Love Me To Pieces (A Kris and Chanyeol Love Story)
They like to think that this is love.
a/n: a repost from my tumblr
“You look beautiful” Kris says, pulling Chanyeol’s jet-black hair away from the younger’s forehead. He can’t let Chanyeol ruin his make-up or the coordis would have to re-do the it with perfectly practiced snares on their faces.
“I try.” Chanyeol’s smile falters when he pushes two fingers down his throat, scratching his insides til they turn outsides. He almost chokes but he remembers what Kris taught him; Breathe through your nose, don’t hold back. It’ll feel better after. He breathes and props his arm on the toilet seat, Chanyeol heaves before he throws up his lunch from two days ago.
“You’re doing great.” Kris caresses Chanyeol’s back. Like a form of support for ruining your body. But Kris doesn’t think Chanyeol’s ruining his body, he thinks he’s making it better. He wants Chanyeol to look good. To fit better in clothes. To walk down the runway with a type of stoicness that can only be achieved if you’ve broken yourself down in to pretty little pieces that the designers and stylist and photographers call perfection. “Just a little more, Yeol. I heard they’re thinking of giving you the Armani fall collection. You have to impress.”
Chanyeol can hear how proud Kris is, the smile on Kris’ voice echoes in the marble bathroom walls of Milan. If Chanyeol wasn’t throwing up bile and acid and a little piece of his soul, he would’ve have smiled back and said it’s all thanks to you. He’d say how thankful he is, how Kris had helped him so much and that he can never equally repay Kris’ love and support.
But he can’t. Because he’s already three fingers deep in his throat, heaving before throwing up nothing and choking on the air that might save him from this life but doesn’t. So instead, he grips Kris’ thigh next to his kneeling form and circles his thumb slowly. I love you, he wants to say but Kris already knows.
“I love you, Yeol.” Kris traces hearts along Chanyeol’s ribs, counting the perfectly sculpted lines against harsh porcelain skin. When Chanyeol coughs hard and breathy, like he’s breathing in smoke instead of life, Kris helps him up, tissues waiting in hand. “Here, wipe your mouth. We have ten minutes before the show starts.”
Kris likes to watch Chanyeol wipe his mouth, pop a mint and light a stick. He thinks it’s between fascination and adoration, that he can never look away when Chanyeol licks his lips after tasting the mint and when Chanyeol hallows his cheeks to breathe in his smoke and huff out with eyes closed. He thinks Chanyeol’s beautiful but not nearly as perfect. So he helps Chanyeol. He pulls back his hair when he’s face to face with desperation, hands him tissues after throwing up his insecurities. He tells Chanyeol that this will make you perfect, that it’ll help the world see how beautiful you are in my eyes.
The sun sets and they walk side to side down the runway, wearing thick coats that almost make them look small. Kris strides down burning lights and flashing criticism like a god; taking in the scene with a flex of an eyebrow like the humidity in the whole building doesn’t bother him. Chanyeol strides like a tease, smiling down at the photographers and designers he can’t see because the lights are too blinding. Or maybe because he’s only looking at Kris. Who’s walking up towards him after a perfectly executed pose, eyes boring holes through the Chanyeol’s winter coat that actually makes him shiver. He doesn’t falter, he can’t, he reaches the end of the walk with a steady tight lipped smile and walks back to rush in and out of clothes and forgets for only a second where he is before the blinding lights remind him.
They always end up limbs tangled in Kris’ bed, or soft safe touches inside Kris’ car, or intertwined fingers on Kris’ flight off to somewhere Chanyeol doesn’t need to be in. Chanyeol follows Kris like a scared little puppy and Kris keeps him in a leash. Kris likes to think he’s helping Chanyeol rise to the top, not knowing that he’s slowly breaking him down. Chanyeol likes to think that Kris is more in love with him than he actually is with perfection.
They like to think that this is love.