dead reckoning
Title: dead reckoning
Pairing: baekhyun/kyungsoo | past chanyeol/baekhyun | unrequited(?) chanyeol/kyungsoo | one-sided jongdae/kyungsoo
Rating: overall pg-13, i believe, but planning for future sex love sounds.
Genre: is this angst?
Length: 3.2k (endgoal...10k?)
Summary/Warnings: chanyeol isn't a present character since he's dead so any and all chanyeol pairings are from flashbacks and memories. so its not really character death since he isn't alive during the plot? ok anyway, the title comes from the quote 'dead reckoning' from the dictionary of obscure sorrows.
a/n: nothing happens with baeksoo this chapter so...
also, this is still un-edited so...well-half edited half not.
took me forever to choose a wip, since i have tons. tied for first place was this and a 10k lesbian taohun.
i'm in like, five exchanges, so if i were you i wouldn't expect much from me.
"Do you want someone to go with you?" Jongdae asked over the phone that morning. Kyungsoo sat staring at the suit he had never worn, wondering when everything would finally sink in.
"You can't," replied Kyungsoo softly through the receiver. "Yura asked me to come alone."
Things went quiet on the line. Jongdae sighed before asking, "Why would she ask you to come to his funeral alone?"
Kyungsoo slid his hand underneath his bed, searching for the box he kept there. It was a wooden box, misshapen in a way achieved through miscalculating the dimensions in beginner's carpentry class. He kept his secrets in that box, along with forgotten promises.
"Chanyeol probably wanted it that way, Jongdae." The phone almost fell from his shaking hands. He hadn't opened this box in years. "Not many people know Chanyeol the way I do."
"Knew," corrected Jongdae. "Not many people knew him like you did."
Kyungsoo had to fight to hold back the laughter threatening to crawl up his throat. It's absurd to think that Chanyeol-Park Chanyeol, of all people -is dead. But here he is, preparing for his funeral. He couldn't believe it when he got the call from Yura, and a part of him will never believe it.
"Promise you'll call me when it's over? I'll come pick you up." It was a sickening thing to think, but in that moment, Kyungsoo thought about how much different it would be if Jongdeok had given him the call instead; if the reason he had to put on a black suit was because his coworker had passed away and all he had to miss was their drinking dates on weekends and keeping each other awake on Monday's conferences.
"I will. Thanks for checking up on me."
Jongdae sighed, and Kyungsoo could imagine the expression he wore on his face. "I'm always here, you know. Don't always keep everything to yourself. I know how much he meant to you-"
Means, he wanted to scream. "I have to go, Jongdae," he interrupted. He hated hearing this from other people. "I'll talk to you later." He hung up before Jongdae could say anything else. Not that he didn't appreciate his concern, but Jongdae would never understand. Kyungsoo didn't just lose an old friend. He lost Chanyeol.
-
The funeral wasn't at all how he expected it to be.
The church was mostly empty but not in an unsettling way. It was a small church. The same one Chanyeol frequented during college. Yura sat in the very front, next to Chanyeol's parents. The sight of her tear stained face caused his heart to clench painfully. She looked so much like him, and seeing her again brought up years of memories.
He walked slowly to the front, feet carrying him forward soundlessly. There was a band up front, behind the pastor, and he belatedly noticed that there wasn't a casket.
"Kyungsoo-ssi," Yura whispered. It was the first time he had seen her in over five years. Her parents looked up and followed her line of vision, spotting him immediately. "You made it."
"Of course," he replied. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, traffic-”
"It's no problem," she interjected. "We're still waiting on one more person."
He greeted Chanyeol's parents with a respectful bow. He couldn't remember the last time he saw either of them.
"Where is everyone else?" he asked Yura quietly. The place should have been packed with their old classmates. Everyone loved Chanyeol.
"There isn't anyone else. He wanted this part to be very intimate."
Kyungsoo furrowed his brows, confused. "What do you mean, ‘he wanted?’ How do you know?"
"Kyungsoo-ssi," she said softly, face apologetic. "Chanyeol knew he was dying. He left me instructions. Trusted me to grant his last wishes." She frowned, head turning around to look for something. "As soon as he gets here, we can proceed with-” She halted her speech suddenly, eyes shimmering with fresh tears.
