Tears (and the art of mending)
Short Krisyeol drabble that I didn't intend to write but somehow needed to. A little different from my usual style I think. Warning: angst.
Rated R.
Wu Fan liked fucking Chanyeol slowly and deeply. The way he threw his head back, gripping his shoulders painfully tight, it made him feel like he could own Chanyeol, could brand his name across his heart in a permanent tattoo.
Chanyeol was standing before him, shredding his heart into tatters.
“I didn’t want to fall in love with you!” Chanyeol screamedshoutedsobbed. And where nothing had fazed Wu Fan before, when he was fine maybe a little jealous but otherwise okay even when Chanyeol fucked other people, where nothing had affected him before, now every part of his body was throbbing with painpainpain. Chanyeol’s voice was hoarse with shouting and he looked tired from the tears, but they kept coming. And what could Wu Fan say? He should be so so happy because this was the first time that Chanyeol had said that he loved him but he knew Chanyeol hated it. Hated falling in love with him. And he looked so miserable saying it that Wu Fan hated himself.
Chanyeol dreamed of a fairy tale. He dreamed of falling in love with a man who would treat him like he was the only one he would ever see. He wanted sweet nothings, dates and cheesy sayings. He wanted the love that came out of Disney movies, the one true kiss, the prince charming.
Wu Fan was no prince charming.
He was abrasive and rash where he should be calm and loving. Chanyeol was the only one for him, but he sure didn’t treat him that way. They sniped at each other constantly, even when they had sex. They weren’t supposed to fall in love.
Wu Fan stood before Chanyeol, whose frame was still shaking. He couldn’t even take a step forward to hug and comfort the one he loved when he was hurting. Damn. Damn. He couldn’t change himself to be the man Chanyeol always wanted. And that made his insides bleed, made his own eyes sting and his hands were shaking.
Would he ever be able to show Chanyeol how much he loved him? How much he treasured their small moments together even when they were arguing? How much he wanted to be his prince charming and wipe his tears away? Even though he was standing like a fucking statue right now, watching helplessly as Chanyeol broke down right in front of him? What the fuck was wrong with him?
They had met during Uni. Wu Fan was the kind who had a different relationship every week, if it could be categorized as a relationship when it was just fucking. Chanyeol was standing in front of his dorm room like a gatekeeper, arms crossed and scowling straight at him. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight.
Wu Fan tried to step in, to get past Chanyeol. “Excuse me,” he said not-so-politely. Who did this guy think he was?
“If you’re looking for Baekhyun, he’s not here,” Chanyeol said, almost hissing.
“I know he’s in there, he told me to meet him here himself yesterday,” Wu Fan snapped back.
“I’m not letting you near him.”
“Why not?”
“There’s no way I’m letting you fuck him and then leave him.” Chanyeol leaned back on the doorway, eyes flashing. “He’s the kind to fall in love with people who are not good for him.”
Wu Fan just raised an eyebrow. “It’s frankly none of your business.”
“It is if he’s my best friend.” Chanyeol scanned Wu Fan up and down, and his scowl turned into a slight smirk. “You look like you haven’t had sex in a decade. I’m feeling horny right now. You can fuck me instead.”
Wu Fan gave Chanyeol a look of open distain, at his baggy jeans and ugly sweater. “No thank you,” he said.
Chanyeol shrugged. “Your loss.”
They had a stare-off until Wu Fan huffed and walked (he did not stomp) away.
The next week, he was back. Chanyeol opened the door, hair clearly still messy from sleep.
“What do you want?” Chanyeol asked, hand running over his face.
“Is Baekhyun inside?” Wu Fan asked.
“No,” Chanyeol said slowly.
“And you’re not lying this time?”
“Why would I? He’s in Economics.”
“Good,” Wu Fan said, and then crashed his lips into Chanyeol’s. Clearly taken aback at the turn of events, Chanyeol tensed but then the rough texture of Wu Fan’s lips had him gripping his jacket and pulling him backward towards him.
They stumbled back into Chanyeol’s dorm, Chanyeol slamming the door in the process. When they pulled back from devouring each other, Chanyeol’s eyes were slitted with amusement and lust.
“Off,” he panted, tugging at Wu Fan’s jacket.
They fucked. It was fast and frantic, like the Armageddon was coming the next day.
