#77 Asters {2/2}
July 16th 2013
Jongin's holding the gift he gave to Sehun for his birthday between his two fingers and he reaches for Sehun's left hand, the ring held before the fourth finger, waiting, anticipating for an answer. Sehun's irises widen, the echo of Jongin's words ringing in his ears.
Tears prick Sehun's eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks in rivers. His vision is growing misty with every second that passes. The boy he loves kneels before him, breathing heavily after the words he had marathoned through with love embedded in his tone. Sehun feels warmth wrapping around him like a blanket, and it's not from the sun of the summer.
He braces himself, sinking to his knees as well. His knees are hurting, his heart is pounding against the cage he has built around it. Sehun's hand shakily grabs Jongin's hand that is holding the ring; it's simple, the diamond is cut small into a gem on the top of the circle, a familiar sight. They are now both trembling in each other's hold, and Sehun's laughing suddenly because it's ridiculous, it's absolutely ridiculous.
Why would Jongin even ask such a question when the answer is so painfully obvious in the daylight, in the moonlight, even in the black of the darkness?
Sehun blinks, his tears finally breaking free, flowing down his cheeks. Jongin frowns at the sight, his thumb is trembling against Sehun's cheeks as he tries to wipe the tears clean from his skin. Sehun merely smiles, his lips quivering.
“J-Jongin,” Sehun stutters, breaking out into giggles again. He feels Jongin touching his left hand tenderly, holding the ring out, pausing in front of the fourth finger. Jongin's eyes are expectant, waiting for the answer with the upward curl of his lips with all the light dazzling on the cracks of his chapped lips. The memory reel of Jongin's presence in Sehun's life plays like a film behind his eyes, and all he could feel at the moment is the intensity and depth of his love for the writer. It runs deep like blood in his veins, like the air he has to breathe.
Sehun inhales shakily, the tremble is obvious in his voice. His vision is getting clearer and there's concern in Jongin's eyes. Sehun is close to smacking his lips on Jongin's at the absurdity of the situation, of life.
There's nothing he would say no to when it comes to Kim Jongin, he should be aware of that.
So he whispers against the chirping of the birds, the buzzing of the bees, the soft rustling of the leaves against the little breeze that has arrived to bless them in the season of humidity.
“Yes, you absolute idiot. Yes, yes, yes, yes.”
October 13th 2011
It is four in the afternoon, Autumn is beginning to show in the glimpse of his window; the magnificent hues of brown and orange, the leaves splattered all over the streets and backyards, the slight cold in the air, not too icy to freeze one over but not too humid to break into a sweat. Autumn has always been Jongin's favourite season whilst Sehun loves spring and its flowers.
Sehun's feeling too cosy at the moment, clad in his favourite jumper and sweatpants. He had spent the entire morning with his older brother in the city and right now, he just wants to snuggle up to his bolster and stare into blank space.
His moment of bliss gets interrupted by a doorbell and the noise of someone opening the front door. It doesn't take Sehun very long to recognise the rushed footsteps through the apartment, bursting into the room with a voice he is too familiar with.
"Sehun, Sehun, Sehun," Jongin, the intruder of Sehun's contentment, exclaims in joy. Sehun merely turns over, blinks sleepily at the writer who is watching him with wide eyes and his smile beaming with such excitement that Sehun actually sits up from his position on the bed. Jongin is literally jumping on his heels, his grin is too wide for his face, tearing it apart with every second passing.
Sehun chuckles lightly, raking a hand through his messy mop of hair, "What is it? Didn't you say you were attending some sort of lecture or festival or ...something?"
Jongin nods vigorously, "It was a writers' festival and I was attending a lecture by this English professor who is a part-time editor." Jongin takes a deep breath before continuing, Sehun almost laughs at the excitement coursing through Jongin's veins. It is shown in his limbs, his too delirious eyes. "Remember how I sent my draft to like-"
"Ten thousand publishing companies? Yeah, I remember," Sehun interrupts while Jongin whines at him, "Not ten
thousand!"
"It's the same thing," Sehun laughs, nodding at the writer, "Go on."
Jongin pouts, the energy from before is lesser now that he has calmed down slightly but it is still making him jump. The pout disappears as quickly as it appeared, to another grin of his though it's a bit subdued from before. "As I was saying, that professor is actually from one of the companies I sent my draft to and he recognised me when I talked to him about my shit."
Jongin begins to smile wider, the gaps of his teeth and his canines are all on show for Sehun to gaze in wonder at. His eyes are in crescents, his ears are tingling and Sehun's curious. He blurts out loudly, "Long story short, my draft is picked! I'm publishing a fucking book!"
It's Sehun's turn to widen his eyes in shock. He's suddenly frozen all over, watching Jongin jump again in excitement like a five year old kid being told that he is going to the zoo.
It's an understatement to say that Sehun's happy and proud of Jongin. He feels way more than that and there aren't words to emphasise how ecstatic he is for Jongin (well Sehun's not a writer, in any case). He wouldn't say he has been there from the first day Jongin picked up a pen and paper and decided to write his own fiction but he would say that he has been a dedicated supporter ever since he knew Jongin. He has been a witness of the writer's struggles, pushing him on to write till the very last word of his draft. Sehun has been the one filling Jongin's self esteem about his writing with praises and reassurance.
And to witness his growth and his road to success paving this way? Sehun is more than just proud and ecstatic for the writer.
Sehun's eyes begin to water as he rushes over to Jongin to envelope him in a crushing hug. He's muttering the word 'Congratulations' over and over again under his breath, into the shell of Jongin's ear. He wonders how Jongin's feeling right now because Sehun, himself, feels like he's about to burst from all the emotions his heart is going through. He pulls back to crash his lips onto Jongin, the barrier of his tears crushing under pressure, giving way to the tears for them to flow down his cheeks in streams. Jongin's laughing into the kiss, and he pulls away to pepper more kisses over
Sehun's wet cheeks, the tip of his nose and his eyelashes.
"Why are you crying?" Jongin chuckles, brushing his fingers over Sehun's cheeks, constantly rubbing soothing circles on them. Sehun sighs into his palm, leaning against his hand. He chuckles as well, his vision is still cloudy with a few more tears at bay but the smile on his lips tugging up and upwards is refusing to let them out.
