The Butterfly and the Falcon {REPOST}

[uchouten]

Clubbing

Kyungsoo’s never really had that many friends, the few he had back in his old zone weren’t really the types to be into this sort of thing. Not that they had many opportunities, anyway-too far off from the city to travel there with only clubbing as an excuse, and his village was a little too small to have one of their own.

So he’s not sure he’s all that eager to go when Baekhyun corners him after their shift on a Friday night, telling him everyone is going and he has no excuse not to this time because it’s not like he has any friends other than Baekhyun and Chanyeol (“And Sehun,” he tries to clarify weakly, but Baekhyun snorts because Kyungsoo and Sehun have never spoken outside of their appointments and Baekhyun knows it) and there isn’t anything possible for him to do that’s work related.

“Sehun is coming anyway. Are you in, or are you in?”

“I guess I’m in.” He drops his pencil down onto his desk and lets Baekhyun drag him all the way to their dorm. “I didn’t bring anything suitable to wear to something like that, though,” he points out when he opens the door to his tiny closet, frowning at how he see’s multiple ill-fitting pairs of jeans and plain shirts amongst his three sets of uniforms for work and the military get up he’s required to own just in case.

“Luckily for you,” Baekhyun tugs him over to his own closet and begins pulling articles of clothing out at random and holding them up to Kyungsoo’s body. “I’m incredibly vain and packed lots of clothes that I know will make me look even more fantastic than I already do. And we just so happen to be almost the same size.” He bites down on his lip as he contemplates between two pairs of jeans-one simple, black pair that look like Kyungsoo will spend the night having an awful time trying to breathe, and one with grey denim, with artful rips all the way up to the thighs.

Please go for the black ones, Kyungsoo begs in his mind. I don’t mind suffocating to death. Pleeeeaaaaaseeeeeeeee.

“These ones.” Baekhyun holds up the grey ones and Kyungsoo groans. “And I think this will do.” He holds up a simple, fitted black tee. “Now go get changed while I plan what to do with your hair.”

He’s embarrassed, to say the least. He’s never even imagined himself in these types of clothes, let alone actually dressed this way, so when Chanyeol shows up, ten minutes after Baekhyun has attacked his hair with gel and-much to his dismay-scissors, and gasps in shock, he stumbles back into the bathroom and slams the door shut, thinking he’d be much better off spending the evening curled up in the bathtub reading the directions on Baekhyun’s many types of shampoo, or something.

It takes them about twenty minutes more to coax Kyungsoo back out of the bathroom again, and Baekhyun’s getting extremely antsy as they head out the door. He’s holding onto Chanyeol’s hand as if it’s the only thing stopping him from ringing Kyungsoo’s neck for making them so bloody late, but Chanyeol doesn’t seem to mind it at all. He just fits their hands together more comfortably, laces Baekhyun’s fingers into his and gives him a warm smile.

It’s a ten minute walk off their base, and despite their apparent lateness, they manage to join some familiar faces in the line before the doors of the club have even opened.

Baekhyun lets go of Chanyeol’s hand to give Sehun and Kai high-fives. Kyungsoo is a little horrified to see that Suho’s there, standing with someone he doesn’t recognize, but staring at him-at Kyungsoo, eyes raking over his entire being, lingering at the jeans. He steps behind Chanyeol and it takes him everything not to bury his face in between his giant friend’s shoulder blades. So embarrassing. Why did he have to go through with this?

“You look fantastic,” a familiar, smooth voice from behind him has his shoulders tensing up and he turns to see Kai grinning down at him. He bows his head in thanks just in time for them to hear a loud scraping noise as the doors to the club open and the crowd lined up against the wall starts pushing forward. “Come on.”

Kai places his hands on Kyungsoo’s waist and guides him forward with the rest of their group. He’s actually rather grateful for the action, because he can still feel Suho’s occasional gaze on him and it’s making his legs feel suspiciously like jelly.

The music is deafening, and though it seemed like they were pretty close to the front of the line, when they enter there’s already a plethora of sweaty bodies moving on the dance floor. Baekhyun has a hold of Chanyeol’s hand again-which Kyungsoo thinks is a little odd, at this point-and he’s directing the group over to one of the booths at the back.

