[FIC] #017 - Not Gone (forever holding on) 1/3
Title: Not Gone (forever holding on)
Prompt: #30, adapted from Tried to Walk by B1A4
Summary: Kris is a middle-aged high school teacher who's deeply in love with his sixteen-year-old student, Tao.
Rating: NC-17
Warning/s: act of pederasty, huge age gap (20 years), minor character death, underage sex
Length: 18,500 words approximately
Notes: This is dedicated to the mods of KTStyle, for believing in taoris and continuing on despite the grief, and also for giving me more times to finish this. And to the dearest prompter mara_ciro, thank you for the wonderful(-ly heartbreaking) prompt. I hope it pleases you even though this might be a bit or very different from what you had in mind. Hope you enjoy this nonetheless! (Title taken from I Won’t Let You Go by James Morrison)
To the mods and all of us.
Kris didn’t know and didn’t bother to find out why or how this tangle of thorns first created. In fact, he didn’t care about anything at the moment; even if it’s wrong, even if it’s sickeningly twisted and just wrong-he didn’t give a single care, a single fuck, about it.
All he cared right now was the warmth that was embracing his whole body, the addicting moans from the person underneath him, the tightness that drove him crazy and would make him cry in pleasure every time he reaches his peak. It made him grunting, and desperately gripping both legs of the person that were dangling languidly on his shoulders to kiss them; to mark them.
“B-baby,” he panted and he looked down to the person underneath him; the sweet, sweet adolescent boy, his baby, his very innocent and loving student Tao who had just turned 16 yesterday. His adolescent beauty doubled as his thighs quivered around Kris’ neck, his head tilted back and his mouth open in a silent moan. “Are you going to come for me, for gege?”
Tao panted as he nodded and arched his back, his hands gripped Kris’ arm even tighter. “Y-yes,” he said, his lips quivered and it was almost impossible for Kris how it turned him on even more. His thrusts became erratic and the feeling of how he was the only one who could see his baby this way made him shudder and even closer to release.
Holding Tao’s hand and staring deeply at the flushed-and very beautiful-face underneath him, Kris whispered, “You’re beautiful, Tao,” brokenly, hoarsely, and it was getting even harder to breathe with each second passing by. “You’re perfect, so, so perfect for me.”
Tao squirmed-like he always would-and shut his eyes tight, letting out a very sinful strangled moan with a broken ‘ge’ and shot his tasteful, sweet come to his own smooth chest, painting it white, and that done it to Kris. He pushed forward and buried himself deep inside Tao, letting the pleasure took him away and filling Tao with him, him, and him as much as he could. It was much too pleasurable, too sinful, too beautiful and too precious to let go.
(And when he stared at his baby’s eyes, he swore in that moment there were only Tao and him, and Tao was his, his, his, and was so full of him. It was so insane-but he was never sane to begin with.)
Leaning down and pressing soft, fluttery kisses along Tao’s jaw, he smiled to his baby, his love Tao, and brushed the damp dark hair from in front of Tao’s eyes whilst whispering, “I love you, Tao.”
That made Tao smile ever so shyly and looked up to Kris with his dazzling brown eyes-Kris would always die a little every time Tao looked at him like that-and whispered back a sweet “I love you too, Kris ge.”
“I know, baby,” Kris smiled, “I know.”
And later when he came down from his high and lay beside Tao, sweet, young Tao whom he loved dearly and truly, he would be reminded that what he was doing was wrong. Wrong, very wrong, disgusting even, because Tao was only 16, was his student, and he was supposed to teach him and protect him, not love and making love to him like this.
But Kris didn’t care, didn’t want to care, because Tao was in his arms and smiling to him, and that was all he cared about-Tao and how his face would twist in pleasure when he was being filled with Kris, how his breath would hitch when Kris touched him at all the right place and how he would moan louder and louder when Kris was thrusting into him-that was all he thought of every time he had the chance. And it was even quite funny to think about, because even when Tao was in his arms and he was deep inside Tao, loving, filling, and taking him to the peak, he couldn’t stop thinking and missing him.
Kris was sure could never let his baby go, and he didn’t want to. Not now, not ever.
Kris Wu was 35-neither young nor old-and taught English in a prestigious all boys school in Beijing, having worked there since after graduating from a top university in Canada. He graduated with the highest score, and he was scouted by the school’s principal himself and offered a very beneficial career in the school. He jumped right into the opportunity, and never once he regretted his decision to work and stay for almost 14 years.
As a teacher and vice principal of the school, he was adored and loved by his fellow teachers and students, being a figure every boy looked up to. They would always come running to him whenever they had problems, and some students even called him ‘gege’ because of his kind and warm demeanor. But some older teachers who were irritated to see how clingy the students were to Kris would say “it’s because he’s young” and it was partly true. Because instead of going to Mrs. Wong, who supposed to be the counseling teacher at the school, the kids would always go to Kris, stating the reason as “because he understands.”
Simply put, everyone could easily tell how Kris Wu was a brilliant man, understanding, also very charming and friendly.
But just like other humans, he was not perfect.
Growing up as the only son and child of famous Professor Wu and his Canadian wife, Elizabeth Blunt, he was always deemed as and pressured to be his father’s successor. His life was directed and dictated exactly as how his parents wanted it to be, and this made him grow up believing that being a scientist or professor was meant for him. And young Kris wanted nothing more but to make his parents proud. It made him a strong-willed person-and even stubborn at times-with a very few friends.
(Not that he was a freak or anything, but he just never had the time to go out like children his age. He would always study, study, and study. He thought going out to watch movies or play arcade games were a complete waste of time and he would rather study at home with his tutors.)
His parents were very proud for his diligence and would always boast about little Kris to everyone they met in every single chance. They would talk about Kris’ academic achievements, hobbies that weren’t really hobbies, and Kris’ dreams to be just like his father. Yifan could already solve a high school mathematic problem at the age of 10, Yifan this, Yifan that, he was his parents’ absolute pride. And it made Kris happy to see his parents proud of him as if he was the best kid on earth, and he would hold his chin up each time he went out, smiling smugly whilst his parents talked highly of him.
But like the saying goes, good things are always short-lived.
Kris was 12 when he began to feel he was never really seen as a son nor as a person by his father. It was on a Friday, if he recalled correctly, when he was bouncing excitedly around the house, packing up things for the next day outing with his parents. He was going to ask his mother to help him when he overheard his parents’ conversation.
“We need to attend this convention on Monday,” his father sighed, “we have to finish all the remaining projects this very weekend.”
“But we have promised Yifan to take him out to the camping site tomorrow. Can’t Mr. Kim handle the remaining projects?”
“No, unfortunately not,” his father sighed again. “We can always take Yifan out to camping site another time. This convention is really important, Liz.”
“Is it really more important than our son?”
“Liz,” his father sighed exasperatedly. “Our career is at stake. If we unable to finish the project before Monday, we’re done for.” His father paused, and not long after he spoke again. “Yifan could wait. It’s only a camping, Liz.”