"I'm just so," Sehun clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth, frustrated with his choice of words. How does Jongin live, being a writer? How is he even able to connect words to actions and creating an art from it on a piece of paper? Sehun could never understand the patience and strength writers have. He's an actor for a reason, preferring the visual and ability to utter words and showcase a certain action or emotion without a description to follow through. Sehun gazes into Jongin's eyes, the writer he has learnt to love through the months of being together and maybe, just maybe, he has learnt to appreciate the art of words due to this boy's ability to weave them into a beauty.
"I'm really, really happy for you, Jongin," Sehun whispers, and he feels a shiver running through Jongin's body. His fingers are trembling against Sehun's cheeks and he could see a few tears watering Jongin's eyes.
Jongin breaks into a lovely peal of laughter, those tears are spilling down his cheeks now and Sehun catches them with a few kisses of his own on Jongin's skin.
Sehun holds Jongin tightly to his chest, wrapping his arms around the writer's body, feeling the warmth he always carries with him. Sehun nudges his nose against Jongin, making the latter squirm in embarrassment at his own shed tears. His smile is softer at the corners now, less ecstatic and delirious from before. Sehun leans forward to peck a few kisses down Jongin's cheekbones, tasting the salt in his tears.
Another tear falls and Sehun catches him no matter what, Jongin smiles with sincerity in the stretch of his lips.
"Thank you," he whispers in the few inches between Sehun and him. "You've always believed in me and I'm just really glad to share this with you, out of everyone."
And Sehun's falling instead, like the tear drop from Jongin's eyes, hanging by a thread on his cheeks. All Sehun hopes for is a lifesaver when he drowns in the brown irises he gazes into right now, and wistfully wishing that it's the same pair of arms that is anchoring him and his weak knees from the soft thud of the floor.
November 24th 2014
"Thank you for coming this afternoon," Jongin flashes a smile at the line of cameras at the side and the small audience.
There is a clap of applause following Jongin's words, Sehun joins in, unable to fight the smile creeping onto his face at the popularity of his husband. Jongin's eyes wander to the back of the bookstore at the small stream of people entering the store, "Also, to those who are joining us involuntarily, I'm Kim Jongin, the author of 'Marigold'. If you're interested, you can stay to have a chat about my book or you could browse around the store for better books."
Laughter grows, and Jongin delights himself in a smug grin. It is shocking to see Jongin being outgoing and freely talking to an audience this way. Sehun has been here for every single one of his events and the development of his character on that small podium has increased immensely from the shy, fiddly author to the confident, aloof author standing before Sehun now. He can't tease Jongin anymore for his habit of stepping on his toes on stage when he's being nervous. The boy stands with his shoulders straightened and an easy smile on his face now; a clear evidence of the changes he has gone through the years of being an established writer.
Sehun is proud, needless to say, to see his husband being comfortable in the limelight.
It's the press event of his book where Jongin is able to sit down and talk to reporters about his book that is going on the shelves all over the city. Sehun sits idly in the back where he could see Jongin best. The writer listens to the questions being asked by the reporters, and answers as obediently and accurately as he could without giving them anything to jab at later on in the papers. The cameras follow every line of his movement, scrutinising him under lens. It must be exhausting, Sehun can't even imagine.
“So, Mr. Kim,” one of the reporter starts, a pen tapping against the clipboard. “'Marigold' is another novel with a flower as its title, what made you title another novel by a flower again?”
Jongin's eyes are tired, Sehun could see that even from the seat he's on. The writer smiles, like he has been expecting the question, and parts his lips to reply a rehearsed answer, “My obsession with flower symbolism, that's it.” There is laughter following his answer, his smile deepens at the sound, “This time, a marigold symbolises pain and cruelty.”
"Is that what the novel is about?" A reporter speaks up, her voice daring. "Is it another one of your romance novels?"
Jongin laughs, most probably at the reporter's boldness. "No, not really. It is a compilation of failed relationships, and the male protagonist goes through the pain of it, thus the meaning of 'marigold'. But mainly, it's about his growth from that part of his life."
The same reporter prods on, pushing at Jongin's buttons, "How is that not a romance novel?"
Sehun could see Jongin fighting the urge to roll his eyes dramatically in front of the reporter but he has to remember that there are indeed, cameras to catch even a slight roll of his eyes. He merely inhales, and answers as calmly as he could, "It's not a romance novel because it's about life. Romance is a part of life and my protagonist decided that it was his entire life."
"That's very smart, Kim Jongin," another reporter says, cutting the others off in their haste to praise Jongin. "Would you read out a snippet of it?"
Jongin glances at his publicist at the corner and Sehun witnesses Minseok giving him the 'okay' sign, letting him go on.
Jongin picks his book up from the table and Sehun straightens up in his seat, perking up to hear the snippet coming out of Jongin's lips. He hasn't had the opportunity to read Jongin's drafts before they are published, deciding that he wants to read it along with the rest of the population. Jongin always insists on making him read his drafts, wanting him to comment on the flaws of his work before it goes under the knife but Sehun has always been a stubborn person, keeping his word.
The writer clears his throat, and the media is hanging by every breath he takes, anticipating patiently. He flips through the pages, eyes scanning the words, trying to find a snippet appropriate for a sneak peek. He stops, halfway deep into the book and he takes an intake of breath, eyes flitting upwards and meeting Sehun's for a second but the glance is as fast as it came, leaving Sehun all cold over.
"It's ticking. The hours are passing and his heart is still beating. It's a wonder, he wants to say, how our hearts work. They help us breathe, help us live, but when we are given the biggest obstacle on the road we embark on, the ache it brings, the pain it hits, the shatter of our heart is almost too difficult to withstand," Jongin pauses, breathing in noisily through his nostrils. The entire bookstore is silent, Sehun realises. Everyone is hanging on to every single word he says, he has everyone's attention in the palm of his hand.
"And the inevitable end of this relationship is no exception. The love he has for Sarah is still bubbling through his system, but the resentment is higher, the anger is alive, breathing red into his vision when he looks at the woman he has spent five years with. Five years, and all for nothing."