Kai’s grip leaves Kyungsoo’s waist and he has a protective hand on the small of his back, instead. Kyungsoo gives him a tiny smile as he slides into a seat, shuffling over so he can make room for the others. Suho announces that he’s going to get everyone drinks; that the music is too loud for him to hear everyone’s preferences so they’re just going to have to deal with what he chooses for them.

He comes back with four huge bottles of rice wine and they all reach for a shot glass-everyone except Kyungsoo, anyway. He prefers to watch; the one time he’d been coerced into having a drink with his friends, he’d spent the better part of the following three days with a horrible headache, feeling like death and having to carry around a bucket whenever he left his room.

“Not a drinker?” Kai has to yell into his ear in order to be heard. Kyungsoo nods slowly, his eyes trained across the table, watching the way Suho throws his head back and swallows down his shots so...appealingly. “The opposite of Baekhyun, then,”

Kyungsoo laughs as he looks over at his friend. It’s only been about fifteen minutes, but Baekhyun’s face is already flushed, he and Chanyeol alone are almost finished one of the bottles and it looks like Chanyeol has barely touched any at all. Baekhyun’s whining something no one else can hear as he rubs his cheek against Chanyeol’s shoulder and is practically curled up in his lap, eyes drooping shut. Chanyeol’s just sitting there with a dopey smile on his face as he lets it happen. Extremely suspicious, Kyungsoo thinks.

“Are they dating?” He turns to ask Kai, but laughs when he realizes Kai began to ask him the exact same thing. He shrugs and shakes his head, he doesn’t know, but he’s pretty sure if something was going on between them it would have been obvious from all the times he’s spent with them alone. They haven’t so much as once given him any reason to think there might be something going on between them-or have they? He racks his brain trying to think of all the subtle touches and smiles and gestures that completely went over his head at the time, but now could mean a whole lot more.

“Hey,” there’s a tap on his shoulder that has him snapping out of his thoughts. He’s surprised to see that Suho’s no longer in his seat-and is, in fact, right behind him, leaning close to talk into his ear. He makes to turn his head slightly to listen, but then he realizes that puts his lips about a centimetre away from Suho’s cheek and he leans back as far as he can without bumping into Kai. Suho’s giving him his usual charming smile as he beckons him to get out of the booth and he nods, apologizing to Kai as he squeezes by him.

“Let’s dance,” Suho shouts as they wander over to the dance floor. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, because he’s not so sure he can do this without making a complete and utter fool of himself, but he wants to, he really, really wants- “With girls,” Suho clarifies, looking a little put out at Kyungsoo’s expression. With girls? Well, Kyungsoo’s not so sure he wants that. He tries to turn back to the table, but Suho’s grip on his wrist is rather tight and before he knows it he’s being dragged into the mess of bodies.

It’s way too hot and he feels really claustrophobic. The girls that latched themselves onto Suho pretty much the second he found a spot for them have no interest in Kyungsoo at all-of course, he’s not a gorgeous, perfect pilot with an amazing smile and a fantastic body. He wants to escape, but he has no idea which direction to go in to find his friends again and the thought makes him feel sick, so sick. He really, really hates clubs.

But then another hand is curling around his wrist and it’s Kai, who is leading him through the crowd with narrowed eyes, not allowing anyone to stop him on the way. Rather than going for their table, he aims for the patio door, guiding Kyungsoo to one of the deck chairs and then pulling another over to sit with him. Kyungsoo tilts his head back and closes his eyes. The cool, night air feels so good against his skin after how stuffy he felt inside.

“Thank you,” he breathes, and Kai makes a small sound that seems to come from the back of his throat. Kyungsoo blinks his eyes open and stares up at the stars, smiling because the way they’re twinkling so innocently has his entire body relaxing.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” There’s a hint of laughter in Kai’s voice. “But I can’t help it, Kyungsoo. I really like you.”

“What?” Kyungsoo brings his thoughts back down to the earth and he glances at Kai, who is hunched over in his chair, staring at his own hands as he fidgets with his fingers nervously.

“I like you. A lot.” Kyungsoo sucks in a breath-he’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to respond to this. He’s never even thought it was an option to consider Kai as anything but a co-worker, maybe a friend, so this confession is nothing but surprising to him.

