[EXO] Knock
Title: Knock
Author: yoonyuljetiftw
Pairing/Members: Jongin/Kyungsoo, Joonmyun/Kyungsoo, Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Written for aideshou's Challenge 07 | sciamachy n. a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow ©
Disclaimer: Based on film-extraordinaire Kim Ki-duk' '3-iron (Empty House)'
"Geez, Baekkie! You couldn't give the mailman a heads up that we'd be out of town?"
Baekhyun turns to give the taller man the huffiest glare he can manage, given that said taller man is beaming down at him in all his 6-foot glory with lop-sided Mickey Mouse ears and a Winnie the Pooh plushie that appears too overweight to fit through the front door.
"And who was it throwing me off the bed at 4 in the morning because we needed to board a plane to California in less than 2 hours? Go ahead, enlighten me, Yeol," Baekhyun gripes, as he digs into his back pockets for the house keys.
Chanyeol playfully bumps the shorter one in the shoulder, which is enough to evoke a grin in the latter.
"Please, it's not every day you win a 7-day-6-night all-expenses-paid vacay to Disneyland!”
Baekhyun’s smile expands a few centimeters in length when he sees the good-natured glee in his boyfriend’s eyes. It’s hard to stay mad at him, it really is, especially with his focus more on searching for their keys than on his 26-going-on-10-year-old boyfriend.
He could’ve sworn he placed them in the front pocket of the carry-on before they left, but his hand comes up empty, save for some ticket stubs and used gum wrappers.
“Yeol-ah, do you happen to have the keys on you?”
“Hmm what?” Chanyeol stops batting at Winnie the Pooh’s ears long enough to look up.
“Never mind,” Baekhyun sighs.
“Oh, the keys! No worries, Baek. I always keep a spare under the mat!”
“You did what now?” Baekhyun perks up from where he is squatting by an open suitcase, horrified beyond belief. "Why don't you just go ahead and announce to the whole world ‘Steal from me!’ That’s like the #1 place for burglars and thieves to look!”
“Sheesh, I’m sorry, Baek. But I don’t see you coming up with our keys any time soon! Be grateful your boyfriend is smarter than you,” Chanyeol replies, bending over to ruffle the shorter man’s hair.
Baekhyun grumbles to himself something about smartass boyfriends kissing his ass as he lifts the floormat, relieved to see the glint of metal peeking out from underneath. He won’t ever admit it out loud, but it's times like these that make him appreciate Chanyeol’s brain.
He wipes his hands off onto his jeans and proceeds to insert the key in the lock. It has been an unforgettably delightful week, but he’s ready to be back home. Baekhyun gazes up once more at Chanyeol, who’s at the moment occupied with batting away at his Mickey Mouse ears.
“I hope you’re ready, Yeol, because we have some serious cleaning to-"
Chanyeol is able to hook his arm before Baekhyun could go flying off, saving him from some potentially egregious plastic surgery bills.
“Ohmigosh, Baekkie! Are you okay?” Chanyeol shouts, albeit a bit too dramatically for the situation. He frantically pats Baekhyun up and down, turning him over for any signs of damage.
“Ahck, Yeol, get off me, I’m fine!” Baekhyun protests. “Really I am, see?”
Baekhyun twirls once for Chanyeol, which seems to do the trick of temporarily abating his worries.
“What happened? One second, I'm standing here making sure I got my Mickey ears on right and next thing I know, you’re about to take a nosedive onto our hardwood floor. It’s hardwood, Baek hardwood!”
“I get it, I get it, but I honestly have no clue,” Baekhyun answers. He walks back to the doorknob and gives it a hard twist. “Wasn’t this thing broken for ages? Did you call someone to get it fixed?”
“Pfft, you didn’t have time to call the mailman, but you expect me to have called a repairman? Or woman,” Chanyeol adds, when he sees Baekhyun’s perturbed expression. “I’m not sexist.”