The entire bookstore erupts into applause. Praises for Jongin spill from every reporter's mouth, bathing the writer in wonder-laced compliments about his writing. Everyone is in awe of his writing, it's in the air as the claps grow insistently loud. He is sporting a small smile, surprise evident in the uncertain tug of his lips, the widening of his irises at the reaction. He bows low, thanking everyone with gratitude shown in his voice.
Sehun sits, back straightened against the chair, watching Jongin from his view at the back of the store. His heart is thumping against his chest, the words Jongin has read out wrapping around his head, trying to decipher the meaning, the story that has been Jongin's muse. He ponders over the words, echoing in his mind, deepening the gash in his heart.
Nothing, nothing, all for nothing.
Sehun stands up from his seat, grabbing his satchel and rushing out of the store without a glance in Jongin's direction. He is beginning to find it hard to breathe in a city filled with crowds in every street corner, paving his way through bodies and searching for the place he calls home.
Five years. Nothing.
Home, Sehun crumbles, his heart losing the air it needs to beat, his chest bruising red from the cuts of Jongin's written words, digging deep into his skin, finding its target to kill.
Home is where Jongin should be.
September 3rd 2013
Baekhyun tugs on his tie, tightening it around his collar even more. Sehun can't breathe, there are beads of perspiration flowing down the side of his temple, and he can't think straight. There are no other thoughts on his mind other than one more hour.
One more hour. The aisle. Wedding.
His teeth sinks down on his bottom lip, marking another bite on his too chapped lips. Baekhyun has grown tired of applying the chapstick on Sehun's lips, it is evident in the way he lets out a defeated sigh, overlooking Sehun's habit and brushing lint off the lapels of Sehun's black suit jacket. Everything is too tight on him, and he could only blame Baekhyun for that as the elder had volunteered to order the suits from a tailor he trusts, reassuring Jongin and Sehun both of his judgment.
"Trust me," Baekhyun says and Jongin scoffs next to Sehun, masking the sound with a cough when Baekhyun's eyes shoot a glare in his direction, through the mirror. Sehun is frankly too exhausted at this point to even laugh at their childish behaviour. "Aren't I like, the best dressed in our group?"
Jongin doesn't bother to hide his snot, though, rolling his eyes at Baekhyun. Sehun could see the glare firing up in Baekhyun's irises and at this second, it's Sehun's job to warn Jongin of the danger he's about to dive into and lead him to a path of no harm but Sehun has done his job of tolerating these two while discussing wedding plans so that is all Sehun could give right now.
"You're only best dressed because you're constantly next to either Kyungsoo or Chanyeol."
Baekhyun squeaks out of surprise, mouth falling open in disbelief. He is so dramatic, Sehun thinks bitterly as he leans against the seat of the car. All he could hope for right now is that Baekhyun would be sane enough to drive and not too overwhelmed by anger to drive headfirst into an accident to kill them both.
There's the usual anxiety rising in Sehun's throat, choking him, leaving him no air to breathe in properly. The room suddenly feels too small and he wants, he wants to leave. The suit feels all too small on him, he can't even stand on his two legs without a possibility of him falling and bruising his knees through the thin fabric of his trousers. He sits down, knees still trembling and his hands feel clammy, even when they are clasped together and shivering like there's a winter storm brewing in the room he's held in before the wedding.
The wedding. Jongin. Marriage.
It's not that he doesn't want to marry Jongin. There are no words to even express the love Sehun has bubbling in his chest for this boy, there is no end to it. Yet the idea of marriage scares him, the fear of commitment cripples his thoughts, the voices are whispering and whispering. He can't do this, he can't. Commitments aren't his thing. What if the flame burns out one day, and he's left with no one? What if the flame lives but none of them could? What if the flame was never even there in the first place and they are rushing headfirst into serious matters without even thinking with all of the impulsiveness of a sixteen year old in love. Sehun has been sixteen once, and he has never been in love this way. Is this what his youth must have felt like? Wind rustling through your hair, waking up to wish for a pair of arms embracing you, craving and living for the kisses pressed on your skin?
Is this marriage even going to be more than just a candle light? Or is it a firestorm at hand?
"Stop," Baekhyun says, his fingers curling into Sehun's shoulder, massaging a tense point there. Sehun relaxes just a slight bit, leaning into his best man's touch. "Stop thinking so hard. Your eyebrows might fall off."
"Haha,” Sehun deadpans, but the tension in his heart muscles loosens at Baekhyun's light jest. His lips part, hesitantly speaking, "What if... what if this is not meant to be, Baek?"
Sehun lets his eyes flick upwards, meeting Baekhyun's stormy ones. His lips are pursued in deep thought as he ponders on Sehun's question. His heart is almost falling, filled with worry that his best man won't even have an answer because he's unsure as well.
"It may be that case but what's important is you two make it work," Baekhyun answers, eyes poring into Sehun with all the solemnity that he doesn't usually possess as a quality. Sehun nods, the words trying to register in his mind but the voices, their hands keep throwing Baekhyun's words out, casting them as unwelcoming.
Sehun needs a piece of sanity.
"You will be okay," Baekhyun continues, both of his hands are on Sehun's shoulders and he has moved to the back so Sehun couldn't see the expression his best man is donning at the moment. 'He'll be okay and you two are going to be fine."
Baekhyun's head leans forward, his chin tickling Sehun's shoulder through the fabric of the jacket. His mouth is so near to Sehun's ear, that his next set of words is dropped to a whisper, with the intention of soothing the anxiety building in Sehun's heart and warming the pair of cold feet Sehun has on his wedding day.
"The two of you are going to be okay, I promise."
And Sehun tries to keep that in mind as he stands at the end of the aisle, on the pillar with Baekhyun next to him. He feels his lips part in astonishment, his fast pace of his heart slowing down at the sight of Jongin walking down the aisle, looking suave in a white suit. His hair is gelled back, eyes clearer than the blue skies outside of the church. Sehun feels Baekhyun's pat on his shoulder and a little shove to get his feet moving to the front where Jongin now stands.
The shock must have been so evident on Sehun's features that Jongin tries to stifle the giggles from spilling out of his lips. He smiles shyly and places his fingers tenderly on Sehun's wrist, drumming them against his skin for a few seconds before pulling away. Sehun's lips ease into a smile at Jongin and he realises he has been worrying for absolutely nothing. He loves Jongin. Jongin loves him. They are going to be just fine.