“I-I...” Kai shakes his head and smiles.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Just think about it, okay? I’ll be back at the table. Come in when you feel better.”

Prolonging the inevitable? Kyungsoo sighs sadly and pushes himself up to a stand as soon as Kai has disappeared through the door. He’s not into Kai, not like that, but he knows it’s going to be hard to reject him later on.

He somehow doesn’t have any troubles finding the table again. Mostly everyone is gone, and he feels a slight pang in his chest when he realizes Suho isn’t back from the dance floor yet. He slips into the seat right on the edge, opposite of Kai and as far away from Baekhyun and Chanyeol as he can get. Baekhyun’s gone from half-into Chanyeol’s lap to completely straddling his hips, and he can’t see either of their faces, but the way Chanyeol’s fingers are gripping his small waist ever so tightly makes Kyungsoo very, very glad he doesn’t have a full view.

Kai smirks at him and Kyungsoo can’t help but giggle in return. Well that answers their question, then.

-

It’s far too early when Kyungsoo feels the warmth of his blanket disappearing from his body and Baekhyun’s surprisingly strong fingers poking at his cheek. He doesn’t actually move until he hears his roommate mumble “wake up before I destroy everything you know and love” close enough to his ear that it sends a shiver right down his spine and causes him to slide out of bed in pure fear for his life.

“It’s five thirty in the morning,” he yawns into his hand, trying to glare daggers at Baekhyun, who’s already sliding under the covers of his own bed. “What was that for?”

Baekhyun waves a hand a hand towards the door and rolls over so that his back is facing Kyungsoo. “Tell that bastard that if he comes knocking on our door again at this time in the morning I will ruin his life, ‘kay?”

Kyungsoo gives his entire body a slight shake before he moves to open the door. He’s too tired to even begin to comprehend who in their right minds would show up at a time like this, so he can’t even bring himself to be surprised when he opens the door to see a tousle-haired Suho staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

“S-Su…. Junmyeon-hyung?” He questions softly, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. He’s aware he’s standing there in ugly pyjama pants and an oversized white t-shirt, but Suho’s outfit isn’t much better-he’s still wearing the same thing as he wore clubbing last night, it seems, except extremely wrinkly and minus the (very appealing) tight, black leather jacket.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Suho says in explanation as he screws his eyes shut tightly to will away a yawn. “Walk with me?”

Kyungsoo’s glad he at least put on his slippers when Suho takes hold of his hand and leads him down the long hallway, past all the other dorms. He stays quiet, letting Suho lead him, while he stares down at their entwined fingers and wonders if this is a dream. In his half-awake daze, it certainly feels like one.

They end up outside. Suho quickens his pace as they hurry across the giant field, over the runway and towards the giant hanger that stores the planes overnight. Kyungsoo slows to a stop, letting his hand unclasp from Suho’s and drop down to his side. “Hyung?” He says quietly. Suho turns to look at him, a tiny smile lighting up his otherwise sullen features.

“Have you ever been on a plane, Kyungsoo?” He asks.

“Never,” Kyungsoo shakes his head no. “I was never given a chance to.”

“Mm,” Suho hums and then takes hold of his hand again. “Flying is my everything. I… want to share it with you, Kyungsoo.”

“Aren’t you tired?” He asks, his voice shaking.

“Yeah,” Suho nods. “But it never has and never will affect my flying.”

Kyungsoo’s grip tightens around Suho’s hand-he’s nervous, so nervous, but also excited. Watching planes always fascinated him, but being in one…it seemed like more than he could even hope for. He’s not sure he would have gone for this if it was anyone else, but he trusts Suho. Trusts his capabilities.

“Okay,” he whispers, and they continue their trek to the hanger. Suho lets go of him again, only to punch in a code to one of the garage doors, and it opens slowly, revealing the sleek, black jet, which seems a million times bigger now that Kyungsoo is standing so close to it. It’s a little overwhelming, then, and he can feel the nerves taking over his system, his entire body trembling as Suho leads him over to a step ladder.

