from flame to dust
broken!kaiyeol & sekai
pg-13; 1.6k
sometimes we fall out of love
"There was a new intern at the office today," Jongin starts as he and Chanyeol settle around the dinning room table, and Chanyeol hums in response, the only sign he's listening as he twirls spaghetti around his fork. Jongin stares down at the broccoli on his plate and recalls Sehun's crescent eyes as he introduced himself, pointing proudly to the plastic pocket with his newly made company ID. Jongin's stomach had fluttered then, and he wanted to capture Sehun's triumphant giggles with his own lips.
The ID Sehun was so proud of didn't even look like him. In the photo Sehun looked so serious with his shirt tightly buttoned and his hair slicked back that Jongin had joked that maybe they'd given him the wrong ID. Jongin would be the first to admit it wasn't that good of a joke, but Sehun had laughed even harder, eyes shrinking further in amusement as his adam's apple bobbed wildly and the clenching in Jongin's stomach intensified as he watched.
He spears a piece of broccoli and the fork sinks easily into the vegetable. Chanyeol overcooked the broccoli again.
"But how was your day?" Jongin asks as he eats broccoli that is far too soft in a room that is far too quiet.
Although he's still young, there are times when Jongin feels like he's been with the company forever instead of just the past five years. Sehun, on the other hand, is painfully young and represents everything Jongin misses about college. College was when Jongin and Chanyeol took the bus down to the beach, feeling the sand scraping between their tangled legs. College was when their teeth would knock together as they kissed. College was when they intertwined fingers underneath the cafeteria table.
Jongin smiles a bit when he hears Sehun singing under his breath as he waits for the coffee to brew. Jongin came to the staff room to rinse out his tupperware container, and it should take all of five seconds but he's still standing there, running his hands over the plastic container again and again to check that there's no more food stuck to the bottom.
Sehun's eyes catch on the bracelet around Jongin's wrist and he nods to it. "Nice bracelet." He drums his fingers on the counter as he rocks on the balls of his feet.
Jongin hopes Sehun doesn't notice the flush that spills across his cheeks and the way the container nearly falls from his fingers. "Thanks," he says and his whisper is almost lost in the roar of water against the sink.
"It looks special." Sehun remarks. He tilts towards Jongin, but Jongin can't tell if Sehun's actually interested or is just making conversation to fill the time before the coffee brews.
Chanyeol gave the bracelet to Jongin for his sixteenth birthday and Jongin's heart had tightened when Chanyeol showed him the matching bracelet on his own wrist.
"It isn't really," Jongin says as he turns off the water at last, and when he smiles at the younger boy, Sehun smiles back.
It was always meant to happen. Sehun is just a catalyst of the decline.
Their past is already being washed away by a million I-can't-imagines. Or maybe the problem is that he can imagine it all too well. He sees the way the luster of their relationship dulls; kisses first becoming routine and then monotonous - a simple brush of lips to a waiting cheek.
Jongin wonders if kissing Sehun would become just as boring and sometimes he thinks about catching the younger boy's lips when he watches him speak. His lips look soft as they purse together between syllables and as his tongue flicks out it leaves a sheen of moisture across them. The gloss over his lips makes them look even more inviting and Jongin swallows the lump in his throat.
At night Jongin lies awake counting the seconds between each of Chanyeol's snores. Each time it's five seconds and Jongin muffles his face in his pillow wishing that sometimes it was six seconds.
Or even four.
Sometimes Jongin isn't sure if he loves Sehun or loves the the way being with Sehun reminds him of how he and Chanyeol used to be, back before their conversations became snatches of weather reports and feigned pleasantries over meals.
He loves the way Sehun's fingers brush lightly against his as they walk down the hall between human resources and the sales department, his hand close enough to send jolts of electricity, but far enough away that even Jongin can't pretend that they're a couple.
It's not cheating.
It can't be cheating when there's nothing left but an empty shell of a relationship barely held together by familiarities and what's always been.
And it can't be called cheating because Jongin never actually acts on his impulses to slide his palm flush against Sehun's back, to tug at his starched dress shirt. To press Sehun against the counter until the ridges of the countertop are bruised against the pale skin of his stomach.
It's not cheating but Jongin's eyes linger on Sehun's fingers as they input a new set of data and there's a thrill of excitement that burns through him as he watches the slender digits dance over the keyboard and he wants to feel those same fingers dancing over his flesh and clawing down his thighs.