Sehun can feel the flame burning bright on the palm of his hand, crackling every time Jongin smiles at him, scarring his skin.
The flame grows, hues of orange and red mixing in together and then the priest says, the beginning of the ceremony, the beginning of their forever.
“Let's begin.”
June 25th 2015
There's a crack of the door opening, the light from the hallway outside peeking into the dark apartment and the soft sound of padded footsteps from the door towards the living room, clicking the door closed. Curtains are closed, blocking the view of the starry sky outside, blocking the world out, isolating the apartment from outside.
He peeks an eye open, his sight is already adjusted to the darkness he lives in, and he catches the silhouette of a too familiar figure padding towards him timidly and with uncertain steps.
“I thought you've forgotten about the apartment,” Sehun speaks up, traces of bitterness are found in his voice and he doesn't bother to hide it. He doesn't bother at all.
He's exhausted, frankly. His eyes hold heavy, dark circles underneath laced with his moroseness and sleep depravity. Sehun doesn't even know what to do other than breathe and try to live through another day without another soul in the apartment, without the half of his own soul in the place he has called home. It feels suffocating with all the dust particles in the air along with the melancholy breathing along the cracks in the ceilings and walls, and of course, Sehun's heart. He has tried to go out, tried to talk to his best friends, tried to find refuge somewhere else such as his acting career but that has been a broken path from the beginning.
So he really has nothing else.
Jongin tenses up, stumbles in his steps over to Sehun. He doesn't get up from his lying position, all curled up under a thin blanket. He's too exhausted to even say a thing, and he can't find the will to say anything sugar-coated anymore. Jongin has left him, he left.
“I wrote you a note,” is all Jongin says to defend himself and Sehun doesn't even resist the urge to scoff, the sound spilling out easily without even trying to think it through.
Sehun's tired of thinking. He did that too much over the course of weeks and the outcome hasn't been pretty.
Jongin's words spark a certain kind of fury in Sehun as he throws the blanket off him and gets up, stepping closer to Jongin. It makes him stutter slightly in his anger as the boy looks the exact same, like he hasn't been affected at all by the distance. He still looks composed, handsome and fucking calm. The anger rises in Sehun's heart, boiling on a high now at the sight of Jongin so utterly fine and here Sehun is, wrecked and bruised by his act.
He jabs a finger into Jongin's chest, trying to contain the sobs from breaking out. “You fucking left, Jongin and just wrote me a note? How the hell do you expect me to react?”
Jongin raises an eyebrow, looks down to the finger pricking his shirt and his eyes wanders back to Sehun's, holding an intense gaze. He sighs, like this is nothing to him, it's a waste of time, this fight is a waste of time, “Are you that upset? It's not like I'm dead!”
He mutters softly under his breath, thinking Sehun couldn't hear but the boy has been used to picking up small sounds in the dark, shelving them into a box, “How typical of a melodramatic actor.”
Sehun takes a step back, the knife is lodged in his chest and he has taken a blow to his lifeline. It's slicing through his heart, cutting off his air, cutting off everything. He could still feel it though, the sharp end of the knife poking into the most vital, sensitive organ of his system, stabbing right where his emotions lie. It is going to scar more than any kind of wound, a huge cut over his chest, gushing out blood.
He whispers, so softly with disbelief evident in his voice. There is no strength on Sehun's end, Jongin wins just like what he wanted, just like fucking always and Sehun is always left, defeated and hurt on the wooden floor at the expense of the boy he loves.
“Did you literally just-?” Sehun shakes his head, unbelieving. His voice is strained, it hurts to even talk to Jongin. “You think it was nothing, don't you?”
When Jongin doesn't answer, Sehun pulls out the knife from his chest, laughing humourlessly as it drops to the floor with a loud clang. “You never cared, you think it's alright to leave your fucking husband alone in the apartment for weeks?!”
Jongin's voice is low, warning implied in his tone, “I don't want to fight, Sehun.”
Sehun scrunches up his nose, it's disgusting to even witness this, to even care at all but his heart, even when it's bleeding, is still beating and thumping against his ribcage for the writer he has learnt to love years ago.
“Tell me, Jongin,” Sehun whispers, eyes watering at this point. His voice is shaking, his hands are shaking, he's too careless with his heart. “Did the distance even matter? Or were you too blissed out, fuckin-”
“Could you just fucking shut up?” Jongin lashes out at him, his eyes are burning a bright red and Sehun wants to laugh once more at the ridiculous fight they are having. Jongin doesn't even care, this is nothing. This is nothing. Leaving Sehun for a few weeks had been nothing to him. It's all just melodramatic and absolutely unnecessary to Jongin.
A burden, that's what Sehun is to him, he realises with a pang. The revelation of it all spins around in his head and he chuckles, ducking his head low to hide the tears breaking out, flowing down his cheeks. Jongin has won.
Sehun retreats backwards, grabbing his keys and wallet from the dining table. There's still a smile on his face but it's void of any happiness just like this place is to him, just like everything in this apartment. He would include Jongin as well but the memories, the flashbacks of their shared bliss are too bright in the rearview of his mind, still fresh like the open wound on his chest.
Perhaps, that's why it's hurting Sehun too much. He hasn't forgotten, not yet, not ever. And there Jongin stands, hands shoved into his pockets, aloofness expressed on his features, thinking that the pain that he has caused Sehun is nothing.
Then, Sehun decides for himself, that he shall be nothing to Jongin.
He turns the knob in his hand, opening a crack just enough for him to slip through. Sehun doesn't say a word, doesn't bother to look back though he wants to, just to keep a piece of Jongin in his mind despite everything.
And he leaves, pieces of his shattered heart tracing his footsteps.
August 16th 2010
“How's Jongin?” That's how Baekhyun casually slips in the question as he and Sehun lean against the bar counter, watching Kyungsoo wipe tables in time for the opening of the Kitchen.
They were supposed to be helping but knowing that Sehun is absolutely lazy and Baekhyun is utterly incompetent in doing any type of work, Kyungsoo decides to shoo them away to the side while he works on cleaning the entire bar himself, with a little help from the bartender, Yixing even though he's not supposed to come in until an hour later.