Kris felt upset, as he was looking forward to camp with his parents for weeks, and very disappointed at his father for stating that it was only a camping. Moreover, his father said that he could wait, that their careers were more important. Although maybe his father was right, that what he said was true and maybe it was all for him in the end, as a 12 year old who never spent holidays together with his parents, never talked about anything but school, school, school, and was never even asked about his days, the word broke his heart.
And so later that day, when his parents called him to talk about the cancellation of plans, he could only nodded sadly, and once again his father praised him for being so understanding.
“You’re a good kid, Yifan,” his father said, eyes twinkling with proud. “I’m so proud of you.”
Kris was sad, but to see his father proud of him like that made him happy. It always was. “So can we go camping next time, Papa, when you’re not busy?”
“Yes, of course,” his father smiled and patted his head stiffly. “We’ll go next time.”
The problem was, like other kids his age, little naïve Kris would always believe whatever his parents said. He believed what his father told him and he waited and waited, but the next time never came. He never got to camp or spent any time alone with his parents.
He thought it was alright, that all of his friends went through the same thing like he did, and he wasn’t the only one who didn’t eat sweets or celebrate his birthdays. But as introverted as he was, he started having friends, and he saw how different his friends’ lives were from him. He saw how his friends would always travel overseas with his parents at holidays, how his friends would celebrate their birthdays with their family, and even his friends who only had one parent seemed to live happier than he was.
He began wanting to be treated like a normal kid, demanding more and more each day, acting up like a normal preteen he was. He would sulk; he would even go as far as talking back at his parents. It was frustrating his parents and himself too, if he could be honest, but he needed his parents to understand what he wanted. He wanted his parents to see that he was a growing kid, and he wanted things every boy his age wanted.
“I don’t want to go the science convention! I want to go on the field trip with my friends!”
“I want to celebrate my fourteenth birthday! Why am I not allowed throwing a birthday party like my friends?”
“You have promised me we’d go to see grandma this summer, Papa!”
“You only care about your career!”
He grew angrier and angrier each day, but his parents had none of it. So Kris concluded his parents only cared about their ambition, about their dream to have a genius son who would have a doctoral degree by nine-which unfortunately didn’t happen.
It changed the little naïve Kris-both physically and mentally-and he began to fight his parents more and more each day. His father hated it, obviously, and would always give him cold shoulder if Kris started acting up. They rarely talked anymore, not even about school, and it was really hurting Kris. He didn’t mean it to be like this.
After so many failed attempts to reconcile, Kris finally had had enough when his father was angry at him for being not accepted into the best high school in Beijing.
“We’ll only give you the best, Yifan,” his father said at that time, tones menacingly low and eyes fixed on the thick book on his lap. “And it’s only normal if we expect the best from you in return, if you give us the best in return. You’ve demanded a lot of things from us, yet you couldn’t fulfill our wish.”
“I have tried my best,” Kris hissed and anger started bubbling up in his chest. “I did study hard for the test.”
Kris looked away when his father gave him a stern look, and his mother quickly held his hand, stopping whatever his father was about to say. The touch soothed him, as he couldn’t deny he missed his mother. “Yifan,” she said, and he smiled a little at his mother for still couldn’t pronounce his name perfectly. “You know we love you, don’t you? It’s not that we’re mad at you, and we never wanted to pressure you or anything, but-”
“-not accepted into Ming High School is really embarrassing.” His father cut in, teeth gritting from anger. “I can’t fathom why on earth you can’t manage to get into that school, Yifan. It supposed to be easy! Now people are talking about it. The son of Professor Wu-”
Kris didn’t want to hear, because he already knew what is father would say next, so he blocked out his ear and stopped listening completely. It was all bullshit-he learned the foul word just today from his classmate Chen-and he was tired growing up with it. He wanted to break free, and have fun like his friends.
“-so it’s decided that you’ll leave for Canada and live with your grandma, because if you stay here you’ll only embarrass your mother and me.”
“Okay,” Kris answered quickly. “I’ll be happy to leave.”
His father gaped and spluttered, eyes widened in shock but it only made Kris smirk as he rose from his seat, bowing mockingly to his father and walked quietly out of the room. He was turning the doorknob when he heard his father say, “You were a good kid, Yifan.”
Kris gritted his teeth and held the doorknob tight that his knuckles turned white, eyes burning as the words stung him really bad. It was not his wish to become an angry or bad kid, it was his father’s doing! There was absolutely no one else to blame but his father.
“I’m still a good kid, Papa,” he hissed, and it was getting really difficult for him to stay calm. “I’m always good to you.”
“Yifan-”
Angry and very upset with his father, he shut the door as loudly as he could and stormed out of the room. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he was growing up, and he would never stay to listen to his father’s bullshit ever again.
(“Yifan, please! Let Mama talk to you, please, son.”
His mother knocked his door loudly and rapidly, she sounded so worried and panic that it sickened him.
“No! Go away, Mama, leave me alone!”
“Yifan, please-”
Kris threw the crystal globe his father gave him last year angrily, and it hit the wall, breaking to pieces. “Leave me alone!”)
From that day on he avoided his father as best as he could, and he also refused to be called Yifan again. He insisted to be addressed as Kris, because Yifan was his old self, someone his parents were proud of, and he was just no longer his parents’ pride.
Not that he cared about it. He didn’t even want to.
Then finally, finally, after months of silence treatment from his father and even his mother, he moved to Canada and started living with his grandma.
It was quite hard at first, because even though he was half Canadian, he wasn’t used to conversing in English. He understood what was being said to him perfectly, but he had a hard time being understood because of his thick accent. It was embarrassing, but thankfully his new friends were kind and didn’t tease him for speaking the way he was. And it was also because of his grandma’s help that he managed to adapt quickly.
His grandma was very nice, kind and caring, although she could be a bit overbearing at times. Kris couldn’t help but to feel annoyed every time his grandma nagged him for little, trivial things he did. But don’t get him wrong, he loved his grandma so much. As overbearing as she was, she truly cared about Kris and Kris loved her for it. She was there when Kris had hard times adjusting to the new lifestyle and helped him through everything-even with trivial things, such as holding him tight when he had nightmares, the way his own mother never did-and Kris liked to think of her as his mother. Maybe, he thought, if his mother wasn’t married to his father she would be like his grandma.
(“Your mom is as loving and caring as I am, Kris, you just didn’t give her a chance to show it.”
“I did, grandma, but she never took the chance.”
“Well,” his grandma sighed. “I don’t know. But at least you got me now, son.”)
So every time Kris was asked what the good things about his adolescent years were, he would say living with his grandma was one of it. It was a very pleasant memory for Kris and for the first time he felt so grateful that his father had sent him there. Because the other good thing about his adolescent years was when he met his first love-which also happened in Canada, where good things happened, Kris noted-a fifteen-year-old and classmate of his, Kevin Shin; the cool kid who liked to wear oversized tee and baggy pants with tilted snapbacks and listened to hip hop and rap music from his discman.
The boy, Kevin, was always cheerful, bright, and very passionate about music. He had a really nice voice and laughter too, and Kris loved to spend hours listening Kevin’s jokes and babbles on music as if he knew everything.
