Pandora's Bottle (3/3)
Despite Chanyeol still being clueless about why Kyungsoo is suddenly acting like an adolescent girl discovering the joys of PMS, he quickly realizes that mentioning Baekhyun in front of his roommate instantly lowers the room temperature by about 5 degrees Celsius. So Chanyeol starts substituting destinations for the names of who he is meeting whenever he leaves the house, but somehow Kyungsoo always seems to know when Baekhyun is involved. (That may or may not have something to do with the fact Chanyeol only set foot in the campus library about once a semester before he started tutoring Baekhyun, but whatever.)
When Chanyeol finally does find a spare moment to think about things it suddenly strikes him as rather odd that Kyungsoo seems to hate anything and everything to do with their upstairs neighbor, especially since he barely knows the guy. It’s really not fair of Kyungsoo to judge a new acquaintance this harshly and Chanyeol is convinced that if he can just get the two to spend quality time together, preferably with some alcohol involved, Kyungsoo will realize what an idiot he’s being and everything can go back to normal and they can eat non-potatoes again.
Buoyed by his genius realization, Chanyeol rushes into the kitchen where Kyungsoo is hunched over the table, worksheets and graphs of integers and exam review papers spread in an avalanche in front of him. He’d been up until 3 AM the night before doing and redoing practice problems for the upcoming calc final and from the looks of things it’s not going so well.
“Do you want to go out tonight with me and Baek and Jongdae? It’s Baekhyun’s real birthday today!” Kyungsoo looks up from a differential equation to blink at Chanyeol.
“What possessed you to think I would willingly associate with someone who thinks it’s acceptable to celebrate their own birthday twice in the space of a month?”
“Well, it makes more sense than having the second celebration in, like, November,” Chanyeol reasons, stealing a strip of cold jeon from the pan on the stove. “Except hey, we could totally have a joint party then, for my birthday and his half birthday!”
“Get out of my kitchen!”
“Soo, please! Even if you won’t talk to me anymore, at least let me help you with your homework,” Chanyeol pleads, uncomfortably guilty about how this spat is affecting his best friend’s quality of life and cortisol levels. Kyungsoo gives him a long, hard, long stare.
“Fine, but only if we can agree to restrict our comments to mathematics.” Chanyeol nods and pulls up a chair next to Kyungsoo’s.
Chanyeol is hopeful but even more confused when Kyungsoo melts into his side half way through the third problem on the list, curling his left hand into Chanyeol’s T-shirt and resting his head against the dip of Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol’s breath catches, the sudden heat pressed up against him flushing him with a familiar warmth. His chest aches at the casual intimacy after weeks of estrangement and he’s dying to ask what this means, why Kyungsoo is being so confusing, but Chanyeol keeps his promise and keeps his mouth shut except to point out when Kyungsoo forgets a minus sign.
They finish the final problem just as the last rays of sun are starting to slant through the window. Kyungsoo drops his pencil with a heavy sigh but doesn’t move to get up. Chanyeol wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s slender shoulders and gives them a soft squeeze. Maybe now would be a good time to bring up the...whatever this problem is that they’re having, but Chanyeol’s throat sticks around the words like a dried out lump of potato pancake.
Maybe it’s the distorted glow of the fading light that has them suspended in this fragile sphere of inertia, afraid to blink and disturb the stillness but all the while oppressed under the growing dread of this, whatever this is, being nearly at an end. Chanyeol realizes with a lump in his throat that more than resenting the unpleasantness of having to tiptoe around a volatile Kyungsoo, what he’s really missed is just spending time with his best friend, talking his ear off about random shit like the new guitar riff Yixing just taught him, or listening to Kyungsoo rant about his douche calc professor’s douche mullet, or just breathing peaceful air in the same room at the same time. And Kyungsoo is not usually into the skinship, like not at all, but this cuddling is pretty nice. Chanyeol could be ok with this addition to their relationship.
The moment splinters like a shattering casserole dish when Chanyeol’s phone buzzes and they both jump, Kyungsoo’s head knocking painfully into Chanyeol’s jaw. It’s a text from Baekhyun.