Sehun accidentally chokes on his drink, almost sputtering the liquid out as Baekhyun looks at from the corner of his eye with a knowing gaze while sipping on his straw. Baekhyun, with a smug expression on his face, continues without even hearing Sehun's answer, “So there is something going on, huh?”
The coughing finally stops and Sehun mutters a sarcastic 'thank you' to Baekhyun. The elder's smirk grows, and Sehun slaps his arm, cutting the smirk off into a wince. Sehun smiles, wiping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, “Nothing's going on. We just meet up and hang out sometimes.”
“Ah, kids these days...” Baekhyun raises a suggestive brow, adding air quotes to his words, “'hang out'?”
“Will you just stop?” Sehun's cheeks are reddening and he could feel the heat rising up, splattering his skin with a tinge of redness. He curses his pale skin and the light in the Kitchen as Baekhyun's smirk deepens, witnessing Sehun's abashment. It's embarrassing, Baekhyun's embarrassing, how does Kyungsoo keep up with him?
“Not until you admit it,” Baekhyun nudges him, his elbow tickling Sehun's ribs. He shoves Baekhyun away. “Jongin hasn't said anything but his shyness is practically an answer to the question.”
Sehun pauses, freezes in his tracks as Baekhyun's words register in his mind, a red light going off as his heart picks up pace at the meaning behind those words. A corner of his mouth twitches upwards at the thought of Jongin being shy when asked about him, at the thought of Jongin at all. Sehun shyly ducks his head to hide the smile but he knows it's a wasted effort when his best friend of a decade has caught the upward stretch of his lips.
“Whatever,” the lilt in Sehun's voice gives him away, he knows it but he can't help himself when thoughts of the writer bring him utmost happiness and it's like falling in love at a young age, wondering and fantasising. “Yeah there might be something but it's not for sure or anyt-”
Baekhyun interrupts him as he throws his arms around Sehun, forcefully pulling him into a crushing hug. Sehun almost couldn't breathe, the scent of Baekhyun's cologne invading his senses and almost making him choke on the lack of air. He tries to tell Baekhyun that but the boy doesn't give him a chance to, merely squeezes him even further.
“I'm so happy to see you happy,” Baekhyun exclaims, eyes bright and wide with the rectangular grin of his plastered on his face at the sight of Sehun being so shy about Jongin as well. The crinkles by his eyes soften as he says in a dazed tone, “I'm glad that Jongin is able to make you this happy.”
Sehun laughs, his heart bursting with all of the warmth from the sun. He murmurs just as Baekhyun embraces him again, nose snuggling into Sehun's neck, “Just as long as you don't say 'I told you so'.”
Baekhyun pulls back, the corners of his mouth are filled with all the playfulness of an excited puppy. He chuckles, “Ah! Right. I told you so.”
Sehun hits him again, this time, on his back just to spite him and delight himself in seeing his best friend coughing instead.
But the real source of happiness lies within his mind, where a box of memories revolving around Jongin is.
April 12th 2013
The streets of London are littered with people, holding bags of their own shopping trips, hanging onto their companion's arm. Tourists and Londoners alike, walk together on the streets, mixed while the only difference that separates them is the gasp of surprise that falls out of tourists' lips, as the trademarks are permanently imprinted into Londoners' minds.
Sehun hasn't stopped gawking at the scenery surrounding him, he has never imagined that he would ever step foot into a city like London. The simplicity of the city with its elegance and the history of the city embedded into every corner, it's all too much of a sight to take in within a day. Actually, too many things have happened within a day and Sehun hasn't stopped for a second to take it all in, he has always been on the run. Now, he overlooks the railing that separates him from the river and he tries to breathe in the crisp air, indulging in the scent of perfumes and colognes coming from the row of shops close by.
When Jongin woke him up yesterday with a luggage packed and two tickets slipped into their passports, Sehun wasn't sure if it was a prank or a dream. He allowed himself to be dragged to the showers, washing himself away, sleepiness still crusted in the corners of his eyes. It took him close to half an hour while they were on the drive to the airport that it was really happening, Jongin was bringing him somewhere unknown and they were going on a plane together.
His first thought had been eloping and he questioned Jongin almost to death about the location. Sehun isn't sure why he wasted his breath when they were going to find out eventually when they reached the gates and he would hear the announcement of his flight through the speakers. Jongin would merely shake his head in laughter, and continued to steer the wheel, heading straight for the airport.
Sehun stepped into the gates with a single thought; London. It flooded his entire mind, he began to imagine the city, anticipate his first few steps into a foreign city far away from New York and fantasise about the things he would do there with Jongin. Jongin, who made it all possible for Sehun to even travel such a long distance to another continent, a far away city. Jongin, who could prepare such a surprise for Sehun without even dropping a single hint. Jongin, who would go through all the difficulties and go to all the lengths to make Sehun's birthday special. Jongin, Jongin, Jongin, the one who is the first to ever think of such a gift for Sehun.
His heart swells at the thought of Jongin, who is currently capturing pictures of the scenery with a disposable camera that he would develop later on. Sehun sighs in bliss, feeling the wind carry the worries and troubles of New York away and replacing those burdened thoughts with happiness and Kim Jongin.
His birthday is perfect, every bit of perfect.
Sehun had walked out of the airport, feeling the air of London him in the face, making it more realistic than ever. He turned towards Jongin who was lagging behind him with the luggage hot on his heels. Sehun grabbed Jongin towards him, crashed his lips onto his, mouth opening against Jongin's just to allow his tongue to slide in between their mouths attached together. Jongin had his hand on Sehun's waist, thumb rubbing on the exposed skin of his cropped top and Sehun was cupping Jongin's cheeks, kissing into him as deeply as he could.
When Sehun pulled away, Jongin looked every bit dazed, eyes glazed over with lust and Sehun chuckled, whispering, “Thank you for this.”
Sehun doesn't even know how to thank Jongin enough. He woke up on the morning of his birthday due to Jongin's position on him. He blinked sleepily, squinting under the rays of sunlight coursing through the peek of the curtains. He attempted to smile at Jongin above him, though he was sure it was a grimace at the invading sunlight. Jongin merely smirked at him, the curl of his lips screamed mischief at Sehun and it should have been a warning, a clue to why Jongin was above him in that manner but he was still in disbelief over the fact that he was breathing in London air and it couldn't get any better than this.