“This is my plane,” Suho says proudly, like he’s introducing a pet or a child. “It’s only a one man jet, so it’ll be a bit of a squeeze. Just climb in and sit as far forward as you can, I’ll get in behind you, okay?”

“B-behind?” Kyungsoo stutters. Why behind? Didn’t Suho have to be in front to use the controls?

“Just trust me,” He squeaks as Suho pushes on his butt to help hoist him into the tiny opening at the top of the plane. He does as he’s told, wiggles forward as far as possible, and he’s surprised when Suho slips in behind him with ease. Suho places the only helmet and pair of goggles in the cockpit over Kyungsoo’s head and then buckles them in, together.

“Lean back against my chest there - okay. Good. Now I can see over you. Don’t worry about obstructing my view of the controls; I could do this in my sleep.”

He closes his eyes when he feels everything begin to vibrate. He’s trembling again in his nervousness, but he doubts Suho can feel it at this point, he’s busy flicking on switches and soon he’s nudging Kyungsoo’s leg out of the way to get more comfortable.

It feels like it takes forever for the plane to get out on the runway. He cannot describe the feeling he gets in that split second that the wheels finally leave the ground. His heart seems to drop from his chest to his stomach, and he feels invincible, weightless, like the sky that they’re rocketing towards is all his. He feels Suho’s body shake behind him before he hears the laughter, and he can just tell that Suho knows, knows exactly what’s going through his mind at that moment and how he feels.

It’s amazing. There’s no other word for it. He’s still a bit nervous, fingers curling tightly into Suho’s knees, which are on either side of him, as he looks out of the window at the ground for the first time and realizes just how far up they really are. He can’t even tell what the base is, down there, it’s just a mass of buildings and roads and grass and the cars along the highways are just like multicoloured ants.

“Hold on tight,” it’s his only warning before the plan suddenly makes a sharp turn, tilting almost completely on its side as it takes the curve. Kyungsoo isn’t entirely sure what the noise is that escapes his mouth, but it sounds somewhere between a screech and a yelp, and Suho’s laughing again as the plane straightens itself out and continues to fly on. “Sorry about that!”

He can only whimper as Suho rocks the plane back and forth through the air. Kyungsoo’s able to regain himself quickly, leaning over Suho’s left knee to stare out of the window again. They’re even further up, small, wispy clouds obstructing his view of the ground this time. He never, ever, once imagined that he’d be able to look down on them.

“Do you want to try it?” Suho asks him after he’s managed to completely calm down again. Kyungsoo’s not exactly sure he heard it right.

“T-Try it?” He gasps out. He feels Suho’s chin rub up and down against his shoulder. He’s nodding. “If you want me to kill us both.” He says in the end.

“Don’t be silly,” Suho chuckles as he takes both of Kyungsoo’s hands from his knees, places them onto each joystick and then covers them with his own. “I’m right here.”

“Okay…” Suho pushes his hand slightly, the one covering the right joystick, and it dips below the clouds again. “This one controls altitude.” He says, but Kyungsoo has absolutely no idea what that word means, so in his head it’s the ‘up and down’ one. “And the other is how you turn. Don’t push that one too far, or you’ll flip the plane.”

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and puts a little bit of pressure on the left joystick, hoping to turn the plane just a bit to the right. When the entire thing tilts sideways again he squeaks and withdraws his hands, his chest heaving as he struggles to get his breaths out regularly again. “I’m going to die.” He covers his face and peeks through the gaps in his fingers at the controls. Suho straightens the plane out again and then giggles into his shoulder. “I want to go back on the ground. Put us down.”

“You did fine. You wanted to turn, right? It’ll always tilt to turn. Don’t worry.”

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Okay, okay,” Suho says and he shifts himself slightly to reach one of the buttons on the dash. He then pushes the right joystick forward again, and Kyungsoo thinks he might actually throw up when the plane begins a steep descent towards the ground. He gulps and covers his eyes completely, not removing his hands until he feels the plane touchdown.

“Where are we?” He asks, when he peeks outside the window. All he can see is trees and grass, so he’s pretty sure they’re nowhere near the base.