“I don’t like that new rapper,” Kevin often said, and he would exhale with a very disappointed look. “He’s not doing it with passion, so soulless.”
And then he would talk about his dreams on making a music revolution and everything, and Kris would only nod, because he didn’t really understand, yet he fully supported Kevin to pursue his dreams. Because to be very frank, Kris didn’t care about music or soulless rappers his friend talked about. He just loved to see his friend talk with passion and fire in his eyes, looking so much alive and so…Kevin.
Kris remembered Kevin often asked him if he could be a good musician one day. To this, Kris would always said yes, and he would push and support his friend the best way he could. It was always nice to see Kevin’s smile and ‘thank you’, after all. Besides, it was also with that very same question he realized how much he liked Kevin more than just a friend should.
The memory is so vivid that often when he closes his eyes, he finds himself back to the end of summer 1993, where he sat next to Kevin and listened to his mind, his dreams. They were together and there was nothing but music in between them.
“It’s a shame, don’t you think?” Kevin shook his head and sighed. Leaning back and resting his body onto the big tree, he played the music louder for Kris to hear. “The beat is actually very good and so does the lyrics, but the newbie just had to rap so off beat like that and ruin it all.”
“Yeah, it’s a pity.” Kris nodded, listening intently to the music playing yet he didn’t catch anything wrong. “He sounds so boring and flat.”
Kevin laughed, and his laughter resonated along with the chilling breeze of late August. “He is, because he’s not doing it right.”
“He actually has a talent, though. I think.”
“Yeah, he is,” Kevin nodded and changed the disc to something else-Kris noticed he often played this one. “Because, you see, actually everyone can sing or rap, because it is easy. But to be a good one you have to feel the music seeping through your bones, lighting you up from inside, until your heart beating the same beat. Only when you have succeeded that you’re worthy to be called a good rapper, or singer.”
“Wow,” Kris breathed, and he could care less if he looked dumb with his mouth hang open. “That’s really cool, Kev.”
Kevin was taken aback, but then he laughed loudly, clutching his stomach and patted Kris’ back. “Thanks, man,” he said, still laughing. “You’re pretty cool yourself.”
Kris’ heart fluttered and he smiled sheepishly, didn’t completely understand why he felt so happy to be considered pretty cool by Kevin. It was not much, he knew, even so trivial, but whatever Kevin did always succeeded to make him happy.
“Thanks,” Kris mumbled, looking away to hide his flushed face. “I guess.”
Kevin nodded and they rested under the tree in a comfortable silence, along with the upbeat song he played from the discman. Kevin would bob his head up and down, and sang out the lyrics along with the rapper. And Kris found himself following his friend not long after, almost didn’t care if he looked foolish, bobbing his head up and down like he understood a thing. He didn’t even understand most of the lyrics, all he knew were the lyrics were very explicit. But he didn’t care; at least it was fun and freeing.
“Kris,” Kevin called sometimes later, but he sounded so small-maybe it was caused by the loud music blasting from the earphone, Kris concluded. “Do you think I’ll be a good musician?”
“Of course,” Kris answered in a beat, no hesitancy and with a sheepish smile. “You’ll be a great musician, Kev. I can already see your name on billboards.”
“Thanks,” Kevin chuckled and hummed serenely, tilting his head to look directly at Kris. “You know, I will never forget you, Kris.”
“You better,” Kris laughed and scooted closer to Kevin, liking the warmth that was creeping up to his chest. “I’ll kick your ass if you dare to forget me.”
Kevin laughed, but it soon died out and he looked dazed. Crossing his arms and letting his hair fell to his face, Kevin stared at the sky as the setting sunlight shone at him, and Kris couldn’t understand why his heart was beating loudly.
“Will you still be my friend if I tell you I’m different?”
Kris shook his head, quickly gathering his mind back together. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Kevin sighed and smiled as he pressed the stop button on his discman. It confused Kris, especially when he started gathering his things, but Kris noticed his hands were shaking slightly. “I just-I hope you’ll always be my friend, you know. You’re really nice.”
“Of course I will,” Kris stared at his friend confusedly, didn’t get what he was trying to say at all. “You can tell me whatever, you know.”
“I know, thanks man,” Kevin smiled as he stood up, picking up his backpack and wear his snapbacks-slightly tilted to the left like always. “Thanks for listening to my crap as well. See you tomorrow, Kris.”
Kris stood up abruptly, and almost tripped on his shoelace. “Kev, wait,” he called, and Kevin stopped walking, one hand tugging nervously on his tee. “I hope you know whatever you’re not telling me won’t change my judgment about you.”
“I know,” Kevin said after some time, grinning, and shoved his earphone to his pants. “Thanks a lot, man.”
Kevin was walking away, and somehow it made Kris felt uneasy, his stomach twisting painfully. He didn’t want his friend to leave just yet.
“Kev, w-wait, wait,” Kris bit his lip, a bit ashamed to sounded so desperate to made his friend stay. “Uh, what’s that song you always play?”
“It’s 2Pac,” Kevin said, handing him the discman. “I Get Around. Listen to the whole album, it’s great.”
Kevin grinned and made a sign with his left hand-Kris didn’t understand what the sign meant-and he walked away once again. This time Kris didn’t feel uneasy, and even though his stomach was still fluttering and felt weird, it wasn’t painful anymore. He even almost forgot that he was staring at Kevin’s back until Kevin looked back, his oversized tee and baggy pants looked awkward on his small body with each step he took. But still, Kris thought it looked good on him. And maybe it would look good on him too, since his body was awkwardly bigger and taller than Kevin. So he promised to wear a same thing like Kevin tomorrow, although he knew his grandma would disapprove.
Smiling and holding onto the discman tight, Kris packed up his things as well and walked home, completely ignoring the fact that it was already dark and his grandma would surely scold him for going home so late. But at least, he thought, he got to spend a very good time with Kevin. Talking with Kevin was always fun, and he felt so happy that Kevin would always look for him instead of someone else-cooler-to talk to. It made him feel wanted and important; and it was a really nice feeling.
Nothing, not even his grandma’s nagging, could possibly bring him down today.
(“I hope you know it’s already dark and I don’t appreciate you going home this late at all, young man. Wash up quickly and join me for dinner.”
“Alrighty, grandma!”
Kris giggled and ran upstairs, leaving his grandma baffled in the living room, wondering what the hell happened to his grandson.)
And so the following days were spent with Kevin, Kevin, and Kevin.
They went to skateboard park-even though Kris only watched from afar because he couldn’t play skateboard-music stores, candy shop, and even skating rink on Friday nights. They also had sleepover sometimes, playing Nintendo until really late at night and they often went out until past their curfews. And although he’d be grounded for weeks (his grandma even once said until he’s 50), Kris never once minded as he could easily sneak out the next day.
He was being very insufferable, he admitted, whenever he looked back to his adolescent years. He kind of felt bad for his grandma for all the troubles he caused her, but very thankful at the same time, because she put up a lot with his acts. But he was just a teenager; he couldn’t help it, and it was just unfortunate that he was a very mischievous and rebellious one. In his defense though, it was because he never felt so free like he was back then with Kevin. And of course, he blamed his father for making him act like a wild monkey being let out of its cage.