The next week on the same time same place, Wu Fan came back for more when he had never done that for anyone else. There was something about the hitched moans of Chanyeol’s and the way his skin felt against his that got him hooked. They found that they had stuff in common, that maybe they could be friends with benefits on the side. It worked well for them, where they would stop playing with each other when a real relationship came every once in awhile.
And one day, Wu Fan just stood up from their bed, stared at Chanyeol a little more intensely than usual and said, “I love you.” Chanyeol had stared back with wide eyes and almost freaked out there, but then Wu Fan gave one half-shrug with his right shoulder and told him that nothing would change and that he was fine with nothing changing.
Chanyeol hadn’t expected to reciprocate that love.
And fuck it, he really did love Wu Fan. A little too much for his own good, because Wu Fan wasn’t good for him. Wasn’t good for his heart when some girl leaned too close to Wu Fan and Wu Fan smirked back at her. Wasn’t good for him at all.
He had meant it when he said that he didn’t want to fall in love with Wu Fan, because it had only seemed to eventually bring heartbreak with it, because that was what Wu Fan did. He left trails of broken hearts.
Then one day, weeks after his outburst and utterly humiliating crying episode, Wu Fan had slammed him against the refrigerator. His eyes were brimmed with pain, and Chanyeol’s breath hitched because he had never noticed Wu Fan was hurting and that he might’ve been hurting for the longest time. He had never noticed.
They had been fighting over who was supposed to buy the milk and then Wu Fan had lost it. “Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone else? Why the fuck did you have to choose me? You’re not happy with me, I can tell, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m not the one you wanted.” And then a tear slipped down Wu Fan’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”
And then Chanyeol was pulling Wu Fan into a harsh kiss, an actual kiss this time and they so rarely kissed. They usually made out, maybe, lips mishmashing together with only the selfishness that came with lust. But here Chanyeol was pressing their lips together, trying to tell Wu Fan with unspoken words that he needed Wu Fan and why couldn’t he see that? They were both so damn blind.
Maybe they could start from here, together. Maybe all Wu Fan needed to see was that maybe Chanyeol felt upsettingly happy with Wu Fan. Even though maybe he didn’t always show it. Maybe they might work out.
Wu Fan gripped Chanyeol’s hips and pressed them closer together. Chanyeol’s fingers tangled into his hair.
Maybe.
Rated R.
Wu Fan liked fucking Chanyeol slowly and deeply. The way he threw his head back, gripping his shoulders painfully tight, it made him feel like he could own Chanyeol, could brand his name across his heart in a permanent tattoo.
Chanyeol was standing before him, shredding his heart into tatters.
“I didn’t want to fall in love with you!” Chanyeol screamedshoutedsobbed. And where nothing had fazed Wu Fan before, when he was fine maybe a little jealous but otherwise okay even when Chanyeol fucked other people, where nothing had affected him before, now every part of his body was throbbing with painpainpain. Chanyeol’s voice was hoarse with shouting and he looked tired from the tears, but they kept coming. And what could Wu Fan say? He should be so so happy because this was the first time that Chanyeol had said that he loved him but he knew Chanyeol hated it. Hated falling in love with him. And he looked so miserable saying it that Wu Fan hated himself.
Chanyeol dreamed of a fairy tale. He dreamed of falling in love with a man who would treat him like he was the only one he would ever see. He wanted sweet nothings, dates and cheesy sayings. He wanted the love that came out of Disney movies, the one true kiss, the prince charming.
Wu Fan was no prince charming.
He was abrasive and rash where he should be calm and loving. Chanyeol was the only one for him, but he sure didn’t treat him that way. They sniped at each other constantly, even when they had sex. They weren’t supposed to fall in love.
Wu Fan stood before Chanyeol, whose frame was still shaking. He couldn’t even take a step forward to hug and comfort the one he loved when he was hurting. Damn. Damn. He couldn’t change himself to be the man Chanyeol always wanted. And that made his insides bleed, made his own eyes sting and his hands were shaking.
Would he ever be able to show Chanyeol how much he loved him? How much he treasured their small moments together even when they were arguing? How much he wanted to be his prince charming and wipe his tears away? Even though he was standing like a fucking statue right now, watching helplessly as Chanyeol broke down right in front of him? What the fuck was wrong with him?
They had met during Uni. Wu Fan was the kind who had a different relationship every week, if it could be categorized as a relationship when it was just fucking. Chanyeol was standing in front of his dorm room like a gatekeeper, arms crossed and scowling straight at him. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight.
