haec olim for uberchrome 1/3
Title: haec olim
For: uberchrome
Pairing: Kyungsoo/Sehun (with Sehun/Jongin and Junmyeon/Kyungsoo)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 26,500+
Summary: The sky Sehun is painting is almost blue.
Warnings: explicit scenes, adult themes (infidelity)
When he was at school, Kyungsoo used to make little boxes that played with light. Sehun would paint those boxes; he would look through the cutout window to paint sunlight on ridged cardboard. Now Kyungsoo makes buildings that play with light and Sehun still paints, but he also waits tables in the evening after all the light is gone because he has bills to pay.
The forecasters have all said they are in for a rainy summer, and Sehun decides then that maybe the universe is trying to tell him to start the new project he's been considering. When he tells Kyungsoo about his idea over dinner, he gets raised eyebrows and an "oh" of interest.
"The life cycle of a storm?" Kyungsoo asks, looking intrigued.
"You know how storms change, right? It feels different right before it rains than it does right after," Sehun tries not to sound too excited. "I thought it'd be cool to try and paint that."
"Mm," Kyungsoo hums, nodding, "But what if it's just gray and wet instead of storming? It's kind of a gamble, getting the right conditions, isn't it?"
Sehun gives a sort of one-shoulder shrug.
"I want to try something different," he says. "Buildings aren't hard to pin down, but no storm stays the same for more than two seconds. They're almost-"
"-alive," Kyungsoo finishes. "I get it. I think it's a good idea."
"Really?"
Sehun brightens and smiles. He knows he doesn't need Kyungsoo's approval for anything he paints; it's just nice to know when an idea only sounds good inside his own head and when it might actually fly.
"Of course I do. It'll improve your painting to try something new. When have I ever not liked one of your projects? I think they're all great."
Sehun rolls his eyes. "I'm pretty sure that's just because you're supposed to like everything I do."
"Hm. I also think you have sauce on your face."
Kyungsoo sets down his chopsticks. He swipes at Sehun's cheek with his thumb, but Sehun sticks his tongue out to lick at the incoming finger instead.
"You're gross," Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose.
"Shut up. You love my tongue."
Kyungsoo looks demurely down at his plate.
Later, when Sehun is on his knees with his mouth around his cock, licking teasing circles around the head, Kyungsoo will admit that he very much likes Sehun's tongue. For now, he simply makes another pass at the sauce on Sehun's face with his thumb.
Kyungsoo had been Sehun's first in all the ways that mattered.
Sehun had always been drawn to bright colors and had been interested in painting because he loved the way colors played and mixed and complemented each other. He liked the bright plastic colors and blocky shapes that acrylic paints could create. It was Kyungsoo, who was at school to learn how to make buildings out of glass and steel, who showed him the ways simple white light or the faintest yellow of a sunbeam through a perfectly placed window could draw the eye just as powerfully as a riotous bed of flowers, and Sehun found himself following Kyungsoo on all of his architecture study outings just to hear him talk. When they visited an old church, Sehun was immediately drawn to the shapes of color the stained glass threw on the floor and the edges of the pews. Then he listened to Kyungsoo explain how the entire building's structure was designed to catch the light and send it reflecting and moving around the room, so that the open hall could be lit up with only the sunlight from the high windows, and Sehun found himself paying just as much attention to the light in Kyungsoo's eyes as the light on the marble floor.
Kyungsoo kissed him for the first time when Sehun showed him his semester final project: painting after painting of white and yellow sunlight on cool gray and brown cardboard. Sehun almost dropped his final A- in favor of grabbing Kyungsoo's sleeve instead, pulling him close and hanging on for dear life as Kyungsoo cupped his jaw and licked deep into his mouth. That kiss meant "thank you" and Sehun knew the feeling was mutual.
When Kyungsoo's cardboard boxes gave way to tall buildings of brick and stone and steel and glass, Sehun continued to paint the way they caught the light and reflected all the hues of a sunrise, and Kyungsoo continued to thank him in his own way. In the aftermath of the first dedication ceremony, after Sehun presented him with "501 Main Street", Kyungsoo pressed him down onto the mattress and kissed him until he was panting and so ready he was close to begging. Kyungsoo seemed about to let him take the lead, but when Sehun hesitated, Kyungsoo understood and set the careful pace himself. When Kyungsoo's hand first dipped below his waistband, Sehun knew that meant "thank you" too. Kyungsoo knew what he was doing, knew how to coax Sehun through the anxiety and nerves until he was writhing and keening high beneath him. When Kyungsoo pressed in for the first time, Sehun thought rather incoherently about negative space and painting the shadows lurking in his clavicles. Afterwards, Kyungsoo showed him the beauty in the single spectrum of one color when Sehun watched rosy dawn flush across his skin, and Sehun thought that he learned more about the play of light in each moment spent with Kyungsoo than in hours of formal instruction.
Even now, Sehun thinks that Kyungsoo is the best teacher he's ever had.
The day Sehun first hears Junmyeon's name, the sky he's painting is almost blue.
The heat and humidity have been oppressive for days now, leaving Sehun uninclined to bother putting on much in the way of clothing, almost as much for Kyungsoo's reaction as it is to keep cool. His days are spent sitting in front of a fan and checking the weather on his laptop, popcicle or ice cream spoon dangling out of his mouth as he wrinkles his nose at Kyungsoo carefully buttoning up his own shirt.
"It's too hot for clothes," Sehun says, around another massive bite of Americone Dream. "Why would you wear clothes?"
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. "You're the one who told me to go for this job, you know. Maybe an occasional freelance designer can get away with lounging around the house in his boxers, but once you start working as an actual contractor, I think they start to look for something a little less 'I'm a complete slob'."
"I would never have encouraged you if I knew it meant you wearing more clothing," Sehun sniffs.
"It's so nice to know you want me for something other than my body," Kyungsoo pats him on the head and steals the spoon to grab some of his ice cream. "Are you going to paint today?"
"I think so," Sehun looks down at the screen in front of him. "They're predicting the first big storm soon, and I wanted to get something of the clouds gathering."
"Mm. Well, I've got to get going or I'm going to be late for my meeting with Junmyeon-ssi."
Sehun cranes his neck upwards to look at Kyungsoo's upside-down face.
"Who's that?" he asks.
"My... mentor, I guess?" Kyungsoo drums his fingers thoughtfully on the back of the sofa behind Sehun's head. "He's supposed to answer any questions I have and show me around and all that. He does more of the finance and publicity side of things, but we'll probably be working together on some stuff. But he seems really nice and I don't want to keep him waiting, so I've got to head out."
Sehun collapses sideways over the arm of the sofa to pout at Kyungsoo while he ties his shoes.
"Is he good-looking?" he demands. "Please tell me he's hideous."
"He's devastatingly gorgeous," Kyungsoo deadpans. "I'm leaving you. Put some pants on before you go out on the balcony, okay? See you later."
Sehun huffs at the door as it closes, and rolls over to stare at the ceiling for a moment before texting Kyungsoo.
if rly cute pls take butt cam inquire as to 3somes
Kyungsoo replies a minute later. no. and i'm not kidding, put on pants before going outside.
Sehun replies with an i do what i want, then immediately rolls off the sofa to pull on some sweatpants and grab his brushes before getting sidetracked by the rumpled blankets on the bed. It manages to capture him for an hour-long nap and he wastes another half hour after that alternatively dozing and thinking about getting up, eventually remembering that he has work that evening so his time to paint is limited.
There's a thick line of clouds just near the tops of the surrounding buildings when he finally nudges open the sliding door with one hip - canvas under one arm, a handful of brushes in one hand, and a basket with all his paint tubes in the other - and Sehun takes a minute to admire the contrast between the sunny brandeis blue on his left and the deep gray lavenders trickling into ashy mauvine around the simmering stormclouds on his right. This isn't the big storm they're predicting yet, but they're certainly the evidence that the season has started. Sehun sets down the basket while he squints at the buildings around, trying to decide exactly how to frame this first painting, lifting the lid off the weathertight tub that holds his easel with one foot and setting it up one-handed before propping up the canvas. Sehun never does anything by halves, and he decided back when he came up with the idea for this project that he was going to be doing this series in oil paints rather than acrylic. He'd worked with oils while he was back in school, of course, oil being the traditional medium for painting, but he'd decided soon after that acrylic worked best for his own purposes and had proceeded to abandon oils as soon as they were no longer required. The result being that now he's sadly out of practice and struggling to remember the minute rules. The rabbit glue gesso takes much longer to dry than the stuff he tends to use, so Sehun had bought a canvas that came already primed to use for his first painting, just in case the ideal moment came before his own were ready to use. He mixes colors fast, thinning out the thick oil pigment so that he can quickly block out the shapes of the buildings in a midtone gray before setting to work on painting the sky itself; the clouds are apt to change at a moment's notice, so he wants to get as much of the basic shape laid out on the canvas as he can.
The paints handle differently than Sehun is used to, which makes it slow going for a while. By the time he has to stop he's made slightly less progress than he had hoped for, but he's got enough of a base to work off of tomorrow, so the thought doesn't bother him as much as it might otherwise. What does bother him is the fact that he's about to clean up to head off to work and Kyungsoo still isn't home. Sehun's shift runs late, and if he doesn't see his boyfriend before he leaves, he's unlikely to catch him awake for the rest of the day. He lingers around until the last possible moment, but eventually has to swallow his disappointment and lock the door to the empty apartment before taking the stairs two or three at a time to get to the restaurant before his boss is provoked into one of her famously long rants. (The turnover in thin-skinned staff is legendary among the restaurants of the area.) It's luckily just a block and a half away, so Sehun makes it there in time, even if he's out of breath, and he spends nearly his entire shift watching the rain set in, counting down the minutes before he can head home again. The apartment is dark when he finally gets back. Sehun peels off his rainsoaked clothes and leaves them in a pile on the floor that he knows Kyungsoo will glare at later, before climbing under the covers and cuddling up close to the nearest heat source. Kyungsoo groans and tries to push his icy feet away, eventually giving in and rolling over to wrap his arms around Sehun. It's not as good as actual conscious interaction, but Sehun will take what he can get.
The next day starts off frustrating and only gets worse. Kyungsoo does indeed have something to say about the pile of clothes on the floor, namely, "are you five years old? Oh my god, they're still wet- Stop acting like an attention-seeking toddler, for fucks sake, Sehun, you're twenty-two years old." Having said this, he stalks off to the kitchen to bang coffee mugs down onto the counter, making Sehun wonder guiltily just how late he'd stayed at the office last night. He tries to smooth the situation over by meekly asking about Kyungsoo's day, and ends up gritting his teeth through what feels like borrowed opinions repeated verbatim, each one prefaced with "Junmyeon-ssi said-" or "Junmyeon-ssi told me that-"
"I didn't ask what Junmyeon-ssi thought about the view from your window; I asked what you thought," Sehun mutters, earning a smack upside the head.
