worthless words you waste on me
worthless words you waste on me
kaisoo (jongin/kyungsoo).
pg.
au. romance. slight!fluff.
oneshot/~2500w.
In a world where words are counted and limited, Kyungsoo uses his on songs while Jongin keeps quiet in fear of wasting them.
•
the city is alive with sounds of business and everyday work. then again, to some, that's not really alive at all. it's like a looped soundtrack of honks, tire screeches, and engines, with a soft hum in the background that's unidentifiable but necessary to tie it all in together.
no words are exchanged as a man buys food from a stand. no words are exchanged at all, really. even in the offices, everything is typed out, and it gets to a point where the sound of fingers tapping keyboards becomes maddening.
the whole city is maddening.
-
there's a park in the middle of this city. it seems a bit misplaced - colorful beauty in the midst of gray order - or maybe it's perfectly placed. either way, it's there for people to enjoy.
not that people ever enjoy things these days. it's a pattern almost as haunting as the soundtrack loop. wake up, eat, work, eat, work, go home, eat, sleep. some only live for the 'eating' part, and others live because that's what they're expected to do.
people tend to pass by this park without much thought. it's a nice shortcut to work, or a place to jog when people have the time, which isn't very often. but this park, this park is special, because a man sings here.
every afternoon, in the middle of lunch hour, he walks to the middle of the park, puts down his radio, turns on the music, and sings.
his voice is smooth and sweet, but strange to those around him. it's a nice strange, but strange is strange nonetheless. their eyes scream questions. who is he? what is he doing? why he is he wasting words so carelessly. doesn't he have something better to use them on?
they never know, though, because he always runs out of words before the song can end. and everyday, he starts a new song with a new breath. eventually, the questions die down to simple pleasure, because lyrics are rare now and kyungsoo (that's his name, though they only know him as 'the boy who sings') is giving them a free show.
no thanks are ever spoken, but the scattered applause substitutes it. kyungsoo bows, because he may be 'careless' but he is not rude, and packs up to go back to work.
it would be exciting if he had a job as thrilling as his hobby, but in truth, kyungsoo is just like everyone else. he works in a box, drives in a box, lives in a box. he is a box - boring and replaceable. but his voice is his saving grace, like a mark on him that separates him from the rest.
-
the word limit was issued when kyungsoo was a teenager. he just signed up for vocal lessons when the news came. the government said it was to make "words more meaningful," but kyungsoo believes it only made them more worthless.
people stopped saying, "nice to meet you," in order to say other things like, "work. eight am. type." they use nods instead of "I love you," and shortened things to get jobs done faster with less work. but they also shortened the time spent having fun, loving others, and being human.
it's gotten to a point where some may believe they've all simply forgotten how to. on the other side of the city is a boy named jongin, but no one knows his name because he never opens his mouth to say it. he lives in fear of the word limit, afraid of what may happen if he uses the words up when he needs them. then the day ends and no words are spoken, chances lost again.
jongin is just a boy in a very large world with too many rules and consequences. he's scared and confused, so he says nothing and therefore means nothing in a world that moves too fast for him to handle.
but he still manages to put on a show despite it all. it's just as beautiful as kyungsoo's, but quieter and less noticeable. while everyone turns to find the source of a voice, no one notices the silent moves of a dancer, just as graceful but hidden among the other sights.
he doesn't dance to please, though; he dances to release. those words he wants so desperately to say, to scream, he holds back with a move instead, flowing limbs calming him down.
there is no audience for now.
-
kyungsoo and jongin meet in the middle on a clear winter day, and it's funny because those days really aren't supposed to exist at all. (kyungsoo laughs quietly at the irony, but jongin doesn't understand.)
jongin is running late to work after sleeping in, and he's running across the park when he hears words. maybe it's a desperate yearning that everyone now has to hear a voice that pulls jongin in, ignoring time and all else just to hear this boy sing.
and maybe it sort of scares jongin at first because this boy is doing what jongin dreams of doing but never can, and he does it in front of a crowd. or maybe jongin is actually fascinated, awe-struck, and a little bit in love with a voice that sings velvet.
he's disappointed when the words stop but the music continues. he's never realized how empty music is without lyrics. for the first time, part of him wants to speak, wants to finish the song, but he can't bring himself to find to words. so he stands there like the rest and claps.
but that's all he does: claps.