The times spent with Kevin were what Kris considered as great moments and memories, especially this particular one day in October when he was having a sleepover at Kevin’s. They had been playing games all night, and obviously violating Kevin’s house rules-but his parents weren’t home so it’s ok-and slept until noon.
Kris remembered he was still half asleep when he felt a hand caressing his face down to his lips, and he couldn’t help but shiver as it brushed his chapped lips. The hand wasn’t soft-it was calloused, even-but Kris liked it.
“Kris,” Kevin whispered from beside him, and Kris’ heartbeat quickened. “I hope you’ll keep your promise to stay friends with me after this.”
Kris didn’t say anything and kept his eyes closed, giving Kevin the chance to continue.
“I-” Kevin paused, and his hand trembled on Kris’ face. “I like boys, Kris. I like, like boys. I like boys like I supposed to like girls. And I like you.”
Kris’ eyes shot open, shocked to hear the confession, but the next second he saw that Kevin’s eyes were brimming with tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and his voice cracked, drawing back his hand slowly. “It’s okay if you want to leave now; I know I’m a freak.”
Kevin was getting up from the bed, crying silently, but Kris couldn’t find himself to say anything. “I’ll prepare breakfast for you, and then you’re free to leave. You can pack your stuff while I cook.”
Kris gulped and licked his lips, wanted to say something, anything, to stop Kevin from walking out. But it felt as if he was paralyzed, he couldn’t say anything or even move his body. And even when Kevin was already out of the room, he still wasn’t moving. His body felt numb, and his mind wasn’t working properly both because he just woke up and of the confession Kevin blurted out earlier.
He didn’t know what to say or do, he was shocked, but it was for a whole different reason than whatever Kevin might think of. He wasn’t disgusted with Kevin-that was impossible-he just never thought Kevin would like him the way he did.
Wait, Kevin liked him?
Right, Kevin liked him.
But there he was, being a giant oaf he was instead of confessing back. So, so stupid.
Kris rushed downstairs as soon as his brain began to work and almost tripped on his own feet thrice before he found Kevin sitting quietly in the kitchen.
“Kevin,” he shouted and shocked himself (so embarrassing) and hastily stepped in front of Kevin. “Kevin,” he said it softly this time, and he panted from running like a madman. “You like me.”
Kevin frowned and Kris shook his head. “I mean, you like me, me…Kris.” that sounds the same, “You like me, wow. I mean, you like me! And I’ve said it four times, but…you like me!”
Kris was beaming but Kevin’s frown deepened. He looked away and bit his lip. “Kris, please, I know it’s disgusting you that I like you like a boy likes a girl…but please stop insulting me like that.”
“What,” Kris shook his head and daringly held Kevin’s slender shoulder. “No, no, you like me, and that’s a good thing! Because I also like you the way you like me, like a boy likes a girl…except for you’re not a girl. But that’s okay, I don’t like girls anyway. Girls remind me of grandma. And girls-”
“You like, like me?”
Kris furrowed his brows because that was a weird question but he nodded anyway. “Yeah, I like, like you.”
Kevin looked at him and his lips trembled, and the next thing Kris knew he was crying. It was so confusing, because weren’t they supposed to be happy and perhaps kiss or cuddle? But maybe it was only for boys and girls-oh, whatever.
“Kev, why are you crying?”
Kevin was still crying and at this point Kris was panicking, so he tried to sooth his friend the best that he could, frantically giving him a cone of ice cream from the freezer when they just woke up. But maybe it wasn’t a good idea because Kevin cried even louder; Kris began to wonder if he was really Kevin the cool guy who liked hip hop music.
“You’re really stupid,” Kevin said finally, and that wasn’t really what Kris wanted to hear, but he continued before got disrupted. “And you like me, the way I like you.”
If Kris was confused, he was really confused now. “Yeah…?”
His confusion wasn’t really answered as Kevin suddenly rose from his seat and pulled him down for a kiss. It was wet, and it was kind of disgusting because of their morning breaths, but Kris could care less. Kevin was kissing him, and he was kissing back, and that was all that mattered.
“I like you,” Kevin mumbled to his lips, “and you like me.”
Kris hummed a ‘yes’ and they continued kissing, gradually getting slower. And even though the kiss was wet and sloppy-nothing like Kris had expected-it still was nice. It warmed his body, made his heart beating loudly from happiness, or maybe love, he didn’t know, and even the chapped lips of Kevin felt perfect.
Or maybe he was just so happy to kiss Kevin, the cool guy, his first love.
They pulled away sometimes after, blushing furiously and their lips were both wet. Kris was so happy he could die.
“Your breath smells like shit.”
“Well you too, crybaby.”
“Thanks.”
Kris chuckled and pulled Kevin for a hug. “So, are we, like, boyfriends now?”
“Maybe,” Kevin laughed when Kris tensed in his arms. “Of course we are, idiot.”
“Cool.”
They kissed again and again and again, completely forgetting the initial plan to eat breakfast and pretty much everything else.
But, again, maybe good things were just not meant for him. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to be happy.
Because one day in November, Kevin Shin was shot to dead by a robber in a minimarket-Kris still thinks it was so ironic and sad-as he tried to help the owner.
Kris always knew Kevin was kind and helping, but he would never think Kevin would be that brave and reckless to throw his body in front of the robber as the man fired his gun. He was shot right at his heart and died in location, the coke and chips he intended to buy for Kris and he lay covered with blood next to him.
(“I’ll buy the snacks today; just wait for me, okay? Oh, and don’t forget to set the most comfortable seat for me. I’d like to watch the new episode of Beavis and Butt-Head in the most pleasant way, thanks.”
“Just buy the snacks and come here quick, butt-head.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll be there soon.”)
(“Kris,” his grandma called, her voice wavered and she looked really upset. “Grandma has something to tell you.”
“Yeah,” Kris was anxious, because his grandma only called herself ‘grandma’ when she was angry or something really bad happened. “What is it, grand?”
“Kevin,” she breathed, and soon tears started trickling down on her face. “He was shot on his way here.”
…You’ll be here soon, will you, Kevin?)
Kris didn’t know how to react when he was first informed about Kevin, and he didn’t exactly remember what he did either. He only remembered crying his eyes out whilst holding on tight to Kevin’s bloodied snapback when he saw Kevin lying lifeless on the steel bed later on that day, looking so peaceful as if he was merely sleeping, except for he wasn’t.
He remembered regretting not to buy the snacks the day before-as he was the one who usually bought snacks and coke for them-because he was sick. He wondered (and sometimes still wondering, when he has nothing to do) if he had bought the snacks the day before, would have things been different.
And Kris didn’t know if it was just his luck or his bad luck, or if it would be better if he died instead of Kevin. He just didn’t and still doesn’t understand why it had to be on that exact day and time, when Kevin was buying snacks, did the robber carry out his plan. Kevin was only fifteen, was still so young and beautiful, and deserved a lifetime to be the person he dreamed to be.