Kyungsoo heads back out right after breakfast, leaving Sehun to putter around the living room until finally settling down to pick up his painting where he left off the day before. This ends up turning into an exercise in frustration. Each brush stroke seems to do nothing but mar the painting further, until Sehun finally snaps, the paintbrush following soon afterwards. He flings the broken halves off the edge of the balcony with a strangled yell before quickly ducking away from the edge in case someone looks up. Sehun sinks down to sit with his back to the sliding glass door as a drop of sweat makes its way down from his hairline, eventually hanging off the edge of his jaw until he brushes it away irritably. The rain has done nothing to cut down the heat, so the supersaturated air lies over his face like a hot blanket. The weather is obviously playing merry hell with everyone's mood, Sehun thinks. He ends up sitting in front of the tv with a fan going next to him at full blast all day, eating every popsicle in the house and feeling bad about it even as he unwraps the last one. By the time Kyungsoo gets home again, this time early enough to see Sehun before he leaves once again for his night job, Sehun feels positively contrite. Enough to smile pleasantly as Kyungsoo tells him about another day spent in the delightful company of Kim Junmyeon. Kim Junmyeon, who apparently knows literally everyone in the company and is the darling of the management board. Kim Junmyeon, who has the most contacts in the building industry out of the entire publicity department, and who can win over the most dubious of potential clients with his dazzling smile, and who is- coming over for dinner tomorrow?
"What?" says Sehun, feeling particularly clever.
"I'd like you to meet him, you know?" Kyungsoo says, unconcerned. "He's a really nice guy, and I think you might like to get to know him."
"This is all moving a little fast, isn't it?" Sehun asks, and is met with an eye roll.
"It's not like you're supposed to date him or anything," laughs Kyungsoo.
"God, I hope not," Sehun mumbles under his breath.
"Anyway, how's the painting going?"
Sehun groans and slouches lower in his seat.
"That bad, huh?" Kyungsoo sounds sympathetic. "Have you tried getting any books about painting with oils? It might help to remind you how to go about it, even if you can't have an actual expert standing by to help?"
"No," says Sehun. "I mean, I googled it, but I figured I'd just work it out for myself. It's just not going as fast as I hoped it would. And who says I'm not an expert anyway?"
"Well, expert, if you're pressed for time, you really might think about getting a book or two," Kyungsoo suggests mildly.
"Books are your solution to everything," Sehun sighs, but the next day ends up wandering down the nearby streets in search of any place with books of a vaguely painting nature.
He ends up wandering into a small used bookstore tucked between a coffee shop and a laundromat where he picks up what essentially looks like "Oil Painting For Dummies" and, on a whim, a biography of J. M. W. Turner. The cashier unfolds from an impressive slouch as Sehun approaches and gives him a little smile.
"Hey," he says. "Did you find whatever you were looking for?"
Sehun nods, rummaging through his pockets absentmindedly for the loose bills he'd stuffed in there. When he looks up, it's to see a pair of warm brown eyes still regarding him with interest. Sehun is pretty sure he'd checked that there was no paint on his face before he left, but he's been wrong before.
"What?" he blurts out after an awkward moment.
"Oh!" The cashier seems realize he'd been standing there and looks away, embarrassed, a faint pink spreading over his tanned skin. "I mean- It's just- I haven't seen you here before."
"Oh," Sehun isn't sure if he's supposed to introduce himself or what. "Yeah. It's the closest bookstore? I was looking for a book."
Another awkward pause before-
"My name's Jongin."
Ah. Introductions are the right answer.
"I'm Sehun," he says, and then, because that seems weirdly abrupt, "I'm kind of a painter, I guess."
Jongin looks down at the two books on the counter.
"Really?" he deadpans. "And here I was going to guess engineer."
Sehun snorts and that seems to have broken the ice a bit because Jongin relaxes and gives him another little smile.
"Trying something new?" Jongin asks, nodding at the books while he punches numbers into the register.
"Yeah," Sehun stares at the glossy reproduction of Rain, Steam and Speed on the biography cover. "It's... not going so well."
"Well, if my books can't help the struggling artist, nothing can," Jongin's mouth closes around the words like he's regretted them as soon as he spoke, but he presses on a second later. "If you don't mind, I'd love to hear what the end results are."
"Ugh, the way things are going, no one is going to want to see the end result."
Jongin gives him a little fist pump as he hands over the paper bag with the books. "Fighting!"
Sehun rolls his eyes, but finds himself smiling back anyway. He lets out a hiss when the bag shifts and leaves a paper cut on his hand, sending Jongin diving beneath the counter at lightning speed.
"I can fix that!" he emerges holding a bandaid triumphantly.
He was planning to get one on his own when he gets home, since Kyungsoo keeps Hulk bandaids to put on tiny injuries that he thinks Sehun is making too much of a fuss over, but Sehun's hand is tightly in Jongin's grip before he can say anything.
"You have no idea how many times I cut myself on these bags every day."
Jongin wiggles his own fingers to show off the two bandaids of his own. "There, now we're bandaid buddies."
Sehun looks back and forth between the grinning Jongin and his newly bandaged finger. How do you even react when someone you've met five minutes ago grabs your hand and plasters a... Superman bandaid on it? He shifts his weight from one foot to the other in lieu of responding. Jongin clears his throat and brushes the bandage wrapper off the counter.
"Can't damage the talented painter hands, you know," he says.
"Oh."
Sehun continues to look at the bandaid.
"Well," he says, "I should get going. Paint stuff. Um. Thanks."
"Yes," says Jongin, sounding every bit as uncomfortable as Sehun feels. "Good luck. With the painting things."
Sehun waves as he pulls the door open, and it's not until he's outside and halfway home that he realizes that not only had that been the most painfully awkward conversation he'd had in entire years, but that Jongin had probably certainly been hitting on him the entire time. He groans and rubs his face. Way to be perceptive, Sehun. Time to forget any of that had ever happened. Time to go home and- ... and get ready for their dinner guest. Because this day could not possibly get any better. Sehun makes up his mind right then and there that at the very least he is going to demand that Kyungsoo kiss his finger better.
When he gets back, Kyungsoo is already home and stirring something in a pot, so Sehun simply stands in the doorway and watches for a second.
"This is so domestic I could cry," he says, coming to peer over his shoulder at the stove. He's not entirely sure things have cooled down from the day before, but the way Kyungsoo is humming distractedly while sniffing the various spice bottles is encouraging.
"Well, here's your opportunity," Kyungsoo hands him a grocery bag off the kitchen counter. "Chop onions and cry all you want."
"I'm injured," Sehun whines, holding up his finger as proof. "I can't chop anything."
Kyungsoo eyes the bandaged finger.
"Who told you you could bring that DC scum into this house of Marvel?" he demands. "Chop onions now, as punishment for your blasphemy."
Sehun can feel himself settling down into their usual easy banter again, the tense mood that had been hanging over them for the past day peeling away like the papery onion skins under his fingers, and he nudges Kyungsoo gently with his hip as he comes to stand at the cutting board next to him.
"Hey," he says. Kyungsoo glances over out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry for being a slob."
"Mm. Sorry for being a nag."
They work in companionable silence for a moment. Sehun chops the onions into quarters, then stops and glances between them and the pot.
"How do you want these cut?" he asks. "I have no idea what you're making."
"We're just having chicken with a sauce kind of thing. If I can figure it out," Kyungsoo frowns into the pot. "I dunno, chop it small enough that you'd be okay with putting into your mouth."
"It's food," Sehun points out. "There is very little food I will not put in my mouth. This is not the most helpful instruction you could give me."
Kyungsoo sighs and bumps him out of the way, taking the knife and onion into his own hands.
"Here, just do this."
Sehun's slices are far clumsier and irregular than Kyungsoo's, but they seem to pass muster since Kyungsoo nods and turns back to the pot where he appears to be very slowly melting butter. Sehun starts sniffing and blinking before too long, the sharp onions making his eyes water.
"I can't do this," he complains. "I don't have glass eyeballs like you."
"You're being an infant."
"It hurts. It's getting all in my paper cut."
Sehun drops the knife. He takes a step back, scrubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands.
"No, I actually can't," he says. "This is the worst."
He blinks a couple times to see Kyungsoo standing in front of him. Kyungsoo takes his hands and pulls them away from his face.
"Don't rub it into your eyes, idiot," he says. "Is it really getting in your cut?"
"Yes," Sehun pouts.
Kyungsoo brings the bandaged finger to his lips to make the loudest, most obnoxious smacking kiss he can, and then laughs at Sehun's face.
"My eyes hurt too," Sehun points out.
"If you think I'm going to put my mouth on your eyeballs, you'd better think again," Kyungsoo grimaces, but pulls Sehun down by the back of his neck to plant a kiss on each eyelid anyway.
Kyungsoo ends up finishing the onions and most of the other cooking-related tasks, banishing Sehun off to the side to toss lettuce with some olive oil, where he can't hurt himself. By the time the doorbell rings, Sehun is actually in a good mood and prepared to give this Junmyeon guy a chance. This is why when Kyungsoo opens the door and is greeted by a guy with a way too genuine smile, far too many compliments about the apartment decor, and a bottle of way too expensive wine, Sehun is able to continue setting the table in relative peace, only ruffled slightly by the enthusiastic one-armed hug he witnesses through the door into the hallway. He arranges his face into the absolute most pleasant expression he is capable of making (which, granted, often comes across as "attractively bored" but Kyungsoo always seems to find that either endearing or hilarious, so that's okay) before coming out into the living room. The look Junmyeon gives him can only be described as appraising, and Sehun bristles again as he gets the distinct impression he's being pleasantly examined and found wanting before Junmyeon comes forward, all eye smiles and polite greetings, to shake his hand. Sehun notices rather unkindly that his tie is completely the wrong color for the shirt he's wearing, and that he's mixing two patterns that should really never be worn together.
"You must be Sehun," Junmyeon makes a perfect bow, "Nice to meet you. You're Kyungsoo's roommate?"
"His boyfriend," says Sehun icily.
To his credit, Junmyeon only freezes for a second.
"Ah, really?" He recovers rather gracefully, Sehun thinks. "Kyungsoo has mentioned you a few times, but we haven't really gotten to know each other very well yet."
"How wonderful," Sehun smiles, earning a warning glare from Kyungsoo, who mouths be polite from across the room.
"Well. If you'll get glasses, maybe we can try some of the wine before dinner?" Junmyeon's attempt to change the topic does not achieve the desired effect, since Sehun only grinds his teeth and stares daggers when Kyungsoo hurries out of the room.
Junmyeon's eyebrows rise in confusion when he comes back holding three glasses.
"He's old enough to drink?" Junmyeon asks.