-
kyungsoo notices jongin because among the mass of people, all blurred faces with gray suits and stoic expressions, jongin is a splash of color. his skin is tanner, his eyes brighter, his lips pinker.
even the way he claps is different. others do it mechanically, but jongin puts his entire body into it, as if really trying to get the message across that he loves the performance. there's a smile lingering on his lips, and kyungsoo hopes he'll be back tomorrow.
he is.
he comes back everyday, still looking as enthralled as the first time. kyungsoo think it's cute, thinks it's different because everyone listens for pleasure, but jongin has a different glint in his eye. something more than pleasure, like maybe admiration. or something.
either way, kyungsoo likes it
-
jongin doesn't remember when it starts, but some time between the transition from death to new life, he finds himself mouthing the lyrics with kyungsoo's song as he nods his head to the song.
there's a new desire in his heart, but he can't put a finger on it quite yet.
-
they actually meet some time mid-spring when kyungsoo is wandering through a building after work, aimlessly and mindlessly as usual, and finds jongin dancing in the dark. the sun is still adjusting to the new season, but it stays awake longer now to stream soft punk sunlight into the room.
maybe it's the lighting or the setting, but the new atmosphere has kyungsoo seeing jongin in an entirely new light. not just as an intriguing onlooker, but as a performer himself, desperate to make a mark but unsure as to how to do so.
so kyungsoo gives him his first push: applause.
jongin spins around, startled, and kyungsoo can see the colors bouncing off of him, vivid and stunning. kyungsoo smiles a little and jongin relaxes unconsciously because suddenly the room is warmer.
kyungsoo motions to jongin, his eyes saying, 'you were good.' or maybe something better than good. jongin smiles despite himself, because it feels good to be complimented, and this is the boy from the park, and that means even more.
somewhere between overdone hand gestures and too-wide smiles, they agree to have dinner together. it's a bit late and neither are really hungry, but that's okay because that's not really the point anyway.
at the small restaurant crammed between an old bookstore and an ice cream shop, they order a small meal and milk tea. kyungsoo takes out his tablet and types things like, 'you dance really well,' followed by, 'you should dance in public.'
then jongin replies, with his own notepad and pencil, 'thank you,' and, 'I don't think I can ever do that.'
kyungsoo continues asking questions, though not all are about dancing. some ask about his job, because that's "proper conversation," and others ask about his personal life. they all touch the surface, not risking digging any deeper quite yet.
jongin replies honestly, but his life is much like kyungsoo's and the rest of the city's, aside from a few differences. kyungsoo expects this, though, so there is no disappointment when jongin says he works in a cubicle, typing all day, and that he grew up in seoul with a pet dog and his family and many other cliches.
underneath the written out words, however, is a fond curiosity towards each other. jongin is thrilled to meet the voice he admires so much, and kyungsoo hopes he has more chances to see the younger dance.
and maybe there's just a little bit more than that, but for now, it's unspoken like the rest of the city.
-
time passes quickly, the pictures melding together as if they were out of focus. everyday is so similar to the last that time seems to stop mattering, if only there were no more deadlines and plans.
but kyungsoo finds himself remembering the days with jongin because they're sharpened and vibrant in comparison. the dulling heart he's been trying to keep alive beats faster when the tan boy is around, and suddenly he even starts wishing he could save words to actually speak to him.
and jongin is less scared of the world, of himself. he wants to speak now, but doesn't know how to, doesn't know which words to say.
(so he starts practicing at night, whispering thoughtless words right before midnight with kyungsoo's smile in mind.)
-
kyungsoo thought love died with words when he was young, but jongin somehow manages to make him believe again through stifled laughs and hidden glances in the park.
jongin still watches kyungsoo sing, a smile playing his lips. kyungsoo loves the way he mouths the lyrics with him, the way their lips move in sychronization. he loves the way jongin's eyes hit the sunlight perfect, his hair shiny and messy. he loves a lot of things about jongin.
but he's not yet in love with him.