Heyyyeyyy~! meet us downstairs in 10
get ready to partayy, sexy!
“Hey...I gotta go now,” Chanyeol starts hesitantly, tugging at the hem of his shirt still clutched in Kyungsoo’s fingers. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
Kyungsoo just pushes him away and stalks into the bathroom. The shower is still running when Chanyeol locks the front door behind him.
On Friday afternoon Chanyeol comes home from class to find an empty apartment and a foot high mountain of jeon piled on their largest serving platter. This time it’s so burnt Chanyeol can’t even taste the green onions around the pungent flavor of charred Teflon. He checks his phone to find a message from Luhan.
don’t you worry, baby
ur roomies safe ad sound with me for the weeknd
We’ll see you Mundey
So of course Chanyeol feels instantly lonelier and goes upstairs to bother Baekhyun and Jongdae.
“Yo,” Jongdae greets him at the door. “What’s up. We’re making potato pancakes, you want some?”
“Um, no thanks,” Chanyeol refuses politely, trying not to grimace. He thinks he still has a stubborn flake of Teflon stuck in his back teeth. “Hey, is B--”
“Lover Boy went to Cheongju for the weekend. His girlfriend has a dance recital!” Jongin’s voice crows from the kitchen.
“Oh, I--what?” Chanyeol, once again, is confused.
“Yeah, he ditched us for his girlfriend,” Jongdae explains, leaning on the doorframe casually as if Chanyeol’s not gaping in shock like he just watched a small horde of sewer rats scurry by. “You sure you don’t want any jeon? Jonginnie’s cooking is da shizzle!”
“Yeah...yeah I think I’m good…”
Chanyeol stumbles back downstairs and flops onto the sofa in the dark living room, his brain already in overdrive dissecting every moment of every interaction he’s ever had with Byun Baekhyun to come to the horrifying realization that maybe Baekhyun smiling until his eyes disappeared and Baekhyun belting impromptu duets with him on post-study noraebang dates and Baekhyun feeding him cold french fries in the cafeteria was just Baekhyun being Baekhyun, and maybe it didn’t mean anything special after all.
Maybe he just built it all up in his head as a cover for how much he misses Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo...shit.
Chanyeol is so caught up in all of this overanalyzing that he completely forgets to do important life things like charge his phone, shower, or finish eating the leaning tower of charred jeon.
Basically, he just wimps on the couch the whole weekend.
“Just, wow. I mean, I didn’t know ‘wimp’ was an actual verb until I walked in on this!” Luhan announces in a too loud, too smug voice when he waltzes through the door sometime later. “Did you skip class again? Professor Lee’s gonna be pissed.”
“Wha…?” Chanyeol pulls his head out from under a sofa cushion.
“Dude, it’s 3:57 PM on Monday, May 26, 2014, Year of the Horse, and you totally just missed our Econ final exam review.” Luhan closes the front door until it’s cracked open just one annoying centimeter and trips over to the fridge to steal a beer.
“Today’s Monday?”
“See you on exam day, loser!” Luhan makes a hand heart and skips out, leaving both the fridge and the front door wide open. Chanyeol moans and shoves his head back under the sofa cushion, too close to an untimely end of Death By Wimping to even care if he gets blamed for it. It’s not like he could possibly fall further from Kyungsoo’s good graces anyway. He’s already at, like, coal mine shaft depths of disgrace.
“Do you want to know who left that cheesecake on the front porch?”
“Huh?” Chanyeol scrambles up, clawing at the back of the couch for support. The voice in the doorway is not Luhan’s.
“The triple berry cheesecake with mocha crumble crust, dumbass! That was from me.” Kyungsoo pouts in silhouette in the open doorway, his eyes an indistinguishable darkness beneath furrowed brows. Chanyeol bursts out laughing, all the pent up feels suddenly loosing themselves from the prison of his ribcage, even though that probably isn’t the safest reaction have in front of Kyungsoo right now, considering they’re barely even talking to each other.
“Why would you do that, Soo?” Chanyeol snorts, another stream of sick laughter rippling out through his nose. “Did you set it on the porch to cool and just forgot about it? Are you turning into me?” Kyungsoo drops his bag to the linoleum with a heavy clunk, but fortunately nothing shatters.