Baekhyun snickers at his boyfriend’s keen timing for comedy. He continues to stare at the doorknob skeptically, as if staring at it would get it to talk. Just as he steps outside to retrieve their suitcases from the doorstep, it dawns on Baekhyun that something far worse might be at play here.
He snaps around and to his dismay, realizes that he and Chanyeol are not alone.
“Chanyeol, quick! Get under the table!” Baekhyun hisses, dragging the taller man down with him.
“What the-ow, Baekkie! That hurts!”
“Shhh!” Baekhyun clamps his hand over the mouth of Chanyeol, who seems more preoccupied with furiously rubbing the top of this head. That’s the one bad thing about tall boyfriends: they don’t fit very well under tables.
“Don’t you see? Someone’s in our house!” Baekhyun all but shrieks at Chanyeol.
Chanyeol gulps before taking a good look around their home for the first time since getting back. Panic sets in his eyes.
“Baekkie, I’ve never seen the place so clean! What the fuck is going on?”
Baekhyun cautiously peers over Chanyeol to survey their surroundings. There isn’t a lick of dust to be seen and Baekhyun double-checks this by swiping his index finger along the ground. To his shock, he also sees that their couch is a rich mahogany and not brown like they had once believed. Before Baekhyun gets too lost in the idea of having to buy new matching curtains, he slaps himself back to their present terrifying reality.
“I don’t know, genius! But if I did, we wouldn’t be huddling under our dining room table now would we?” Baekhyun snaps, but is immediately remorseful when he sees the hurt in Chanyeol’s eyes.
He reaches out for Chanyeol’s face, when the taller snatches his hand in a vice grip. “Baekkie, the baseball bat!”
“What?” Baekhyun responds, gingerly caressing his right hand once it's returned to him.
“The baseball bat! Go get it for me. I’ll drive the bastard out. I will protect you Let me protect you!”
Baekhyun has never before seen his boyfriend so adamant and demanding, and if it weren’t for the gravity of their predicament, it would be a total turn-on. Matter of fact, it’s totally a turn-on.
“It’s in the coat closet!” Chanyeol whisper-screeches at Baekhyun's back as he scrambles to get on his feet.
When Baekhyun resurfaces, Chanyeol grabs for the Louisville Slugger in one hand and Baekhyun in the other.
“Stay behind me at all times, you hear?”
Baekhyun nods fervently.
Both of Chanyeol's hands are tightly wound around the baseball bat given to him by his late grandfather. He secretly prays that he doesn’t have to use it because bloodstains would seriously depreciate the value of this commemorative-edition model, and he was looking forward to starring in an episode o 'Antiques Roadshow,' ut if it’s to protect his Baekhyun, he will go to any lengths.
Baekhyun trails along without noise, clutching onto Chanyeol’s Minnie Mouse shirt (they were wanting couple tees and Baekhyun won the round of rock-paper-scissors) for dear life. They look in the kitchen. No one. They look in the bathroom. No one. All that’s left is the bedroom, and Baekhyun hopes to god that there is no one in it either. Lucky for him and unlucky for the suspect-at-large, the numerous complaints they’ve gotten from the neighbors confirm that Baekhyun is indeed a screamer, and he is not ashamed to use his talents to protect his Chanyeol if it comes to that.
“Baekkie, you listening?” Chanyeol whistles over his shoulder. “On the count of three, I’m going to open this closet door. And when I do, I want you to scream. Blink once for yes. Blink twice for no.”
Baekhyun blinks once.
“Okay now, one… two-”
Baekhyun screams bloody murder and swings open the closet door himself.
No one.
They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity but is more akin to 38 seconds. Chanyeol leans over and scoops Baekhyun up in his embrace.
“See, Baekkie? I kept you safe,” Chanyeol mumbles into the top of his head.
“Yeah right, loser. You can’t even play baseball. If it wasn’t for me, we’d all be dead,” Baekhyun retorts, sticking out his tongue for good measure.
“Okay, you win,” Chanyeol gives in, tenderly stroking Baekhyun’s hair.