"He is," Sehun snaps, taking the glasses and pouring the wine himself. "Would you care to check ID?"
"Sehun, manners," Kyungsoo hisses.
"I'll use them if he does," mutters Sehun in reply. Kyungsoo looks upset.
Sehun does nothing to alleviate the situation, instead choosing to stare over the rim of his glass at Junmyeon and disagree with everything he says, even if only inside his own head. By the time they sit down to eat and Junmyeon reaches for the pepper, Sehun has already made up his mind that he loathes him with a fiery passion. Kyungsoo's hand on Sehun's knee keeps him quiet throughout dinner, but this gives him time to observe how Junmyeon laughs at everything Kyungsoo says, how he easily takes over the table as if he's known them for years, and how completely and thoroughly he ignores Sehun's presence. In fact, Junmyeon spends so much time ignoring him that when he finally addresses him with a remark, Sehun doesn't immediately notice.
"What?" he says, blinking.
"I just asked what you do for a living?" Junmyeon repeats.
"Oh. I'm... a painter."
"Really?" Junmyeon looks around. "You must have done some of the paintings in here then."
He nods towards "501 Main Street" and Sehun feels positively amiable for a second.
"He's very good," Kyungsoo says, patting his leg with a sideways smile.
"He must be, to make painting lucrative," Junmyeon's face shows nothing but calm interest. "I'd always heard that it's hard for even the best painters to make a living doing that, but you manage to keep an apartment like this. I'm very impressed."
Sehun feels something like ice trickle down his spine and through all his limbs as he thinks of all the rent checks with Kyungsoo's name and signature on them. Junmyeon is still looking at him with cheerful expectation.
"I actually have a job at a restaurant too," Sehun says, angry at his inability to look anywhere but at his plate.
"Sehun works very hard," says Kyungsoo, kindly not mentioning the times he's called Sehun's phone at noon and found him still asleep. Sehun doesn't feel like eating anymore.
Junmyeon doesn't stay long after dinner, which suits Sehun just fine. He stays back near the table while Kyungsoo shows Junmyeon out, waiting to hear the door click shut before he goes out into the hall.
"I don't like him," he says, with no preamble.
Kyungsoo sighs tiredly. "You know, I think I got that."
He waves a despairing hand at Sehun.
"And I'm pretty sure he got that too. Would it have killed you to be polite to him?"
Sehun's jaw drops.
"Were you even listening?" he demands. "Did you hear what he was saying? He treated me like a little kid the entire time!"
"You were acting like a little kid," Kyungsoo says.
The urge to say "he started it" is almost overwhelming, but Sehun can see that that would not exactly help his case.
"What about when he was talking about my paintings?" he says instead. "All that about how even really great painters have trouble making enough money? It's like he was trying to get me either to boast about how wildly successful I am or admit that I'm leeching off your paycheck. There was no way to win that!"
"I think your problem is that you're thinking of it as something you have to 'win' in the first place."
Kyungsoo runs both hands through his hair, the layer of sweat that's covering them both in the muggy weather leaving it standing up in wild flyaways. Sehun is very glad he had not done this until after Junmyeon left, because he's sure no one could ever fail to fall just as hard for a distracted Kyungsoo as Sehun does himself, and he has this vague feeling that Kyungsoo would have objected to him attempting to blind Junmyeon with a spoon.
"He was treating you like his wife or something," Sehun grumbled. "How did that not bother you? He acted like it was his own house from the minute he walked in."
Kyungsoo just fixes him with a look.
"Is this about you being jealous?" he asks, making Sehun cringe. "What, he wasn't respecting your manly claim or anything? Because if you're about to tell me that that's the reason you spent all evening glaring, I swear-"
"What 'manly claim'?" Sehun mutters, flushing slightly. Kyungsoo stops and looks at him.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," he rolls his eyes. "Yes, I see your point."
Sehun is acutely embarrassed, but the topic seems to be moving along less infuriating paths now, so he does his best to both look contrite and continue diverting Kyungsoo's attention.
"Do you want help doing the dishes, hyung?" he asks.
"Well, I know that's something Oh Sehun would never ask without an ulterior motive, but I'll take what I can get."
Kyungsoo graciously accepts Sehun's unspoken apology without another word. Sehun makes it a point to get more soap suds on Kyungsoo than on the dishes, trying to argue that it's too hot to scald their hands off without staying properly hydrated, to which Kyungsoo argues that "this does not count as staying hydrated at all, Sehun, do you even know the meaning of the word?" Sehun responds by flicking the water off of his hands onto Kyungsoo's face. The dishes take twice as long to do with two people working, which Kyungsoo points out is counterproductive, but Sehun knows he actually prefers it this way.
Sehun manages to finish that first painting over the next few days, poking at it with the palette he keeps stored in a tub of clean water to keep the paints from drying out. (Kyungsoo had vetoed using the kitchen sink for this purpose.) Kyungsoo is in and out during that time, apparently attending meetings and making connections that will help him later on, according to Junmyeon. Junmyeon, along with his ever-helpful advice, continues to figure in their conversations more than Sehun would like, though Kyungsoo makes a noticeable effort to refer to him less and Sehun attempts to respond neutrally when he does. Nothing Kyungsoo can say makes him like Junmyeon any better, however. Sehun honestly wonders how Kyungsoo can still think so well of him after witnessing what Sehun thought was the most disastrous meeting possible, yet Kyungsoo seems to attribute anything off about Junmyeon's conduct to Sehun's behavior. They have a few not-quite-arguments on this point, but since Junmyeon has been declared a sort of no man's land in their conversation, Sehun can only simmer quietly while Kyungsoo continues to meet potential future clients with his new mentor.
Once the painting is finished, Sehun has nothing much to do except go back to watching daytime dramas in front of three oscillating fans, eating ice cream out of the tub while he checks the weather. Kyungsoo texts him from work at least once a day with some variation of I heard a cold front might be moving in nearby- don't give up yet, Sehunnie! before heading into interminable meetings all over town. If Sehun were to admit the reasons for his still-growing dislike of Junmyeon, it would be at least partially because the sudden explosion in Kyungsoo's schedule made it close to impossible to hold a conversation longer than fifteen minutes at a time. Sehun finds himself taking buses and trains over to Kyungsoo's office several times to eat lunch together, but he knows that when the next storm rolls in, his vast tracts of free time will disappear for a while. Still, this is just temporary, Sehun tells himself. Once Kyungsoo gets a contract, he can sit around the house to sketch floorplans and make little experimental models on the living room carpet, where, if he has anything to say about it, Junmyeon will not be welcome.
By the end of the week, a morning dawns gray and promisingly overcast. Sehun presses his nose to the window glass, prompting Kyungsoo to call him a kid in a candy store window. Sehun looks over his shoulder to stick out his tongue at Kyungsoo, who is still wrapped in wrinkled sheets and laughing at him from the bed. When he finally opens the windows, Sehun can smell the ozone through the thick, hot air. He checks the weather report on his phone for confirmation, even though the heavy line of clouds lying dark on the horizon is proof enough of the oncoming storm for him to start laying out all of his supplies. Kyungsoo has a late start that morning, which he spends alternating between watching Sehun running around with a canvas under his arm and running around himself to make sure his portfolio is pulled together with all the material he'll need for today's big meeting. When Sehun asks him why he is freaking out about meeting someone after spending all week doing exactly the same thing, Kyungsoo makes a strangled noise of pure panicked misery.
"It's not exactly the same," he groans. "This man is actively looking for someone to design a project. Whether or not our firm gets this contract depends completely on how much I impress him today."
"Well," Sehun comes up behind him to wrap arms around his waist, "Think of it like this... If he looks at your stuff and doesn't want to hire you, you'd probably hate working with him anyway and he's dumb and you're brilliant so fuck him, man."
Kyungsoo laughs at that, the sound easing some of the sympathetic tension that had settled over Sehun just as Sehun can feel some of that same tension draining out of the man in his arms. He pokes the side of Kyungsoo's neck with his nose.
"It'll be okay. You'll do great," he assures him.
"Hmm, at least one of us is confident on that point." Kyungsoo turns in his arms and stands on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I'll do my best."
"What time do you have to leave here to meet this asshole?" Sehun asks.
"Well, it's about a two-hour drive each way, so Junmyeon-ssi is driving me from the office building in about an hour and a half..."
"Oh," Sehun frowns. "What time are you meeting that asshole then?"
"Sehun." Kyungsoo's tone is warning.
"Okay, okay," Sehun holds up his hands in surrender. "I mean, what time are you leaving here?"
"About twenty minutes, I think? I want to be sure I catch the right bus. Painting looks good today, right?"
"Mmhm." Sehun hums in agreement, looking out towards the balcony door at the ever-growing dark streak on the horizon. "I don't think it's supposed to hit until late this afternoon, but it should be around for a while then. They said this one was slow."
"You have a canvas ready?"
Sehun nods. He's spent some of the downtime over the past few days both stretching and preparing canvasses and flipping through the books he'd bought.
"Yeah, I have everything set up to go whenever the storm actually hits."
Kyungsoo rummages around under the kitchen sink then tosses Sehun the box of heavy garbage bags he unearths. "Here. If it gets too wet to stand outside and paint, you can throw those down on the floor so you can leave the doors open without causing too much water damage."
"Awesome. Thanks." Sehun tosses the box over his shoulder, where it lands neatly on the sofa. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"
The response he gets is noncommittal, which means no, so Sehun grabs a bagel, slathers it with cream cheese, and shoves it in Kyungsoo's face. Kyungsoo just looks at it cross-eyed.
"How am I supposed to eat that?" he says. "If I bite into it, its creamy guts will come pouring out the other side."
"You have to eat," Sehun waves the bagel in little circles before his nose. "You have hours of travel time today."
"Did you have to put half the tub of cream cheese on there?" complains Kyungsoo, but he accepts the bagel anyway. "What are you, Condiment Man? That's gross."
"Stop complaining and eat. You'll get sick if you don't."
"Yes, mother." Kyungsoo stops and gives a dramatic shudder. "You know, I think this relationship is getting way more Oedipal than I'm personally comfortable with."
Sehun considers this. "Yeah, that's kinda creepy. Eat it because you love me then."
"I'm positively drowning in your love," Kyungsoo looks down at the bagel again. "Or maybe just cream cheese. It's hard to tell with you sometimes."
"Eat and get on the damned bus already, before I attempt to make dinner too," Sehun threatens, and Kyungsoo laughs at him through a mouthful of baked goods.