“Fuck, Yeol! I did it ‘cause I like you.”
“What?” Chanyeol thinks he must have heard wrong but his breath catches anyway, squeezed around another bubble of laughter spasming in his chest.
“I like you!”
“Haha, that’s good to hear! I was beginning to really wonder, between all the burnt potatoes and avoidance going on aro--”
“No, you dolt!” Kyungsoo stamps his foot, one harsh resounding slap of rubber sole against vinyl flooring. “I like you!”
“Oh,” Chanyeol blinks, his nervous system so torn between more flailing or just toppling over the back of the sofa that it renders him motionless and tingling like a live wire plunged in a swimming pool full of electric eels. “‘Like’ as in--”
“As in I never used to care about your stupid friends as long as they kept their obnoxiousness far away from my zen, but this time it just makes me so angry that he’s monopolizing all of your free time and then when you come home all you can talk about is him and his popped collars and his pink polos and his glitter and--!”
“Wait! Who is h--”
“Baekhyun,” he seethes through flaring nostrils. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know! And don’t you dare interrupt me, Park Chanyeol!” Kyungsoo bellows, striding in to clutch the back of a kitchen chair, the door still wide open. “I’ve been putting up with your nonsense for weeks so now you’re just going to shut up and listen til I’m done and if you think for a moment that I’m going to forgive you just because you’re fucking adorable and simultaneously ravishing then you--!”
“Ravishing?” Chanyeol is mouthing soundless syllables and pointing at his nose. “Soo, did you seriously just say--”
“If you would just pay attention to me you would--!”
Chanyeol’s phone buzzes against his leg and he instinctively unlocks the screen to check it. It’s from Joonmyun.
Hey, sorry to interrupt your VIC (very important conversation, hahaha ^^)
but could you maybe keep it down a little? Jongdae
has a headband
*headache, oops >:P
“Are you seriously going to ignore me right now?” Kyungsoo chokes, his chest starting to heave under his unseasonably thick cable knit sweater. “And what the hell does kkaebsong even mean!”
“Hey, Kyungsoo, cou--”
“Quit trying to avoid me!” Kyungsoo hisses, and that’s really rich coming from him, but Chanyeol just smiles patiently and tries again.
“Soo, we really--”
“Oh my god, stop trying to change the subject or we’ll never get to the hot making out in bed because we’re stranded in this unrequited hell hole of a love triangle that isn’t even a triangle anymore!” Kyungsoo shrieks, the legs of the chair in his fists rattling against the floor as he quivers in furor. Apparently Chanyeol wasn’t the only one around here with pent up feels.
Since words aren’t working, Chanyeol decides the only logical thing to do is physically shut Kyungsoo up. As in with his lips. It works out quite nicely, Chanyeol’s arms drawing him close to soothe away his shivers as Kyungsoo sighs into his mouth, and Chanyeol feels an immense flood of relief, like this is the punchline to one of Luhan’s awful jokes he’s been hanging on for a week. Except no, this is way better than anything that has to do with Luhan, this is like...this feels like home.
Kyungsoo pulls away, his face adorably pink and torn between angry and star struck, and then they’re both giggling and leaning in to try it again.
“So…” Kyungsoo says, chewing at the swell of his lip as Chanyeol pulls away for breath. “Before this goes any farther I would really like an answer.”
“Oh, is it my turn to talk now?” Chanyeol teases. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.
“Yeol…”
“I guess I had a minor epiphany with my head under the sofa cushion.” Kyungsoo narrows his eyes and Chanyeol gives a careful cough. “Well, not gonna lie, I maybe had a tiny smidgeon of a crush on, um, our neighbor,” Chanyeol mumbles, not sure if he still needs to avoid Baekhyun’s name in conversation, “but when I found out he was unavailable and was forced to actually think about it all...well, I realized my feelings for him were nowhere near the intensity of what I feel for you. Also, Baekhyun can’t cook like at all. Not even burnt pancakes!” Kyungsoo swats him on the shoulder before pulling him in for another kiss. “But most importantly, I like you too!”
