drabbles; set two
i. drunk
chankaisoo | angst, romance | 1, 339 words
-
hearts don’t break.
they beat out of rhythm, causing you to feel like nothing will ever go right again. kyungsoo’s heart is brimming with powerful emotions after another. he recognizes pain, agony, love and betrayal. he just never knew it would hit him this hard.
the image of jongin kissing taemin is seared into the folds of kyungsoo’s mind. everything had been vivid then: the brightness of taemin’s shirt, the reds of jongin’s face as he leaned down to plant a hungry kiss on taemin’s face, the darkness of jongin’s hair when the slender fingers of taemin’s hand knots itself into the black strands. but now, every little thing passes by kyungsoo in blurs and whispers.
“the night is beautiful.” chanyeol exclaims, trying to veer kyungsoo’s train of thought away from the tragedy they witnessed earlier. chanyeol’s voice is deep, husky with all the feelings he keeps gulping down in kyungsoo’s presence. it’s always been like this. they’ve always been like this.
“i don’t know. or care. i feel so cold.”
helping kyungsoo is one of chanyeol’s favorite habit. shrugging off his jacket, he drapes it over kyungsoo’s shoulder. it burns on places were chanyeol’s skin grazes over kyungsoo’s. chanyeol scolds himself for his unholy thoughts. Kyungsoo is obviously hurting. now’s not the perfect time to let his fantasies about kissing kyungsoo senseless overtake him.
on the rooftop of this building where chanyeol lives, the city seems alive. it pulses with flickering lights and pedestrians heading somewhere and nowhere at the same time. looking down from this height, kyungsoo can fool himself into believing in fairy tales again.
but then he remembers the smile on taemin’s face and kyungsoo thinks that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t the main character of this story.
a breeze sways strands of chanyeol’s caramel hair to the side. kyungsoo stares at chanyeol.
drunk on lights and agony, kyungsoo’s knees quiver with The weight of burdens he can no longer carry. beside him, chanyeol is observing him intently, vacuuming kyungsoo in a vortex of memories about jongin being too late or too tired or too sad for kyungsoo so he had to run into chanyeol’s open arms. kyungsoo lets out a whisper. “i wish i loved you instead.”
it felt like eternity trapped in a nanosecond. chanyeol coughs, peers at kyungsoo through thick lashes. there’s something warm about chanyeol; a distinctive quality causing laughter and smiles to follow his trail. “yeah. i’d be lying if i say i don’t think of that. but you’re with jongin for a reason and you two have always figured it out in the end and there’s love in your eyes when you look at him and i can’t compare to that because-”
“tonight, it’s you that i love.” chanyeol is silenced by the softness of kyungsoo’s lips against his.
“kyungsoo, no. you’re just hurt and you’re not thinking straight and i’m-”
“shut up and love me too.” tears taint kyungsoo’s eyes. they fall down to his cheeks like shooting stars hiding wishes that’ll never come true. rushing feelings pushed chanyeol into using his lips to wipe kyungsoo’s tears away.
chanyeol knows he shouldn’t have been so happy, shouldn’t have been so surprised to be touching kyungsoo like this after years of simply holding his hand. but he blames the way the moonlight lands on kyungsoo’s face for everything he does tonight.
“i already love you.”
/--/
tonight, kyungsoo is aggressive.
he kisses chanyeol harshly while chanyeol tries to pretend that kyungsoo isn’t crying. it’s wet and awkward and hot, but this is the only thing he can give kyungsoo.
kyungsoo tastes like spearmint and soju. sobs vacate the spaces groans failed to fill. under the starless expanse of indigoes and twinkling lights, kyungsoo and chanyeol are all traveling tongues and prodding fingertips. they’re matters that shouldn’t have existed, lips that shouldn’t have touched.
instead of thinking about kyungsoo’s pain, chanyeol focuses on licking the mole behind kyungsoo’s ears, on scattering lovebites over kyungsoo’s skin like dandelion seeds over a fertile field. fabrics are discarded, and mouths find their way back to each other again. there’s only so much chanyeol can do to ease the pain.
he knows kyungsoo still orbits around jongin, even when he’s in chanyeol’s atmosphere. when they kiss, chanyeol tastes jongin lingering on kyungsoo’s tongue.