He was wrong. So, so wrong.
Jongin crawled downwards, until he was face to face with Sehun's clothed groin. He cupped Sehun's cock through the boxers, teeth peeking out of his smirk at the sound of Sehun's groan. His nimble fingers, teasing as usual, picked the waistband of Sehun's shorts between two fingers, and snapped it against Sehun's stomach. Sehun groaned once more, almost shouting at Jongin to “hurry the fuck up and quit the tease!”
And, Jongin obeyed.
He pulled Sehun's boxers down in a flash, stared at Sehun's almost full boner for a second before indulging it fully in his mouth. Sehun let out a moan at the way his cock felt in Jongin's mouth, warmth hitting the sensitive skin of his cock. He dug his fingers into the sheets, bucking his hips up, thrusting into Jongin's mouth. Sehun could feel the vibration of Jongin's laughter around the head of his cock, and it sent tingles down Sehun's spine, a lurch down to his stomach. Jongin placed his hands down on Sehun's hipbones, forcefully pushing them down to keep him from deepthroating Jongin.
Sehun's ass rutted against the white hotel sheets, and he wanted Jongin to move, do something but before a whine could escape his lips, Jongin began sucking and kissing the head of his cock all the way down his length. Sehun had his head back, back arched. It was too early for this, too early for Jongin to be blowing him and making him wither at the expense of his touch on Sehun's skin. His fingers tickled Sehun's hipbones, tracing little doodles as he continued sucking Sehun off, a lick and a little squeeze of Sehun's balls. Jongin lightly nibbled on Sehun's cock, making Sehun hiss but it cut off into a low moan when Jongin flicked his thumbs on his balls.
It only took Sehun another kiss at the head and a grab at his balls for him to have his release coming down Jongin's throat.
Jongin pulled away, chuckled, his tone low and raspier than before. Sehun's eyes are darkened, mirroring Jongin's. He tugged on Jongin's ear, pulling him to his face before pecking his lips, and deepening the kiss with their tongues moving together in sync. He tasted himself on the tip of Jongin's tongue but he didn't care.
Jongin laughed into the kiss, eyes brighter than the morning sky, and whispered, “Happy birthday, Sehun.”
Here they are, standing before the London Eye. Due to Sehun's wish, Jongin purchased the tickets for them, and waved Sehun's protests away of wanting to pay for it with a “It's your day, Sehun. I want to treat you. You deserve all of this”.
Jongin steps into the capsule, darting a hand out for Sehun to take in order to follow his steps. Sehun stifles the chuckle, and laughs instead at Jongin's attempt. He takes it anyway, welcoming the warmth that awaits in the press of their hands together. Jongin squeezes his palm, smiling at him and Sehun can't help himself, he shies away from the writer, eyes falling to the ground.
“Why are you treating me like a royal?” Sehun says, instead. Jongin's eyes are still on him, he could feel the gaze burning into his scalp. He focuses his gaze on the ascending of the capsule, reaching further into the sky, grazing the top. “We may be in London but you don't have to act this way, Jongin.”
Sehun flicks his eyes upwards and sees the roll of Jongin's eyes at his words, looking baffled as if the question Sehun had asked was stupid. He pokes Sehun's nose with the tip of his index finger, bewildering Sehun for a second at such a gesture and Jongin laughs at his cross-eyed look.
“Like I said before, you deserve it, every single thing.”
Sehun couldn't say anything, too speechless to even decipher a single word to utter in reply to Jongin's words so he keeps his lips shut, eyes wandering from Jongin to the view of London. The sight is stunning, breathtaking and the clear reflection of the sun on the ocean stares at him, shining and rippling with every wave. Sehun is constantly taken away with the beauty London brings but as his eyes trail back to the writer next to him, he realises that he has been lucky to have all the beauty in the world in front of him, holding his hand and spending his birthday with him.
Asters blossom within his chest, in the wake of spring. These are words Jongin would write if he held a pen to stain Sehun's skin, to weave words into the unwavering love Sehun feels in his heart for Jongin.
Their capsule is beginning to descend, reaching closer to earth rather than the sky. Jongin suddenly releases his hold on Sehun's hand, shoving it into the pocket of his coat to search for something. Sehun has a perplexed look on, eyebrows raised at Jongin when he pulls out a black box with a white lace ribbon donning the top. Jongin turns to faces him fully, Sehun could see him taking a deep breath. His nerves are rising, his pulse picking up a faster pace at the sight of Jongin.
“I saw this earlier on and I just had to pick it up for your birthday,” Jongin begins, words tugging on Sehun's heartstrings already. “It reminds me of you; dazzling and utterly ethereal so I knew that it was going to be the perfect birthday gift for you.”
Sehun parts his lips to disagree but Jongin must have seen it coming as he holds up a finger to interrupt Sehun. “I know you're going to say that this London trip is already the perfect gift but it's not enough to me.”
Jongin flits his eyes from the box to Sehun's, holding a strong gaze filled with intensity that it takes Sehun's breath away faster than the view of London. He continues, voice falling to a lower pitch, softening around the edges, making Sehun's eyes water slightly, “You deserve the universe, Sehun.”
And his fingers pry the top off, revealing a ring underneath with a single diamond gem on the top of the circle, catching the light of the sun, gleaming under the light. Sehun's eyes are blinded, filled with tears at the corners and he's speechless, words failing him once more and throat too dry to even have a voice. Jongin picks the ring between his fingers and grabs Sehun's right hand, sliding it onto his fourth finger, the fit is snug and comfortable like it's meant to be.
“When we're ready...” Jongin starts, once he is done, sliding the ring on Sehun's hand. His eyes hold a tint of shyness as he looks into Sehun's brown irises. “I'll slide this ring onto your left hand instead.”
Sehun looks up, tears at bay, ears unbelieving at the implication Jongin has made. Marriage, the word registers into his mind, and he strains to keep the tears in, tries to comprehend the moment at hand.
