miuyi
in
thekpop100
#020 - i still see the light
Title: i still see the light
Author: miuyi
Fandom/Characters/Pairing: exo; chen/baekhyun
Rating/Warnings: pg for swearing
Challenge # & Prompt: #020 - palette challenge: hell + roadtrip
Word Count: 713w
Title from 3 rounds and a sound by blind pilot (which is also the song baekhyun sings in the fic)
Baekhyun slumps asleep in the passenger seat ten minutes after they set off, seatbelt cutting across his neck. At noon he jerks awake, slamming his knee on the underside of the dashboard.
“Christ,” he groans, and Jongdae glances away from the road. Baekhyun’s doubled over, eyes pressed into his forearm. The glare from the midday sun spills orange down the back of his neck, peeling from sunburn. Jongdae feels for the sunglasses in the console between them and tosses them onto his lap. “Thanks,” Baekhyun grunts, slipping them over his face and blinking until his eyes adjust. “God, it’s hot.”
“Hot as hell,” Jongdae agrees. Baekhyun shoots him an amused look over the top of the glasses, like they haven't made that joke a thousand times already. The road flickers beneath them faster than Jongdae’s eyes can track.
Baekhyun wedges his head out the halfway open window and yells, “How much further?”
Jongdae glances up at the sun. It stares back from the top of the sky, ancient and exhausted. “Not far,” he replies. “We might even be there tomorrow.”
“An ice-cold beer,” Jongdae says, leaning back against the headboard and crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Oh jesus.” Baekhyun rests his face in his hands.
“Your turn.”
Baekhyun steeples his fingers and closes his eyes. “Frozen yoghurt.”
“Fuck,” Jongdae groans, and Baekhyun laughs as he stands and disappears into the bathroom. “Patbingsu.”
“Red-bean icecream.”
“Frozen peas.”
“What?” Baekhyun yells from the bathroom, over the sound of the running tap. “Frozen peas, seriously?”
“Yeah, straight out of the freezer.” Jongdae wriggles down on the bed until his head is on the pillow. “What, just me?”
Baekhyun walks back in. His hair is damp and dripping over the shoulders of his t-shirt. “Definitely. I only used them to ice bruises.”
Baekhyun's a little guy with a big mouth. He probably had a lot of bruises to ice. Jongdae picks at a loose thread on the pillow. “A McFlurry. Oreo flavour.”
“It was my turn.” Baekhyun strips off his t-shirt and hangs it on the back of the desk chair, then switches off the lights.
“Was it?” It's dark beyond the thick motel curtains, but the heat is still stifling. “Sorry.”
Baekhyun lies on his back in the other bed. “It's alright.” There's a faint light coming from somewhere. Beneath it Baekhyun looks the way Jongdae remembers the moon; luminous and unreachable. “I ran out of things to say anyway.”
A motel appears on the horizon, like it always does.
“Wanna stop?” Baekhyun’s driving, one hand curled around the steering wheel and the other thumb worried between his teeth. “It’ll be dark soon.”
The windows are all the way down and the wind coming through is hot, like sitting in front of an open oven. It sifts through Baekhyun’s hair, threaded gold beneath the setting sun.
“Yeah,” Jongdae says, voice all but lost in the wind, “let’s stop.”
The cold taps in the shower never work, and the water from the hot tap is always scalding.
“They’re playing our song.” Baekhyun’s voice when he sings is abrasive and inescapable, like the desert sand that Jongdae is always finding in his clothes no matter when he last changed them. The water echoes emptily as it hits the inside of the bucket. “Can you see the light? Can you hear the hum?”
Steam pours from the bathroom door. The curtains ripple. It's still light outside, and beyond the window the desert stretches out endlessly, a deep, dangerous red, like the heart of a fire. Jongdae is melting.
“Soil and six feet under.” The water cuts off. Baekhyun yelps like he's stuck his hand in the bucket too soon and burned himself.
Jongdae doesn't know what Baekhyun’s biggest fear is. Probably something to do with infinite motels and a car that never runs out of gas. With cities that don't exist on roads that never end.
“You want to know my greatest fear?” Jongdae murmurs, later that night. Baekhyun doesn't wake. There were only double beds in this motel, and he's so close that Jongdae can see the shadow of his eyelashes against his skin. Jongdae reaches out and his fingertips hover over the soft curve of Baekhyun’s cheek. “Loving someone who’ll never love me back.”
“Like whispering, you know me. You know me.”
“When’ll we get there?” Baekhyun asks, leaning up between the front seats. His breath tickles Jongdae’s neck. Ahead of them, the road stretches out into an eternity.