“Sector four,” Suho answers easily, like he has absolutely no problems with the fact that he’s just put them somewhere completely illegal-Kyungsoo’s cut short of his panicked thoughts when Suho wriggles out from behind him and pushes open the window. “I know what you’re thinking. I come here all the time, I’ve never been caught. It’s my favourite place in the world to relax.” He climbs onto the edge of and leaps off the plane, landing easily on his two feet on the ground. Kyungsoo gets up to do the same, but pales when he sees how far he actually has to jump.

“Where’s the stepladder?” He asks slowly, and Suho grins at him.

“Just jump. I’m here.” He holds out his arms to prove it and Kyungsoo’s sure that he’ll put the best pilot out of commission if he takes the advice and jumps.

“Step back, please, I don’t want to kill you,” Suho chuckles and nods, taking one step back. Kyungsoo half-jumps-half-slides down the side of the plane and loses his footing once he hits the ground, tripping right into Suho’s waiting arms.

“You okay there?” Suho asks him, amused, when he doesn’t make any efforts to straighten himself up. He groans out loud and slides his arms around Suho’s neck. He’s never felt this dizzy in his life.
Suho’s breathing falters and he pulls Kyungsoo closer, places steadying hands on his hips and waits, silently, for him to come to again.

“Dizzy,” Kyungsoo mumbles, and he curses himself for seeming so vulnerable; curses his lack of ability to speed up his recovery.

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Suho leads him slowly over to a comfortable looking patch of grass and helps him take a seat. “You’re doing really well for your first time. A lot of people even pass out.”

“Mn,” Kyungsoo can believe that, he’s sure he’s not far from it himself. He feels like he’s leaning on Suho a little too much, but it’s the only thing that stops the world from spinning too quickly.

Suho places an arm around his shoulder and he releases yet another trembling breath, but this time for a completely different reason. “Why?” Kyungsoo wonders out loud. He wants to know lots of things. Like why Suho asked him to dance with random girls yesterday, why Suho decided to wake him up for this at 5:30 in the morning and why, why, why is he treating him like this now?

“Because I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo isn’t sure which question this is in answer to. “I’m sorry for making you dance with those girls yesterday. I didn’t want that. I feel so stupid.”

“You didn’t want it,” Kyungsoo states.

“Mmn. I panicked… I was really shy.”

“Shy?” Yet another question is now nagging at Kyungsoo’s mind. He didn’t think Suho was even capable of anything close to shyness. He’s perfection in human form-what is there to be ashamed of?

“I wanted to ask you to dance with me. Not anyone else. But then I thought you’d say no. Because I’m not sure what all of your expressions mean yet, I was worried you thought I was…”

“I would have said yes,” Kyungsoo clarifies. It’s a little too late, but maybe Suho would appreciate knowing. “Despite my horrible dancing skills. That’s why I looked like…whatever I looked like. I thought I’d make a fool of myself in front of you.”

Maybe it’s the time of day, maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t really had much of a chance to organize what he feels about Suho into proper thoughts, but he’s finding it surprisingly easy to admit all of this.

“Even if you made a fool of yourself, Kyungsoo, it would have just made me like you more.”

“Like me more…” He sighs happily as Suho’s grip tightens. He pulls them both back so they’re lying on the grass. Kyungsoo curls up against his chest. It’s comfortable, so comfortable.

“It killed me. I went looking for you when I noticed you disappeared, I saw you outside with Kai and it killed me. He’s like a brother to me. I’d give him anything. But not you, not that easy. I couldn’t sleep because I thought he had you and I…”

“He doesn’t have me. I’ve always only thought about you.” It’s true. Since the day they met, his thoughts have always somehow found their way back to him. His smile, his laugh, his perfection, his flying. Everything. But he still can’t wrap his head around the fact that Suho likes him. Likes him; plain, simple, boring and not-conventionally-attractive Kyungsoo, someone who has never been desired by anyone until he moved to zone one, and suddenly a hotshot pilot and his prodigy best friend (a man too good for even his dreams) have both expressed interest in him in the space of 12 hours.

They remain there, silent, for god knows how long. Kyungsoo hopes he isn’t being a bother, running his hands over Suho’s chest, abdomen, up and down his arms, revelling in the feel that this is his, now. This is all his.