It was just so soon, too soon.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3
Prompt: #30, adapted from Tried to Walk by B1A4
Summary: Kris is a middle-aged high school teacher who's deeply in love with his sixteen-year-old student, Tao.
Rating: NC-17
Warning/s: act of pederasty, huge age gap (20 years), minor character death, underage sex
Length: 18,500 words approximately
Notes: This is dedicated to the mods of KTStyle, for believing in taoris and continuing on despite the grief, and also for giving me more times to finish this. And to the dearest prompter mara_ciro, thank you for the wonderful(-ly heartbreaking) prompt. I hope it pleases you even though this might be a bit or very different from what you had in mind. Hope you enjoy this nonetheless! (Title taken from I Won’t Let You Go by James Morrison)
To the mods and all of us.
Kris didn’t know and didn’t bother to find out why or how this tangle of thorns first created. In fact, he didn’t care about anything at the moment; even if it’s wrong, even if it’s sickeningly twisted and just wrong-he didn’t give a single care, a single fuck, about it.
All he cared right now was the warmth that was embracing his whole body, the addicting moans from the person underneath him, the tightness that drove him crazy and would make him cry in pleasure every time he reaches his peak. It made him grunting, and desperately gripping both legs of the person that were dangling languidly on his shoulders to kiss them; to mark them.
“B-baby,” he panted and he looked down to the person underneath him; the sweet, sweet adolescent boy, his baby, his very innocent and loving student Tao who had just turned 16 yesterday. His adolescent beauty doubled as his thighs quivered around Kris’ neck, his head tilted back and his mouth open in a silent moan. “Are you going to come for me, for gege?”
Tao panted as he nodded and arched his back, his hands gripped Kris’ arm even tighter. “Y-yes,” he said, his lips quivered and it was almost impossible for Kris how it turned him on even more. His thrusts became erratic and the feeling of how he was the only one who could see his baby this way made him shudder and even closer to release.
Holding Tao’s hand and staring deeply at the flushed-and very beautiful-face underneath him, Kris whispered, “You’re beautiful, Tao,” brokenly, hoarsely, and it was getting even harder to breathe with each second passing by. “You’re perfect, so, so perfect for me.”
Tao squirmed-like he always would-and shut his eyes tight, letting out a very sinful strangled moan with a broken ‘ge’ and shot his tasteful, sweet come to his own smooth chest, painting it white, and that done it to Kris. He pushed forward and buried himself deep inside Tao, letting the pleasure took him away and filling Tao with him, him, and him as much as he could. It was much too pleasurable, too sinful, too beautiful and too precious to let go.
(And when he stared at his baby’s eyes, he swore in that moment there were only Tao and him, and Tao was his, his, his, and was so full of him. It was so insane-but he was never sane to begin with.)
Leaning down and pressing soft, fluttery kisses along Tao’s jaw, he smiled to his baby, his love Tao, and brushed the damp dark hair from in front of Tao’s eyes whilst whispering, “I love you, Tao.”
That made Tao smile ever so shyly and looked up to Kris with his dazzling brown eyes-Kris would always die a little every time Tao looked at him like that-and whispered back a sweet “I love you too, Kris ge.”
“I know, baby,” Kris smiled, “I know.”
And later when he came down from his high and lay beside Tao, sweet, young Tao whom he loved dearly and truly, he would be reminded that what he was doing was wrong. Wrong, very wrong, disgusting even, because Tao was only 16, was his student, and he was supposed to teach him and protect him, not love and making love to him like this.
But Kris didn’t care, didn’t want to care, because Tao was in his arms and smiling to him, and that was all he cared about-Tao and how his face would twist in pleasure when he was being filled with Kris, how his breath would hitch when Kris touched him at all the right place and how he would moan louder and louder when Kris was thrusting into him-that was all he thought of every time he had the chance. And it was even quite funny to think about, because even when Tao was in his arms and he was deep inside Tao, loving, filling, and taking him to the peak, he couldn’t stop thinking and missing him.
Kris was sure could never let his baby go, and he didn’t want to. Not now, not ever.
Kris Wu was 35-neither young nor old-and taught English in a prestigious all boys school in Beijing, having worked there since after graduating from a top university in Canada. He graduated with the highest score, and he was scouted by the school’s principal himself and offered a very beneficial career in the school. He jumped right into the opportunity, and never once he regretted his decision to work and stay for almost 14 years.
As a teacher and vice principal of the school, he was adored and loved by his fellow teachers and students, being a figure every boy looked up to. They would always come running to him whenever they had problems, and some students even called him ‘gege’ because of his kind and warm demeanor. But some older teachers who were irritated to see how clingy the students were to Kris would say “it’s because he’s young” and it was partly true. Because instead of going to Mrs. Wong, who supposed to be the counseling teacher at the school, the kids would always go to Kris, stating the reason as “because he understands.”
Simply put, everyone could easily tell how Kris Wu was a brilliant man, understanding, also very charming and friendly.
But just like other humans, he was not perfect.
Growing up as the only son and child of famous Professor Wu and his Canadian wife, Elizabeth Blunt, he was always deemed as and pressured to be his father’s successor. His life was directed and dictated exactly as how his parents wanted it to be, and this made him grow up believing that being a scientist or professor was meant for him. And young Kris wanted nothing more but to make his parents proud. It made him a strong-willed person-and even stubborn at times-with a very few friends.
(Not that he was a freak or anything, but he just never had the time to go out like children his age. He would always study, study, and study. He thought going out to watch movies or play arcade games were a complete waste of time and he would rather study at home with his tutors.)
His parents were very proud for his diligence and would always boast about little Kris to everyone they met in every single chance. They would talk about Kris’ academic achievements, hobbies that weren’t really hobbies, and Kris’ dreams to be just like his father. Yifan could already solve a high school mathematic problem at the age of 10, Yifan this, Yifan that, he was his parents’ absolute pride. And it made Kris happy to see his parents proud of him as if he was the best kid on earth, and he would hold his chin up each time he went out, smiling smugly whilst his parents talked highly of him.
But like the saying goes, good things are always short-lived.
Kris was 12 when he began to feel he was never really seen as a son nor as a person by his father. It was on a Friday, if he recalled correctly, when he was bouncing excitedly around the house, packing up things for the next day outing with his parents. He was going to ask his mother to help him when he overheard his parents’ conversation.
“We need to attend this convention on Monday,” his father sighed, “we have to finish all the remaining projects this very weekend.”
“But we have promised Yifan to take him out to the camping site tomorrow. Can’t Mr. Kim handle the remaining projects?”
“No, unfortunately not,” his father sighed again. “We can always take Yifan out to camping site another time. This convention is really important, Liz.”
“Is it really more important than our son?”
“Liz,” his father sighed exasperatedly. “Our career is at stake. If we unable to finish the project before Monday, we’re done for.” His father paused, and not long after he spoke again. “Yifan could wait. It’s only a camping, Liz.”