“Ok,” Kyungsoo says, his voice shy but he meets Chanyeol’s gaze full on. “In that case, I accept your feelings, Mr. Park.”
Once finals are over, Jongdae and Baekhyun invite everyone over for a huge celebratory dinner before they all clear out for vacation or summer jobs or whatever. Baekhyun’s girlfriend, Sehun, comes up for the party. She’s like a foot taller than him and has him totally pussy whipped. Chanyeol doesn’t have time to feel jealous or awkward because he’s so wrapped up in Kyungsoo--that is, wrapped around his pinky finger.
“You know why I love you?” Kyungsoo hums, leaning back against Chanyeol’s chest as Chanyeol catches him around the middle and buries his nose in the soft waves of Kyungsoo’s hair. They’re washing dishes in the kitchen while everyone else cleans up in the living room, Luhan directing traffic from the top of Jongdae’s dining room table as he belts out pirate shanties.
“Because I always eat your pancakes, carcinogenous Teflon sprinkles and all?” Chanyeol teases and pinches Kyungsoo’s sides. Kyungsoo yelps, flinging soap bubbles at Chanyoel’s face. A clump of foam hits the side of his nose and slides down into a lopsided moustache.
“No, you idiot!” Kyungsoo reaches up with the corner of Chanyeol’s abandoned dishtowel to gently wipe away the soap. He clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed but Chanyeol knows he isn’t, not really, not when he’s staring up with adoration shining in his dark eyes. He drops the towel to smooth his thumbs over Chanyeol’s cheekbones and Chanyeol uncurls one arm from Kyungsoo’s hips to cup his jaw.
“Ok,” Chanyeol whispers, dipping forward to kiss the bridge of Kyungsoo’s nose. “Why do you love me?” He flutters his eyelashes and Kyungsoo gives him a dark look that only makes Chanyeol melt closer into the curves of his body, pressing his hips into the counter.
“Because you loved me enough to pretend to hate them,” Kyungsoo says, surprising a laugh out of Chanyeol.
“Well then,” Chanyeol gasps, still catching his breath, “if we love each that much, what are we holding back for?”
Kyungsoo answers by attaching his mouth to Chanyeol’s and sucking hard. Chanyeol moans and parts his lips for the first sweep of Kyungsoo’s tongue that leaves a wake of heat in his mouth. He buries his fingers in Kyungsoo’s hair, Kyungsoo reaching up to scrabble at Chanyeol’s shoulders for leverage. He drops a hand to the jut of Chanyeol’s hip and slips his fingers under the hem of his T-shirt. His palm is still warm from the hot water and Chanyeol shudders as it glides across his abs. He tilts Kyungsoo’s head and presses deeper into the heat of his mouth.
They pull away with a start when at a sharp gasp behind them and turn to find a red-faced Joonmyun frozen in the middle of the kitchen, clutching a collection of empty beer cans. “Sorry!” he stammers, dropping a can that rolls to a stop at the heel of Chanyeol’s sneaker. “Garbage bags? I-sorry!”
“Grosssss!” Jongin hisses loudly, sauntering in to attach himself to Joonmyun’s waist. He buries his face in the back of Joonmyun’s neck and Joonmyun loses the rest of his cans with a startled moan.
“How come no one ever tells me when something exciting is happening?” Baekhyun whines loudly as he dodges around Zitao, pushing into the rapidly crowding kitchen. They all tumble out of the way as Luhan careens through the door, swinging an empty whiskey bottle as he finishes the 36th verse of What Do You Do With A Drunken Sex God on a piercing high note that has Jongdae plugging his ears with leftover cheese puffs. He crashes into the dish drain and Kyungsoo jumps back into Chanyeol’s arms as Luhan emerges with the blender capsized on his elbow.
“Ayyy, love birds!” he slurs, “where has all the rum gone?” Joonmyun steps in to rescue the blender as Kyungsoo calmly hands Luhan a glass of water, shoves everyone out of the kitchen, and goes back to kissing Chanyeol. Obviously. He doesn’t need 36 verses to know the answer to that question.
(part one here) (part two here)