"I've been having dreams," He admits when he sees Kyungsoo after work.
"What kind of dreams?" asks Kyungsoo. He swirls his drink, watching the ice cubes clink together.
Jongin recalls the feeling of boney hips beneath his thumbs and heated sighs breathed against him, and he shifts in his chair.
When Jongin doesn't reply, Kyungsoo turns to him. "How's Chanyeol?" He says as he sets his drink aside.
"Fine, he's fine." He replies despite the fact that he's barely spoken to Chanyeol this week. Chanyeol's been taking more and more hours of overtime and there are some nights he doesn't even see him at all, leaving Jongin to wonder if the other boy spent the night out or rolled into bed after Jongin was already asleep.
"Are you fine?" Kyungsoo's brow creases and Jongin remembers that Kyungsoo knows him better than he gives him credit for.
"I don't know," Jongin says honestly. When he takes a sip of his drink it's lukewarm and the ice cubes have already melted.
Sehun doesn't always smile. There are days, like today, when he stares at his computer screen trying to decipher why the numbers aren't adding up. His eyebrows bunch and there's a petulant pout to his mouth and Jongin wants to run a thumb over those lips and push them back into a smile.
"What's the problem," he says instead, leaning over Sehun's screen and his ID bumps against Sehun's shoulder.
Sehun glances over, his face easing a bit before he turns back to his computer.
"My calculations are off but..." his words fade and get lost in the numbers on the screen.
Jongin's eyes flick through the numbers. "Did you remember to factor in the discount we gave to the Hayashi group?"
"Ah," Sehun's eyes light. "I forgot." He keys in the new amount and they sigh as the total falls to the expected number. Sehun swivels in his chair and his knees brush against Jongin's leg. "Thanks."
His smile is shyly sincere and Jongin's nerves are frayed.
Tonight the peas have been boiled to mush and Jongin counts three whole sentences that pass between them before Chanyeol is reaching for his iphone and Jongin pushes his plate away.
Later when Jongin is slotting the dirty plates into the dishwasher he hears the front door to their apartment click closed.
"It's okay for things to end," Kyungsoo tells Jongin over lunch. The carbonara is all right, but not spectacular. Although the restaurant advertised authentic Italian food, the pasta lacks a particular taste and the noodles are bland in Jongin's mouth.
"But it's not like we've had a fight." Jongin's fork scrapes against his plate as he twirls the pasta onto his fork and Kyungsoo winces at the sound. "Or anything really."
"Not all relationships end in a bang," says Kyungsoo as he meticulously cuts his chicken parmesan.
Jongin watches Kyungsoo's knife saw through the meat. "I don't hate Chanyeol."
And it's true that he doesn't hate him. It's not like only Chanyeol is to blame for the half-hearted attempts at conversation and the quietness that fills the space between them. But then again, is anyone to blame at all?
"Who said you have to?" Kyungsoo sets his utensils down and Jongin realizes that Kyungsoo has already finished eating.
Glancing down at his own unfinished plate, Jongin begins to shovel pasta into his mouth and Kyungsoo says to slow down before he chokes.
Jongin first enters Sehun's apartment after a company drinking party.
It's unplanned and only happens because Jongin misses the last train. They stand watching the metal grate come down in front of the entrance to the subway and Sehun grips Jongin's arm to steady him as he asks if Jongin would like to sleep over at his house.
Jongin tries not to think about the way that Sehun's long fingers feel around his forearm, the way the bones press through his flesh, as Sehun guides him to a small apartment a few blocks away. As unsteady he was on flat ground, Jongin's even worse on the stairs. He totters dangerously far backwards more than once. After the third time, Sehun moves his hand from Jongin's arm. Instead, he winds it around Jongin's waist and Jongin shivers when the fingers graze the soft flesh above his hipbone.
The next morning Sehun makes blueberry pancakes and each side is a light golden brown. When Jongin takes a bite he finds the inside as perfectly cooked as the outside, and he smiles around his fork.
"We need to talk," Jongin says over slightly burnt waffles and Chanyeol looks up from the magazine he's reading.
"Okay."
And even if these few words signify the end, they also signify a beginning.