He props his chin up on his hand after a while and smiles when he sees that Suho is fast asleep, lips parted ever so slightly, and his breaths coming out in short puffs. He looks so angelic when he’s sleeping, that Kyungsoo can get over the fact that they’ve landed illegally in government territory. He wants to stay there forever, just him and Suho. Nothing but happiness. No war. No rivalries. No pressure. Just them.

-

He’s sitting on the desk chair that he’s rolled over to Baekhyun’s side of the room, with his knees tucked up against his chest, watching while Baekhyun examines one of his patients. He’s tired, but after spending all morning with Suho, the dorm room feels a little too empty to be comfortable.

“So you still haven’t told me exactly why Suho showed up at our room at like five this morning,” Baekhyun’s saying as he holds down his patient’s arm with his elbow and then sticks a needle in without any warning. The man hisses in discomfort. Kyungsoo almost feels bad for him.

“Five thirty,” He clarifies. “And because he wanted to talk?”

“Yeah I’m calling bullshit. If he wanted to talk, he’d have at least waited for a less ungodly hour. What did he want, really?”

“Baekhyun, now’s not exactly a good time. Can’t we just talk about it later?” Kyungsoo looks pointedly at Baekhyun’s patient, who’s squirming in his seat, his thick eyebrows furrowed as if it’s taking all of his willpower not to voice his frustrations. “In private.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Baekhyun waves a dismissive hand. “You’re worried about him? Nah. This is Kris. He knows Chinese or something. He can’t speak Korean.”

The man known as Kris opens his mouth, as if to say something, but then he shakes his head and closes it again, giving up entirely. Kyungsoo stares at him for a moment before sighing, letting his legs drop and his feet hit the ground. He uses them to make the chair spin as he contemplates how to word all of this.

“He took me flying,” He ends up saying first, even though it’s definitely not the thing standing out in his mind. Even though it was wonderful in all of its scariness.

“He what?” Baekhyun looks a tad surprised. “In his plane?”

“Yeah…”

“Wow. I wonder if he knows he’s not allowed to do that. Even commanders can’t…something about us being small and untrained; the g-force can be pretty tough on our bodies especially if we’ve never been in even a passenger carrier before…”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Maybe he knows. I don’t think he cares. He landed in sector four.”

“Really?” Baekhyun’s nodding his head slowly, like he’s impressed or something. Kyungsoo bites down on his lip, unsure how to continue. “Man. I’ve never seen him act this way. He usually just sticks to his group of friends. It’s almost like he’s into you or something.”

“It’s…kind of funny you say that…” He’s blushing to the roots of his hair and he knows it. Baekhyun deadpans, his hands dropping suddenly from the act of removing the long needle from Kris’ arm and he turns to stare at Kyungsoo in shock.

“No…” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean. Okay. I get it with Kai. He like…preys on the vulnerable. But Suho… into you? No. I’m sorry. Just no.”

“Is it really that unbelievable?” Kyungsoo feels like he should be offended, but Baekhyun’s words are kind of empty when he just returned from spending the last six hours dozing off on Suho’s chest.

“Well yeah. I mean. You’re cute. And last night you looked totally fuckable, but I just…can’t imagine you of all people being Suho’s type.”

“You’re doing a great job at giving me a thousand insecurities going into a relationship, you know.” He says bitterly and Baekhyun’s still shaking his head at him. “He told me he likes me. And that it’ll kill him to lose me to Kai, or something. But…”

“Your eyes kinda fall out of their sockets whenever he so much as breathes in the same room as you, so I think it’s obvious which guy you’re gonna go for. That is, if Suho’s even into you. Which he’s not.”

“Meh…” He kicks the ground and pulls his knees back up to his chest as the chair spins in one big circle. “What about you, though?” He asks, trying to change the topic of the conversation. He’s not sure he wants to hear anymore about how he’s not good enough to be Suho’s type.

“What about me?” Baekhyun turns back to Kris, who has his eyes trained suspiciously hard on the opposite wall.

“You and Chanyeol. At the club last night. Tongues down each other’s throats.”

“What?” Baekhyun looks so legitimately surprised that it throws Kyungsoo off a little. Did he not remember it, or something? He certainly drank enough for that to be believable…

“At the booth. In the club. Making out.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun giggles. “Oh. No. We weren’t making out, but now that I think of it, it could have kinda looked like that, right? Oh no. I just wanted to talk to him and the music was loud so I got super close.”