Somewhere in the back, a door slammed shut. Kyungsoo turned to face the source of the sound and caught sight of a man standing in the middle of the aisle, hands covering the bottom of his face. He wore all black, like Kyungsoo, except his outfit was much less formal: a leather jacket over a button up shirt framing his small torso, and a pair of dark jeans leading down to the only formal article of clothing he had on, which were his shoes. Kyungsoo had never seen him before and was just about to ask Yura if she knew who he was, but the answer came from her parents.
"Baekhyun!" Mrs. Park cried, launching her petite body out of her seat and reaching her arms out in the man's direction.
After a beat of hesitation, he jolted forward, running into her arms. Mr. Park covered his own sobs with the back of his hand, while Yura joined her mother in embracing the mysterious Baekhyun person.
Kyungsoo felt as if he missed something, and not just through the years of scattered contact. It was something bigger than that. Something that told him that he wasn't the only one with secrets.
"My parents are still abroad. I got on a plane as soon as I heard the news," Baekhyun had said to Mrs. Park. She leaned back from the embrace, just enough to look at his face. Mr. Park squeezed Baekhyun on the shoulder, attempting to look put together, smiling like he'd just won something.
That's where Chanyeol must have gotten his optimism from, Kyungsoo thought.
"Baekhyun." Yura wiped her face discreetly and smiled. "Long time no see."
Baekhyun chuckled sadly. "I've missed you, little big sister."
"You too, Byun." Yura slapped him gently on the arm, a gesture Kyungsoo assumed was meant to reprimand him for being out of touch.
He sat off to the side waiting for an explanation, for someone to fill in the empty squares. He waited for everything to start making sense. He waited for reality to start feeling real. Kyungsoo liked to think that he knew Chanyeol better than anyone else in the world. He could close his eyes and map out each and every piece of Chanyeol, without missing a particle.
At least he thought he could, before Baekhyun.
-
Kyungsoo was never formally introduced to Baekhyun. It was apparent Chanyeol's family assumed that they knew each other; Yura had instructed Baekhyun to sit next to Kyungsoo, and the questioning look Baekhyun turned in his direction didn't go unnoticed.
The funeral was a lot like a practical joke. At least -that's how it felt.
The music wasn't sentimental. It was nostalgic. The first song was written by Chanyeol for his parents' retirement. Kyungsoo had been the one to sing it with him. After the third song played during the ceremony, Kyungsoo no longer understood. Chanyeol didn't like music that mostly featured a piano.
Yet, Baekhyun seemed to understand. He stood up to join the band with his vocals. He sang as if the song was made for him, and judging by the approving looks from Chanyeol's family, it might have been.
Everything ended with a couple of words from the pastor, and closing remarks from Yura, dictating the message Chanyeol gave to her before he passed.
There were a lot of tears and numerous revelations.
Kyungsoo learned why there wasn't a casket. Suddenly the band's presence became more important.
Chanyeol, forever the hero, was an organ donor, and each member of the band held some part of Chanyeol in their bodies. Kyungsoo felt it was a little unfair, but mostly inherently Chanyeol. Chanyeol always thought of others before himself. He derived pleasure from seeing other people smile.
Kyungsoo also learned that Chanyeol had more than one person he considered his best friend. This knowledge almost hurt more than having to refer to Chanyeol as being deceased. It tasted a lot like betrayal, although it shouldn't have. After all, Chanyeol did meet Baekhyun first. If anyone should feel betrayed, it should be Baekhyun. But the last thing Kyungsoo had the ability to do was sympathize. He was in pain, and his pain would always trump his logic.
Baekhyun had to be back on a plane by seven that evening, but he promised he'd fly back by the end of the week. Kyungsoo was glad to be rid of the unsettling presence, but the rest of his company didn't share his sentiments. Baekhyun was a childhood friend. Or the one and only childhood friend, judging from the stories he steals from Yura during dinner.
"Baekhyun and Chanyeol were inseparable," Yura began. Her face was flushed with the effects of the wine she had been drinking and Kyungsoo knew from prior experience that the Parks were chatty drunks. "We saw Baekhyun more than his own parents did, probably."
"Chanyeol claimed he and Baekhyun had a spiritual bond," Mr. Park added.
Kyungsoo hated looking into their eyes and seeing the memories stored there. He had no rights to Chanyeol's childhood. And the envy he felt for Baekhyun in that moment was enough to stain the whites of his eyes green.