Kris felt upset, as he was looking forward to camp with his parents for weeks, and very disappointed at his father for stating that it was only a camping. Moreover, his father said that he could wait, that their careers were more important. Although maybe his father was right, that what he said was true and maybe it was all for him in the end, as a 12 year old who never spent holidays together with his parents, never talked about anything but school, school, school, and was never even asked about his days, the word broke his heart.
And so later that day, when his parents called him to talk about the cancellation of plans, he could only nodded sadly, and once again his father praised him for being so understanding.
“You’re a good kid, Yifan,” his father said, eyes twinkling with proud. “I’m so proud of you.”
Kris was sad, but to see his father proud of him like that made him happy. It always was. “So can we go camping next time, Papa, when you’re not busy?”
“Yes, of course,” his father smiled and patted his head stiffly. “We’ll go next time.”
The problem was, like other kids his age, little naïve Kris would always believe whatever his parents said. He believed what his father told him and he waited and waited, but the next time never came. He never got to camp or spent any time alone with his parents.
He thought it was alright, that all of his friends went through the same thing like he did, and he wasn’t the only one who didn’t eat sweets or celebrate his birthdays. But as introverted as he was, he started having friends, and he saw how different his friends’ lives were from him. He saw how his friends would always travel overseas with his parents at holidays, how his friends would celebrate their birthdays with their family, and even his friends who only had one parent seemed to live happier than he was.
He began wanting to be treated like a normal kid, demanding more and more each day, acting up like a normal preteen he was. He would sulk; he would even go as far as talking back at his parents. It was frustrating his parents and himself too, if he could be honest, but he needed his parents to understand what he wanted. He wanted his parents to see that he was a growing kid, and he wanted things every boy his age wanted.
“I don’t want to go the science convention! I want to go on the field trip with my friends!”
“I want to celebrate my fourteenth birthday! Why am I not allowed throwing a birthday party like my friends?”
“You have promised me we’d go to see grandma this summer, Papa!”
“You only care about your career!”
He grew angrier and angrier each day, but his parents had none of it. So Kris concluded his parents only cared about their ambition, about their dream to have a genius son who would have a doctoral degree by nine-which unfortunately didn’t happen.
It changed the little naïve Kris-both physically and mentally-and he began to fight his parents more and more each day. His father hated it, obviously, and would always give him cold shoulder if Kris started acting up. They rarely talked anymore, not even about school, and it was really hurting Kris. He didn’t mean it to be like this.
After so many failed attempts to reconcile, Kris finally had had enough when his father was angry at him for being not accepted into the best high school in Beijing.
“We’ll only give you the best, Yifan,” his father said at that time, tones menacingly low and eyes fixed on the thick book on his lap. “And it’s only normal if we expect the best from you in return, if you give us the best in return. You’ve demanded a lot of things from us, yet you couldn’t fulfill our wish.”
“I have tried my best,” Kris hissed and anger started bubbling up in his chest. “I did study hard for the test.”
Kris looked away when his father gave him a stern look, and his mother quickly held his hand, stopping whatever his father was about to say. The touch soothed him, as he couldn’t deny he missed his mother. “Yifan,” she said, and he smiled a little at his mother for still couldn’t pronounce his name perfectly. “You know we love you, don’t you? It’s not that we’re mad at you, and we never wanted to pressure you or anything, but-”
“-not accepted into Ming High School is really embarrassing.” His father cut in, teeth gritting from anger. “I can’t fathom why on earth you can’t manage to get into that school, Yifan. It supposed to be easy! Now people are talking about it. The son of Professor Wu-”
Kris didn’t want to hear, because he already knew what is father would say next, so he blocked out his ear and stopped listening completely. It was all bullshit-he learned the foul word just today from his classmate Chen-and he was tired growing up with it. He wanted to break free, and have fun like his friends.
“-so it’s decided that you’ll leave for Canada and live with your grandma, because if you stay here you’ll only embarrass your mother and me.”
“Okay,” Kris answered quickly. “I’ll be happy to leave.”
His father gaped and spluttered, eyes widened in shock but it only made Kris smirk as he rose from his seat, bowing mockingly to his father and walked quietly out of the room. He was turning the doorknob when he heard his father say, “You were a good kid, Yifan.”
Kris gritted his teeth and held the doorknob tight that his knuckles turned white, eyes burning as the words stung him really bad. It was not his wish to become an angry or bad kid, it was his father’s doing! There was absolutely no one else to blame but his father.
“I’m still a good kid, Papa,” he hissed, and it was getting really difficult for him to stay calm. “I’m always good to you.”
“Yifan-”
Angry and very upset with his father, he shut the door as loudly as he could and stormed out of the room. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he was growing up, and he would never stay to listen to his father’s bullshit ever again.
(“Yifan, please! Let Mama talk to you, please, son.”
His mother knocked his door loudly and rapidly, she sounded so worried and panic that it sickened him.
“No! Go away, Mama, leave me alone!”
“Yifan, please-”
Kris threw the crystal globe his father gave him last year angrily, and it hit the wall, breaking to pieces. “Leave me alone!”)
From that day on he avoided his father as best as he could, and he also refused to be called Yifan again. He insisted to be addressed as Kris, because Yifan was his old self, someone his parents were proud of, and he was just no longer his parents’ pride.
Not that he cared about it. He didn’t even want to.
Then finally, finally, after months of silence treatment from his father and even his mother, he moved to Canada and started living with his grandma.
It was quite hard at first, because even though he was half Canadian, he wasn’t used to conversing in English. He understood what was being said to him perfectly, but he had a hard time being understood because of his thick accent. It was embarrassing, but thankfully his new friends were kind and didn’t tease him for speaking the way he was. And it was also because of his grandma’s help that he managed to adapt quickly.
His grandma was very nice, kind and caring, although she could be a bit overbearing at times. Kris couldn’t help but to feel annoyed every time his grandma nagged him for little, trivial things he did. But don’t get him wrong, he loved his grandma so much. As overbearing as she was, she truly cared about Kris and Kris loved her for it. She was there when Kris had hard times adjusting to the new lifestyle and helped him through everything-even with trivial things, such as holding him tight when he had nightmares, the way his own mother never did-and Kris liked to think of her as his mother. Maybe, he thought, if his mother wasn’t married to his father she would be like his grandma.
(“Your mom is as loving and caring as I am, Kris, you just didn’t give her a chance to show it.”
“I did, grandma, but she never took the chance.”
“Well,” his grandma sighed. “I don’t know. But at least you got me now, son.”)
So every time Kris was asked what the good things about his adolescent years were, he would say living with his grandma was one of it. It was a very pleasant memory for Kris and for the first time he felt so grateful that his father had sent him there. Because the other good thing about his adolescent years was when he met his first love-which also happened in Canada, where good things happened, Kris noted-a fifteen-year-old and classmate of his, Kevin Shin; the cool kid who liked to wear oversized tee and baggy pants with tilted snapbacks and listened to hip hop and rap music from his discman.
The boy, Kevin, was always cheerful, bright, and very passionate about music. He had a really nice voice and laughter too, and Kris loved to spend hours listening Kevin’s jokes and babbles on music as if he knew everything.