“make me forget.” kyungsoo pleads, large eyes digging holes into him.
and chanyeol does.
he sucks and bites and kisses and groans when he should. fingernails carve half-crescents into chanyeol’s arms and he holds kyungsoo in a way that jongin never held him before; reverently, adoringly, as if kyungsoo is made out of expensive porcelain.
And just like that, they descend into the night.
/--/
“what kind of surprise is this, chanyeol?” kyungsoo walks forward with chanyeol’s hands blocking his line of sight. “can i look now?”
“wait, just a few more steps to go.” chanyeol huffs.
it’s the morning after the steamy encounter. the horizon had been ribboned red and orange with sunlight when chanyeol lead kyungsoo blind.
“it’s a surprise.” chanyeol said.
“can i open my eyes now?”
chanyeol drops his hands, allowing kyungsoo to soak in the familiar surroundings. the expression on kyungsoo’s face is one of disgust.
“why are we here?! this is jongin’s place. i thought you’d surprise me! surprises are supposed to be make me happy, you know.”
chanyeol rests both hands on kyungsoo’s shoulder, leaning down until they’re eye-to-eye. kyungsoo sees a battle raging in chanyeol’s eyes. “this is your surprise. this will make you happy. it’s jongin, remember? he makes you happy.”
“but you do, too.”
it takes all of chanyeol’s might to not fall to his knees and then runaway with kyungsoo. god knows he wanted kyungsoo so badly. “i know, but not as much as jongin does. look, you’ll get through this. jongin loves you too much for that. i do, too. but i’m just….. not.. the one for you.”
chanyeol stares at kyungsoo. he inhales and gulps down love.”i wanted to be. goddamnit. i could have treated you better, loved you with all i can but shit kyungsoo. it’s insignificant if i place it beside what you feel for jongin. i can’t compare, you see. and i’ve been trying for three years but this is all i can do. i’ll never be more than a shoulder to cry on at three a.m. i’m just your best friend and i’m sorry for hurting you because i tried to be more than that.”
/--/
the sound of the door creaking open is heaven to jongin’s ears.
after realizing what he did last night under the clutches of a few bottles of liquor, jongin immediately said sorry to taemin and rushed home. only to find it empty.
dark rings bore witness to every hour jongin spent awake, searching for kyungsoo in places he could have disappeared to. jongin stops pacing when kyungsoo comes inside, along with his best friend, park chanyeol. jongin runs and engulfs kyungsoo in a tight hug.
“are you okay? you’re not hurt aren’t you? why do you look so-” the words on his lips run dry upon seeing the reddish violet marks on kyungsoo’s neck. kyungsoo’s lips are pink and swollen, his eyes refusing to look at jongin. he gets the gist of it.
“you bastard!” jongin yells, shoving chanyeol against the wall. he prepares his arm and swings it forward, but it wasn’t chanyeol’s cheek his knuckles connected with. it’s kyungsoo’s. bones collide with soft flesh, kyungsoo sputters out crimson liquid at the edges of his mouth.
“jongin. stop. leave.” kyungsoo orders.
“but this bastard just-why did you get in the way? let me at him-“
“I SAID LEAVE, DIDN’T I? GO, jongin leave me alone.” jongin flinches back when kyungsoo yelled. kyungsoo never raised his voice like this before.
silence falls in love with jongin’s lips as he glanced at kyungsoo and chanyeol. without saying another word, jongin pulls kyungsoo close and hugs him again. “i’m so sorry. i can’t leave you.”
ii. mason jars
chansoo | romance | 0347 words
-
kyungsoo is very much like a butterfly.