"They were always up in Chanyeol's room, writing nonsense and being loud," recalled Mr. Park fondly. "Boy couldn't sing a lick. Baekhyun had to sit him down and explain how to make the most of his voice."
Kyungsoo couldn't wrap his mind around that image.
Chanyeol was synonymous with music. They sang together for years and not once did Chanyeol fail to impress. Kyungsoo should have known he wasn't Chanyeol's first songbird.
Mrs. Park laughed into her husband's shoulder. "Baekhyun was the center of the family band and he didn't even live with us."
Kyungsoo laughed along with them although he felt robbed. He felt robbed of Chanyeol, of his memories. He was supposed to know Chanyeol like oxygen knew the inside of lungs, as familiar as breathing. Chanyeol had never been a private person, but Kyungsoo hadn't taken into consideration his ability to compartmentalize his relationships. He hadn't taken notice of the seamless manner he would integrate himself into other peoples' lives until there was no distinction between the moments that belonged in the space of your own solitude and which belonged with the version of you that couldn't remember the taste of loneliness.
Yura, as perceptive as Chanyeol would have been in the same situation, noticed his discomfort.
"What's the matter, Kyungsoo-ssi?" she discreetly whispered from across the table. She had a bit of pasta sauce on her face, right above her lip and just to the side of her nose, a peculiar place to have remnants of dinner. She reminded Kyungsoo of Chanyeol more than ever in that moment.
"Why do you still use formalities with me? You can speak comfortably." It never mattered before, but it seemed highly out of place then. Kyungsoo had remained appropriately distanced from Chanyeol's parents -even after knowing them for half a decade -but he felt more familiar with Yura than he did with his own sibling.
Yura flushed a pretty pink from embarrassment.
"You're always so quiet and polite even when you were with Yeol," she explained. "I guess I had gotten used to you speaking to me like you were talking to my parents."
"I didn't want to seem rude," Kyungsoo explained, which to him was a valid excuse. It never occurred to him that being the first to drop the awkward barrier would have been best. From what he saw of Baekhyun, the comfortable, almost vulgar way he spoke to Yura seemed to have a beneficial effect on their relationship. It may not have been something Kyungsoo would be comfortable with, but the playful banter he saw between the two of them was certainly desirable. After all, at one point, being accepted by Chanyeol's family was the accomplishment he looked forward to the most.
"It's a shame it took my baby brother's death to bring Baekhyun back. And to get closer to you." Yura sighed, dropping her utensils down clumsily, in a way that would have seemed intentional if not for her grimace. "I'm so sorry he never said anything. I'm so sorry I was the only one to know. There was no time."
Kyungsoo didn't blame Yura, but he knew how guilty she must have felt to be the sole owner of the knowledge of Chanyeol's impending death.
"Don't apologize for something like that. It was out of your hands. It was out of Chanyeol's hands too."
"He deserved to live more than any of us."
"You're right," Kyungsoo agreed, thinking about every moment spent curled up against Chanyeol's side on Thursday nights watching movies. It would never happen again. He had never taken Chanyeol's presence for granted, but he hadn't let his thoughts stray to something as morbid as death either. "He deserved a lot more."
-
Kyungsoo was a man of honored promises, but he hadn't called Jongdae to come and pick him up. That thin line of acquaintanceship had thickened into something slightly more complicated. Kyungsoo got along well with Jongdae, of course, but their meetings beyond that of a professional setting were brief and casual. To burden Jongdae with a responsibility more out of sympathy and convenience than actual intimacy would be selfish. In all honestly, Jongdae liked Kyungsoo a lot more than the latter liked him. It would be a little like saying, “I'd choose a dead man over you,” and Kyungsoo hated to be cruel.
The Parks left the restaurant well before Kyungsoo. They offered to give him a ride home, as it was late and had begun to rain. He should have accepted, but seeing a half painted family portrait was a little too much to bear. He hadn't thought to bring an umbrella.
He stepped outside, cursing the sudden rain and cursing every circumstance that landed him at a funeral he should never have had to attend in a suit that should have remained at the furthest end of his closet covered in dust.
His phone rang, almost drowned in the sound of the heavy downpour. His only salvation was the awning that protected the restaurant’s outdoor seating. The screen read 'Kim Jongdae' and no self-sabotaging thoughts could have prevented him from answering.
"Hello?"
"Tell me where you are. I just know you forgot your umbrella. Are you standing outside with no umbrella?"
"I'm at the Italian place not too far from the library."