He chokes out, “You're embarrassing.” A lovely laugh slips past Jongin's lips, feeling Sehun's ears with the tune of it. “Are all writers this romantic or am I the only fortunate one?”
Jongin giggles, fingers tracing the ring on Sehun's hand. His gaze keeps falling to the ring, a sense of disbelief lingers in his gaze as well. He answers Sehun, “You're the only one, babe.”
Sehun half shouts, a crimson blush painting the paleness of his cheeks, “Drop the pet name!” and embraces Jongin in a hug, as the writer's laugh bubbles even further, pulling him close to Sehun's chest. He whispers the three words over and over again, unable to fully express his gratitude and love for the writer in his arms. Sehun leans back and dives into a kiss on Jongin's full lips, nibbling on his bottom lip and drawing a low moan out of Jongin.
The capsule reaches the ground. They have their footing, Sehun has his hand in Jongin's with the gem catching the light of the sun in its reflected stone. Sehun can't contain the smile creeping onto his face, and he turns to see the same on Jongin's fuller lips.
Kim Jongin is the perfect birthday gift life has ever given him.
November 24th 2012
“Who or what has been your inspiration for your new romance novel, 'Dandelions'?”
An upward curl of his lips, sudden and automatic at the thought that comes to mind. Sehun peruses curiously, eyes never leaving the screen that overlooks Jongin during the interview.
The smile has creeped its way into his voice, as well. He turns his head suddenly, eyes poring into the camera, staring into Sehun. The pace picks up, racing as usual at the fire burning within Jongin's irises directed at him.
“My fiancé, no one else but him.”
August 7th 2015
The stare is unfaltering, fixated on Sehun, scrutinising him further under two pairs of eyes. He knows that he looks terrible with the bags hanging heavily under his eyes, rimming with dark circles. He is too thin, he realises that when he pulls his jumper over his body and feels it overwhelm his frail body underneath. Sehun's bones are peeking out of his cheeks, lips too chapped and hair greasier than the gel Baekhyun has on now. His hands are always trembling, easily shaken by the light breeze of the fall season. There are shivers breaking out all over his body even when he's drowned in that huge red jumper and baggy denim jeans.
“How have you been?” Kyungsoo asks earnestly, munching on his banana muffin. Baekhyun hasn't said anything yet, eyes still burning a hole into Sehun's scalp. Sehun mumbles the usual 'I'm fine', playing out the lie as he fixes a small smile on to fool his best friends.
Baekhyun's frown deepens.
“Are you sure?” Kyungsoo asks, his voice softer this time like as if he's approaching a timid animal who might run away at the most sudden sound. Sehun scrunches his nose at the comparison he made in his mind, and snaps at Kyungsoo, eyes flashing at the both of them to just leave him alone, “I said I'm fine.”
“Then, why are your hands shaking, Sehun?” Baekhyun's voice flows into his ears, sharp and knife-like. Sehun doesn't want to look at Baekhyun because he knows he'd find anger laced with worry in those irises. He knows that they care, they just want the best for him, they want to help him.
The issue at hand is that they can't.
Sehun has spent weeks locked inside his room, refusing to even step out of the front door to get the mail. The only place he visits is the kitchen in the apartment to grab a glass of water time to time, and to eat a few meals only to have them pouring out of his mouth, his head hung over the toilet bowl, stomach suffering the most pain of it all. He can't sleep at night, the darkness gets to him, making him squirm around in the sheets, reaching for another body of warmth and realising with the hardest pang to his heart that there is no one else there except him. He'll stay up, eyes focused on the screen of the television, watching whatever is on to fill his mind momentarily until the sun rises. It has become a routine, to sleep in during the light, and to be awake during the dark. Sehun has grown accustomed to the life he has made for himself now, only living off the air he breathes in the apartment.
Until Baekhyun and Kyungsoo called.
Sehun couldn't find it in him to say no so he agreed to whatever hang-out his best friends have planned for three of them. He hasn't even said a thing, hasn't even spilled a single word to them about his life right now. He has been keeping it on the low, has been successful in not saying anything. Sehun had even planned to fake a headache after twenty minutes into their gathering just so he could escape and return to the life waiting for him at the apartment. Or the lack of life, Sehun should say.
But as his eyes slowly flit upwards, meeting Baekhyun's concerned gaze along with Kyungsoo's, tears build up behind his eyes, threatening to fall if he blinks. Sehun swallows, gulping, as his words waver on the tip of his tongue, wanting to spill out, to spit the poison he has been keeping in himself for weeks.
Kyungsoo's hand reaches over the table, landing on top of Sehun's, the pad of his thumb rubbing gingerly on his skin. His voice falls to a whisper as he says, “Tell us.”
And Sehun... he breaks.
He lays the shattered pieces on the top of the table, as his voice trembles under the pain of the memories. He keeps his eyes downcast, unprepared for the pity that is going to appear on his best friends' features. Sehun's voice is small, his shoulders slouched, and his heart is beating so slowly, it's almost a dead line.
It still hurts.
“Jongin left,” Sehun begins, he hears the slight gasp coming out of Kyungsoo's mouth and he feels the elder's hand gripping onto his tightly, like he might waver or fade away. Sehun isn't even sure if he could stay any longer, the shards of his broken heart are gushing out blood, he's going to run dry someday. “I thought that he was going to come back like he usually does but it has been three weeks and he-”
Sehun chokes, feeling the sobs slip into his voice, the tears are spilling down his cheeks in a waterfall. His voice is so hoarse, utterly wrecked like himself as he says, “Jongin is not home, he's not there anymore.”
He feels another hand lay on top of his and he finally looks up, seeing Baekhyun's gaze on him, the concern isn't wavering. There is no pity written on their features, just plain sympathy and worry etched into the furrow of their eyebrows and the frowns on their lips. Baekhyun's dainty fingers drum a beat on the back of Sehun's hand, easing the tense muscles there, relaxing the pace of Sehun's heart.
“I'm sorry,” Kyungsoo whispers and Sehun wants to laugh because it's not any of their faults. It is his own fault for falling deeply in love, for believing in such an idea, for even hoping.
He should have stayed hopeless, the pain is much lesser than the one lodged in the middle of his chest, cutting off his oxygen.