when chanyeol thinks about kyungsoo, he envisions butterflies: vivid and fragile, splashes of colorful wings fluttering out of his reach. as a child, he’s always been fascinated by them. scraped knees and bruised palms are a few of the consequences he got from being too close, too reckless to think he can keep them all in clear mason jars.
sometimes, luck flies his way and his mason jars are occupied by bright tenants with wings as delicate as a whisper.
kyungsoo is smiling in front of him. he’s all pink lips and white teeth and the prettiest color of rainbows. he’s talking about his latest project; some rich dude commissioned him and kyungsoo is over the moon about it. chanyeol listens to every word, the stresses of kyungsoo’s voice and the widening of his eyes. this is kyungsoo when he’s excited. chanyeol knows this. just like he knows kyungsoo’s favorite record and that he likes the word and because it sounds promising. chanyeol smiles and replies at the right time, fascinated by the way kyungsoo’s hand paints pictures in the air.
butterflies don’t do much in mason jars. there isn’t enough room for them to show off their beauty, but chanyeol keeps them sealed anyway. pretty things are amazing. and they’re his now.
in the middle of their conversation, wind chimes create delightful sounds and kyungsoo stops talking. chanyeol sees light in kyungsoo’s eyes and he doesn’t have to turn to know that kim jongin is here. it’s as if something has been switched on inside kyungsoo when jongin is within touching distance. all of a sudden, his smile spreads wider, reds dot his cheeks and he feels like a different kyungsoo. jongin walks to their table and plants a kiss on kyungsoo’s lips. kyungsoo looks down, fighting off a harsh blush.
chanyeol remembers an afternoon where he tripped and the jar broke; scattered shards and lid on the ground. his butterflies flutter away, leaving bleeding colors for him to stare at.
yes, kyungsoo is very much like a butterfly.
iii. dancing clouds
baekyeol | 529 words
A glowing end of a cigarette stick captivates Park Chanyeol.
Staggering in his balcony, Chanyeol approaches Baekhyun. He stands beside the shorter guy, elbows planted on the cold, metal railing. They remain like that for a while: Baekhyun precariously balancing the cancer stick between rough fingers, gazing at the skyline and Chanyeol using his eyes to roam around the intersections of Baekhyun's face, the u-turns and stoplights, the hazards and the infinite signs carved into Baekhyun's jawline. Baekhyun exhales, dancing clouds escape.
It's Chanyeol who speaks first, and Chanyeol who will one day, speak last. "I could never have taken you as the smoking type."
"Does that bother you?" Baekhyun asks in a tone implying he doesn't really care.
"No, it's okay. I just thought you didn't look like someone who smokes." The tobacco's stench bothers him, but Baekhyun's shoulders isn't tensed anymore, so Chanyeol keeps his mouth shut.
"Enlighten me, then. What kind of look should I have to be qualified as a smoker?"
"I don't know, Mr. Byun." Chanyeol says; his line of vision trailing faraway. In the distance, orange lights flicker off, cars veer home, the noise lessens. In the distance, the whole world is preparing to go to sleep. "Sad, maybe. You don't look sad to me."
Baekhyun inhales. Baekhyun exhales carbon dioxide interlaced with smoke and puffs of dilemma. "But I am sad, though."
Like the moon pulling tides, Baekhyun's confession tugs Chanyeol's lips up to a smile. "Aren't we all? We're all bleeding, damaged. Some are proudly showing off bruises, others have theirs buried layers and layers underneath."
Baekhyun takes another long drag.
11:16 P.M.
"Mr. Byun, don't you think you should try to stop smoking for now? At least for three days? That might be the cause of your potential death." Eighteen floors beneath them, little shops are closing. Calling it a night.