Kyungsoo checks his files three more times before he makes it out the door, leaving Sehun standing in the middle of the room and stretching his arms high above his head with a yawn. Sehun finds that most shows are incredibly hard to follow when one is distracted every five minutes listening for thunder, so he turns off the television within an hour of sitting down. He ends up pulling the coffee table close and lying sideways off the edge of the sofa so that his upper half is balanced over the glass of the tabletop, a dripping popsicle from their replenished store in one hand, the other hand holding open the Turner biography from the bookstore. If someone asked him, Sehun would probably be the first to say he didn't read much, but something about Turner had always pulled him in - Sehun often felt terribly terribly young compared to Kyungsoo, the people Kyungsoo worked with, and even the other painters he encountered, so hearing something about an incredibly young but successful painter does wonders to boost his confidence. He stops jumping up at every promising sound, instead becoming surprisingly engrossed in the book before him. Something about the way Turner thought of color and light reminds Sehun of Kyungsoo, he thinks. Something about the way his paintings seemed to drift further and further from the tangible physical world and became absorbed entirely with light and mist makes him think of Kyungsoo's buildings and what he'd taught Sehun about using light.
He only gets up when his stomach growls insistently a few hours later, and even then brings the book with him, eyes glued intently to the pages while he eats packaged ramyun straight out of the pot. The more he understands the technique Turner was striving for, the closer Sehun feels to knowing where he wants his own paintings to go. He lets out an audible snerk when he reads contemporary critics' complaints that the paintings looked "unfinished". Leaning his chair back on two legs, Sehun is torn between amusement and frustration when he realizes that the problems he'd been having with the previous painting were almost all due to overworking it. The old advice from his instructors to stop just at the point of "maybe a little bit more" comes belatedly flooding back into his mind. The problem with getting into the habit of working with the same subjects over and over again is that it breeds overconfidence, making it too easy to churn out finished-looking work without thinking too deeply about what the canvas actually conveys. Buildings are so concrete, and Sehun so used to painting them, that the changeable clouds of his newest project had left him floundering as he searched for a final target.
Kyungsoo's right. Books are brilliant, Sehun thinks, the secrets of the universe now laid bare to him. I love books.
A loud peal of thunder has him nearly tumbling out of his seat. The sky is black with roiling clouds now, and though no drops are falling yet, Sehun can already smell the impending rain from inside the apartment. It feels like he's only been reading for an hour by his reckoning, but when he glances at his phone the clock there gives him the lie. 5:13 in the afternoon. He's been wrapped up in his reading for at least six hours, and now that he actually thinks about it, he is pretty far in the book now...
It takes another warning rumble to jerk Sehun out of his thoughts again and propel him into motion. He grabs the bucket holding his paint tubes, flinging open the door to the balcony just as it starts to rain. Each drop looks to be about the size of a peanut, except hitting with the force of a paintball pellet at the same time. Sehun reaches down to unfold his easel and to pull the glass palette out of the large cooler he's commandeered for this purpose, hissing between his teeth as he feels the sting of pelting droplets on his back and neck, and he realizes that Kyungsoo may have had a point with the garbage bags - there's no way he'll be able to paint out here in weather like this. He lays the bags out with some duct tape to hold them down against the wind, then sizes up his subject. The light is tinted a wonderfully eerie green, while the lightning visible over the rooftops opposite has hints of almost innumerable shades. Sehun thinks that this storm was worth the days of waiting.
The painting takes quick shape under his brush, especially now with his latest flash of inspiration still rolling around at the front of his mind, and Sehun is just in the middle of layering white and hints of red around where a streak of lightning leaves the clouds when his phone buzzes, making him jerk away from the canvas to avoid smashing the bristles against it. He fumbles to flip the phone over with the backs of his paint-covered hands, paintbrush clenched in his teeth, and hits the speaker button with his elbow.
"Mwth mp?"
"Sehun?"
Oh, right. Mouth full.
"Yeah. What's up?" he tries again, this time without a mouth full of brush.
"Hi. I won't be back until late."
Kyungsoo sounds distracted. Sehun frowns, now only half paying attention to the colors he's mixing and tweaking on his palette.
"Why?"
"It's raining too hard to drive," Kyungsoo says and Sehun hears doors opening and closing on the other end. "Cars are pulled over all along the road and visibility is really bad. We were on our way back from the meeting when it hit, so we got caught on the road."
"So what are you doing now?"
"Well, Junmyeon's place is really close, so I think we're just going to stay put here until it clears up."
It's a good thing he's not holding his phone right now because a paintbrush is a hell of a lot cheaper to break, and the creaking of wood is a testament to how tight his grip is right now. His mood plummets sharply, the storm and paint all but forgotten.
“Are you painting the storm right now?” Kyungsoo asks. “It’s a really good one. I should get off and let you get back to work. I’ll see you later, okay? I don't know how long it'll last, so you don't have to wait up."
"Yes," Sehun says around the lump in his throat. "Yes, I'm painting. I'll stay up. I'll- yes."
"Don't worry about it. Just concentrate on painting and get some rest."
"Okay," Sehun repeats. "Okay. I'll see you when you get back. I'll stay up."
His phone screen goes dark as he stares blankly at the canvas before him. A low roll of thunder sounds again. His hands are trembling slightly, almost as if shaken by the sound. His thoughts feel like they're running frantically without actually getting anywhere, so Sehun carefully sets down the brush and palette before stepping out onto the balcony. He might as well have stepped into a pool, the rain coming down so hard that he's soaked through to the skin in an instant. He hadn't noticed when the sun went down, but all the streetlamps and surrounding windows are lit now, even though the pinpricks of light are almost hidden by what appears to be a thick curtain of water. Sehun is not sure he's ever been out in a storm this heavy. The air has about as much water in it as it does actual air, while the wind takes the opportunity every few seconds to send it all flying sideways with gusts that nearly bowl Sehun over. It's a good thing the railing is high enough to keep most of their belongings from being blown away, but he notices that several small potted plants have mysteriously disappeared. Luckily, no one is out on the streets to be hit with flying pottery, since apparently no one but Sehun is addled enough to stand in a storm like this at all. The sound level has gotten louder since he stepped outside, so he assumes the white noise he hears is only partially in his own head.
Kyungsoo is at Junmyeon's house, he thinks blearily.
This is fine. This is nothing to be upset about. Kyungsoo had told him that it's too dangerous to be driving right now, and the fact that Sehun can't make out distinct shapes further away than the railing's edge proves this to be true. The idea of Kyungsoo trying to brave the roads in these conditions just because Sehun doesn't like his coworker is ridiculous. It makes perfect sense to run for the nearest shelter, and Junmyeon's house would have everything they needed to wait out the storm, like warm drinks and towels and a dryer for wet clothes and-
No. Sehun crouches down, hands clutching tight at the bars of the railing. That is a train of thought that needs to stop right there. It is a perfectly normal thing to provide bedraggled guests the opportunity to dry off before they catch hypothermia. Sehun had been drenched within thirty seconds of this, and is probably about to start shivering in a second, so only a heartless monster would fail to offer at least a towel. It's courtesy between acquaintances. Sehun would do the same for Junmyeon. He hesitates then and thinks carefully about that. Junmyeon would do the same for Sehun. Probably. Maybe. According to hearsay, Junmyeon is very pleasant to people who aren't Sehun. Kyungsoo is not Sehun, nor is Sehun present, therefore Junmyeon is probably being very gracious and pleasant and-
No. This is not okay. This is not even a little bit okay. Sehun does shiver then. Kyungsoo is allowed to get along with his coworkers, so the very fact that he's reacting so violently to this makes Sehun stop and prod a little deeper into it. Kyungsoo would tell him to think about this rationally, so he takes a deep breath and thinks about Kyungsoo laughing at one of his jokes, pictures his eyes growing wide and sparkling with merriment. This is a good thing. He changes the picture, replacing himself with one of their friends from school, and finding that this is also a pleasing thought. Finally, he replaces the friend with Junmyeon. The sudden sick punch to his gut leaves Sehun gasping as he collapses backwards to sit painfully on the ground. Sehun is jealous, he realizes with horror. He's jealous of Junmyeon and of the idea that Kyungsoo might enjoy spending time with Junmyeon.
Why? he wonders miserably.
Why does the thought of Junmyeon getting close to Kyungsoo set his teeth so on edge? Why had he taken such an instant dislike to Junmyeon? Sehun watches a steady stream of water trickle in through the open door, pooling on the black garbage bags around the legs of his easel. Junmyeon is immediately likeable. Kyungsoo had spent enough time talking about him those first few days to make that clear. Kyungsoo had immediately liked Sehun too, though. They've always gotten along like a house on fire, even from day one, because Kyungsoo gets along with people. It's one of the many things Sehun has always admired and envied and loved about him, so what makes Junmyeon so different? Junmyeon had strode into the room and into control of the situation - there is a kind of effortless confidence about Junmyeon that Sehun has never been able to achieve in his life. He knows what to say at any given moment to win people over and to at their ease, while Sehun is left with awkward silences and tongue-tied stumbling faux pas. Junmyeon is poised and in control. Sehun has never been in control of his life and wouldn't even begin to know what it feels like to be anything other than lost in a sea of too many confusing, uncertain emotions. He's always counted on Kyungsoo to know what he's doing, but it now occurs to him for the first time to wonder if maybe Kyungsoo would like the burden of responsibility to fall on shoulders other than his own occasionally. The idea terrifies Sehun. Junmyeon is everything Sehun isn't, his very existence now sending Sehun into near meltdowns when he imagines a day where Kyungsoo realizes that he wants more than Sehun can give him.
It all boils down to this: Junmyeon makes Sehun feel horribly and utterly inadequate.
The revelation is not so much staggering as it is simply full of numb terror. Sehun doesn't really know how long he sits there, legs pulled tightly up to his chest with arms wrapped around his knees, but he only jerks out of his daze when the world goes strangely quiet. It's no longer raining, which means that Kyungsoo will be headed home soon. Kyungsoo will be coming home after hours of Junmyeon's pleasant, mature companionship and he will see Sehun in all his needy emotional distress and he will- what? Sehun doesn't know because, once again, he feels adrift in the ocean with no paddle and no sight of shore. His soaked clothes go into the laundry basket as he peels them off, that's one thing he does know, and the waterlogged garbage bags are taken care of with a few towels tossed over them. Sehun wraps himself in a blanket stolen off the bed and lies on the sofa, staring at the front door.
He doesn't notice falling asleep, but the soft click of the door closing startles his eyes open. He silently watches the figure fumbling around in the dim light, trying to discern anything different in his movements, anything subtle shift in his affections, as if he could read how Kyungsoo feels about Junmyeon in the way he lines his shoes up by the mat. The lights come on and Kyungsoo pauses with his hand on the switch before his eyes soften at the sight of Sehun.
"I told you not to wait up," he says.
"I wanted to see you," Sehun answers.
Kyungsoo holds out both hands with a smile.
"Come to bed."