“The awkward straddling was kind of unnecessary, though,” Kyungsoo points out. He feels a little cheated out of his huge discovery, now.

“I was drunk, Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun waggles his eyebrows and then gives Kris a pat on the shoulder to tell him he’s free to leave. Kris stands up, and Kyungsoo can’t help but gawk, because, well, tall. Taller than Chanyeol, even.

“So you’re not together, then?” He asks sadly. “I really thought you were.”

“Oh, we are.” Baekhyun shrugs nonchalantly as he walks over to the door to open it for Kris. “But it’s not exactly something we like to advertise, so don’t go shooting your mouth off about it to anyone? I don’t really care if people know but it’s nice to have privacy.”

“Okay, whatever,” Kyungsoo doesn’t think it really matters, because he’s sure that everyone from the club the night before had the exact same misinterpretations as he did.

Kris is still mingling by the doorway and when their conversation dies away, he clears his throat loudly. “Just…for the record,” he begins, in slightly accented but otherwise fluent Korean. “I’ve told you multiple times that I’m a commander and it’s required that I speak four languages, Korean being one of them. So uh…” He’s not really given a chance to finish; Baekhyun just releases an exasperated sigh and ushers him out the door with an impolite, yeah, yeah.

-

They usually meet at the crack of dawn before they both have to get to work for the day. Waking up before five is worth it, it’s like they live for the quiet, undisturbed time they have together. They don’t even talk that much between themselves, usually just sitting on the grass if it’s not covered in morning dew, or walking hand-in-hand around the base, occasionally bumping into each other accidentally-on-purpose as they listen to the sounds of the world waking up around them.

It’s one of those days where the clouds are looking suspiciously grey and Suho says he has to do some work on his plane, anyway, so he and Kyungsoo make their way over to the hanger. This time, they slip in through the door rather than the garage, as opening it is unnecessary if they don’t plan on flying.

Kyungsoo takes a seat on the little work bench in the corner while Suho crawls under the engine, an oily rag held in his hand. His arm disappears right inside the plane and he’s making soft gasping noises as he tries to reach for something obviously right outside his grasp, and Kyungsoo waits with bated breath, a little scared. Suho’s a pilot, not a mechanic. Is this really a good idea? He could get hurt, somehow. As his… boyfriend, or something, Kyungsoo really feels like he should be saying something.

But he doesn’t, and eventually, Suho withdraws his arm, now smudged slightly with the same substance covering the cloth. He wipes his hands on his shirt and then grumbles something under his breath. “Oi, Kyungsoo,” he calls, and Kyungsoo perks up, nodding at him. “Grab my tool box, will you? It’s right next to the bench.”

“’kay,” Kyungsoo complies, half-lifting-half-dragging the heavy toolbox over to where Suho is knelt. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He asks worriedly.

“Of course, Kyungsoo,” Suho raises an amused eyebrow at him before rummaging through the toolbox and pulling out a pair of pliers. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know how.”

Kyungsoo bends to get a better look at what Suho is doing, but it doesn’t really do much, the gap is too small for both of them to see through and the smell is enough to make him feel lightheaded. He straightens up again quickly.

“How’d you learn to fix planes, then?” He wonders. “They don’t teach you that here, do they?”

“Nope!” Suho replies to him, his voice strained as he reaches inside the plane again. “But this is what I grew up doing. I was taught to fix planes before I learned to fly them. I was supposed to take over my father’s factory in zone six.” Ah, zone six. Kyungsoo’s heard all about it, it’s where most of the manufacturing plants in Asia are located. It’s the only zone that has multiple chunks of land all over the continent. It’s also known for being one of the poorest, because the factory workers aren’t exactly paid fairly for their efforts.

“Why didn’t you?” He doesn’t feel comfortable asking all these questions, but Suho doesn’t seem to mind. He emerges again, and this time there’s a bit of oil smeared across his cheek. It doesn’t do anything to put a damper on the bright smile he’s giving Kyungsoo at that moment.