A/N: I wanted to write a story about falling out of love because... it happens and that's life. (sorry kaiyeol;;)
pg-13; 1.6k
sometimes we fall out of love
"There was a new intern at the office today," Jongin starts as he and Chanyeol settle around the dinning room table, and Chanyeol hums in response, the only sign he's listening as he twirls spaghetti around his fork. Jongin stares down at the broccoli on his plate and recalls Sehun's crescent eyes as he introduced himself, pointing proudly to the plastic pocket with his newly made company ID. Jongin's stomach had fluttered then, and he wanted to capture Sehun's triumphant giggles with his own lips.
The ID Sehun was so proud of didn't even look like him. In the photo Sehun looked so serious with his shirt tightly buttoned and his hair slicked back that Jongin had joked that maybe they'd given him the wrong ID. Jongin would be the first to admit it wasn't that good of a joke, but Sehun had laughed even harder, eyes shrinking further in amusement as his adam's apple bobbed wildly and the clenching in Jongin's stomach intensified as he watched.
He spears a piece of broccoli and the fork sinks easily into the vegetable. Chanyeol overcooked the broccoli again.
"But how was your day?" Jongin asks as he eats broccoli that is far too soft in a room that is far too quiet.
Although he's still young, there are times when Jongin feels like he's been with the company forever instead of just the past five years. Sehun, on the other hand, is painfully young and represents everything Jongin misses about college. College was when Jongin and Chanyeol took the bus down to the beach, feeling the sand scraping between their tangled legs. College was when their teeth would knock together as they kissed. College was when they intertwined fingers underneath the cafeteria table.
Jongin smiles a bit when he hears Sehun singing under his breath as he waits for the coffee to brew. Jongin came to the staff room to rinse out his tupperware container, and it should take all of five seconds but he's still standing there, running his hands over the plastic container again and again to check that there's no more food stuck to the bottom.
Sehun's eyes catch on the bracelet around Jongin's wrist and he nods to it. "Nice bracelet." He drums his fingers on the counter as he rocks on the balls of his feet.
Jongin hopes Sehun doesn't notice the flush that spills across his cheeks and the way the container nearly falls from his fingers. "Thanks," he says and his whisper is almost lost in the roar of water against the sink.
"It looks special." Sehun remarks. He tilts towards Jongin, but Jongin can't tell if Sehun's actually interested or is just making conversation to fill the time before the coffee brews.
Chanyeol gave the bracelet to Jongin for his sixteenth birthday and Jongin's heart had tightened when Chanyeol showed him the matching bracelet on his own wrist.
"It isn't really," Jongin says as he turns off the water at last, and when he smiles at the younger boy, Sehun smiles back.
It was always meant to happen. Sehun is just a catalyst of the decline.
Their past is already being washed away by a million I-can't-imagines. Or maybe the problem is that he can imagine it all too well. He sees the way the luster of their relationship dulls; kisses first becoming routine and then monotonous - a simple brush of lips to a waiting cheek.
Jongin wonders if kissing Sehun would become just as boring and sometimes he thinks about catching the younger boy's lips when he watches him speak. His lips look soft as they purse together between syllables and as his tongue flicks out it leaves a sheen of moisture across them. The gloss over his lips makes them look even more inviting and Jongin swallows the lump in his throat.
At night Jongin lies awake counting the seconds between each of Chanyeol's snores. Each time it's five seconds and Jongin muffles his face in his pillow wishing that sometimes it was six seconds.
Or even four.
Sometimes Jongin isn't sure if he loves Sehun or loves the the way being with Sehun reminds him of how he and Chanyeol used to be, back before their conversations became snatches of weather reports and feigned pleasantries over meals.
He loves the way Sehun's fingers brush lightly against his as they walk down the hall between human resources and the sales department, his hand close enough to send jolts of electricity, but far enough away that even Jongin can't pretend that they're a couple.
It's not cheating.
It can't be cheating when there's nothing left but an empty shell of a relationship barely held together by familiarities and what's always been.
And it can't be called cheating because Jongin never actually acts on his impulses to slide his palm flush against Sehun's back, to tug at his starched dress shirt. To press Sehun against the counter until the ridges of the countertop are bruised against the pale skin of his stomach.
It's not cheating but Jongin's eyes linger on Sehun's fingers as they input a new set of data and there's a thrill of excitement that burns through him as he watches the slender digits dance over the keyboard and he wants to feel those same fingers dancing over his flesh and clawing down his thighs.