"Go inside," Jongdae ordered, voice muffled by static and low reception. "I'm in the tunnel. Ten minutes." The connection ended abruptly after, as Kyungsoo shivered for the first time.
True to his words, Jongdae's car pulled up at exactly ten minutes after their phone call. The door opened before the car had come to a complete stop, and Jongdae's blue umbrella came out of the car first. "I told you to go back inside!"
Kyungsoo welcomed the cold of the rain more than he did the empty table inside. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
He let out a relieved sigh the moment Jongdae pushed him forward by the shoulders, blue umbrella held out in front of him. "I can't help but to worry, Kyungsoo. I've known you for two years, and the only thing I really know about you for certain is how much you loved Chanyeol."
There was something emotionally provoking about someone as perfectly distant as Jongdae, commenting on his love for Chanyeol. It had never felt much like a secret to Kyungsoo, but over the years, it had become less urgent to have his feelings reciprocated and more urgent to remain the person Chanyeol depended on the most. Of course, Jongdae had figured out the obvious. Chanyeol came first, in any given situation, and Jongdae understood that. However, there were some things Jongdae would never understand -like being in love with one man, so desperately, for years. A love that often broke his heart.
"You don't get it," Kyungsoo found himself saying as Jongdae held open the passenger's door. "I need him."
Jongdae frowned, looking remorseful. The rain hadn't let up in the slightest, and Jongdae's car was warm and dry.
"I'll let you explain it to me," he replied, closing the door on Kyungsoo's silence and dashing to the other side of the car. Jongdae tossed the umbrella at the bottom of Kyungsoo's feet, startling him. "I talked to the boss. He sends his condolences and asks that you take some time off."
"I don't want to take time off, Jongdae."
"I thought you might say that, but, he’s worried, I'm worried, and you really should take some time off. At least the rest of the week, Kyungsoo."
"I don't need time off! I need everything to start making sense! Nothing makes sense. Chanyeol was fine. He was fine. Now he-he's dead and nothing is making any fucking sense." Kyungsoo had never been easily pushed to tears, but sitting in Jongdae's car, hours after the funeral of the most important person in his life -he couldn't stop them.
He was grateful that Jongdae understood not to press the subject any further. Instead, he looked straight ahead and drove. In some kind of twisted reflex, Kyungsoo instinctively thought of Chanyeol's hands carding through his hair -the first thing Chanyeol did when Kyungsoo was visibly upset. Asking Jongdae to essentially pet him like a child would only cause more problems for them both. Chanyeol was gone, and he had to settle for not second best but all that's left. Comparing Jongdae and Chanyeol a handful of moments after the latter's funeral was wrong, but isn't that what people did when they didn't get what they wanted?
"This is me being a friend, whether you like it or not, and I know you don't like it."
Kyungsoo hadn't noticed the car wasn't moving, nor that they were parked outside of Jongdae's apartment complex. For a minute, Kyungsoo just stared at Jongdae, trying to come to some conclusion. He thought more about Jongdae in one day than he had ever done since they met two years ago.
"Why?" he asked, meaning a lot of things, and one thing, at once.
"This is probably the shittiest thing I've done in my entire life," Jongdae mumbled before a great sigh. "I've been in love with you for a while, and while I completely understand where your heart is, I think you really need to let him go. Not just because of the circumstances, it's beyond that. You aren't happy. Fuck, this sounds so fucked up, but why love someone who can't love you back, when I'm right here?!"
The rational response would have been to agree, but Kyungsoo was raw and impulsive with the full weight of a tragedy. He looked at Jongdae, eyes filled with malevolence.
"Do you have the right to say this to me?" Kyungsoo asked. "You want me, right? No matter how much you try, you won't have me-”
"Kyungsoo, wait--"
"Because whatever I had left died with Chanyeol. He's dead, Jongdae. He's fucking dead, and I'll still love him. I still choose him over you. Don't you get it? It's bad, Jongdae, but I love him so fucking much."
"Kyungsoo, please."
"A-and if I were to fuck you, what's stopping me from wishing it was Chanyeol instead? He's fucking dead, and I still want him to touch me."
"That's not what I'm asking. I'm just trying to get you to see that you can't keep loving Chanyeol. He's gone now."