“Because flying is my true calling, isn’t it?” He says. “I’ve always wanted to be a flight instructor. I haven’t given up hope on that, yet. Maybe when the war is over…”

“Do you have to go into active duty? Why can’t you just become an instructor now?”

“I’ve been trained as a combat pilot since I was 16 years old. They don’t want to waste my talent, they say.”

“It’s a bigger waste of talent if you’re dead,” Kyungsoo mumbles to himself, but of course Suho catches it. He pushes himself up to a stand and steps up to him.

“Hey, now.” He says gently, placing his wrists on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, only because his hands are covered in dirt and oil. “I’m not going to die, I’m too good to die.”

“I’m still scared, though,” Kyungsoo admits quietly. The war isn’t like any the world has been forced into before, they’re dealing with forces they never could have possibly prepared themselves for. Anything could happen.

“Don’t be.” Suho kisses him then, just a light peck on his lips that’s still enough to send a shiver right down his spine. He curls his toes in his shoes and tries not to clutch too tightly onto Suho’s waist because they’re still very new to this, and he’s not entirely sure how far is too far. “I’m not going to die now that I have something worth fighting for.”

-

It makes him feel like a terrible person, but Kyungsoo really enjoys it when Kai visits him.

He hasn’t properly rejected him yet, and it’s been well past a month since the whole confession at the club thing. He tried, multiple times at the beginning, but Kai always waved him off and said it’s not the time, don’t worry about it. He knows, now, that things would have been ten times easier if he just chased after him the night of the confession and rejected him right there.

It nags at the back of his mind every single time Kai shows up, all smiles as he apologizes for interrupting but he really needs to see Kyungsoo to make his good day just that much better. He always has such fun stories, and is always so kind, that Kyungsoo doesn’t want to face the inevitable merely because it means losing a good friend.

He agrees to go out with Kai on a free night because he thinks it’s a perfect opportunity to say what needs to be said. Kai takes him off base, to a fancy restaurant in a nearby city that’s full of middle-aged couples and fancy wineglasses, a place he’s not sure he’d frequent even if he had the money to. It’s awkward and uncomfortable because he knows what Kai thinks this is and it’s suddenly that much harder to bring up the matter at hand.

“You’ve been looking so amazing recently,” Kai says sheepishly as he takes slow sips from his wineglass. “I’ve always thought you were cute, but the past month or so, you’ve just… become so happy and bright… it’s like you’re glowing.”

Kyungsoo sucks on his bottom lip, trying his hardest not to reply. He merely nods in thanks, suddenly very intrigued by how his own glass-full of water, because Kai remembers that he doesn’t drink-is sparkling so nicely in the light of the chandelier above their table.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t push you but I’m getting a little antsy, Kyungsoo.” Kyungsoo blinks slowly, takes a deep breath. “I really want to be able to call you mine.”

“I…” He looks around desperately. Nothing is going to save him from it this time. “Jongin… hyung. I…”

“Don’t be nervous,” Kai reaches for his hand, nut he withdraws it from the table with a sharp intake of breath.

“Jongin, I’m sorry.” He bows his head in shame, but also so he doesn’t have to see the look on Kai’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wh-what is it?” He’s never heard Kai’s voice this unsteady before and it actually hurts his heart.

“I can’t… not with you… I’m already with someone else.”

A cold, empty laugh is his initial reply. He gulps down a lump in his throat and looks up, because if Kai deserves anything, it’s at least eye contact.

“I’m sorry,” He repeats, and Kai shakes his head.

“It’s fine.” He says. “I get it. Suho, right? Of course it’s Suho. It’s always him. Let’s just go, alright?” He throws his napkin down on the table and his chair scrapes back unnecessarily loudly as he pushes himself to a stand.

“Jongin…” Kyungsoo begs. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. “Please.”

“How do you know?” Kai asks him sharply. “How do you know he’s not like the rest of those douche bags who are only into you because you’re small? How, Kyungsoo?”

“Because he… because he loves me.” Kyungsoo replies in a small voice and Kai scoffs at him. He leaves Kyungsoo sitting there, alone, heat rising up his neck because he knows everyone in the vicinity is staring at him and as horrible as it feels, he knows he deserves it.

-

part three