Baekhyun looks over the railing, holds his breath and drops the cigarette: thin, pale stick ablaze in the air, leaving ashes in its wake. Tonight, it seemed like eternity is marked by embers. The pulsing glow inside his glass house; his cigarette's end. They can burn, melt and shape abstract nightmares into something Baekhyun can touch, wreck into oblivion. He runs a hand through his hair. "I can also jump from here and bam! Hello death, nice to meet you. The fall might extend to three pages long. I can also die in a fire inside my glass house when I work. A thief can break into my house and strangle me if I catch them. Someone from the past might harbor a vendetta and decide to have me killed and--"
"And you're being paranoid, Mr. Byun." Chanyeol doesn't know how he does it, just that Baekhyun is trembling and they're both aware it isn't from the cold breeze, but he's already behind Baekhyun, patting the shorter guy's hair. Chanyeol leans down, fitting his head into the knob of Baekhyun's spine. "Don't think too much into it."
Baekhyun hears, but doesn't listen. Speaks, but doesn't mean a single letter of what he says. "Okay. Okay. I'll be okay, right?"
When Chanyeol breathes into Baekhyun's neck, Baekhyun felt immortal.
iv. ft. princess sehun
sesoo | 575 words
"i refuse to believe this." sehun shakes his head, colorful chalk powders cascading down to his shoulders. it's called chalk dyes, sehun informed kyungsoo earlier when he barged inside kyungsoo's place. barged because he'll never be welcomed here. "you simply wiggled your bon bons and snagged kai! i always knew you were a little whore."
the affectionate tone interlaced in sehun's voice diminishes the insult into dust. kyungsoo sheepishly grins at sehun, pretty pinks scattered all over his cheeks and painting his lips. sehun looks at the wide eyes and finds a place someone like kai can get lost in.
"i didn't really shake my bon bons, sehun. what are bon bons anyway? do you eat--?"
"balls, kyungsoo." sehun rolls his eyes. "balls."
"he did not even see my balls yet!"
"yet? you mother father, you're totally planning on it!" sehun accuses in a voice which makes kyungsoo think that sehun can actually be a fourteen-year old girl trapped inside the nearly emaciated body of a grown man.
kyungsoo sighs, slumping down his bed with a groan. it's as if his spine has been anchored down by the weight of his problems, questions he can't always provide an answer to and gravity, of course gravity.
dust motes dance under the sunlight streaming through his windows. kyungsoo's room is bathed in golds and yellows, but what he's currently feeling is warmer than all the sun's shades combined. and yes, this has everything to do with the boy with coffee skin and pretty hands and a childish smile that can make kyungsoo forget which planet he's in.
"i really like him." kyungsoo admits, draping his forearm over both eyes. "i mean, he's really cute, yeah. but like, it's something more than that. jongin is really sweet and funny and warm like you know how when you wake up and remember it's saturday so you can go back to sleep again and snuggle deep into your blankets? jongin gives me those feels. all tingly tingly and fuzzy and--"
"i am one cheesy adjective away from puking on you."
"don't be such a drama queen. let me have my moment. this fanfic is kaisoo, not kaisoo ft. princess sehun."
"but i thought i was a queen. you said i was a queen first."
kyungsoo sits back up, leaning against the wall. "that's not the point. the point is that i like jongin and i don't know what to do after that."
deep dents form between sehun's raised eyebrows. he stares at kyungsoo and wonders how it is scientifically possible for one person to be this naive. "isn't it obvious? you ask him to hang out and you guys date. see how it goes and if you're still interested, you bang bang that ass and voila! as much as i hate you going out with hottie patootie kai, i just want to see you happy. ooops--no don't hug me."
"but how?!" fingernails fall victim to kyungsoo's teeth. nibbling on his nails is his tell tale sign of nervousness. "is there a wiki guide for that? how can he be my boyfriend? do i have to pet him? how many times a day will i have to feed him?"
sehun grips kyungsoo by his shoulders and murmurs. "it'll be okay. just relax. don't think too much, you'll get wrinkles. just think of it as applied.... well, whatever shit you're writing on the internet. real life isn't any different."
[note:- this is my version of burying things i can't stand seeing anymore. r.i.p.