"You make it sound like love is something you can shut off when it falls out of the realm of possibility."
a/n: abruptly ends here since this is all i wrote. /shimmies shoulders
Pairing: baekhyun/kyungsoo | past chanyeol/baekhyun | unrequited(?) chanyeol/kyungsoo | one-sided jongdae/kyungsoo
Rating: overall pg-13, i believe, but planning for future sex love sounds.
Genre: is this angst?
Length: 3.2k (endgoal...10k?)
Summary/Warnings: chanyeol isn't a present character since he's dead so any and all chanyeol pairings are from flashbacks and memories. so its not really character death since he isn't alive during the plot? ok anyway, the title comes from the quote 'dead reckoning' from the dictionary of obscure sorrows.
a/n: nothing happens with baeksoo this chapter so...
also, this is still un-edited so...well-half edited half not.
took me forever to choose a wip, since i have tons. tied for first place was this and a 10k lesbian taohun.
i'm in like, five exchanges, so if i were you i wouldn't expect much from me.
"Do you want someone to go with you?" Jongdae asked over the phone that morning. Kyungsoo sat staring at the suit he had never worn, wondering when everything would finally sink in.
"You can't," replied Kyungsoo softly through the receiver. "Yura asked me to come alone."
Things went quiet on the line. Jongdae sighed before asking, "Why would she ask you to come to his funeral alone?"
Kyungsoo slid his hand underneath his bed, searching for the box he kept there. It was a wooden box, misshapen in a way achieved through miscalculating the dimensions in beginner's carpentry class. He kept his secrets in that box, along with forgotten promises.
"Chanyeol probably wanted it that way, Jongdae." The phone almost fell from his shaking hands. He hadn't opened this box in years. "Not many people know Chanyeol the way I do."
"Knew," corrected Jongdae. "Not many people knew him like you did."
Kyungsoo had to fight to hold back the laughter threatening to crawl up his throat. It's absurd to think that Chanyeol-Park Chanyeol, of all people -is dead. But here he is, preparing for his funeral. He couldn't believe it when he got the call from Yura, and a part of him will never believe it.
"Promise you'll call me when it's over? I'll come pick you up." It was a sickening thing to think, but in that moment, Kyungsoo thought about how much different it would be if Jongdeok had given him the call instead; if the reason he had to put on a black suit was because his coworker had passed away and all he had to miss was their drinking dates on weekends and keeping each other awake on Monday's conferences.
"I will. Thanks for checking up on me."
Jongdae sighed, and Kyungsoo could imagine the expression he wore on his face. "I'm always here, you know. Don't always keep everything to yourself. I know how much he meant to you-"
Means, he wanted to scream. "I have to go, Jongdae," he interrupted. He hated hearing this from other people. "I'll talk to you later." He hung up before Jongdae could say anything else. Not that he didn't appreciate his concern, but Jongdae would never understand. Kyungsoo didn't just lose an old friend. He lost Chanyeol.
-
The funeral wasn't at all how he expected it to be.
The church was mostly empty but not in an unsettling way. It was a small church. The same one Chanyeol frequented during college. Yura sat in the very front, next to Chanyeol's parents. The sight of her tear stained face caused his heart to clench painfully. She looked so much like him, and seeing her again brought up years of memories.
He walked slowly to the front, feet carrying him forward soundlessly. There was a band up front, behind the pastor, and he belatedly noticed that there wasn't a casket.
"Kyungsoo-ssi," Yura whispered. It was the first time he had seen her in over five years. Her parents looked up and followed her line of vision, spotting him immediately. "You made it."
"Of course," he replied. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, traffic-”
"It's no problem," she interjected. "We're still waiting on one more person."
He greeted Chanyeol's parents with a respectful bow. He couldn't remember the last time he saw either of them.
"Where is everyone else?" he asked Yura quietly. The place should have been packed with their old classmates. Everyone loved Chanyeol.
"There isn't anyone else. He wanted this part to be very intimate."
Kyungsoo furrowed his brows, confused. "What do you mean, ‘he wanted?’ How do you know?"
"Kyungsoo-ssi," she said softly, face apologetic. "Chanyeol knew he was dying. He left me instructions. Trusted me to grant his last wishes." She frowned, head turning around to look for something. "As soon as he gets here, we can proceed with-” She halted her speech suddenly, eyes shimmering with fresh tears.
