COLD FINGERS for EVERYONE
For: EVERYONE
Title: Cold Fingers
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Minseok
Rating: PG
Warnings: one main character is a ghost, brief mention of bones
Length: ~2228 words
Summary: There's someone who visits Chanyeol at night.
Author's note: kid!au
"There's a ghost in my closet."
Chanyeol made the announcement at the raucous dinner table on Friday night.
Mommy was busy cutting up his sister's chicken and wasn't paying attention to him or to daddy, who was sneaking the cats dark meat under the table. Chanyeol nodded in approval. Cats who ate dark meat didn't get fat. He was about to continue eating when Grandpa caught his attention by stage-winking, meaning that even if the rest of the family didn't notice, the neighbours across the street who had a bad habit of leaving their bedroom blinds open certainly did.
"See me after supper," he stage-whispered, his enthusiasm snuffing out the nearby candle. Grandma turned and glared, and that was the end of the supper conversation.
But after he'd been forced to help wipe plates while his sister was allowed to go play the piano - he grumbled the whole time because everyone knew she was terrible at it and wouldn't amount to anything, even the piano teacher said so and the piano teacher was nice to everybody - he snuck off to the den to visit grandpa in his winged armchair by the fire.
Grandpa beckoned for him to come closer; he didn't really want to because grandpa smoked cigars which was kind of stinky and made his throat hurt, but there was the promise of a story and Chanyeol loved stories, especially if his sister didn't get to hear them.
Sitting down on grandpa's bony lap, he picked up the cat Mr. Muffin and patted him absentmindedly as grandpa began his tale.
"Now when I was a boy about your age," he began, his voice deep and raspy from too many cigars over the years - Chanyeol though it sounded mysterious - "I had some strange things happen to me. I used to sleep in the room that you have now, and sometimes when I was just waking up or just going to sleep I would see something out of the corner of my eye."
He paused for dramatic effect, letting the ashes fall from his cigar into the ashtray. Mr. Muffin wrinkled his pink nose in disgust and Chanyeol secretly agreed. Oh well.
"One time, I even though I saw a face..." There was a far away look in his eyes. Chanyeol peered at them, curious, but grandpa gave his head a small shake and continued.
"I asked my grandma but she was always busy with her book club and wine club and gardening club, so I asked the housekeeper instead."
Chanyeol nodded in agreement. Everyone knew that it was the servants who knew what really went on.
"She didn't know very much but she said there was maybe a small boy who had lived here before my grandpa bought the house and built the extra wings. But the boy had disappeared and that was why the family had sold the house and moved away."
Chanyeol shivered deliciously. He loved ghost stories, especially ones that were real.
"After thinking about it for a little bit, she told me that he had maybe slept in the same room that was mine back then, but she wasn't sure. I was going to ask her some more but I could hear my mother coming and I knew she didn't approve of me talking to the help so I ran away down the hall."
Chanyeol frowned. He didn't know much about how servants were treated back before he was born, but he didn't very much like how it sounded like his great-grandmother had acted. That's mean.
His grandpa smoked his cigar pensively. The fire crackled in the fireplace.
"What happened then?" Chanyeol was too curious to let the story slide. After all, this was his bedroom that was being discussed.
His grandpa took a last drag of his cigar before tapping off the ashes, causing Chanyeol to cough into his jacket sleeve.
"I got the idea from a book I had read. I spread out talcum powder under the windows and in the doorway to catch someone if they were pretending to be a ghost."
Chanyeol nodded along - it sounded quite clever.
"Did you catch them?" He was really curious by now, heels kicking the upholstery in excitement. Mr. Muffin lifted his head to glare at the boy reproachfully before jumping off his lap to move to a quieter napping place.
His grandpa only sighed, the sound full of regret. Chanyeol unconsciously held his breath.
"There weren't any prints in the powder," he explained, "but there was a message written in my diary the next morning, and I didn't recognize the writing."
Chanyeol wrapped his fingers up in the fabric of his grandpa's merino sweater. The story was getting almost too interesting by now; he wasn't sure whether he'd be able to sleep tonight.
"Did you see the boy?" He both wanted the answer and didn't want it.
"No." His grandpa sighed, snuffing the end of the cigar in the ashtray, leaving it a smoking crumble of ashes. "I never even caught a glimpse after that." Chanyeol breathed out an unconscious sigh of relief.
"What did the message say?" Chanyeol felt a little safer, now that there wasn't any real danger of ghosts. He bounced a little and tried to convince Mr. Muffin to climb back into his lap but the cat remained aloof. Fine, be grumpy.
"It said 'Nice try'," his grandpa chuckled. He shook his head in amused disbelief. "I always thought it was a prank but my brothers would never own up to it." He paused, fingers hovering pensively over the pair of reading glasses sitting on the end table. "Come to think of it, they were at camp that summer so it couldn't have been them." He shrugged, but Chanyeol was electrified to the spot.