-and the final one is supposed to be in kouhai noticed me which isn't very original for a sequel. but i give up so yeah. i salvaged that one ;;
-here's to hoping my next update will be decent :)]
chankaisoo | angst, romance | 1, 339 words
-
hearts don’t break.
they beat out of rhythm, causing you to feel like nothing will ever go right again. kyungsoo’s heart is brimming with powerful emotions after another. he recognizes pain, agony, love and betrayal. he just never knew it would hit him this hard.
the image of jongin kissing taemin is seared into the folds of kyungsoo’s mind. everything had been vivid then: the brightness of taemin’s shirt, the reds of jongin’s face as he leaned down to plant a hungry kiss on taemin’s face, the darkness of jongin’s hair when the slender fingers of taemin’s hand knots itself into the black strands. but now, every little thing passes by kyungsoo in blurs and whispers.
“the night is beautiful.” chanyeol exclaims, trying to veer kyungsoo’s train of thought away from the tragedy they witnessed earlier. chanyeol’s voice is deep, husky with all the feelings he keeps gulping down in kyungsoo’s presence. it’s always been like this. they’ve always been like this.
“i don’t know. or care. i feel so cold.”
helping kyungsoo is one of chanyeol’s favorite habit. shrugging off his jacket, he drapes it over kyungsoo’s shoulder. it burns on places were chanyeol’s skin grazes over kyungsoo’s. chanyeol scolds himself for his unholy thoughts. Kyungsoo is obviously hurting. now’s not the perfect time to let his fantasies about kissing kyungsoo senseless overtake him.
on the rooftop of this building where chanyeol lives, the city seems alive. it pulses with flickering lights and pedestrians heading somewhere and nowhere at the same time. looking down from this height, kyungsoo can fool himself into believing in fairy tales again.
but then he remembers the smile on taemin’s face and kyungsoo thinks that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t the main character of this story.
a breeze sways strands of chanyeol’s caramel hair to the side. kyungsoo stares at chanyeol.
drunk on lights and agony, kyungsoo’s knees quiver with The weight of burdens he can no longer carry. beside him, chanyeol is observing him intently, vacuuming kyungsoo in a vortex of memories about jongin being too late or too tired or too sad for kyungsoo so he had to run into chanyeol’s open arms. kyungsoo lets out a whisper. “i wish i loved you instead.”
it felt like eternity trapped in a nanosecond. chanyeol coughs, peers at kyungsoo through thick lashes. there’s something warm about chanyeol; a distinctive quality causing laughter and smiles to follow his trail. “yeah. i’d be lying if i say i don’t think of that. but you’re with jongin for a reason and you two have always figured it out in the end and there’s love in your eyes when you look at him and i can’t compare to that because-”
“tonight, it’s you that i love.” chanyeol is silenced by the softness of kyungsoo’s lips against his.
“kyungsoo, no. you’re just hurt and you’re not thinking straight and i’m-”
“shut up and love me too.” tears taint kyungsoo’s eyes. they fall down to his cheeks like shooting stars hiding wishes that’ll never come true. rushing feelings pushed chanyeol into using his lips to wipe kyungsoo’s tears away.
chanyeol knows he shouldn’t have been so happy, shouldn’t have been so surprised to be touching kyungsoo like this after years of simply holding his hand. but he blames the way the moonlight lands on kyungsoo’s face for everything he does tonight.
“i already love you.”
/--/
tonight, kyungsoo is aggressive.
he kisses chanyeol harshly while chanyeol tries to pretend that kyungsoo isn’t crying. it’s wet and awkward and hot, but this is the only thing he can give kyungsoo.
kyungsoo tastes like spearmint and soju. sobs vacate the spaces groans failed to fill. under the starless expanse of indigoes and twinkling lights, kyungsoo and chanyeol are all traveling tongues and prodding fingertips. they’re matters that shouldn’t have existed, lips that shouldn’t have touched.
instead of thinking about kyungsoo’s pain, chanyeol focuses on licking the mole behind kyungsoo’s ears, on scattering lovebites over kyungsoo’s skin like dandelion seeds over a fertile field. fabrics are discarded, and mouths find their way back to each other again. there’s only so much chanyeol can do to ease the pain.
he knows kyungsoo still orbits around jongin, even when he’s in chanyeol’s atmosphere. when they kiss, chanyeol tastes jongin lingering on kyungsoo’s tongue.