Somewhere in the back, a door slammed shut. Kyungsoo turned to face the source of the sound and caught sight of a man standing in the middle of the aisle, hands covering the bottom of his face. He wore all black, like Kyungsoo, except his outfit was much less formal: a leather jacket over a button up shirt framing his small torso, and a pair of dark jeans leading down to the only formal article of clothing he had on, which were his shoes. Kyungsoo had never seen him before and was just about to ask Yura if she knew who he was, but the answer came from her parents.
"Baekhyun!" Mrs. Park cried, launching her petite body out of her seat and reaching her arms out in the man's direction.
After a beat of hesitation, he jolted forward, running into her arms. Mr. Park covered his own sobs with the back of his hand, while Yura joined her mother in embracing the mysterious Baekhyun person.
Kyungsoo felt as if he missed something, and not just through the years of scattered contact. It was something bigger than that. Something that told him that he wasn't the only one with secrets.
"My parents are still abroad. I got on a plane as soon as I heard the news," Baekhyun had said to Mrs. Park. She leaned back from the embrace, just enough to look at his face. Mr. Park squeezed Baekhyun on the shoulder, attempting to look put together, smiling like he'd just won something.
That's where Chanyeol must have gotten his optimism from, Kyungsoo thought.
"Baekhyun." Yura wiped her face discreetly and smiled. "Long time no see."
Baekhyun chuckled sadly. "I've missed you, little big sister."
"You too, Byun." Yura slapped him gently on the arm, a gesture Kyungsoo assumed was meant to reprimand him for being out of touch.
He sat off to the side waiting for an explanation, for someone to fill in the empty squares. He waited for everything to start making sense. He waited for reality to start feeling real. Kyungsoo liked to think that he knew Chanyeol better than anyone else in the world. He could close his eyes and map out each and every piece of Chanyeol, without missing a particle.
At least he thought he could, before Baekhyun.
-
Kyungsoo was never formally introduced to Baekhyun. It was apparent Chanyeol's family assumed that they knew each other; Yura had instructed Baekhyun to sit next to Kyungsoo, and the questioning look Baekhyun turned in his direction didn't go unnoticed.
The funeral was a lot like a practical joke. At least -that's how it felt.
The music wasn't sentimental. It was nostalgic. The first song was written by Chanyeol for his parents' retirement. Kyungsoo had been the one to sing it with him. After the third song played during the ceremony, Kyungsoo no longer understood. Chanyeol didn't like music that mostly featured a piano.
Yet, Baekhyun seemed to understand. He stood up to join the band with his vocals. He sang as if the song was made for him, and judging by the approving looks from Chanyeol's family, it might have been.
Everything ended with a couple of words from the pastor, and closing remarks from Yura, dictating the message Chanyeol gave to her before he passed.
There were a lot of tears and numerous revelations.
Kyungsoo learned why there wasn't a casket. Suddenly the band's presence became more important.
Chanyeol, forever the hero, was an organ donor, and each member of the band held some part of Chanyeol in their bodies. Kyungsoo felt it was a little unfair, but mostly inherently Chanyeol. Chanyeol always thought of others before himself. He derived pleasure from seeing other people smile.
Kyungsoo also learned that Chanyeol had more than one person he considered his best friend. This knowledge almost hurt more than having to refer to Chanyeol as being deceased. It tasted a lot like betrayal, although it shouldn't have. After all, Chanyeol did meet Baekhyun first. If anyone should feel betrayed, it should be Baekhyun. But the last thing Kyungsoo had the ability to do was sympathize. He was in pain, and his pain would always trump his logic.
Baekhyun had to be back on a plane by seven that evening, but he promised he'd fly back by the end of the week. Kyungsoo was glad to be rid of the unsettling presence, but the rest of his company didn't share his sentiments. Baekhyun was a childhood friend. Or the one and only childhood friend, judging from the stories he steals from Yura during dinner.
"Baekhyun and Chanyeol were inseparable," Yura began. Her face was flushed with the effects of the wine she had been drinking and Kyungsoo knew from prior experience that the Parks were chatty drunks. "We saw Baekhyun more than his own parents did, probably."
"Chanyeol claimed he and Baekhyun had a spiritual bond," Mr. Park added.
Kyungsoo hated looking into their eyes and seeing the memories stored there. He had no rights to Chanyeol's childhood. And the envy he felt for Baekhyun in that moment was enough to stain the whites of his eyes green.
"They were always up in Chanyeol's room, writing nonsense and being loud," recalled Mr. Park fondly. "Boy couldn't sing a lick. Baekhyun had to sit him down and explain how to make the most of his voice."