Kyungsoo's head fits neatly under his chin as Sehun wraps him into a hug, and he molds perfectly against Sehun's chest as they settle under the blankets, and Sehun thinks that this, at least, is something he can do right.
part 2
For: uberchrome
Pairing: Kyungsoo/Sehun (with Sehun/Jongin and Junmyeon/Kyungsoo)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 26,500+
Summary: The sky Sehun is painting is almost blue.
Warnings: explicit scenes, adult themes (infidelity)
When he was at school, Kyungsoo used to make little boxes that played with light. Sehun would paint those boxes; he would look through the cutout window to paint sunlight on ridged cardboard. Now Kyungsoo makes buildings that play with light and Sehun still paints, but he also waits tables in the evening after all the light is gone because he has bills to pay.
The forecasters have all said they are in for a rainy summer, and Sehun decides then that maybe the universe is trying to tell him to start the new project he's been considering. When he tells Kyungsoo about his idea over dinner, he gets raised eyebrows and an "oh" of interest.
"The life cycle of a storm?" Kyungsoo asks, looking intrigued.
"You know how storms change, right? It feels different right before it rains than it does right after," Sehun tries not to sound too excited. "I thought it'd be cool to try and paint that."
"Mm," Kyungsoo hums, nodding, "But what if it's just gray and wet instead of storming? It's kind of a gamble, getting the right conditions, isn't it?"
Sehun gives a sort of one-shoulder shrug.
"I want to try something different," he says. "Buildings aren't hard to pin down, but no storm stays the same for more than two seconds. They're almost-"
"-alive," Kyungsoo finishes. "I get it. I think it's a good idea."
"Really?"
Sehun brightens and smiles. He knows he doesn't need Kyungsoo's approval for anything he paints; it's just nice to know when an idea only sounds good inside his own head and when it might actually fly.
"Of course I do. It'll improve your painting to try something new. When have I ever not liked one of your projects? I think they're all great."
Sehun rolls his eyes. "I'm pretty sure that's just because you're supposed to like everything I do."
"Hm. I also think you have sauce on your face."
Kyungsoo sets down his chopsticks. He swipes at Sehun's cheek with his thumb, but Sehun sticks his tongue out to lick at the incoming finger instead.
"You're gross," Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose.
"Shut up. You love my tongue."
Kyungsoo looks demurely down at his plate.
Later, when Sehun is on his knees with his mouth around his cock, licking teasing circles around the head, Kyungsoo will admit that he very much likes Sehun's tongue. For now, he simply makes another pass at the sauce on Sehun's face with his thumb.
Kyungsoo had been Sehun's first in all the ways that mattered.
Sehun had always been drawn to bright colors and had been interested in painting because he loved the way colors played and mixed and complemented each other. He liked the bright plastic colors and blocky shapes that acrylic paints could create. It was Kyungsoo, who was at school to learn how to make buildings out of glass and steel, who showed him the ways simple white light or the faintest yellow of a sunbeam through a perfectly placed window could draw the eye just as powerfully as a riotous bed of flowers, and Sehun found himself following Kyungsoo on all of his architecture study outings just to hear him talk. When they visited an old church, Sehun was immediately drawn to the shapes of color the stained glass threw on the floor and the edges of the pews. Then he listened to Kyungsoo explain how the entire building's structure was designed to catch the light and send it reflecting and moving around the room, so that the open hall could be lit up with only the sunlight from the high windows, and Sehun found himself paying just as much attention to the light in Kyungsoo's eyes as the light on the marble floor.
Kyungsoo kissed him for the first time when Sehun showed him his semester final project: painting after painting of white and yellow sunlight on cool gray and brown cardboard. Sehun almost dropped his final A- in favor of grabbing Kyungsoo's sleeve instead, pulling him close and hanging on for dear life as Kyungsoo cupped his jaw and licked deep into his mouth. That kiss meant "thank you" and Sehun knew the feeling was mutual.
When Kyungsoo's cardboard boxes gave way to tall buildings of brick and stone and steel and glass, Sehun continued to paint the way they caught the light and reflected all the hues of a sunrise, and Kyungsoo continued to thank him in his own way. In the aftermath of the first dedication ceremony, after Sehun presented him with "501 Main Street", Kyungsoo pressed him down onto the mattress and kissed him until he was panting and so ready he was close to begging. Kyungsoo seemed about to let him take the lead, but when Sehun hesitated, Kyungsoo understood and set the careful pace himself. When Kyungsoo's hand first dipped below his waistband, Sehun knew that meant "thank you" too. Kyungsoo knew what he was doing, knew how to coax Sehun through the anxiety and nerves until he was writhing and keening high beneath him. When Kyungsoo pressed in for the first time, Sehun thought rather incoherently about negative space and painting the shadows lurking in his clavicles. Afterwards, Kyungsoo showed him the beauty in the single spectrum of one color when Sehun watched rosy dawn flush across his skin, and Sehun thought that he learned more about the play of light in each moment spent with Kyungsoo than in hours of formal instruction.
Even now, Sehun thinks that Kyungsoo is the best teacher he's ever had.
The day Sehun first hears Junmyeon's name, the sky he's painting is almost blue.
The heat and humidity have been oppressive for days now, leaving Sehun uninclined to bother putting on much in the way of clothing, almost as much for Kyungsoo's reaction as it is to keep cool. His days are spent sitting in front of a fan and checking the weather on his laptop, popcicle or ice cream spoon dangling out of his mouth as he wrinkles his nose at Kyungsoo carefully buttoning up his own shirt.
"It's too hot for clothes," Sehun says, around another massive bite of Americone Dream. "Why would you wear clothes?"
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. "You're the one who told me to go for this job, you know. Maybe an occasional freelance designer can get away with lounging around the house in his boxers, but once you start working as an actual contractor, I think they start to look for something a little less 'I'm a complete slob'."
"I would never have encouraged you if I knew it meant you wearing more clothing," Sehun sniffs.
"It's so nice to know you want me for something other than my body," Kyungsoo pats him on the head and steals the spoon to grab some of his ice cream. "Are you going to paint today?"
"I think so," Sehun looks down at the screen in front of him. "They're predicting the first big storm soon, and I wanted to get something of the clouds gathering."
"Mm. Well, I've got to get going or I'm going to be late for my meeting with Junmyeon-ssi."
Sehun cranes his neck upwards to look at Kyungsoo's upside-down face.
"Who's that?" he asks.
"My... mentor, I guess?" Kyungsoo drums his fingers thoughtfully on the back of the sofa behind Sehun's head. "He's supposed to answer any questions I have and show me around and all that. He does more of the finance and publicity side of things, but we'll probably be working together on some stuff. But he seems really nice and I don't want to keep him waiting, so I've got to head out."
Sehun collapses sideways over the arm of the sofa to pout at Kyungsoo while he ties his shoes.
"Is he good-looking?" he demands. "Please tell me he's hideous."
"He's devastatingly gorgeous," Kyungsoo deadpans. "I'm leaving you. Put some pants on before you go out on the balcony, okay? See you later."
Sehun huffs at the door as it closes, and rolls over to stare at the ceiling for a moment before texting Kyungsoo.
if rly cute pls take butt cam inquire as to 3somes
Kyungsoo replies a minute later. no. and i'm not kidding, put on pants before going outside.
Sehun replies with an i do what i want, then immediately rolls off the sofa to pull on some sweatpants and grab his brushes before getting sidetracked by the rumpled blankets on the bed. It manages to capture him for an hour-long nap and he wastes another half hour after that alternatively dozing and thinking about getting up, eventually remembering that he has work that evening so his time to paint is limited.
There's a thick line of clouds just near the tops of the surrounding buildings when he finally nudges open the sliding door with one hip - canvas under one arm, a handful of brushes in one hand, and a basket with all his paint tubes in the other - and Sehun takes a minute to admire the contrast between the sunny brandeis blue on his left and the deep gray lavenders trickling into ashy mauvine around the simmering stormclouds on his right. This isn't the big storm they're predicting yet, but they're certainly the evidence that the season has started. Sehun sets down the basket while he squints at the buildings around, trying to decide exactly how to frame this first painting, lifting the lid off the weathertight tub that holds his easel with one foot and setting it up one-handed before propping up the canvas. Sehun never does anything by halves, and he decided back when he came up with the idea for this project that he was going to be doing this series in oil paints rather than acrylic. He'd worked with oils while he was back in school, of course, oil being the traditional medium for painting, but he'd decided soon after that acrylic worked best for his own purposes and had proceeded to abandon oils as soon as they were no longer required. The result being that now he's sadly out of practice and struggling to remember the minute rules. The rabbit glue gesso takes much longer to dry than the stuff he tends to use, so Sehun had bought a canvas that came already primed to use for his first painting, just in case the ideal moment came before his own were ready to use. He mixes colors fast, thinning out the thick oil pigment so that he can quickly block out the shapes of the buildings in a midtone gray before setting to work on painting the sky itself; the clouds are apt to change at a moment's notice, so he wants to get as much of the basic shape laid out on the canvas as he can.
The paints handle differently than Sehun is used to, which makes it slow going for a while. By the time he has to stop he's made slightly less progress than he had hoped for, but he's got enough of a base to work off of tomorrow, so the thought doesn't bother him as much as it might otherwise. What does bother him is the fact that he's about to clean up to head off to work and Kyungsoo still isn't home. Sehun's shift runs late, and if he doesn't see his boyfriend before he leaves, he's unlikely to catch him awake for the rest of the day. He lingers around until the last possible moment, but eventually has to swallow his disappointment and lock the door to the empty apartment before taking the stairs two or three at a time to get to the restaurant before his boss is provoked into one of her famously long rants. (The turnover in thin-skinned staff is legendary among the restaurants of the area.) It's luckily just a block and a half away, so Sehun makes it there in time, even if he's out of breath, and he spends nearly his entire shift watching the rain set in, counting down the minutes before he can head home again. The apartment is dark when he finally gets back. Sehun peels off his rainsoaked clothes and leaves them in a pile on the floor that he knows Kyungsoo will glare at later, before climbing under the covers and cuddling up close to the nearest heat source. Kyungsoo groans and tries to push his icy feet away, eventually giving in and rolling over to wrap his arms around Sehun. It's not as good as actual conscious interaction, but Sehun will take what he can get.
The next day starts off frustrating and only gets worse. Kyungsoo does indeed have something to say about the pile of clothes on the floor, namely, "are you five years old? Oh my god, they're still wet- Stop acting like an attention-seeking toddler, for fucks sake, Sehun, you're twenty-two years old." Having said this, he stalks off to the kitchen to bang coffee mugs down onto the counter, making Sehun wonder guiltily just how late he'd stayed at the office last night. He tries to smooth the situation over by meekly asking about Kyungsoo's day, and ends up gritting his teeth through what feels like borrowed opinions repeated verbatim, each one prefaced with "Junmyeon-ssi said-" or "Junmyeon-ssi told me that-"
"I didn't ask what Junmyeon-ssi thought about the view from your window; I asked what you thought," Sehun mutters, earning a smack upside the head.