“make me forget.” kyungsoo pleads, large eyes digging holes into him.
and chanyeol does.
he sucks and bites and kisses and groans when he should. fingernails carve half-crescents into chanyeol’s arms and he holds kyungsoo in a way that jongin never held him before; reverently, adoringly, as if kyungsoo is made out of expensive porcelain.
And just like that, they descend into the night.
/--/
“what kind of surprise is this, chanyeol?” kyungsoo walks forward with chanyeol’s hands blocking his line of sight. “can i look now?”
“wait, just a few more steps to go.” chanyeol huffs.
it’s the morning after the steamy encounter. the horizon had been ribboned red and orange with sunlight when chanyeol lead kyungsoo blind.
“it’s a surprise.” chanyeol said.
“can i open my eyes now?”
chanyeol drops his hands, allowing kyungsoo to soak in the familiar surroundings. the expression on kyungsoo’s face is one of disgust.
“why are we here?! this is jongin’s place. i thought you’d surprise me! surprises are supposed to be make me happy, you know.”
chanyeol rests both hands on kyungsoo’s shoulder, leaning down until they’re eye-to-eye. kyungsoo sees a battle raging in chanyeol’s eyes. “this is your surprise. this will make you happy. it’s jongin, remember? he makes you happy.”
“but you do, too.”
it takes all of chanyeol’s might to not fall to his knees and then runaway with kyungsoo. god knows he wanted kyungsoo so badly. “i know, but not as much as jongin does. look, you’ll get through this. jongin loves you too much for that. i do, too. but i’m just….. not.. the one for you.”
chanyeol stares at kyungsoo. he inhales and gulps down love.”i wanted to be. goddamnit. i could have treated you better, loved you with all i can but shit kyungsoo. it’s insignificant if i place it beside what you feel for jongin. i can’t compare, you see. and i’ve been trying for three years but this is all i can do. i’ll never be more than a shoulder to cry on at three a.m. i’m just your best friend and i’m sorry for hurting you because i tried to be more than that.”
/--/
the sound of the door creaking open is heaven to jongin’s ears.
after realizing what he did last night under the clutches of a few bottles of liquor, jongin immediately said sorry to taemin and rushed home. only to find it empty.
dark rings bore witness to every hour jongin spent awake, searching for kyungsoo in places he could have disappeared to. jongin stops pacing when kyungsoo comes inside, along with his best friend, park chanyeol. jongin runs and engulfs kyungsoo in a tight hug.
“are you okay? you’re not hurt aren’t you? why do you look so-” the words on his lips run dry upon seeing the reddish violet marks on kyungsoo’s neck. kyungsoo’s lips are pink and swollen, his eyes refusing to look at jongin. he gets the gist of it.
“you bastard!” jongin yells, shoving chanyeol against the wall. he prepares his arm and swings it forward, but it wasn’t chanyeol’s cheek his knuckles connected with. it’s kyungsoo’s. bones collide with soft flesh, kyungsoo sputters out crimson liquid at the edges of his mouth.
“jongin. stop. leave.” kyungsoo orders.
“but this bastard just-why did you get in the way? let me at him-“
“I SAID LEAVE, DIDN’T I? GO, jongin leave me alone.” jongin flinches back when kyungsoo yelled. kyungsoo never raised his voice like this before.
silence falls in love with jongin’s lips as he glanced at kyungsoo and chanyeol. without saying another word, jongin pulls kyungsoo close and hugs him again. “i’m so sorry. i can’t leave you.”
ii. mason jars
chansoo | romance | 0347 words
-
kyungsoo is very much like a butterfly.