“I don’t like that new rapper,” Kevin often said, and he would exhale with a very disappointed look. “He’s not doing it with passion, so soulless.”
And then he would talk about his dreams on making a music revolution and everything, and Kris would only nod, because he didn’t really understand, yet he fully supported Kevin to pursue his dreams. Because to be very frank, Kris didn’t care about music or soulless rappers his friend talked about. He just loved to see his friend talk with passion and fire in his eyes, looking so much alive and so…Kevin.
Kris remembered Kevin often asked him if he could be a good musician one day. To this, Kris would always said yes, and he would push and support his friend the best way he could. It was always nice to see Kevin’s smile and ‘thank you’, after all. Besides, it was also with that very same question he realized how much he liked Kevin more than just a friend should.
The memory is so vivid that often when he closes his eyes, he finds himself back to the end of summer 1993, where he sat next to Kevin and listened to his mind, his dreams. They were together and there was nothing but music in between them.
“It’s a shame, don’t you think?” Kevin shook his head and sighed. Leaning back and resting his body onto the big tree, he played the music louder for Kris to hear. “The beat is actually very good and so does the lyrics, but the newbie just had to rap so off beat like that and ruin it all.”
“Yeah, it’s a pity.” Kris nodded, listening intently to the music playing yet he didn’t catch anything wrong. “He sounds so boring and flat.”
Kevin laughed, and his laughter resonated along with the chilling breeze of late August. “He is, because he’s not doing it right.”
“He actually has a talent, though. I think.”
“Yeah, he is,” Kevin nodded and changed the disc to something else-Kris noticed he often played this one. “Because, you see, actually everyone can sing or rap, because it is easy. But to be a good one you have to feel the music seeping through your bones, lighting you up from inside, until your heart beating the same beat. Only when you have succeeded that you’re worthy to be called a good rapper, or singer.”
“Wow,” Kris breathed, and he could care less if he looked dumb with his mouth hang open. “That’s really cool, Kev.”
Kevin was taken aback, but then he laughed loudly, clutching his stomach and patted Kris’ back. “Thanks, man,” he said, still laughing. “You’re pretty cool yourself.”
Kris’ heart fluttered and he smiled sheepishly, didn’t completely understand why he felt so happy to be considered pretty cool by Kevin. It was not much, he knew, even so trivial, but whatever Kevin did always succeeded to make him happy.
“Thanks,” Kris mumbled, looking away to hide his flushed face. “I guess.”
Kevin nodded and they rested under the tree in a comfortable silence, along with the upbeat song he played from the discman. Kevin would bob his head up and down, and sang out the lyrics along with the rapper. And Kris found himself following his friend not long after, almost didn’t care if he looked foolish, bobbing his head up and down like he understood a thing. He didn’t even understand most of the lyrics, all he knew were the lyrics were very explicit. But he didn’t care; at least it was fun and freeing.
“Kris,” Kevin called sometimes later, but he sounded so small-maybe it was caused by the loud music blasting from the earphone, Kris concluded. “Do you think I’ll be a good musician?”
“Of course,” Kris answered in a beat, no hesitancy and with a sheepish smile. “You’ll be a great musician, Kev. I can already see your name on billboards.”
“Thanks,” Kevin chuckled and hummed serenely, tilting his head to look directly at Kris. “You know, I will never forget you, Kris.”
“You better,” Kris laughed and scooted closer to Kevin, liking the warmth that was creeping up to his chest. “I’ll kick your ass if you dare to forget me.”
Kevin laughed, but it soon died out and he looked dazed. Crossing his arms and letting his hair fell to his face, Kevin stared at the sky as the setting sunlight shone at him, and Kris couldn’t understand why his heart was beating loudly.
“Will you still be my friend if I tell you I’m different?”
Kris shook his head, quickly gathering his mind back together. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Kevin sighed and smiled as he pressed the stop button on his discman. It confused Kris, especially when he started gathering his things, but Kris noticed his hands were shaking slightly. “I just-I hope you’ll always be my friend, you know. You’re really nice.”
“Of course I will,” Kris stared at his friend confusedly, didn’t get what he was trying to say at all. “You can tell me whatever, you know.”
“I know, thanks man,” Kevin smiled as he stood up, picking up his backpack and wear his snapbacks-slightly tilted to the left like always. “Thanks for listening to my crap as well. See you tomorrow, Kris.”
Kris stood up abruptly, and almost tripped on his shoelace. “Kev, wait,” he called, and Kevin stopped walking, one hand tugging nervously on his tee. “I hope you know whatever you’re not telling me won’t change my judgment about you.”
“I know,” Kevin said after some time, grinning, and shoved his earphone to his pants. “Thanks a lot, man.”
Kevin was walking away, and somehow it made Kris felt uneasy, his stomach twisting painfully. He didn’t want his friend to leave just yet.
“Kev, w-wait, wait,” Kris bit his lip, a bit ashamed to sounded so desperate to made his friend stay. “Uh, what’s that song you always play?”
“It’s 2Pac,” Kevin said, handing him the discman. “I Get Around. Listen to the whole album, it’s great.”
Kevin grinned and made a sign with his left hand-Kris didn’t understand what the sign meant-and he walked away once again. This time Kris didn’t feel uneasy, and even though his stomach was still fluttering and felt weird, it wasn’t painful anymore. He even almost forgot that he was staring at Kevin’s back until Kevin looked back, his oversized tee and baggy pants looked awkward on his small body with each step he took. But still, Kris thought it looked good on him. And maybe it would look good on him too, since his body was awkwardly bigger and taller than Kevin. So he promised to wear a same thing like Kevin tomorrow, although he knew his grandma would disapprove.
Smiling and holding onto the discman tight, Kris packed up his things as well and walked home, completely ignoring the fact that it was already dark and his grandma would surely scold him for going home so late. But at least, he thought, he got to spend a very good time with Kevin. Talking with Kevin was always fun, and he felt so happy that Kevin would always look for him instead of someone else-cooler-to talk to. It made him feel wanted and important; and it was a really nice feeling.
Nothing, not even his grandma’s nagging, could possibly bring him down today.
(“I hope you know it’s already dark and I don’t appreciate you going home this late at all, young man. Wash up quickly and join me for dinner.”
“Alrighty, grandma!”
Kris giggled and ran upstairs, leaving his grandma baffled in the living room, wondering what the hell happened to his grandson.)
And so the following days were spent with Kevin, Kevin, and Kevin.
They went to skateboard park-even though Kris only watched from afar because he couldn’t play skateboard-music stores, candy shop, and even skating rink on Friday nights. They also had sleepover sometimes, playing Nintendo until really late at night and they often went out until past their curfews. And although he’d be grounded for weeks (his grandma even once said until he’s 50), Kris never once minded as he could easily sneak out the next day.
He was being very insufferable, he admitted, whenever he looked back to his adolescent years. He kind of felt bad for his grandma for all the troubles he caused her, but very thankful at the same time, because she put up a lot with his acts. But he was just a teenager; he couldn’t help it, and it was just unfortunate that he was a very mischievous and rebellious one. In his defense though, it was because he never felt so free like he was back then with Kevin. And of course, he blamed his father for making him act like a wild monkey being let out of its cage.