Kyungsoo heads back out right after breakfast, leaving Sehun to putter around the living room until finally settling down to pick up his painting where he left off the day before. This ends up turning into an exercise in frustration. Each brush stroke seems to do nothing but mar the painting further, until Sehun finally snaps, the paintbrush following soon afterwards. He flings the broken halves off the edge of the balcony with a strangled yell before quickly ducking away from the edge in case someone looks up. Sehun sinks down to sit with his back to the sliding glass door as a drop of sweat makes its way down from his hairline, eventually hanging off the edge of his jaw until he brushes it away irritably. The rain has done nothing to cut down the heat, so the supersaturated air lies over his face like a hot blanket. The weather is obviously playing merry hell with everyone's mood, Sehun thinks. He ends up sitting in front of the tv with a fan going next to him at full blast all day, eating every popsicle in the house and feeling bad about it even as he unwraps the last one. By the time Kyungsoo gets home again, this time early enough to see Sehun before he leaves once again for his night job, Sehun feels positively contrite. Enough to smile pleasantly as Kyungsoo tells him about another day spent in the delightful company of Kim Junmyeon. Kim Junmyeon, who apparently knows literally everyone in the company and is the darling of the management board. Kim Junmyeon, who has the most contacts in the building industry out of the entire publicity department, and who can win over the most dubious of potential clients with his dazzling smile, and who is- coming over for dinner tomorrow?
"What?" says Sehun, feeling particularly clever.
"I'd like you to meet him, you know?" Kyungsoo says, unconcerned. "He's a really nice guy, and I think you might like to get to know him."
"This is all moving a little fast, isn't it?" Sehun asks, and is met with an eye roll.
"It's not like you're supposed to date him or anything," laughs Kyungsoo.
"God, I hope not," Sehun mumbles under his breath.
"Anyway, how's the painting going?"
Sehun groans and slouches lower in his seat.
"That bad, huh?" Kyungsoo sounds sympathetic. "Have you tried getting any books about painting with oils? It might help to remind you how to go about it, even if you can't have an actual expert standing by to help?"
"No," says Sehun. "I mean, I googled it, but I figured I'd just work it out for myself. It's just not going as fast as I hoped it would. And who says I'm not an expert anyway?"
"Well, expert, if you're pressed for time, you really might think about getting a book or two," Kyungsoo suggests mildly.
"Books are your solution to everything," Sehun sighs, but the next day ends up wandering down the nearby streets in search of any place with books of a vaguely painting nature.
He ends up wandering into a small used bookstore tucked between a coffee shop and a laundromat where he picks up what essentially looks like "Oil Painting For Dummies" and, on a whim, a biography of J. M. W. Turner. The cashier unfolds from an impressive slouch as Sehun approaches and gives him a little smile.
"Hey," he says. "Did you find whatever you were looking for?"
Sehun nods, rummaging through his pockets absentmindedly for the loose bills he'd stuffed in there. When he looks up, it's to see a pair of warm brown eyes still regarding him with interest. Sehun is pretty sure he'd checked that there was no paint on his face before he left, but he's been wrong before.
"What?" he blurts out after an awkward moment.
"Oh!" The cashier seems realize he'd been standing there and looks away, embarrassed, a faint pink spreading over his tanned skin. "I mean- It's just- I haven't seen you here before."
"Oh," Sehun isn't sure if he's supposed to introduce himself or what. "Yeah. It's the closest bookstore? I was looking for a book."
Another awkward pause before-
"My name's Jongin."
Ah. Introductions are the right answer.
"I'm Sehun," he says, and then, because that seems weirdly abrupt, "I'm kind of a painter, I guess."
Jongin looks down at the two books on the counter.
"Really?" he deadpans. "And here I was going to guess engineer."
Sehun snorts and that seems to have broken the ice a bit because Jongin relaxes and gives him another little smile.
"Trying something new?" Jongin asks, nodding at the books while he punches numbers into the register.
"Yeah," Sehun stares at the glossy reproduction of Rain, Steam and Speed on the biography cover. "It's... not going so well."
"Well, if my books can't help the struggling artist, nothing can," Jongin's mouth closes around the words like he's regretted them as soon as he spoke, but he presses on a second later. "If you don't mind, I'd love to hear what the end results are."
"Ugh, the way things are going, no one is going to want to see the end result."
Jongin gives him a little fist pump as he hands over the paper bag with the books. "Fighting!"
Sehun rolls his eyes, but finds himself smiling back anyway. He lets out a hiss when the bag shifts and leaves a paper cut on his hand, sending Jongin diving beneath the counter at lightning speed.
"I can fix that!" he emerges holding a bandaid triumphantly.
He was planning to get one on his own when he gets home, since Kyungsoo keeps Hulk bandaids to put on tiny injuries that he thinks Sehun is making too much of a fuss over, but Sehun's hand is tightly in Jongin's grip before he can say anything.
"You have no idea how many times I cut myself on these bags every day."
Jongin wiggles his own fingers to show off the two bandaids of his own. "There, now we're bandaid buddies."
Sehun looks back and forth between the grinning Jongin and his newly bandaged finger. How do you even react when someone you've met five minutes ago grabs your hand and plasters a... Superman bandaid on it? He shifts his weight from one foot to the other in lieu of responding. Jongin clears his throat and brushes the bandage wrapper off the counter.
"Can't damage the talented painter hands, you know," he says.
"Oh."
Sehun continues to look at the bandaid.
"Well," he says, "I should get going. Paint stuff. Um. Thanks."
"Yes," says Jongin, sounding every bit as uncomfortable as Sehun feels. "Good luck. With the painting things."
Sehun waves as he pulls the door open, and it's not until he's outside and halfway home that he realizes that not only had that been the most painfully awkward conversation he'd had in entire years, but that Jongin had probably certainly been hitting on him the entire time. He groans and rubs his face. Way to be perceptive, Sehun. Time to forget any of that had ever happened. Time to go home and- ... and get ready for their dinner guest. Because this day could not possibly get any better. Sehun makes up his mind right then and there that at the very least he is going to demand that Kyungsoo kiss his finger better.
When he gets back, Kyungsoo is already home and stirring something in a pot, so Sehun simply stands in the doorway and watches for a second.
"This is so domestic I could cry," he says, coming to peer over his shoulder at the stove. He's not entirely sure things have cooled down from the day before, but the way Kyungsoo is humming distractedly while sniffing the various spice bottles is encouraging.
"Well, here's your opportunity," Kyungsoo hands him a grocery bag off the kitchen counter. "Chop onions and cry all you want."
"I'm injured," Sehun whines, holding up his finger as proof. "I can't chop anything."
Kyungsoo eyes the bandaged finger.
"Who told you you could bring that DC scum into this house of Marvel?" he demands. "Chop onions now, as punishment for your blasphemy."
Sehun can feel himself settling down into their usual easy banter again, the tense mood that had been hanging over them for the past day peeling away like the papery onion skins under his fingers, and he nudges Kyungsoo gently with his hip as he comes to stand at the cutting board next to him.
"Hey," he says. Kyungsoo glances over out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry for being a slob."
"Mm. Sorry for being a nag."
They work in companionable silence for a moment. Sehun chops the onions into quarters, then stops and glances between them and the pot.
"How do you want these cut?" he asks. "I have no idea what you're making."
"We're just having chicken with a sauce kind of thing. If I can figure it out," Kyungsoo frowns into the pot. "I dunno, chop it small enough that you'd be okay with putting into your mouth."
"It's food," Sehun points out. "There is very little food I will not put in my mouth. This is not the most helpful instruction you could give me."
Kyungsoo sighs and bumps him out of the way, taking the knife and onion into his own hands.
"Here, just do this."
Sehun's slices are far clumsier and irregular than Kyungsoo's, but they seem to pass muster since Kyungsoo nods and turns back to the pot where he appears to be very slowly melting butter. Sehun starts sniffing and blinking before too long, the sharp onions making his eyes water.
"I can't do this," he complains. "I don't have glass eyeballs like you."
"You're being an infant."
"It hurts. It's getting all in my paper cut."
Sehun drops the knife. He takes a step back, scrubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands.
"No, I actually can't," he says. "This is the worst."
He blinks a couple times to see Kyungsoo standing in front of him. Kyungsoo takes his hands and pulls them away from his face.
"Don't rub it into your eyes, idiot," he says. "Is it really getting in your cut?"
"Yes," Sehun pouts.
Kyungsoo brings the bandaged finger to his lips to make the loudest, most obnoxious smacking kiss he can, and then laughs at Sehun's face.
"My eyes hurt too," Sehun points out.
"If you think I'm going to put my mouth on your eyeballs, you'd better think again," Kyungsoo grimaces, but pulls Sehun down by the back of his neck to plant a kiss on each eyelid anyway.
Kyungsoo ends up finishing the onions and most of the other cooking-related tasks, banishing Sehun off to the side to toss lettuce with some olive oil, where he can't hurt himself. By the time the doorbell rings, Sehun is actually in a good mood and prepared to give this Junmyeon guy a chance. This is why when Kyungsoo opens the door and is greeted by a guy with a way too genuine smile, far too many compliments about the apartment decor, and a bottle of way too expensive wine, Sehun is able to continue setting the table in relative peace, only ruffled slightly by the enthusiastic one-armed hug he witnesses through the door into the hallway. He arranges his face into the absolute most pleasant expression he is capable of making (which, granted, often comes across as "attractively bored" but Kyungsoo always seems to find that either endearing or hilarious, so that's okay) before coming out into the living room. The look Junmyeon gives him can only be described as appraising, and Sehun bristles again as he gets the distinct impression he's being pleasantly examined and found wanting before Junmyeon comes forward, all eye smiles and polite greetings, to shake his hand. Sehun notices rather unkindly that his tie is completely the wrong color for the shirt he's wearing, and that he's mixing two patterns that should really never be worn together.
"You must be Sehun," Junmyeon makes a perfect bow, "Nice to meet you. You're Kyungsoo's roommate?"
"His boyfriend," says Sehun icily.
To his credit, Junmyeon only freezes for a second.
"Ah, really?" He recovers rather gracefully, Sehun thinks. "Kyungsoo has mentioned you a few times, but we haven't really gotten to know each other very well yet."
"How wonderful," Sehun smiles, earning a warning glare from Kyungsoo, who mouths be polite from across the room.
"Well. If you'll get glasses, maybe we can try some of the wine before dinner?" Junmyeon's attempt to change the topic does not achieve the desired effect, since Sehun only grinds his teeth and stares daggers when Kyungsoo hurries out of the room.
Junmyeon's eyebrows rise in confusion when he comes back holding three glasses.
"He's old enough to drink?" Junmyeon asks.