"I've been having dreams," He admits when he sees Kyungsoo after work.
"What kind of dreams?" asks Kyungsoo. He swirls his drink, watching the ice cubes clink together.
Jongin recalls the feeling of boney hips beneath his thumbs and heated sighs breathed against him, and he shifts in his chair.
When Jongin doesn't reply, Kyungsoo turns to him. "How's Chanyeol?" He says as he sets his drink aside.
"Fine, he's fine." He replies despite the fact that he's barely spoken to Chanyeol this week. Chanyeol's been taking more and more hours of overtime and there are some nights he doesn't even see him at all, leaving Jongin to wonder if the other boy spent the night out or rolled into bed after Jongin was already asleep.
"Are you fine?" Kyungsoo's brow creases and Jongin remembers that Kyungsoo knows him better than he gives him credit for.
"I don't know," Jongin says honestly. When he takes a sip of his drink it's lukewarm and the ice cubes have already melted.
Sehun doesn't always smile. There are days, like today, when he stares at his computer screen trying to decipher why the numbers aren't adding up. His eyebrows bunch and there's a petulant pout to his mouth and Jongin wants to run a thumb over those lips and push them back into a smile.
"What's the problem," he says instead, leaning over Sehun's screen and his ID bumps against Sehun's shoulder.
Sehun glances over, his face easing a bit before he turns back to his computer.
"My calculations are off but..." his words fade and get lost in the numbers on the screen.
Jongin's eyes flick through the numbers. "Did you remember to factor in the discount we gave to the Hayashi group?"
"Ah," Sehun's eyes light. "I forgot." He keys in the new amount and they sigh as the total falls to the expected number. Sehun swivels in his chair and his knees brush against Jongin's leg. "Thanks."
His smile is shyly sincere and Jongin's nerves are frayed.
Tonight the peas have been boiled to mush and Jongin counts three whole sentences that pass between them before Chanyeol is reaching for his iphone and Jongin pushes his plate away.
Later when Jongin is slotting the dirty plates into the dishwasher he hears the front door to their apartment click closed.
"It's okay for things to end," Kyungsoo tells Jongin over lunch. The carbonara is all right, but not spectacular. Although the restaurant advertised authentic Italian food, the pasta lacks a particular taste and the noodles are bland in Jongin's mouth.
"But it's not like we've had a fight." Jongin's fork scrapes against his plate as he twirls the pasta onto his fork and Kyungsoo winces at the sound. "Or anything really."
"Not all relationships end in a bang," says Kyungsoo as he meticulously cuts his chicken parmesan.
Jongin watches Kyungsoo's knife saw through the meat. "I don't hate Chanyeol."
And it's true that he doesn't hate him. It's not like only Chanyeol is to blame for the half-hearted attempts at conversation and the quietness that fills the space between them. But then again, is anyone to blame at all?
"Who said you have to?" Kyungsoo sets his utensils down and Jongin realizes that Kyungsoo has already finished eating.
Glancing down at his own unfinished plate, Jongin begins to shovel pasta into his mouth and Kyungsoo says to slow down before he chokes.
Jongin first enters Sehun's apartment after a company drinking party.
It's unplanned and only happens because Jongin misses the last train. They stand watching the metal grate come down in front of the entrance to the subway and Sehun grips Jongin's arm to steady him as he asks if Jongin would like to sleep over at his house.
Jongin tries not to think about the way that Sehun's long fingers feel around his forearm, the way the bones press through his flesh, as Sehun guides him to a small apartment a few blocks away. As unsteady he was on flat ground, Jongin's even worse on the stairs. He totters dangerously far backwards more than once. After the third time, Sehun moves his hand from Jongin's arm. Instead, he winds it around Jongin's waist and Jongin shivers when the fingers graze the soft flesh above his hipbone.
The next morning Sehun makes blueberry pancakes and each side is a light golden brown. When Jongin takes a bite he finds the inside as perfectly cooked as the outside, and he smiles around his fork.
"We need to talk," Jongin says over slightly burnt waffles and Chanyeol looks up from the magazine he's reading.
"Okay."
And even if these few words signify the end, they also signify a beginning.
A/N: I wanted to write a story about falling out of love because... it happens and that's life. (sorry kaiyeol;;)