The times spent with Kevin were what Kris considered as great moments and memories, especially this particular one day in October when he was having a sleepover at Kevin’s. They had been playing games all night, and obviously violating Kevin’s house rules-but his parents weren’t home so it’s ok-and slept until noon.
Kris remembered he was still half asleep when he felt a hand caressing his face down to his lips, and he couldn’t help but shiver as it brushed his chapped lips. The hand wasn’t soft-it was calloused, even-but Kris liked it.
“Kris,” Kevin whispered from beside him, and Kris’ heartbeat quickened. “I hope you’ll keep your promise to stay friends with me after this.”
Kris didn’t say anything and kept his eyes closed, giving Kevin the chance to continue.
“I-” Kevin paused, and his hand trembled on Kris’ face. “I like boys, Kris. I like, like boys. I like boys like I supposed to like girls. And I like you.”
Kris’ eyes shot open, shocked to hear the confession, but the next second he saw that Kevin’s eyes were brimming with tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and his voice cracked, drawing back his hand slowly. “It’s okay if you want to leave now; I know I’m a freak.”
Kevin was getting up from the bed, crying silently, but Kris couldn’t find himself to say anything. “I’ll prepare breakfast for you, and then you’re free to leave. You can pack your stuff while I cook.”
Kris gulped and licked his lips, wanted to say something, anything, to stop Kevin from walking out. But it felt as if he was paralyzed, he couldn’t say anything or even move his body. And even when Kevin was already out of the room, he still wasn’t moving. His body felt numb, and his mind wasn’t working properly both because he just woke up and of the confession Kevin blurted out earlier.
He didn’t know what to say or do, he was shocked, but it was for a whole different reason than whatever Kevin might think of. He wasn’t disgusted with Kevin-that was impossible-he just never thought Kevin would like him the way he did.
Wait, Kevin liked him?
Right, Kevin liked him.
But there he was, being a giant oaf he was instead of confessing back. So, so stupid.
Kris rushed downstairs as soon as his brain began to work and almost tripped on his own feet thrice before he found Kevin sitting quietly in the kitchen.
“Kevin,” he shouted and shocked himself (so embarrassing) and hastily stepped in front of Kevin. “Kevin,” he said it softly this time, and he panted from running like a madman. “You like me.”
Kevin frowned and Kris shook his head. “I mean, you like me, me…Kris.” that sounds the same, “You like me, wow. I mean, you like me! And I’ve said it four times, but…you like me!”
Kris was beaming but Kevin’s frown deepened. He looked away and bit his lip. “Kris, please, I know it’s disgusting you that I like you like a boy likes a girl…but please stop insulting me like that.”
“What,” Kris shook his head and daringly held Kevin’s slender shoulder. “No, no, you like me, and that’s a good thing! Because I also like you the way you like me, like a boy likes a girl…except for you’re not a girl. But that’s okay, I don’t like girls anyway. Girls remind me of grandma. And girls-”
“You like, like me?”
Kris furrowed his brows because that was a weird question but he nodded anyway. “Yeah, I like, like you.”
Kevin looked at him and his lips trembled, and the next thing Kris knew he was crying. It was so confusing, because weren’t they supposed to be happy and perhaps kiss or cuddle? But maybe it was only for boys and girls-oh, whatever.
“Kev, why are you crying?”
Kevin was still crying and at this point Kris was panicking, so he tried to sooth his friend the best that he could, frantically giving him a cone of ice cream from the freezer when they just woke up. But maybe it wasn’t a good idea because Kevin cried even louder; Kris began to wonder if he was really Kevin the cool guy who liked hip hop music.
“You’re really stupid,” Kevin said finally, and that wasn’t really what Kris wanted to hear, but he continued before got disrupted. “And you like me, the way I like you.”
If Kris was confused, he was really confused now. “Yeah…?”
His confusion wasn’t really answered as Kevin suddenly rose from his seat and pulled him down for a kiss. It was wet, and it was kind of disgusting because of their morning breaths, but Kris could care less. Kevin was kissing him, and he was kissing back, and that was all that mattered.
“I like you,” Kevin mumbled to his lips, “and you like me.”
Kris hummed a ‘yes’ and they continued kissing, gradually getting slower. And even though the kiss was wet and sloppy-nothing like Kris had expected-it still was nice. It warmed his body, made his heart beating loudly from happiness, or maybe love, he didn’t know, and even the chapped lips of Kevin felt perfect.
Or maybe he was just so happy to kiss Kevin, the cool guy, his first love.
They pulled away sometimes after, blushing furiously and their lips were both wet. Kris was so happy he could die.
“Your breath smells like shit.”
“Well you too, crybaby.”
“Thanks.”
Kris chuckled and pulled Kevin for a hug. “So, are we, like, boyfriends now?”
“Maybe,” Kevin laughed when Kris tensed in his arms. “Of course we are, idiot.”
“Cool.”
They kissed again and again and again, completely forgetting the initial plan to eat breakfast and pretty much everything else.
But, again, maybe good things were just not meant for him. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to be happy.
Because one day in November, Kevin Shin was shot to dead by a robber in a minimarket-Kris still thinks it was so ironic and sad-as he tried to help the owner.
Kris always knew Kevin was kind and helping, but he would never think Kevin would be that brave and reckless to throw his body in front of the robber as the man fired his gun. He was shot right at his heart and died in location, the coke and chips he intended to buy for Kris and he lay covered with blood next to him.
(“I’ll buy the snacks today; just wait for me, okay? Oh, and don’t forget to set the most comfortable seat for me. I’d like to watch the new episode of Beavis and Butt-Head in the most pleasant way, thanks.”
“Just buy the snacks and come here quick, butt-head.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll be there soon.”)
(“Kris,” his grandma called, her voice wavered and she looked really upset. “Grandma has something to tell you.”
“Yeah,” Kris was anxious, because his grandma only called herself ‘grandma’ when she was angry or something really bad happened. “What is it, grand?”
“Kevin,” she breathed, and soon tears started trickling down on her face. “He was shot on his way here.”
…You’ll be here soon, will you, Kevin?)
Kris didn’t know how to react when he was first informed about Kevin, and he didn’t exactly remember what he did either. He only remembered crying his eyes out whilst holding on tight to Kevin’s bloodied snapback when he saw Kevin lying lifeless on the steel bed later on that day, looking so peaceful as if he was merely sleeping, except for he wasn’t.
He remembered regretting not to buy the snacks the day before-as he was the one who usually bought snacks and coke for them-because he was sick. He wondered (and sometimes still wondering, when he has nothing to do) if he had bought the snacks the day before, would have things been different.
And Kris didn’t know if it was just his luck or his bad luck, or if it would be better if he died instead of Kevin. He just didn’t and still doesn’t understand why it had to be on that exact day and time, when Kevin was buying snacks, did the robber carry out his plan. Kevin was only fifteen, was still so young and beautiful, and deserved a lifetime to be the person he dreamed to be.
It was just so soon, too soon.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3