"He is," Sehun snaps, taking the glasses and pouring the wine himself. "Would you care to check ID?"
"Sehun, manners," Kyungsoo hisses.
"I'll use them if he does," mutters Sehun in reply. Kyungsoo looks upset.
Sehun does nothing to alleviate the situation, instead choosing to stare over the rim of his glass at Junmyeon and disagree with everything he says, even if only inside his own head. By the time they sit down to eat and Junmyeon reaches for the pepper, Sehun has already made up his mind that he loathes him with a fiery passion. Kyungsoo's hand on Sehun's knee keeps him quiet throughout dinner, but this gives him time to observe how Junmyeon laughs at everything Kyungsoo says, how he easily takes over the table as if he's known them for years, and how completely and thoroughly he ignores Sehun's presence. In fact, Junmyeon spends so much time ignoring him that when he finally addresses him with a remark, Sehun doesn't immediately notice.
"What?" he says, blinking.
"I just asked what you do for a living?" Junmyeon repeats.
"Oh. I'm... a painter."
"Really?" Junmyeon looks around. "You must have done some of the paintings in here then."
He nods towards "501 Main Street" and Sehun feels positively amiable for a second.
"He's very good," Kyungsoo says, patting his leg with a sideways smile.
"He must be, to make painting lucrative," Junmyeon's face shows nothing but calm interest. "I'd always heard that it's hard for even the best painters to make a living doing that, but you manage to keep an apartment like this. I'm very impressed."
Sehun feels something like ice trickle down his spine and through all his limbs as he thinks of all the rent checks with Kyungsoo's name and signature on them. Junmyeon is still looking at him with cheerful expectation.
"I actually have a job at a restaurant too," Sehun says, angry at his inability to look anywhere but at his plate.
"Sehun works very hard," says Kyungsoo, kindly not mentioning the times he's called Sehun's phone at noon and found him still asleep. Sehun doesn't feel like eating anymore.
Junmyeon doesn't stay long after dinner, which suits Sehun just fine. He stays back near the table while Kyungsoo shows Junmyeon out, waiting to hear the door click shut before he goes out into the hall.
"I don't like him," he says, with no preamble.
Kyungsoo sighs tiredly. "You know, I think I got that."
He waves a despairing hand at Sehun.
"And I'm pretty sure he got that too. Would it have killed you to be polite to him?"
Sehun's jaw drops.
"Were you even listening?" he demands. "Did you hear what he was saying? He treated me like a little kid the entire time!"
"You were acting like a little kid," Kyungsoo says.
The urge to say "he started it" is almost overwhelming, but Sehun can see that that would not exactly help his case.
"What about when he was talking about my paintings?" he says instead. "All that about how even really great painters have trouble making enough money? It's like he was trying to get me either to boast about how wildly successful I am or admit that I'm leeching off your paycheck. There was no way to win that!"
"I think your problem is that you're thinking of it as something you have to 'win' in the first place."
Kyungsoo runs both hands through his hair, the layer of sweat that's covering them both in the muggy weather leaving it standing up in wild flyaways. Sehun is very glad he had not done this until after Junmyeon left, because he's sure no one could ever fail to fall just as hard for a distracted Kyungsoo as Sehun does himself, and he has this vague feeling that Kyungsoo would have objected to him attempting to blind Junmyeon with a spoon.
"He was treating you like his wife or something," Sehun grumbled. "How did that not bother you? He acted like it was his own house from the minute he walked in."
Kyungsoo just fixes him with a look.
"Is this about you being jealous?" he asks, making Sehun cringe. "What, he wasn't respecting your manly claim or anything? Because if you're about to tell me that that's the reason you spent all evening glaring, I swear-"
"What 'manly claim'?" Sehun mutters, flushing slightly. Kyungsoo stops and looks at him.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," he rolls his eyes. "Yes, I see your point."
Sehun is acutely embarrassed, but the topic seems to be moving along less infuriating paths now, so he does his best to both look contrite and continue diverting Kyungsoo's attention.
"Do you want help doing the dishes, hyung?" he asks.
"Well, I know that's something Oh Sehun would never ask without an ulterior motive, but I'll take what I can get."
Kyungsoo graciously accepts Sehun's unspoken apology without another word. Sehun makes it a point to get more soap suds on Kyungsoo than on the dishes, trying to argue that it's too hot to scald their hands off without staying properly hydrated, to which Kyungsoo argues that "this does not count as staying hydrated at all, Sehun, do you even know the meaning of the word?" Sehun responds by flicking the water off of his hands onto Kyungsoo's face. The dishes take twice as long to do with two people working, which Kyungsoo points out is counterproductive, but Sehun knows he actually prefers it this way.
Sehun manages to finish that first painting over the next few days, poking at it with the palette he keeps stored in a tub of clean water to keep the paints from drying out. (Kyungsoo had vetoed using the kitchen sink for this purpose.) Kyungsoo is in and out during that time, apparently attending meetings and making connections that will help him later on, according to Junmyeon. Junmyeon, along with his ever-helpful advice, continues to figure in their conversations more than Sehun would like, though Kyungsoo makes a noticeable effort to refer to him less and Sehun attempts to respond neutrally when he does. Nothing Kyungsoo can say makes him like Junmyeon any better, however. Sehun honestly wonders how Kyungsoo can still think so well of him after witnessing what Sehun thought was the most disastrous meeting possible, yet Kyungsoo seems to attribute anything off about Junmyeon's conduct to Sehun's behavior. They have a few not-quite-arguments on this point, but since Junmyeon has been declared a sort of no man's land in their conversation, Sehun can only simmer quietly while Kyungsoo continues to meet potential future clients with his new mentor.
Once the painting is finished, Sehun has nothing much to do except go back to watching daytime dramas in front of three oscillating fans, eating ice cream out of the tub while he checks the weather. Kyungsoo texts him from work at least once a day with some variation of I heard a cold front might be moving in nearby- don't give up yet, Sehunnie! before heading into interminable meetings all over town. If Sehun were to admit the reasons for his still-growing dislike of Junmyeon, it would be at least partially because the sudden explosion in Kyungsoo's schedule made it close to impossible to hold a conversation longer than fifteen minutes at a time. Sehun finds himself taking buses and trains over to Kyungsoo's office several times to eat lunch together, but he knows that when the next storm rolls in, his vast tracts of free time will disappear for a while. Still, this is just temporary, Sehun tells himself. Once Kyungsoo gets a contract, he can sit around the house to sketch floorplans and make little experimental models on the living room carpet, where, if he has anything to say about it, Junmyeon will not be welcome.
By the end of the week, a morning dawns gray and promisingly overcast. Sehun presses his nose to the window glass, prompting Kyungsoo to call him a kid in a candy store window. Sehun looks over his shoulder to stick out his tongue at Kyungsoo, who is still wrapped in wrinkled sheets and laughing at him from the bed. When he finally opens the windows, Sehun can smell the ozone through the thick, hot air. He checks the weather report on his phone for confirmation, even though the heavy line of clouds lying dark on the horizon is proof enough of the oncoming storm for him to start laying out all of his supplies. Kyungsoo has a late start that morning, which he spends alternating between watching Sehun running around with a canvas under his arm and running around himself to make sure his portfolio is pulled together with all the material he'll need for today's big meeting. When Sehun asks him why he is freaking out about meeting someone after spending all week doing exactly the same thing, Kyungsoo makes a strangled noise of pure panicked misery.
"It's not exactly the same," he groans. "This man is actively looking for someone to design a project. Whether or not our firm gets this contract depends completely on how much I impress him today."
"Well," Sehun comes up behind him to wrap arms around his waist, "Think of it like this... If he looks at your stuff and doesn't want to hire you, you'd probably hate working with him anyway and he's dumb and you're brilliant so fuck him, man."
Kyungsoo laughs at that, the sound easing some of the sympathetic tension that had settled over Sehun just as Sehun can feel some of that same tension draining out of the man in his arms. He pokes the side of Kyungsoo's neck with his nose.
"It'll be okay. You'll do great," he assures him.
"Hmm, at least one of us is confident on that point." Kyungsoo turns in his arms and stands on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I'll do my best."
"What time do you have to leave here to meet this asshole?" Sehun asks.
"Well, it's about a two-hour drive each way, so Junmyeon-ssi is driving me from the office building in about an hour and a half..."
"Oh," Sehun frowns. "What time are you meeting that asshole then?"
"Sehun." Kyungsoo's tone is warning.
"Okay, okay," Sehun holds up his hands in surrender. "I mean, what time are you leaving here?"
"About twenty minutes, I think? I want to be sure I catch the right bus. Painting looks good today, right?"
"Mmhm." Sehun hums in agreement, looking out towards the balcony door at the ever-growing dark streak on the horizon. "I don't think it's supposed to hit until late this afternoon, but it should be around for a while then. They said this one was slow."
"You have a canvas ready?"
Sehun nods. He's spent some of the downtime over the past few days both stretching and preparing canvasses and flipping through the books he'd bought.
"Yeah, I have everything set up to go whenever the storm actually hits."
Kyungsoo rummages around under the kitchen sink then tosses Sehun the box of heavy garbage bags he unearths. "Here. If it gets too wet to stand outside and paint, you can throw those down on the floor so you can leave the doors open without causing too much water damage."
"Awesome. Thanks." Sehun tosses the box over his shoulder, where it lands neatly on the sofa. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"
The response he gets is noncommittal, which means no, so Sehun grabs a bagel, slathers it with cream cheese, and shoves it in Kyungsoo's face. Kyungsoo just looks at it cross-eyed.
"How am I supposed to eat that?" he says. "If I bite into it, its creamy guts will come pouring out the other side."
"You have to eat," Sehun waves the bagel in little circles before his nose. "You have hours of travel time today."
"Did you have to put half the tub of cream cheese on there?" complains Kyungsoo, but he accepts the bagel anyway. "What are you, Condiment Man? That's gross."
"Stop complaining and eat. You'll get sick if you don't."
"Yes, mother." Kyungsoo stops and gives a dramatic shudder. "You know, I think this relationship is getting way more Oedipal than I'm personally comfortable with."
Sehun considers this. "Yeah, that's kinda creepy. Eat it because you love me then."
"I'm positively drowning in your love," Kyungsoo looks down at the bagel again. "Or maybe just cream cheese. It's hard to tell with you sometimes."
"Eat and get on the damned bus already, before I attempt to make dinner too," Sehun threatens, and Kyungsoo laughs at him through a mouthful of baked goods.