-
on a random day in the middle of autumn, for the first time, kyungsoo's voice cracks. it splits through the air and freezes time, it seems. kyungsoo stops then and there, the sound resonating off of nothing but he can hear it everywhere. eyes are on him, and he can feel them.
it's not like the other times, when they look at him for being 'insane' and 'careless.' no, now they look at him in embarrassment, and kyungsoo can't stand it. he stumbles away, barely grabbing the stereo as he makes his way out of the park.
ashamed, he doesn't once make eye contact with jongin.
he stops showing up after that. jongin waits everyday for him to return, waits to applaud him and tell him he's amazing.
he's been practicing his words lately, too, just for kyungsoo.
-
kyungsoo doesn't know why he's ignoring jongin or the park or singing, because he loves all three of them. but the sound of his voice cracking plays over and over in his head, and he can't get it out. he's stopped speaking as if it'll happen again.
he doesn't know which is more depressing: the fact that he's starting to become like everyone else, or that jongin still texts him 'good morning' and 'I love your voice' everyday, despite never receiving a reply.
-the park is an inevitable part of kyungsoo, and he knows he can't stay away for long. he plans to take a quick stroll during his lunch break, for no real reason except wanting to. he purposely avoids the center, though.
it's almost twelve, and kyungsoo has his hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffles through the crowd.
and then he hears it.
he doesn't realize he's practically running until he realizes he's out of breath and far from where he earlier was. he's back at the center of the park, and it's not because of a song, but because of a voice.
he's never heard this voice, but he knows it.
kyungsoo's heart skips a beat when he sees jongin standing there, eyes squeezed tight, his less-than-perfect voice trying its best to sing. he knows this song, too; it's the one he sang the first time jongin showed up.
-
jongin's fists are curled and he doesn't know what he's doing, but he knows kyungsoo has a fondness for tuesdays and this park, so he chooses this day to sing and hopes that he chose the right day to do this. with shaky hands, he presses the 'play' button on the stereo, and sings.
he knows his voice is like sandpaper compared to kyungsoo's velvet, but that's okay because this is for kyungsoo.
kyungsoo, who taught him to come out from the shadows. kyungsoo, who sang everyday and wasted words before rush hour. kyungsoo, who wants to live boldly but doesn't know how to.
kyungsoo, who has jongin wasting words and discarding his old ways just to be with him.
his eyes are shut tight because he's not yet ready to see others watching him. he knows the beat is off and his voice is wavering, and he's starting to lose confidence and words. he feels the limit approaching.
there's a rush of thrill that pulses through him as he finishes what he knows will be his last line before the bridge of that song that he can never get to. he's out of breath by the last word, and he opens his eyes finally to see -
- kyungsoo.
standing beside him, kyungsoo takes off where jongin left off without missing a beat. the entire time, his eyes are locked with jongin's now open ones. kyungsoo is smiling so widely that he messes up some of the words, but jongin still thinks it sounds beautiful.
kyungsoo hits the last note perfectly. the music fades out, and all that's left are two boys mouthing, 'I love you,' in between soft first kisses.
(and yes, he's in love with jongin now.)
-
kyungsoo once thought words were worthless, stripped of meaning when no one wants to speak anymore. but he realizes that if the words are used for someone else, someone worth it, they become precious. even simple words like 'hi' can mean so much if you're saying it to the person you love.
that's why he saves three words for the end of the day to whisper into jongin's ears before he falls asleep in the younger's arms.
jongin once thought words were scary, needed to be saved in case of emergencies, never to be uttered otherwise. but he learns thta maybe there are other uses for words, too, like telling kyungsoo's he's cute when he cooks and watching him become flustered afterwards.
that's why he makes sure to waste all of his words on kyungsoo: to let him know he's worth them.
•
a/n:
- this style is so fun to write.
- inspired by Jeffrey McDaniel's poem, "The Quiet World".
- much love to littleprincecap and Mariarty from AFF for reading this over for me and editing it. I love you guys~
- thank you for reading ^^ this is different from my usual fluff, but it's still rather... fluffy. kind of. aha, I hope you enjoyed.