“Soon,” Jongdae promises. “Maybe even tomorrow.”
Author: miuyi
Fandom/Characters/Pairing: exo; chen/baekhyun
Rating/Warnings: pg for swearing
Challenge # & Prompt: #020 - palette challenge: hell + roadtrip
Word Count: 713w
Title from 3 rounds and a sound by blind pilot (which is also the song baekhyun sings in the fic)
Baekhyun slumps asleep in the passenger seat ten minutes after they set off, seatbelt cutting across his neck. At noon he jerks awake, slamming his knee on the underside of the dashboard.
“Christ,” he groans, and Jongdae glances away from the road. Baekhyun’s doubled over, eyes pressed into his forearm. The glare from the midday sun spills orange down the back of his neck, peeling from sunburn. Jongdae feels for the sunglasses in the console between them and tosses them onto his lap. “Thanks,” Baekhyun grunts, slipping them over his face and blinking until his eyes adjust. “God, it’s hot.”
“Hot as hell,” Jongdae agrees. Baekhyun shoots him an amused look over the top of the glasses, like they haven't made that joke a thousand times already. The road flickers beneath them faster than Jongdae’s eyes can track.
Baekhyun wedges his head out the halfway open window and yells, “How much further?”
Jongdae glances up at the sun. It stares back from the top of the sky, ancient and exhausted. “Not far,” he replies. “We might even be there tomorrow.”
“An ice-cold beer,” Jongdae says, leaning back against the headboard and crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Oh jesus.” Baekhyun rests his face in his hands.
“Your turn.”
Baekhyun steeples his fingers and closes his eyes. “Frozen yoghurt.”
“Fuck,” Jongdae groans, and Baekhyun laughs as he stands and disappears into the bathroom. “Patbingsu.”
“Red-bean icecream.”
“Frozen peas.”
“What?” Baekhyun yells from the bathroom, over the sound of the running tap. “Frozen peas, seriously?”
“Yeah, straight out of the freezer.” Jongdae wriggles down on the bed until his head is on the pillow. “What, just me?”
Baekhyun walks back in. His hair is damp and dripping over the shoulders of his t-shirt. “Definitely. I only used them to ice bruises.”
Baekhyun's a little guy with a big mouth. He probably had a lot of bruises to ice. Jongdae picks at a loose thread on the pillow. “A McFlurry. Oreo flavour.”
“It was my turn.” Baekhyun strips off his t-shirt and hangs it on the back of the desk chair, then switches off the lights.
“Was it?” It's dark beyond the thick motel curtains, but the heat is still stifling. “Sorry.”
Baekhyun lies on his back in the other bed. “It's alright.” There's a faint light coming from somewhere. Beneath it Baekhyun looks the way Jongdae remembers the moon; luminous and unreachable. “I ran out of things to say anyway.”
A motel appears on the horizon, like it always does.
“Wanna stop?” Baekhyun’s driving, one hand curled around the steering wheel and the other thumb worried between his teeth. “It’ll be dark soon.”
The windows are all the way down and the wind coming through is hot, like sitting in front of an open oven. It sifts through Baekhyun’s hair, threaded gold beneath the setting sun.
“Yeah,” Jongdae says, voice all but lost in the wind, “let’s stop.”
The cold taps in the shower never work, and the water from the hot tap is always scalding.
“They’re playing our song.” Baekhyun’s voice when he sings is abrasive and inescapable, like the desert sand that Jongdae is always finding in his clothes no matter when he last changed them. The water echoes emptily as it hits the inside of the bucket. “Can you see the light? Can you hear the hum?”
Steam pours from the bathroom door. The curtains ripple. It's still light outside, and beyond the window the desert stretches out endlessly, a deep, dangerous red, like the heart of a fire. Jongdae is melting.
“Soil and six feet under.” The water cuts off. Baekhyun yelps like he's stuck his hand in the bucket too soon and burned himself.
Jongdae doesn't know what Baekhyun’s biggest fear is. Probably something to do with infinite motels and a car that never runs out of gas. With cities that don't exist on roads that never end.
“You want to know my greatest fear?” Jongdae murmurs, later that night. Baekhyun doesn't wake. There were only double beds in this motel, and he's so close that Jongdae can see the shadow of his eyelashes against his skin. Jongdae reaches out and his fingertips hover over the soft curve of Baekhyun’s cheek. “Loving someone who’ll never love me back.”
“Like whispering, you know me. You know me.”
“When’ll we get there?” Baekhyun asks, leaning up between the front seats. His breath tickles Jongdae’s neck. Ahead of them, the road stretches out into an eternity.
“Soon,” Jongdae promises. “Maybe even tomorrow.”