Kyungsoo couldn't wrap his mind around that image.
Chanyeol was synonymous with music. They sang together for years and not once did Chanyeol fail to impress. Kyungsoo should have known he wasn't Chanyeol's first songbird.
Mrs. Park laughed into her husband's shoulder. "Baekhyun was the center of the family band and he didn't even live with us."
Kyungsoo laughed along with them although he felt robbed. He felt robbed of Chanyeol, of his memories. He was supposed to know Chanyeol like oxygen knew the inside of lungs, as familiar as breathing. Chanyeol had never been a private person, but Kyungsoo hadn't taken into consideration his ability to compartmentalize his relationships. He hadn't taken notice of the seamless manner he would integrate himself into other peoples' lives until there was no distinction between the moments that belonged in the space of your own solitude and which belonged with the version of you that couldn't remember the taste of loneliness.
Yura, as perceptive as Chanyeol would have been in the same situation, noticed his discomfort.
"What's the matter, Kyungsoo-ssi?" she discreetly whispered from across the table. She had a bit of pasta sauce on her face, right above her lip and just to the side of her nose, a peculiar place to have remnants of dinner. She reminded Kyungsoo of Chanyeol more than ever in that moment.
"Why do you still use formalities with me? You can speak comfortably." It never mattered before, but it seemed highly out of place then. Kyungsoo had remained appropriately distanced from Chanyeol's parents -even after knowing them for half a decade -but he felt more familiar with Yura than he did with his own sibling.
Yura flushed a pretty pink from embarrassment.
"You're always so quiet and polite even when you were with Yeol," she explained. "I guess I had gotten used to you speaking to me like you were talking to my parents."
"I didn't want to seem rude," Kyungsoo explained, which to him was a valid excuse. It never occurred to him that being the first to drop the awkward barrier would have been best. From what he saw of Baekhyun, the comfortable, almost vulgar way he spoke to Yura seemed to have a beneficial effect on their relationship. It may not have been something Kyungsoo would be comfortable with, but the playful banter he saw between the two of them was certainly desirable. After all, at one point, being accepted by Chanyeol's family was the accomplishment he looked forward to the most.
"It's a shame it took my baby brother's death to bring Baekhyun back. And to get closer to you." Yura sighed, dropping her utensils down clumsily, in a way that would have seemed intentional if not for her grimace. "I'm so sorry he never said anything. I'm so sorry I was the only one to know. There was no time."
Kyungsoo didn't blame Yura, but he knew how guilty she must have felt to be the sole owner of the knowledge of Chanyeol's impending death.
"Don't apologize for something like that. It was out of your hands. It was out of Chanyeol's hands too."
"He deserved to live more than any of us."
"You're right," Kyungsoo agreed, thinking about every moment spent curled up against Chanyeol's side on Thursday nights watching movies. It would never happen again. He had never taken Chanyeol's presence for granted, but he hadn't let his thoughts stray to something as morbid as death either. "He deserved a lot more."
-
Kyungsoo was a man of honored promises, but he hadn't called Jongdae to come and pick him up. That thin line of acquaintanceship had thickened into something slightly more complicated. Kyungsoo got along well with Jongdae, of course, but their meetings beyond that of a professional setting were brief and casual. To burden Jongdae with a responsibility more out of sympathy and convenience than actual intimacy would be selfish. In all honestly, Jongdae liked Kyungsoo a lot more than the latter liked him. It would be a little like saying, “I'd choose a dead man over you,” and Kyungsoo hated to be cruel.
The Parks left the restaurant well before Kyungsoo. They offered to give him a ride home, as it was late and had begun to rain. He should have accepted, but seeing a half painted family portrait was a little too much to bear. He hadn't thought to bring an umbrella.
He stepped outside, cursing the sudden rain and cursing every circumstance that landed him at a funeral he should never have had to attend in a suit that should have remained at the furthest end of his closet covered in dust.
His phone rang, almost drowned in the sound of the heavy downpour. His only salvation was the awning that protected the restaurant’s outdoor seating. The screen read 'Kim Jongdae' and no self-sabotaging thoughts could have prevented him from answering.
"Hello?"
"Tell me where you are. I just know you forgot your umbrella. Are you standing outside with no umbrella?"
"I'm at the Italian place not too far from the library."