- anonfeedme || I love constructive criticism ;A;
kaisoo (jongin/kyungsoo).
pg.
au. romance. slight!fluff.
oneshot/~2500w.
In a world where words are counted and limited, Kyungsoo uses his on songs while Jongin keeps quiet in fear of wasting them.
•
the city is alive with sounds of business and everyday work. then again, to some, that's not really alive at all. it's like a looped soundtrack of honks, tire screeches, and engines, with a soft hum in the background that's unidentifiable but necessary to tie it all in together.
no words are exchanged as a man buys food from a stand. no words are exchanged at all, really. even in the offices, everything is typed out, and it gets to a point where the sound of fingers tapping keyboards becomes maddening.
the whole city is maddening.
-
there's a park in the middle of this city. it seems a bit misplaced - colorful beauty in the midst of gray order - or maybe it's perfectly placed. either way, it's there for people to enjoy.
not that people ever enjoy things these days. it's a pattern almost as haunting as the soundtrack loop. wake up, eat, work, eat, work, go home, eat, sleep. some only live for the 'eating' part, and others live because that's what they're expected to do.
people tend to pass by this park without much thought. it's a nice shortcut to work, or a place to jog when people have the time, which isn't very often. but this park, this park is special, because a man sings here.
every afternoon, in the middle of lunch hour, he walks to the middle of the park, puts down his radio, turns on the music, and sings.
his voice is smooth and sweet, but strange to those around him. it's a nice strange, but strange is strange nonetheless. their eyes scream questions. who is he? what is he doing? why he is he wasting words so carelessly. doesn't he have something better to use them on?
they never know, though, because he always runs out of words before the song can end. and everyday, he starts a new song with a new breath. eventually, the questions die down to simple pleasure, because lyrics are rare now and kyungsoo (that's his name, though they only know him as 'the boy who sings') is giving them a free show.
no thanks are ever spoken, but the scattered applause substitutes it. kyungsoo bows, because he may be 'careless' but he is not rude, and packs up to go back to work.
it would be exciting if he had a job as thrilling as his hobby, but in truth, kyungsoo is just like everyone else. he works in a box, drives in a box, lives in a box. he is a box - boring and replaceable. but his voice is his saving grace, like a mark on him that separates him from the rest.
-
the word limit was issued when kyungsoo was a teenager. he just signed up for vocal lessons when the news came. the government said it was to make "words more meaningful," but kyungsoo believes it only made them more worthless.
people stopped saying, "nice to meet you," in order to say other things like, "work. eight am. type." they use nods instead of "I love you," and shortened things to get jobs done faster with less work. but they also shortened the time spent having fun, loving others, and being human.
it's gotten to a point where some may believe they've all simply forgotten how to. on the other side of the city is a boy named jongin, but no one knows his name because he never opens his mouth to say it. he lives in fear of the word limit, afraid of what may happen if he uses the words up when he needs them. then the day ends and no words are spoken, chances lost again.
jongin is just a boy in a very large world with too many rules and consequences. he's scared and confused, so he says nothing and therefore means nothing in a world that moves too fast for him to handle.
but he still manages to put on a show despite it all. it's just as beautiful as kyungsoo's, but quieter and less noticeable. while everyone turns to find the source of a voice, no one notices the silent moves of a dancer, just as graceful but hidden among the other sights.
he doesn't dance to please, though; he dances to release. those words he wants so desperately to say, to scream, he holds back with a move instead, flowing limbs calming him down.
there is no audience for now.
-
kyungsoo and jongin meet in the middle on a clear winter day, and it's funny because those days really aren't supposed to exist at all. (kyungsoo laughs quietly at the irony, but jongin doesn't understand.)
jongin is running late to work after sleeping in, and he's running across the park when he hears words. maybe it's a desperate yearning that everyone now has to hear a voice that pulls jongin in, ignoring time and all else just to hear this boy sing.
and maybe it sort of scares jongin at first because this boy is doing what jongin dreams of doing but never can, and he does it in front of a crowd. or maybe jongin is actually fascinated, awe-struck, and a little bit in love with a voice that sings velvet.
he's disappointed when the words stop but the music continues. he's never realized how empty music is without lyrics. for the first time, part of him wants to speak, wants to finish the song, but he can't bring himself to find to words. so he stands there like the rest and claps.
but that's all he does: claps.
