the head rush makes the orgasms incredible. Kyungsoo slumps against an amp after they're done, sticky and covered with semen, his eyes wandering and unfocused. Chanyeol's pretty woozy too, but he has enough coordination and sense to clean them off with his discarded t-shirt. Kyungsoo stops him mid-wipe and grabs his chin to kiss him, soft and sweet.
"What was that for?" Chanyeol asks.
"You did really well up there tonight," Kyungsoo says. "Like a real rock star."
"Does that make you my groupie?" Chanyeol asks, eyebrows waggling. Kyungsoo shoves the dirty shirt in Chanyeol's face and laughs at Chanyeol's angry Donald Duck spluttering.
bonner springs, kansas. july 31.
Kyungsoo emerges from the bathroom with his glasses perched on his nose. He hates having to wear them-an old, wire-rimmed pair he's been sporting since high school, and even then only when he was having trouble getting his contacts in. He cringes when he sees Chanyeol's still awake and pushes the glasses up his nose.
"I thought you'd be asleep."
Chanyeol shakes his head, pats the empty, Kyungsoo-sized space on the mattress next to him. The second bed is still perfectly made, sheets stretched taut into hospital corners. It'll stay that way, if Chanyeol has anything to say about it. After yesterday he just needs more, needs it again, needs it badly. "Come here."
Kyungsoo crawls on his hands and knees to pause, suspended over Chanyeol. Chanyeol leans up and closes the space, kissing him. He could do this forever. Kyungsoo's mouth is soft and warm. He makes these quiet snuffling noises when he's happy that are so fucking cute that Chanyeol takes Kyungsoo's face between his palms and kisses him harder because he doesn't know what else to do with himself.
"Early morning tomorrow," Kyungsoo says when they break apart, his lips puffy and slick with Chanyeol's spit. He looks annoyed, but keeps nipping at Chanyeol's chin, making no effort to stop where this is headed. Chanyeol doesn't want to think about how tired he's going to be tomorrow morning, just the way Kyungsoo shivers and deliberately rocks his hips into Chanyeol's until Chanyeol groans out loud.
Somehow they end up with Kyungsoo sitting in the desk chair, leaning back with his dick in hand, watching Chanyeol finger himself. Kyungsoo's eyes are dark, mouth parted just slightly, and every time Chanyeol gasps out loud Kyungsoo squeezes himself and his eyes roll back in his head. Chanyeol notices the fine beads of sweat forming on Kyungsoo's forehead and gestures with his free hand.
"Come here," he says. Kyungsoo shakes his head.
"You come here." Back arched, he pushes himself back up into a seated position with the top of his head against the chair. Chanyeol's hand slows.
"What do you want me to do? I can't-I'll hurt you. Just come here."
"You're not going to break me," Kyungsoo says, eyebrow arching. There's an odd, steely quality to his voice that makes Chanyeol's spine snap to attention. He's not being Kyungsoo right now but Manager Do, expecting Chanyeol to meet all of his demands. "Do it."
Chanyeol's mouth goes dry. He's got six inches and a good number of pounds on Kyungsoo. There's no way this can end well-but Kyungsoo wants him to sit in his lap, so he does. Tentatively at first, one hand gripping the arm of the chair. Kyungsoo guides him down gently until he's sheathed all the way inside, then smooths a hand up Chanyeol's ribcage in silent praise.
In this position, Chanyeol's got to do most of the work. It helps that he's got long legs. It's easy to hook his ankles around the legs of the chair and push himself up, up on his toes, until he almost feels Kyungsoo slip free, and then sinks back down on his dick again in one smooth slide. Kyungsoo rests his forehead against Chanyeol's back, hands wandering up from Chanyeol's nipples and back down to tug at his pubic hair, always just managing to avoid Chanyeol's dick. It's frustrating-amazing, but frustrating. Each yank, each pinch, sends a prickle of pain shooting straight to his cock, which bobs, neglected, near his thighs.
"Told you-you wouldn't-crush me," Kyungsoo pants. He drops a few open-mouth kisses across Chanyeol's sweaty skin, tip of his tongue tracing a straight line up the terraced vertebrae of Chanyeol's spine.
Chanyeo rises up on the balls of his feet, one hand braced on the wall, and bounces gently, testing it. The slightest movement from Chanyeol's body has Kyungsoo breaking out in a sweat, writhing underneath him, grabbing the flesh of Chanyeol's thighs by the fistful. Chanyeol retaliates by retreating a fraction, only to inch right back. He's still unused to the sensation of Kyungsoo inside of him, but the stretch isn't unpleasant. After a while, the sting at the rim of his asshole fades away and it's just a dull pressure, steady and rising, like a bicycle pump.
After a particularly enthusiastic thrust, Kyungsoo gasps and swears, the blunt ends of his fingertips digging into Chanyeol's hips to try and pull him closer. If he had fingernails, they probably would have broken the skin by now.
"What was that?" Chanyeol asks. Kyungsoo thrusts his hips as hard as he can, trying to catch up to Chanyeol, who hovers above him, balanced on his toes just a few inches out of reach.
"Fuck-Chanyeol-please," Kyungsoo moans. "I need you-to-just, please."
Chanyeol's delighted that the tables have finally turned, that Kyungsoo's the one falling apart because of him. Kyungsoo's arms wrap around Chanyeol's chest to hold him steady, keep him grounded. His thighs tense underneath Chanyeol, cock kicking. When Chanyeol follows, his vision sparks into pinpricks of white, his body clenched and bowing like a cattail.
salt lake city, utah. august 2.