Baekhyun is busy snuggling against the warmth of Chanyeol’s nape when he is violently grasped at the elbows. “Baekhyun, I know who did this!”
“Dear god, please don’t tell me you believe in the housecleaning fairy or something.”
“No, sillypoo,” Chanyeol chides, lightly flicking the smaller on the forehead. “Remember how we left a set of keys at your mom's? And you know how she’s always yelling at me for holing you up in a pigsty.”
The revelation erases the scowl on Baekhyun’s face and brings stillness to his heart. Once again, he finds himself grateful for his boyfriend’s smarts.
“So… Yeol? Now that we've steered clear from imminent danger, I was wondering…"
"Yes, Baekkie?"
"Do you think our bed still remembers us?”
Chanyeol has no time to react as the shorter squashes any protests with his lips.
Half-perched on the windowsill with his left leg dangling over the ledge, Jongin takes one final glance around the place he called home for the past three days. He congratulates himself on another success, but truthfully, he’s just lucky to have picked a place that belongs to the two loudest idiots in Seoul.
Seeing as he is no longer a wanted guest, Jongin pockets his Swiss Army knife, a few crumpled bills, and a half-eaten granola bar.
He slips out the window and into the night, onwards to the next door to knock on.
_______________
Jongin has always been on the run. He ran from a drug addict mother and absentee father at the age of 13, and he continued to run from every schoolyard and foster home thereafter. A 6-month stint in juvie for three counts of shoplifting and two counts of vandalism is the longest he ever remained in one place. After one too many encounters with a cell-block thug who basically held onto his throne by keeping within the upper limits of the childhood obesity curve, Jongin comes to learn that stealth and shadows are his truest friends. For this reason, 7 years after his release, Jongin packs lightly and travels alone.
He likes to think of himself as a door-to-door salesman, with less selling and more breaking-and-entering. But he's a good guest--he never leaves a mess and he never overstays his welcome. He makes sure the plants are watered, the refrigerator is full and the laundry folded. And when there's time, Jongin likes to fix things. Clocks are his specialty. He’s also been known to unclog a toilet drain or two.
He doesn’t regularly hang about neighborhoods like this, for he discovers that the wealthier the inhabitants, the more likely he’s to run into pesky alarm systems and guard dogs. But he’s been watching this particular one for the past two days and not a single soul has entered or left. It’s not every day one stumbles upon an empty castle in the middle of Gangnam and Jongin finds the opportunity too tempting to resist.
He knocks once, knocks twice-for no reason other than habit. One flick of his pocketknife and a swipe of a long-declined credit card later, Jongin waits for that melodious click of the doorknob before exhaling. No sirens or flashing lights greet him on the other side, so Jongin slinks his way in, gently locking the door behind him.
The interior is far bigger than he imagined, and he isn’t sure whether that alone explains the emptiness. Jongin locates the kitchen and searches for supplies to brew a cup of tea. Four cabinets later, he’s eye to eye with a collection of tea bags neatly sorted by name, color, and country of origin. Jongin almost feels sorry for ruining the perfection, but he badly wants a cup of tea.
He starts with all the corridors, wanting to get a feel for the general layout of the house, in case the need rises for an impromptu emergency exit. The homeowner must have a thing for landscapes and the occasional nude. Jongin is astonished there aren’t any portraits-most people with this sort of money tend to be a little narcissistic.
Jongin is eventually at a dead end and face-to-face with fairly large painting. The man in front has such a saccharine smile, it makes Jongin nauseous. But it’s the man by his side that catches Jongin’s eye. Dense dark eyebrows framing large wide eyes perched upon a strong nose reigning over bright full lips. He tilts the frame a few centimeters from horizontal, until those lips are the centermost point. Now the painting is perfect.
The house is so spotless and orderly that Jongin begins to feel somewhat useless. With nothing better to do, he heads for the nearest bathroom. He doesn’t remember when he showered last, and he’s excited to getting the grime out from under his nails.