-
kyungsoo notices jongin because among the mass of people, all blurred faces with gray suits and stoic expressions, jongin is a splash of color. his skin is tanner, his eyes brighter, his lips pinker.
even the way he claps is different. others do it mechanically, but jongin puts his entire body into it, as if really trying to get the message across that he loves the performance. there's a smile lingering on his lips, and kyungsoo hopes he'll be back tomorrow.
he is.
he comes back everyday, still looking as enthralled as the first time. kyungsoo think it's cute, thinks it's different because everyone listens for pleasure, but jongin has a different glint in his eye. something more than pleasure, like maybe admiration. or something.
either way, kyungsoo likes it
-
jongin doesn't remember when it starts, but some time between the transition from death to new life, he finds himself mouthing the lyrics with kyungsoo's song as he nods his head to the song.
there's a new desire in his heart, but he can't put a finger on it quite yet.
-
they actually meet some time mid-spring when kyungsoo is wandering through a building after work, aimlessly and mindlessly as usual, and finds jongin dancing in the dark. the sun is still adjusting to the new season, but it stays awake longer now to stream soft punk sunlight into the room.
maybe it's the lighting or the setting, but the new atmosphere has kyungsoo seeing jongin in an entirely new light. not just as an intriguing onlooker, but as a performer himself, desperate to make a mark but unsure as to how to do so.
so kyungsoo gives him his first push: applause.
jongin spins around, startled, and kyungsoo can see the colors bouncing off of him, vivid and stunning. kyungsoo smiles a little and jongin relaxes unconsciously because suddenly the room is warmer.
kyungsoo motions to jongin, his eyes saying, 'you were good.' or maybe something better than good. jongin smiles despite himself, because it feels good to be complimented, and this is the boy from the park, and that means even more.
somewhere between overdone hand gestures and too-wide smiles, they agree to have dinner together. it's a bit late and neither are really hungry, but that's okay because that's not really the point anyway.
at the small restaurant crammed between an old bookstore and an ice cream shop, they order a small meal and milk tea. kyungsoo takes out his tablet and types things like, 'you dance really well,' followed by, 'you should dance in public.'
then jongin replies, with his own notepad and pencil, 'thank you,' and, 'I don't think I can ever do that.'
kyungsoo continues asking questions, though not all are about dancing. some ask about his job, because that's "proper conversation," and others ask about his personal life. they all touch the surface, not risking digging any deeper quite yet.
jongin replies honestly, but his life is much like kyungsoo's and the rest of the city's, aside from a few differences. kyungsoo expects this, though, so there is no disappointment when jongin says he works in a cubicle, typing all day, and that he grew up in seoul with a pet dog and his family and many other cliches.
underneath the written out words, however, is a fond curiosity towards each other. jongin is thrilled to meet the voice he admires so much, and kyungsoo hopes he has more chances to see the younger dance.
and maybe there's just a little bit more than that, but for now, it's unspoken like the rest of the city.
-
time passes quickly, the pictures melding together as if they were out of focus. everyday is so similar to the last that time seems to stop mattering, if only there were no more deadlines and plans.
but kyungsoo finds himself remembering the days with jongin because they're sharpened and vibrant in comparison. the dulling heart he's been trying to keep alive beats faster when the tan boy is around, and suddenly he even starts wishing he could save words to actually speak to him.
and jongin is less scared of the world, of himself. he wants to speak now, but doesn't know how to, doesn't know which words to say.
(so he starts practicing at night, whispering thoughtless words right before midnight with kyungsoo's smile in mind.)
-
kyungsoo thought love died with words when he was young, but jongin somehow manages to make him believe again through stifled laughs and hidden glances in the park.
jongin still watches kyungsoo sing, a smile playing his lips. kyungsoo loves the way he mouths the lyrics with him, the way their lips move in sychronization. he loves the way jongin's eyes hit the sunlight perfect, his hair shiny and messy. he loves a lot of things about jongin.
but he's not yet in love with him.