“You're welcome to stay with us,” Baekhyun suggests, eyes soft and pleading. Sehun lets a smile show on his face, this time it's not forced, a natural curl of his lips tugging upwards at the sight of his best friends and everything he has been missing since he locked himself away due to the heartbreak.
Why did Sehun even stay in a place that is the bane of their marriage, the home he has lost, where all the flashbacks lie to haunt him in the darkness?
The revelation washes over Sehun, as he stares into his best friends' eyes. There is new hope bubbling in his chest, killing all off the monsters that have taken refuge in his heart. The ghosts have withered away and his mind is clearer, his vision is sharper. The tears are the last remnants of his pain, the last blood shed.
Sehun opens his eyes to the light, welcoming it to fill his insides, setting a newfound flame.
He wakes up, wanting to live for the first time ever since.
July 16th 2013
The sun is bright, spreading its rays wide over the park, illuminating Jongin in a glow. Sehun's eyes hurt, there are crinkles around them but he dares to endure the pain, staring at the only light in his life.
The writer takes Sehun's hand into his, smiling brighter than the summer sun, with hope etched in the crinkles around his own pair of eyes. Jongin pauses in his tracks, making Sehun stop as well and he looks at the writer, head tilted with a question embedded in the raise of his eyebrow. He sees Jongin take a deep intake of breath, and it's all too familiar, too similar to the memory Sehun has in his mind, but he watches anyway, waiting on the sidelines as the writer slowly falls to one knee, neck craning upwards to meet the disbelief in Sehun's eyes. He parts his lips, words flow out of his mouth with all the sincerity and love etched in his heart.
“Sehun, we've been together for three years now and this may be a rush to public's eye but I feel like I've known you forever. The love I have for you flows through my veins, thicker than blood itself. I breathe in your air every morning, every night, every single day of my life and I want to breathe you in for the rest of my life, for the rest of our lives together. There is no one else I would rather be with than you, Sehun, the only one who loves me for me, the most sentimental and genuine person I've ever met.”
Jongin reaches for Sehun's right hand, pulling the gifted ring out of his fourth finger and into Jongin's palm. He picks the ring between his thumb and index finger, eyes flicking upwards once more to continue his speech.
“Remember when I said I'll put this on your left hand when we are ready?” Jongin drops Sehun's right hand to grab his left instead, touching Sehun's skin gingerly, fingers brushing against his softly like a kiss of the breeze lightly hitting the hairs on his skin. The ring hovers over Sehun's left hand, like a promise.
“I love you. I love all of your quirks, your flaws, your habits and I'll live with them, I'll learn to be patient with you. I've learnt about love when I'm with you, so here's to more in the future. If you said yes, that is.”
Jongin's eyes hold Sehun's gaze, glistening with hope in the pools of his irises, dripping snowdrops to his cheeks. There's a crack in his voice, sending shivers down Sehun's spine despite the heat of the sun hitting the back of his neck. Sehun's breath is taken away, eyes too immersed in Jongin's as his lips move, uttering the words that fuel the flames within.
“Will you marry me?”
March 2nd 2016
There is a grin fixated on his face, unmoving unlike the line in front of Sehun or the quick flick of his hand as it glides across the page, staining the paper with his penmanship. Sehun holds a copy of the novel, Daffodils, close to his chest, feeling the thickness and heaviness against his arm.
He's just a person away, and Sehun waits, holding his breath for those eyes to flick towards him, meeting his gaze with surprise flashing in those brown irises Sehun has grown to love a long, long time ago.
Almost a year, it has been ever since the last of Jongin's footsteps left the apartment, the place they both called home once.
Jongin's smile is the same, it subdues from a grin into a simple curl of his lips, softer at the corners like it's only for Sehun. His heart thumps loudly against his chest, a habit that never ends, something that never changes when it comes to Kim Jongin. Sehun slides the book over to the rightful writer, watching as Jongin take it into his hold without any questions asked.
It has been a while, Sehun thinks, yet his heart wouldn't cooperate, still beating for the writer.
Sehun peruses closely as Jongin opens the book, flipping to the dedication page. He signs on the paper, longer than the others. Sehun's hand reaches out for the book, instinctively when Jongin's hand lifts off the page, having signed his penmanship on his copy but Jongin stops him, interrupts him by lacing his fingers through the gaps of Sehun's. Sehun gasps, secretly welcoming the warmth Jongin always brings to his heart, but he tries to tug backwards only for Jongin to pull him in even more.
“Missed you,” Jongin whispers, his breath fanning over Sehun's upper lip and Sehun tenses, freezing all over at the words Jongin uttered. There's a smile creeping onto his face but he can't allow it take over. Jongin pulls back, an easy smile falling onto his own lips. He says louder, “It's nice to see you again, Sehun.”
Sehun merely nods, unable to trust his voice. He's afraid that he'll spill out all of his inner desires, his inner thoughts. He has built another wall, he can't have Kim Jongin breaking into his heart again so he grabs his copy of the book, letting a polite smile show on his face, directing at the writer but he's sure that a little fondness has been displayed on the curl of his lips. Jongin's lips break into a grin, laughing at Sehun.
He takes his first steps away, turning around to head towards the exit of the bookstore. Sehun could feel the burn of Jongin's stare on his back, but he doesn't turn. Not now, not yet or ever. Not ever, he decides. Sehun's feet leave the bookstore, stepping into the streets of New York, feeling the air of spring hit his face. He welcomes it, along with new white daffodils blossoming in his chest where his heart lies, promising a new beginning.
Sehun pries open the book, nimble fingers flipping to the dedication page where Jongin has signed and his eyes skim over the words. He has seen the words multiple times already, having read the book a few times when he bought it last week. He probably has the words memorised and ready on the tip of his tongue if anyone asks. There's a small smile settling on his lips when he sees Jongin's improvisation and the messy penmanship he's always stubborn to change.
Maybe I wrote this for you, m̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶.̶
One | Two
++ flowers mentioned in the fanfic:
asters - a symbol of love, patience.
(scarlet) lilies - a symbol of high-souled aspirations... whatever that means. I just wanted sehun to receive a bouquet of lilies.
dandelions - coquetry.
marigolds - as jongin explained, pain and cruelty.
daffodils - new beginnings.