The constant stream of hot water is a warm welcome for his weary bones. He's aware he’s young, but he’s tired and that makes him feel beyond his years. Jongin parts his mouth slightly and allows the hot water to soothe his throat. For a second, he forgets where he is and why.
But seconds are precious and not to be wasted. Jongin sees past his reflection in the glass that he is not alone.
He whips around and to his surprise, is met with a familiar face.
Jongin is dripping wet with nothing but a shampoo bottle for coverage, and the longer the man from the painting stands there staring, the redder the tips of Jongin’s ears become.
“I thought you could use some towels,” the man ventures sheepishly. “I don’t normally stock this bathroom.”
Jongin slowly reaches for the offering, unsure of what to make of the man just yet.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, I promise,” the man adds, a tiny smile to accompany his words.
Jongin nods a wary thank you.
“I won’t hurt you.”
Jongin looks down at the small white hands wrapped around his wrist.
“Will you stay?”
Jongin looks into those big round eyes and it’s impossible to say no.
_______________
“I see you like tea,” the man says, placing a brand new steaming mug in front of Jongin.
The man wordlessly watches Jongin take a drink before impulsively exclaiming, “Oh, how rude of me! I’m Kyungsoo.”
Jongin's reflexes have long been trained not to react to everything that goes bump in the night, yet he still finds himself spilling nearly the entire contents of cup onto his lap as a result of the outburst.
Kyungsoo instantly swoops down on him, clucking like a mother hen as he wipes away at Jongin’s shirt, with intermittent ‘You have to be more careful!’s thrown in.
Jongin eyes the man who is intent on patting him dry with tissues and he too wants to tell him his name. But his tongue tastes like mothballs and the hinges of his jaw rusty from disuse, so he keeps his silence.
“No, this won’t do. I’m going to have to get you a new shirt. Come with me.”
Jongin follows obediently up the stairwell, hand caught in the smaller. Halfway up, Kyungsoo gazes back down at Jongin and Jongin is blinded by his radiance and forgets to breathe.
“Almost there.”
Kyungsoo seats Jongin on the edge of the bed and tells him to lift his arms. Jongin obeys. Kyungsoo’s slim fingers race up the sides up his ribcage, leaving trails of fiery ice in their wake, as the damps fabric is lifted off his frame.
“Will you stay?” Kyungsoo whispers.
Jongin looks into those big pleading eyes and it’s impossible to say no.
_______________
“You need to leave.”
Jongin tries to quickly blink away the sleep, but his eyes are having difficulty adjusting to the darkness.
“Please, you have to leave!” Kyungsoo begs him.
“Babe, you home?”
Kyungsoo straightens up at the second voice, terror etched into his brow. Without warning, he shoves Jongin off the bed and rams him into the nearest closet. In his haste, Kyungsoo doesn’t shut the doors completely, but it would have been too late anyway because now there is someone other than Kyungsoo and Jongin in the bedroom.
“Joon-Joonmyun, you’re home early.”
The newcomer reeks of alcohol and his hair is a disarray of old gel and sweat, necktie clinging precariously to his collar.
“Soo-yah, I came home just for you. Were you expecting someone else?” Joonmyun slurs, lurching forward for the younger man.
Kyungsoo barely catches the drunkard in time, all but crashing to the ground under the sudden weight.
“Of course not, dear,” Kyungsoo assures, doing his best to mask the desperation.
Joonmyun’s eyes are fixed on him and Kyungsoo is afraid to even blink.
“You're lying,” Joonmyun spits out, before slashing the back of his hand across the other’s face.
Kyungsoo’s head collides into one of the bedpost before he tumbles to the floor.
Jongin looks between the cracks of the closet door into those big frantic eyes and it is impossible to say no.
He instinctively grabs for the heaviest thing he can get his hands on and bolts out the double doors. All he sees is his target, and he swings once, swings twice. There is a sickening crack and all goes numb.
“What have you done?”
Jongin looks up from the still body on the floor.
“What have you done?”
Jongin looks down at his trembling hands and drops the golf club.