What if it's real?
He was just lifting his hand to tug on his grandpa's sleeve to beg for more of the story, there had to be something, right? But just then Yura came waltzing in demanding to be allowed to sit on grandpa's lap as well and the moment was lost.
I'm not sharing.
He sat on the hearth rug, sipping hot cocoa and sulking, and his sister didn't even have have the decency to notice, prattling to grandma and grandpa about her piano recital that no one would even want to go to.
He went up to bed with a full stomach and a frown on his usually cheerful face.
"Hey."
Chanyeol tossed and turned in his sleep.
"Hey."
He woke with a start, cold fingers on his shoulder.
Cold fingers -
He was too frightened to scream, peering over the top of his comforter to see -
There was a boy sitting on the end of his bed.
A boy that he could see through.
He screamed anyway.
There were pounding feet and crashing doors and his mother rushed in, flustered, followed by grandma and grandpa and Yura, grumbling about being woken up, and in all the commotion by the time he looked back at the boy there was no one there.
"There was a ghost in my room!"
No one believed him except for grandpa, who only shook his head.
The next night he went to sleep with the light on, sneaking out of bed to flick the switch after hearing his mother close the door after her habitual check on the children before turning in for the night.
Chanyeol tried to keep his eyes open, even considering climbing out of bed to find some matchsticks when his eyes started to droop when -
He woke with a start, a cold finger poking his cheek.
"Shhh."
Wide-eyed, he stared at the boy sitting on his bed.
"Don't scream okay?" The boy looked almost...sad. Chanyeol found himself nodding without even realizing it.
You dummy.
"Are you dead?" he whispered, then clapped his hand over his mouth in shock at his temerity.
Oh no!
But the boy only giggled at his fright.
"Yup!" he nodded, smirking. "My name is Minseok by the way."
"I'm -"
"Yes, you're Chanyeol, I already know." Minseok interrupted him with a grin.
How do you know my name?
"I know everything about my families," the ghost boy continued.
"Your families?" Chanyeol sputtered in confusion.
"Yes," Minseok stated, matter-of-fact. "It's my house, after all."
"What makes it your house?" Chanyeol forgot to be circumspect in his puzzlement. My family is my family, not your family.
"Because I can't leave." The boy sounded sad. Chnayeol almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Chanyeol wanted to ask the boy more questions - Who are you? Why are you talking to me? - but he heard a door slam somewhere in the recesses of the house and when he looked back, Minseok was gone.
The next night he didn't bother with the lights, waking up immediately with the first cold touch on his face.
It's kind of tingly.
Minseok glowed faintly in the dark and Chanyeol was fascinated, unconsciously reaching out a hand to -
Minseok startled him by flinging himself out of reach.
"You can't touch me." He didn't explain why, and Chanyeol didn't dare ask.
The sat, two boys on opposite sides of the bed in the dark, the crumpled bedclothes between them.
"Why are you here?" His voice came out as a whisper.
Minseok was looking at him, but it felt like he was seeing something else.
"I need your help."
He looked so wan and helpless, knees tucked under his chin in the dark, moonlight pooling in his milky collarbones. Chanyeol nodded.
Minseok got off the bed, unfolding his slender limbs, and led him to the rickety attic stairs that Chanyeol wasn't allowed to use.
"I'm not allowed up there," he tried to explain, but Minseok only grasped him by the hand. A frisson of electricity poured across his skin and he shivered with something that wasn't fear.
"Come on."
He didn't have to be asked twice.
They crept up the narrow steps, the rotten floorboards creaking dreadfully under Chanyeol's slippers but not even sighing when Minseok's small white feet touched their knotted surface.
The attic wasn't as dark as Chanyeol had been expecting, moonlight pouring through the gable windows to cast beams of dancing dust across the space. A breeze lifted the curls over his forehead.
Minseok stopped, standing in the centre of the room.
"What - ?"
The boy cut him off with a glance before stepping forward slowly. Chanyeol trailed a few steps behind.
There was a wide blank space of plaster, bare of the trunks and cases obscuring the rest of the walls. Minseok stopped in front of it, running a finger in a sad dance across the dusty surface.
"Here," he whispered, and somehow Chanyeol understood.
He cast his eye over the piles of boxes and crates, settling on the object he was unconsciously looking for.
An axe.
Why is there an axe in my attic?
His curiosity trailed behind his slippered feet which were already treading carefully over the spongy floorboards to retrieve the tool.
Minseok watched as he struggled to swing the axe with small arms.
thud
Cracks ran out through the plaster, radiating from the point of impact as white dust filled the air.
Chanyeol coughed.