Salt Lake City, Utah. The beer's weak but the show's pretty good, all things considered. Chanyeol's so fucking ready to be done with the summer. He can't imagine how Baekhyun and Lu Han and Jongdae feel. They've been throwing everything they have into the performances every single day and it shows, but he thinks back to Baekhyun's temper tantrum under the shower and his subsequent threats to quit, and Chanyeol finally understands that making it big doesn't always mean feeling like a rock star. Right now, he feels like the tour bus backed over him once and then drove over him again for good measure.
They're gathered in the back of the bus. Yura's there too, listening in on their meeting about the special project. She's sitting next to-or rather, cuddling up against-Chanyeol. After a long hot day in the sun doing coverage for the AP blog, she's exhausted and dozing lightly, her chin resting on his shoulder. Chanyeol holds still, spine stiff as a board, trying not to move around too much and disturb her.
"So... we're really gonna do this?" Chanyeol asks, flicking a guitar pick at Kyungsoo's face with his free hand. It bounces off Kyungsoo's cheek and ricochets into his outstretched hands. He scowls and flings it at the floor.
"I think it's the best option," Baekhyun says. Next to him, Jongdae slings his feet into Baekhyun's lap, dirty Vans and all.
"You guys need to wait for Yixing to get better anyway," he says. "Let's have some fun."
"What about your band?"
Jongdae shrugs. "I've got time. I can do both."
"Yixing said he'd produce it," Lu Han confirms, tucking his legs underneath himself to sit lotus-style. Kyungsoo hovers at the cabinets, opening them one by one, trying to find a bag of chips or crackers that hasn't been completely decimated and left to grow stale. He finds some goldfish crackers on his third try. They look pretty questionable from where Chanyeol's sitting, but Kyungsoo tips a handful of them into his mouth anyway.
"You think the fans can handle it?"
"The fans will be so stoked their heads will explode," Baekhyun says solemnly. "We have to do this." Jongdae's not paying attention to Baekhyun, which gives him the perfect opportunity to untie his shoelaces and knot them back together.
Chanyeol hasn't seen Baekhyun this enthusiastic about making music in a long time. It's like the fire's been lit underneath him again. Chanyeol supposes it's easy to get bored when it's the same thing day in and day out, when he barely has a hand in the creative process behind the songwriting. Baekhyun's spent the past five years singing someone else's songs, telling someone else's story. It's not that he's overstayed his welcome-Baekhyun has definitely made his position as lead singer in Fistful of Assholes his own, but there's something to be said for starting fresh every once in a while, just to remind yourself you can.
Kyungsoo sits down on the end of the bench next to Yura. She looks up, blinking sleepily, and hoists herself up into his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck. Chanyeol catches it out of the corner of his eye, the way she lifts her head to whisper something in Kyungsoo's ear. Earlier this summer it would have driven him crazy, but now he just focuses on the protective way Kyungsoo holds her so she doesn't fall and feels relieved that someone else is taking care of his sister as much as he wants to all the time. Kyungsoo throws his head back and laughs at whatever she's saying.
"What?" Chanyeol asks warily. That's never a good laugh. It's the one Kyungsoo always uses when Chanyeol's done something really stupid. Yura looks at him and smiles.
"Nothing."
"Nothing," Kyungsoo echoes, glancing at Yura. He manages to hold his straight face for all of five seconds before he cracks up again. Chanyeol's glad to see he's happy, too. The summer had definitely taken a turn for the worse, but everything seems to be on track now, and he can't really ask for much more than that.
denver, colorado. august 3.
Last day of the tour. Chanyeol feels strangely renewed, like it's the first time all over again. Baekhyun blames it on the mountain air, but maybe it's the FaceTime call with Yixing they'd had moments before going onstage, or the prospect of finally heading into the studio in the fall.
"What's going to happen?" Chanyeol asks Kyungsoo later, when it's just the two of them cleaning up the equipment. Kyungsoo coils an extension cord around his palm and elbow, throwing his whole body into it as he methodically wraps it around, hoisting it up over his head as he works. He raises an eyebrow at the question, baffled.
"What's going to happen to what? The band?"
Chanyeol is too chickenshit to say 'with us', so he shrugs and busies himself with rearranging the guitar cases. He doesn't have to wait long before Kyungsoo's hand comes to rest on the crook of his elbow, tugging at him until he turns around. The way his eyes glow in the low light, cheeks peaked into a broad smile. He doesn't have to say anything for Chanyeol to know that they're not over, even if the summer is. Chanyeol's glad. He's never liked the idea of the people in his life being temporary. The friends he has he aims to keep forever. Double goes for Kyungsoo.
"So," Chanyeol says, inching closer. "It's not a fling."
Kyungsoo shakes his head. His eyes flutter shut instinctively, face tilted up to accept a kiss that misses the broad heart shape of his mouth and lands on his chin. His laughter is bright and loud, wiping Chanyeol's saliva off his face.
"Don't you need to be practicing for this upcoming album of yours?" he teases, ducking the second attempt. Chanyeol is undeterred. He reels him in by the hips and finally pins him underneath his mouth, hoping Kyungsoo realizes everything he's trying to say.
If he doesn't get the picture, though, that's alright. Chanyeol will tell him every day. He'll even put it in a song.