Wu Fan tried to step in, to get past Chanyeol. “Excuse me,” he said not-so-politely. Who did this guy think he was?
“If you’re looking for Baekhyun, he’s not here,” Chanyeol said, almost hissing.
“I know he’s in there, he told me to meet him here himself yesterday,” Wu Fan snapped back.
“I’m not letting you near him.”
“Why not?”
“There’s no way I’m letting you fuck him and then leave him.” Chanyeol leaned back on the doorway, eyes flashing. “He’s the kind to fall in love with people who are not good for him.”
Wu Fan just raised an eyebrow. “It’s frankly none of your business.”
“It is if he’s my best friend.” Chanyeol scanned Wu Fan up and down, and his scowl turned into a slight smirk. “You look like you haven’t had sex in a decade. I’m feeling horny right now. You can fuck me instead.”
Wu Fan gave Chanyeol a look of open distain, at his baggy jeans and ugly sweater. “No thank you,” he said.
Chanyeol shrugged. “Your loss.”
They had a stare-off until Wu Fan huffed and walked (he did not stomp) away.
The next week, he was back. Chanyeol opened the door, hair clearly still messy from sleep.
“What do you want?” Chanyeol asked, hand running over his face.
“Is Baekhyun inside?” Wu Fan asked.
“No,” Chanyeol said slowly.
“And you’re not lying this time?”
“Why would I? He’s in Economics.”
“Good,” Wu Fan said, and then crashed his lips into Chanyeol’s. Clearly taken aback at the turn of events, Chanyeol tensed but then the rough texture of Wu Fan’s lips had him gripping his jacket and pulling him backward towards him.
They stumbled back into Chanyeol’s dorm, Chanyeol slamming the door in the process. When they pulled back from devouring each other, Chanyeol’s eyes were slitted with amusement and lust.
“Off,” he panted, tugging at Wu Fan’s jacket.
They fucked. It was fast and frantic, like the Armageddon was coming the next day.
The next week on the same time same place, Wu Fan came back for more when he had never done that for anyone else. There was something about the hitched moans of Chanyeol’s and the way his skin felt against his that got him hooked. They found that they had stuff in common, that maybe they could be friends with benefits on the side. It worked well for them, where they would stop playing with each other when a real relationship came every once in awhile.
And one day, Wu Fan just stood up from their bed, stared at Chanyeol a little more intensely than usual and said, “I love you.” Chanyeol had stared back with wide eyes and almost freaked out there, but then Wu Fan gave one half-shrug with his right shoulder and told him that nothing would change and that he was fine with nothing changing.
Chanyeol hadn’t expected to reciprocate that love.
And fuck it, he really did love Wu Fan. A little too much for his own good, because Wu Fan wasn’t good for him. Wasn’t good for his heart when some girl leaned too close to Wu Fan and Wu Fan smirked back at her. Wasn’t good for him at all.
He had meant it when he said that he didn’t want to fall in love with Wu Fan, because it had only seemed to eventually bring heartbreak with it, because that was what Wu Fan did. He left trails of broken hearts.
Then one day, weeks after his outburst and utterly humiliating crying episode, Wu Fan had slammed him against the refrigerator. His eyes were brimmed with pain, and Chanyeol’s breath hitched because he had never noticed Wu Fan was hurting and that he might’ve been hurting for the longest time. He had never noticed.
They had been fighting over who was supposed to buy the milk and then Wu Fan had lost it. “Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone else? Why the fuck did you have to choose me? You’re not happy with me, I can tell, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m not the one you wanted.” And then a tear slipped down Wu Fan’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”
And then Chanyeol was pulling Wu Fan into a harsh kiss, an actual kiss this time and they so rarely kissed. They usually made out, maybe, lips mishmashing together with only the selfishness that came with lust. But here Chanyeol was pressing their lips together, trying to tell Wu Fan with unspoken words that he needed Wu Fan and why couldn’t he see that? They were both so damn blind.
Maybe they could start from here, together. Maybe all Wu Fan needed to see was that maybe Chanyeol felt upsettingly happy with Wu Fan. Even though maybe he didn’t always show it. Maybe they might work out.
Wu Fan gripped Chanyeol’s hips and pressed them closer together. Chanyeol’s fingers tangled into his hair.
Maybe.