when chanyeol thinks about kyungsoo, he envisions butterflies: vivid and fragile, splashes of colorful wings fluttering out of his reach. as a child, he’s always been fascinated by them. scraped knees and bruised palms are a few of the consequences he got from being too close, too reckless to think he can keep them all in clear mason jars.
sometimes, luck flies his way and his mason jars are occupied by bright tenants with wings as delicate as a whisper.
kyungsoo is smiling in front of him. he’s all pink lips and white teeth and the prettiest color of rainbows. he’s talking about his latest project; some rich dude commissioned him and kyungsoo is over the moon about it. chanyeol listens to every word, the stresses of kyungsoo’s voice and the widening of his eyes. this is kyungsoo when he’s excited. chanyeol knows this. just like he knows kyungsoo’s favorite record and that he likes the word and because it sounds promising. chanyeol smiles and replies at the right time, fascinated by the way kyungsoo’s hand paints pictures in the air.
butterflies don’t do much in mason jars. there isn’t enough room for them to show off their beauty, but chanyeol keeps them sealed anyway. pretty things are amazing. and they’re his now.
in the middle of their conversation, wind chimes create delightful sounds and kyungsoo stops talking. chanyeol sees light in kyungsoo’s eyes and he doesn’t have to turn to know that kim jongin is here. it’s as if something has been switched on inside kyungsoo when jongin is within touching distance. all of a sudden, his smile spreads wider, reds dot his cheeks and he feels like a different kyungsoo. jongin walks to their table and plants a kiss on kyungsoo’s lips. kyungsoo looks down, fighting off a harsh blush.
chanyeol remembers an afternoon where he tripped and the jar broke; scattered shards and lid on the ground. his butterflies flutter away, leaving bleeding colors for him to stare at.
yes, kyungsoo is very much like a butterfly.
iii. dancing clouds
baekyeol | 529 words
A glowing end of a cigarette stick captivates Park Chanyeol.
Staggering in his balcony, Chanyeol approaches Baekhyun. He stands beside the shorter guy, elbows planted on the cold, metal railing. They remain like that for a while: Baekhyun precariously balancing the cancer stick between rough fingers, gazing at the skyline and Chanyeol using his eyes to roam around the intersections of Baekhyun's face, the u-turns and stoplights, the hazards and the infinite signs carved into Baekhyun's jawline. Baekhyun exhales, dancing clouds escape.
It's Chanyeol who speaks first, and Chanyeol who will one day, speak last. "I could never have taken you as the smoking type."
"Does that bother you?" Baekhyun asks in a tone implying he doesn't really care.
"No, it's okay. I just thought you didn't look like someone who smokes." The tobacco's stench bothers him, but Baekhyun's shoulders isn't tensed anymore, so Chanyeol keeps his mouth shut.
"Enlighten me, then. What kind of look should I have to be qualified as a smoker?"
"I don't know, Mr. Byun." Chanyeol says; his line of vision trailing faraway. In the distance, orange lights flicker off, cars veer home, the noise lessens. In the distance, the whole world is preparing to go to sleep. "Sad, maybe. You don't look sad to me."
Baekhyun inhales. Baekhyun exhales carbon dioxide interlaced with smoke and puffs of dilemma. "But I am sad, though."
Like the moon pulling tides, Baekhyun's confession tugs Chanyeol's lips up to a smile. "Aren't we all? We're all bleeding, damaged. Some are proudly showing off bruises, others have theirs buried layers and layers underneath."
Baekhyun takes another long drag.
11:16 P.M.
"Mr. Byun, don't you think you should try to stop smoking for now? At least for three days? That might be the cause of your potential death." Eighteen floors beneath them, little shops are closing. Calling it a night.