-
on a random day in the middle of autumn, for the first time, kyungsoo's voice cracks. it splits through the air and freezes time, it seems. kyungsoo stops then and there, the sound resonating off of nothing but he can hear it everywhere. eyes are on him, and he can feel them.
it's not like the other times, when they look at him for being 'insane' and 'careless.' no, now they look at him in embarrassment, and kyungsoo can't stand it. he stumbles away, barely grabbing the stereo as he makes his way out of the park.
ashamed, he doesn't once make eye contact with jongin.
he stops showing up after that. jongin waits everyday for him to return, waits to applaud him and tell him he's amazing.
he's been practicing his words lately, too, just for kyungsoo.
-
kyungsoo doesn't know why he's ignoring jongin or the park or singing, because he loves all three of them. but the sound of his voice cracking plays over and over in his head, and he can't get it out. he's stopped speaking as if it'll happen again.
he doesn't know which is more depressing: the fact that he's starting to become like everyone else, or that jongin still texts him 'good morning' and 'I love your voice' everyday, despite never receiving a reply.
-the park is an inevitable part of kyungsoo, and he knows he can't stay away for long. he plans to take a quick stroll during his lunch break, for no real reason except wanting to. he purposely avoids the center, though.
it's almost twelve, and kyungsoo has his hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffles through the crowd.
and then he hears it.
he doesn't realize he's practically running until he realizes he's out of breath and far from where he earlier was. he's back at the center of the park, and it's not because of a song, but because of a voice.
he's never heard this voice, but he knows it.
kyungsoo's heart skips a beat when he sees jongin standing there, eyes squeezed tight, his less-than-perfect voice trying its best to sing. he knows this song, too; it's the one he sang the first time jongin showed up.
-
jongin's fists are curled and he doesn't know what he's doing, but he knows kyungsoo has a fondness for tuesdays and this park, so he chooses this day to sing and hopes that he chose the right day to do this. with shaky hands, he presses the 'play' button on the stereo, and sings.
he knows his voice is like sandpaper compared to kyungsoo's velvet, but that's okay because this is for kyungsoo.
kyungsoo, who taught him to come out from the shadows. kyungsoo, who sang everyday and wasted words before rush hour. kyungsoo, who wants to live boldly but doesn't know how to.
kyungsoo, who has jongin wasting words and discarding his old ways just to be with him.
his eyes are shut tight because he's not yet ready to see others watching him. he knows the beat is off and his voice is wavering, and he's starting to lose confidence and words. he feels the limit approaching.
there's a rush of thrill that pulses through him as he finishes what he knows will be his last line before the bridge of that song that he can never get to. he's out of breath by the last word, and he opens his eyes finally to see -
- kyungsoo.
standing beside him, kyungsoo takes off where jongin left off without missing a beat. the entire time, his eyes are locked with jongin's now open ones. kyungsoo is smiling so widely that he messes up some of the words, but jongin still thinks it sounds beautiful.
kyungsoo hits the last note perfectly. the music fades out, and all that's left are two boys mouthing, 'I love you,' in between soft first kisses.
(and yes, he's in love with jongin now.)
-
kyungsoo once thought words were worthless, stripped of meaning when no one wants to speak anymore. but he realizes that if the words are used for someone else, someone worth it, they become precious. even simple words like 'hi' can mean so much if you're saying it to the person you love.
that's why he saves three words for the end of the day to whisper into jongin's ears before he falls asleep in the younger's arms.
jongin once thought words were scary, needed to be saved in case of emergencies, never to be uttered otherwise. but he learns thta maybe there are other uses for words, too, like telling kyungsoo's he's cute when he cooks and watching him become flustered afterwards.
that's why he makes sure to waste all of his words on kyungsoo: to let him know he's worth them.
•
a/n:
- this style is so fun to write.
- inspired by Jeffrey McDaniel's poem, "The Quiet World".
- much love to littleprincecap and Mariarty from AFF for reading this over for me and editing it. I love you guys~
- thank you for reading ^^ this is different from my usual fluff, but it's still rather... fluffy. kind of. aha, I hope you enjoyed.
- anonfeedme || I love constructive criticism ;A;