"Go inside," Jongdae ordered, voice muffled by static and low reception. "I'm in the tunnel. Ten minutes." The connection ended abruptly after, as Kyungsoo shivered for the first time.
True to his words, Jongdae's car pulled up at exactly ten minutes after their phone call. The door opened before the car had come to a complete stop, and Jongdae's blue umbrella came out of the car first. "I told you to go back inside!"
Kyungsoo welcomed the cold of the rain more than he did the empty table inside. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
He let out a relieved sigh the moment Jongdae pushed him forward by the shoulders, blue umbrella held out in front of him. "I can't help but to worry, Kyungsoo. I've known you for two years, and the only thing I really know about you for certain is how much you loved Chanyeol."
There was something emotionally provoking about someone as perfectly distant as Jongdae, commenting on his love for Chanyeol. It had never felt much like a secret to Kyungsoo, but over the years, it had become less urgent to have his feelings reciprocated and more urgent to remain the person Chanyeol depended on the most. Of course, Jongdae had figured out the obvious. Chanyeol came first, in any given situation, and Jongdae understood that. However, there were some things Jongdae would never understand -like being in love with one man, so desperately, for years. A love that often broke his heart.
"You don't get it," Kyungsoo found himself saying as Jongdae held open the passenger's door. "I need him."
Jongdae frowned, looking remorseful. The rain hadn't let up in the slightest, and Jongdae's car was warm and dry.
"I'll let you explain it to me," he replied, closing the door on Kyungsoo's silence and dashing to the other side of the car. Jongdae tossed the umbrella at the bottom of Kyungsoo's feet, startling him. "I talked to the boss. He sends his condolences and asks that you take some time off."
"I don't want to take time off, Jongdae."
"I thought you might say that, but, he’s worried, I'm worried, and you really should take some time off. At least the rest of the week, Kyungsoo."
"I don't need time off! I need everything to start making sense! Nothing makes sense. Chanyeol was fine. He was fine. Now he-he's dead and nothing is making any fucking sense." Kyungsoo had never been easily pushed to tears, but sitting in Jongdae's car, hours after the funeral of the most important person in his life -he couldn't stop them.
He was grateful that Jongdae understood not to press the subject any further. Instead, he looked straight ahead and drove. In some kind of twisted reflex, Kyungsoo instinctively thought of Chanyeol's hands carding through his hair -the first thing Chanyeol did when Kyungsoo was visibly upset. Asking Jongdae to essentially pet him like a child would only cause more problems for them both. Chanyeol was gone, and he had to settle for not second best but all that's left. Comparing Jongdae and Chanyeol a handful of moments after the latter's funeral was wrong, but isn't that what people did when they didn't get what they wanted?
"This is me being a friend, whether you like it or not, and I know you don't like it."
Kyungsoo hadn't noticed the car wasn't moving, nor that they were parked outside of Jongdae's apartment complex. For a minute, Kyungsoo just stared at Jongdae, trying to come to some conclusion. He thought more about Jongdae in one day than he had ever done since they met two years ago.
"Why?" he asked, meaning a lot of things, and one thing, at once.
"This is probably the shittiest thing I've done in my entire life," Jongdae mumbled before a great sigh. "I've been in love with you for a while, and while I completely understand where your heart is, I think you really need to let him go. Not just because of the circumstances, it's beyond that. You aren't happy. Fuck, this sounds so fucked up, but why love someone who can't love you back, when I'm right here?!"
The rational response would have been to agree, but Kyungsoo was raw and impulsive with the full weight of a tragedy. He looked at Jongdae, eyes filled with malevolence.
"Do you have the right to say this to me?" Kyungsoo asked. "You want me, right? No matter how much you try, you won't have me-”
"Kyungsoo, wait--"
"Because whatever I had left died with Chanyeol. He's dead, Jongdae. He's fucking dead, and I'll still love him. I still choose him over you. Don't you get it? It's bad, Jongdae, but I love him so fucking much."
"Kyungsoo, please."
"A-and if I were to fuck you, what's stopping me from wishing it was Chanyeol instead? He's fucking dead, and I still want him to touch me."
"That's not what I'm asking. I'm just trying to get you to see that you can't keep loving Chanyeol. He's gone now."
"You make it sound like love is something you can shut off when it falls out of the realm of possibility."
a/n: abruptly ends here since this is all i wrote. /shimmies shoulders