Baekhyun looks over the railing, holds his breath and drops the cigarette: thin, pale stick ablaze in the air, leaving ashes in its wake. Tonight, it seemed like eternity is marked by embers. The pulsing glow inside his glass house; his cigarette's end. They can burn, melt and shape abstract nightmares into something Baekhyun can touch, wreck into oblivion. He runs a hand through his hair. "I can also jump from here and bam! Hello death, nice to meet you. The fall might extend to three pages long. I can also die in a fire inside my glass house when I work. A thief can break into my house and strangle me if I catch them. Someone from the past might harbor a vendetta and decide to have me killed and--"
"And you're being paranoid, Mr. Byun." Chanyeol doesn't know how he does it, just that Baekhyun is trembling and they're both aware it isn't from the cold breeze, but he's already behind Baekhyun, patting the shorter guy's hair. Chanyeol leans down, fitting his head into the knob of Baekhyun's spine. "Don't think too much into it."
Baekhyun hears, but doesn't listen. Speaks, but doesn't mean a single letter of what he says. "Okay. Okay. I'll be okay, right?"
When Chanyeol breathes into Baekhyun's neck, Baekhyun felt immortal.
iv. ft. princess sehun
sesoo | 575 words
"i refuse to believe this." sehun shakes his head, colorful chalk powders cascading down to his shoulders. it's called chalk dyes, sehun informed kyungsoo earlier when he barged inside kyungsoo's place. barged because he'll never be welcomed here. "you simply wiggled your bon bons and snagged kai! i always knew you were a little whore."
the affectionate tone interlaced in sehun's voice diminishes the insult into dust. kyungsoo sheepishly grins at sehun, pretty pinks scattered all over his cheeks and painting his lips. sehun looks at the wide eyes and finds a place someone like kai can get lost in.
"i didn't really shake my bon bons, sehun. what are bon bons anyway? do you eat--?"
"balls, kyungsoo." sehun rolls his eyes. "balls."
"he did not even see my balls yet!"
"yet? you mother father, you're totally planning on it!" sehun accuses in a voice which makes kyungsoo think that sehun can actually be a fourteen-year old girl trapped inside the nearly emaciated body of a grown man.
kyungsoo sighs, slumping down his bed with a groan. it's as if his spine has been anchored down by the weight of his problems, questions he can't always provide an answer to and gravity, of course gravity.
dust motes dance under the sunlight streaming through his windows. kyungsoo's room is bathed in golds and yellows, but what he's currently feeling is warmer than all the sun's shades combined. and yes, this has everything to do with the boy with coffee skin and pretty hands and a childish smile that can make kyungsoo forget which planet he's in.
"i really like him." kyungsoo admits, draping his forearm over both eyes. "i mean, he's really cute, yeah. but like, it's something more than that. jongin is really sweet and funny and warm like you know how when you wake up and remember it's saturday so you can go back to sleep again and snuggle deep into your blankets? jongin gives me those feels. all tingly tingly and fuzzy and--"
"i am one cheesy adjective away from puking on you."
"don't be such a drama queen. let me have my moment. this fanfic is kaisoo, not kaisoo ft. princess sehun."
"but i thought i was a queen. you said i was a queen first."
kyungsoo sits back up, leaning against the wall. "that's not the point. the point is that i like jongin and i don't know what to do after that."
deep dents form between sehun's raised eyebrows. he stares at kyungsoo and wonders how it is scientifically possible for one person to be this naive. "isn't it obvious? you ask him to hang out and you guys date. see how it goes and if you're still interested, you bang bang that ass and voila! as much as i hate you going out with hottie patootie kai, i just want to see you happy. ooops--no don't hug me."
"but how?!" fingernails fall victim to kyungsoo's teeth. nibbling on his nails is his tell tale sign of nervousness. "is there a wiki guide for that? how can he be my boyfriend? do i have to pet him? how many times a day will i have to feed him?"
sehun grips kyungsoo by his shoulders and murmurs. "it'll be okay. just relax. don't think too much, you'll get wrinkles. just think of it as applied.... well, whatever shit you're writing on the internet. real life isn't any different."
[note:- this is my version of burying things i can't stand seeing anymore. r.i.p.
-and the final one is supposed to be in kouhai noticed me which isn't very original for a sequel. but i give up so yeah. i salvaged that one ;;
-here's to hoping my next update will be decent :)]