Kyungsoo checks his files three more times before he makes it out the door, leaving Sehun standing in the middle of the room and stretching his arms high above his head with a yawn. Sehun finds that most shows are incredibly hard to follow when one is distracted every five minutes listening for thunder, so he turns off the television within an hour of sitting down. He ends up pulling the coffee table close and lying sideways off the edge of the sofa so that his upper half is balanced over the glass of the tabletop, a dripping popsicle from their replenished store in one hand, the other hand holding open the Turner biography from the bookstore. If someone asked him, Sehun would probably be the first to say he didn't read much, but something about Turner had always pulled him in - Sehun often felt terribly terribly young compared to Kyungsoo, the people Kyungsoo worked with, and even the other painters he encountered, so hearing something about an incredibly young but successful painter does wonders to boost his confidence. He stops jumping up at every promising sound, instead becoming surprisingly engrossed in the book before him. Something about the way Turner thought of color and light reminds Sehun of Kyungsoo, he thinks. Something about the way his paintings seemed to drift further and further from the tangible physical world and became absorbed entirely with light and mist makes him think of Kyungsoo's buildings and what he'd taught Sehun about using light.
He only gets up when his stomach growls insistently a few hours later, and even then brings the book with him, eyes glued intently to the pages while he eats packaged ramyun straight out of the pot. The more he understands the technique Turner was striving for, the closer Sehun feels to knowing where he wants his own paintings to go. He lets out an audible snerk when he reads contemporary critics' complaints that the paintings looked "unfinished". Leaning his chair back on two legs, Sehun is torn between amusement and frustration when he realizes that the problems he'd been having with the previous painting were almost all due to overworking it. The old advice from his instructors to stop just at the point of "maybe a little bit more" comes belatedly flooding back into his mind. The problem with getting into the habit of working with the same subjects over and over again is that it breeds overconfidence, making it too easy to churn out finished-looking work without thinking too deeply about what the canvas actually conveys. Buildings are so concrete, and Sehun so used to painting them, that the changeable clouds of his newest project had left him floundering as he searched for a final target.
Kyungsoo's right. Books are brilliant, Sehun thinks, the secrets of the universe now laid bare to him. I love books.
A loud peal of thunder has him nearly tumbling out of his seat. The sky is black with roiling clouds now, and though no drops are falling yet, Sehun can already smell the impending rain from inside the apartment. It feels like he's only been reading for an hour by his reckoning, but when he glances at his phone the clock there gives him the lie. 5:13 in the afternoon. He's been wrapped up in his reading for at least six hours, and now that he actually thinks about it, he is pretty far in the book now...
It takes another warning rumble to jerk Sehun out of his thoughts again and propel him into motion. He grabs the bucket holding his paint tubes, flinging open the door to the balcony just as it starts to rain. Each drop looks to be about the size of a peanut, except hitting with the force of a paintball pellet at the same time. Sehun reaches down to unfold his easel and to pull the glass palette out of the large cooler he's commandeered for this purpose, hissing between his teeth as he feels the sting of pelting droplets on his back and neck, and he realizes that Kyungsoo may have had a point with the garbage bags - there's no way he'll be able to paint out here in weather like this. He lays the bags out with some duct tape to hold them down against the wind, then sizes up his subject. The light is tinted a wonderfully eerie green, while the lightning visible over the rooftops opposite has hints of almost innumerable shades. Sehun thinks that this storm was worth the days of waiting.
The painting takes quick shape under his brush, especially now with his latest flash of inspiration still rolling around at the front of his mind, and Sehun is just in the middle of layering white and hints of red around where a streak of lightning leaves the clouds when his phone buzzes, making him jerk away from the canvas to avoid smashing the bristles against it. He fumbles to flip the phone over with the backs of his paint-covered hands, paintbrush clenched in his teeth, and hits the speaker button with his elbow.
"Mwth mp?"
"Sehun?"
Oh, right. Mouth full.
"Yeah. What's up?" he tries again, this time without a mouth full of brush.
"Hi. I won't be back until late."
Kyungsoo sounds distracted. Sehun frowns, now only half paying attention to the colors he's mixing and tweaking on his palette.
"Why?"
"It's raining too hard to drive," Kyungsoo says and Sehun hears doors opening and closing on the other end. "Cars are pulled over all along the road and visibility is really bad. We were on our way back from the meeting when it hit, so we got caught on the road."
"So what are you doing now?"
"Well, Junmyeon's place is really close, so I think we're just going to stay put here until it clears up."
It's a good thing he's not holding his phone right now because a paintbrush is a hell of a lot cheaper to break, and the creaking of wood is a testament to how tight his grip is right now. His mood plummets sharply, the storm and paint all but forgotten.
“Are you painting the storm right now?” Kyungsoo asks. “It’s a really good one. I should get off and let you get back to work. I’ll see you later, okay? I don't know how long it'll last, so you don't have to wait up."
"Yes," Sehun says around the lump in his throat. "Yes, I'm painting. I'll stay up. I'll- yes."
"Don't worry about it. Just concentrate on painting and get some rest."
"Okay," Sehun repeats. "Okay. I'll see you when you get back. I'll stay up."
His phone screen goes dark as he stares blankly at the canvas before him. A low roll of thunder sounds again. His hands are trembling slightly, almost as if shaken by the sound. His thoughts feel like they're running frantically without actually getting anywhere, so Sehun carefully sets down the brush and palette before stepping out onto the balcony. He might as well have stepped into a pool, the rain coming down so hard that he's soaked through to the skin in an instant. He hadn't noticed when the sun went down, but all the streetlamps and surrounding windows are lit now, even though the pinpricks of light are almost hidden by what appears to be a thick curtain of water. Sehun is not sure he's ever been out in a storm this heavy. The air has about as much water in it as it does actual air, while the wind takes the opportunity every few seconds to send it all flying sideways with gusts that nearly bowl Sehun over. It's a good thing the railing is high enough to keep most of their belongings from being blown away, but he notices that several small potted plants have mysteriously disappeared. Luckily, no one is out on the streets to be hit with flying pottery, since apparently no one but Sehun is addled enough to stand in a storm like this at all. The sound level has gotten louder since he stepped outside, so he assumes the white noise he hears is only partially in his own head.
Kyungsoo is at Junmyeon's house, he thinks blearily.
This is fine. This is nothing to be upset about. Kyungsoo had told him that it's too dangerous to be driving right now, and the fact that Sehun can't make out distinct shapes further away than the railing's edge proves this to be true. The idea of Kyungsoo trying to brave the roads in these conditions just because Sehun doesn't like his coworker is ridiculous. It makes perfect sense to run for the nearest shelter, and Junmyeon's house would have everything they needed to wait out the storm, like warm drinks and towels and a dryer for wet clothes and-
No. Sehun crouches down, hands clutching tight at the bars of the railing. That is a train of thought that needs to stop right there. It is a perfectly normal thing to provide bedraggled guests the opportunity to dry off before they catch hypothermia. Sehun had been drenched within thirty seconds of this, and is probably about to start shivering in a second, so only a heartless monster would fail to offer at least a towel. It's courtesy between acquaintances. Sehun would do the same for Junmyeon. He hesitates then and thinks carefully about that. Junmyeon would do the same for Sehun. Probably. Maybe. According to hearsay, Junmyeon is very pleasant to people who aren't Sehun. Kyungsoo is not Sehun, nor is Sehun present, therefore Junmyeon is probably being very gracious and pleasant and-
No. This is not okay. This is not even a little bit okay. Sehun does shiver then. Kyungsoo is allowed to get along with his coworkers, so the very fact that he's reacting so violently to this makes Sehun stop and prod a little deeper into it. Kyungsoo would tell him to think about this rationally, so he takes a deep breath and thinks about Kyungsoo laughing at one of his jokes, pictures his eyes growing wide and sparkling with merriment. This is a good thing. He changes the picture, replacing himself with one of their friends from school, and finding that this is also a pleasing thought. Finally, he replaces the friend with Junmyeon. The sudden sick punch to his gut leaves Sehun gasping as he collapses backwards to sit painfully on the ground. Sehun is jealous, he realizes with horror. He's jealous of Junmyeon and of the idea that Kyungsoo might enjoy spending time with Junmyeon.
Why? he wonders miserably.
Why does the thought of Junmyeon getting close to Kyungsoo set his teeth so on edge? Why had he taken such an instant dislike to Junmyeon? Sehun watches a steady stream of water trickle in through the open door, pooling on the black garbage bags around the legs of his easel. Junmyeon is immediately likeable. Kyungsoo had spent enough time talking about him those first few days to make that clear. Kyungsoo had immediately liked Sehun too, though. They've always gotten along like a house on fire, even from day one, because Kyungsoo gets along with people. It's one of the many things Sehun has always admired and envied and loved about him, so what makes Junmyeon so different? Junmyeon had strode into the room and into control of the situation - there is a kind of effortless confidence about Junmyeon that Sehun has never been able to achieve in his life. He knows what to say at any given moment to win people over and to at their ease, while Sehun is left with awkward silences and tongue-tied stumbling faux pas. Junmyeon is poised and in control. Sehun has never been in control of his life and wouldn't even begin to know what it feels like to be anything other than lost in a sea of too many confusing, uncertain emotions. He's always counted on Kyungsoo to know what he's doing, but it now occurs to him for the first time to wonder if maybe Kyungsoo would like the burden of responsibility to fall on shoulders other than his own occasionally. The idea terrifies Sehun. Junmyeon is everything Sehun isn't, his very existence now sending Sehun into near meltdowns when he imagines a day where Kyungsoo realizes that he wants more than Sehun can give him.
It all boils down to this: Junmyeon makes Sehun feel horribly and utterly inadequate.
The revelation is not so much staggering as it is simply full of numb terror. Sehun doesn't really know how long he sits there, legs pulled tightly up to his chest with arms wrapped around his knees, but he only jerks out of his daze when the world goes strangely quiet. It's no longer raining, which means that Kyungsoo will be headed home soon. Kyungsoo will be coming home after hours of Junmyeon's pleasant, mature companionship and he will see Sehun in all his needy emotional distress and he will- what? Sehun doesn't know because, once again, he feels adrift in the ocean with no paddle and no sight of shore. His soaked clothes go into the laundry basket as he peels them off, that's one thing he does know, and the waterlogged garbage bags are taken care of with a few towels tossed over them. Sehun wraps himself in a blanket stolen off the bed and lies on the sofa, staring at the front door.
He doesn't notice falling asleep, but the soft click of the door closing startles his eyes open. He silently watches the figure fumbling around in the dim light, trying to discern anything different in his movements, anything subtle shift in his affections, as if he could read how Kyungsoo feels about Junmyeon in the way he lines his shoes up by the mat. The lights come on and Kyungsoo pauses with his hand on the switch before his eyes soften at the sight of Sehun.
"I told you not to wait up," he says.
"I wanted to see you," Sehun answers.
Kyungsoo holds out both hands with a smile.
"Come to bed."
Kyungsoo's head fits neatly under his chin as Sehun wraps him into a hug, and he molds perfectly against Sehun's chest as they settle under the blankets, and Sehun thinks that this, at least, is something he can do right.
part 2