“What have you done?”
Jongin looks into those big broken eyes and knows it's time to say no.
Kyungsoo caresses Joonmyun’s face over and over again. He lays his ear against his motionless chest and waits with bated breath.
His heart still beats.
Kyungsoo flowers the other with kisses and whispers over and over again, “It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.”
As the paramedics come to take Joonmyun away, Kyungsoo takes one final glance back at the house.
He asks the shadows, “Will you stay?”
_______________
“Joonmyun, your tea’s just about ready,” Kyungsoo calls over his shoulder while pouring boiled water into three matching cups.
Kyungsoo sees that Joonmyun is staring out the window again, probably counting snowflakes. It's their first Christmas together all under one roof and he thinks it would be a shame if Kyungsoo were the only one to enjoy it. Swallowing a sigh, he asks, “Is everything all right? Shall I get a blanket for you?” before turning his attention back to his assortment of teas.
The lack of an answer worries him, but before anything needs to be done about it, Kyungsoo looks and sees Joonmyun clenching a wool blanket tightly around his shoulders. Kyungsoo is pleased with the sight and walks over with a mug in each hand.
“Here you go. I brewed this blend just for you. I know how much you like your tea,” Kyungsoo says, setting a cup down before Joonmyun.
“You know I’m more of a coffee person,” Joonmyun replies softly.
“That’s right. That you are,” Kyungsoo acknowledges with a bashful grin.
Joonmyun could burn a hole clean through the ceramic with his contemplation. He starts to open his mouth when Kyungsoo beats him to it, “I’m sorry, dear. I forgot your spoon. Let me go get-”
He grasps the younger’s hand and Kyungsoo promptly sits back down. There's a sweetness emanating from the other that threatens to engulf Joonmyun whole.
Kyungsoo is reassuringly stroking the back of Joonmyun's hand with his thumb when he brightly chirps, “Oh, never mind. There it is.”
Joonmyun checks on his mug for the second time and lo and behold, a tiny silver teaspoon is soaking in it, as if it were there all along.
“Kyungsoo, could you turn me towards you? I want to see your face properly.”
Without hesitation, Kyungsoo kneels down to unlock the brakes of Joonmyun’s wheelchair. “Better?”
“Yes, much better,” Joonmyun tries to return a weak smile, but it’s hard because Kyungsoo is a saint and Joonmyun feels too far fallen from grace. He tries anyway and is rewarded with Kyungsoo’s gentle touch.
“Listen, I’m not going anywhere. So don’t you dare run from me. Ever,” Kyungsoo whispers against Joonmyun’s ear.
“How can I run from you when I’m going to be forever stuck in this chair?” Joonmyun chuckles. He lets himself be enveloped by the other's warmth.
Kyungsoo blinks once, blinks twice. It is not Joonmyun’s face before him. It is not Joonmyun’s scent that intoxicates him. They are not Joonmyun’s fingers which now delicately trace his chin.
Kyungsoo closes his eyes and mouthes an 'I love you' to the shadows.
And Jongin seals his answer with a kiss.
*************
A/N first off, I hope this was even legible because technology seriously freaks me out and LJ confuses me so so so much! (I SWEAR RANDOM LETTERS ARE DISAPPEARING AS I TYPE!)
so i haven't written anything in like 5 years and it totally shows (ew, did I just reveal how old I just might be?). But yea, this is completely un-betaed and mostly written in parts between the hours of 2 and 3 in the morning -_-
If you haven't seen '3-iron', please please please do. it is beyond mesmerizing and it's not disturbingly violent like most of Kim Ki Duk's other films.
and i apologize to any grandpa fans, i didn't mean to paralyze him, but he is a grandpa after all-- and i was sick of him being such a goody two shoes, so i accidentally made him a wifebeater ;_______;
merry belated christmas and happy new year to everyone! if you're reading this, I am grateful. this was my attempt at a happy kaisoo lulz. Please let me know if there are any errors, tense inconsistencies or just badness/goodness in general