Minseok looked even more transparent.
thud
Pieces of the wall began to fall away with each swing.
His arms ached.
With a last dull moan, the wall collapsed outwards.
As the attic floor collapsed under his feet, dropping Chanyeol down to the floor below, he caught a glimpse of the outline of bones in the space hidden behind the wall he had just destroyed.
But the last thing he saw was Minseok, transparent, dissolving into the dust that floated thought the silver rays of the moon.
There was a big commotion of course and Chanyeol was scolded severely for disobeying the rule about staying out of the dangerous attic, but everyone was just so relieved that he was safe that it was rather a good thing after all. He stuck his tongue out at Yura from where he was hidden between the folds of his mother's skirts. They had found the body of a small boy, unidentified as of yet, and they held a memorial service, setting the body to rest.
Chanyeol knew it was Minseok though.
He slept fitfully, secretly bereft.
"Psst."
Chanyeol turned over in his sleep, mouthing something about noodles.
"Psst!"
A cold finger poked his cheek.
His eyes flew open.
Minseok was crouched on the bed, a cute grin spread across his face.
You're pretty when you smile.
"Can't you leave now?" Chanyeol's forehead crinkled with concern, but Minseok only laughed, the sound a delightful peal of bells.
"It was boring out there so I came back."
He poked Chanyeol on the cheek and Chanyeol pouted.
"Come on! I'm bored - let's go play." Minseok tugged at his sleeve. Chanyeol pretended to consider it for a moment - of course I want to! - before asking a question.
"Can we play a prank on my sister?"
Minseok's eyes grew wide with delight as he nodded, mischief twinkling across his irises.
Chanyeol had a lot of stories to tell his grandpa after that.
Final author's note: thanks so much to M for letting me write this, B for the word warring so that I was able to finish, and S for everything as usual. ♡
Title: Cold Fingers
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Minseok
Rating: PG
Warnings: one main character is a ghost, brief mention of bones
Length: ~2228 words
Summary: There's someone who visits Chanyeol at night.
Author's note: kid!au
"There's a ghost in my closet."
Chanyeol made the announcement at the raucous dinner table on Friday night.
Mommy was busy cutting up his sister's chicken and wasn't paying attention to him or to daddy, who was sneaking the cats dark meat under the table. Chanyeol nodded in approval. Cats who ate dark meat didn't get fat. He was about to continue eating when Grandpa caught his attention by stage-winking, meaning that even if the rest of the family didn't notice, the neighbours across the street who had a bad habit of leaving their bedroom blinds open certainly did.
"See me after supper," he stage-whispered, his enthusiasm snuffing out the nearby candle. Grandma turned and glared, and that was the end of the supper conversation.
But after he'd been forced to help wipe plates while his sister was allowed to go play the piano - he grumbled the whole time because everyone knew she was terrible at it and wouldn't amount to anything, even the piano teacher said so and the piano teacher was nice to everybody - he snuck off to the den to visit grandpa in his winged armchair by the fire.
Grandpa beckoned for him to come closer; he didn't really want to because grandpa smoked cigars which was kind of stinky and made his throat hurt, but there was the promise of a story and Chanyeol loved stories, especially if his sister didn't get to hear them.
Sitting down on grandpa's bony lap, he picked up the cat Mr. Muffin and patted him absentmindedly as grandpa began his tale.
"Now when I was a boy about your age," he began, his voice deep and raspy from too many cigars over the years - Chanyeol though it sounded mysterious - "I had some strange things happen to me. I used to sleep in the room that you have now, and sometimes when I was just waking up or just going to sleep I would see something out of the corner of my eye."
He paused for dramatic effect, letting the ashes fall from his cigar into the ashtray. Mr. Muffin wrinkled his pink nose in disgust and Chanyeol secretly agreed. Oh well.
"One time, I even though I saw a face..." There was a far away look in his eyes. Chanyeol peered at them, curious, but grandpa gave his head a small shake and continued.
"I asked my grandma but she was always busy with her book club and wine club and gardening club, so I asked the housekeeper instead."
Chanyeol nodded in agreement. Everyone knew that it was the servants who knew what really went on.
"She didn't know very much but she said there was maybe a small boy who had lived here before my grandpa bought the house and built the extra wings. But the boy had disappeared and that was why the family had sold the house and moved away."
Chanyeol shivered deliciously. He loved ghost stories, especially ones that were real.
"After thinking about it for a little bit, she told me that he had maybe slept in the same room that was mine back then, but she wasn't sure. I was going to ask her some more but I could hear my mother coming and I knew she didn't approve of me talking to the help so I ran away down the hall."
Chanyeol frowned. He didn't know much about how servants were treated back before he was born, but he didn't very much like how it sounded like his great-grandmother had acted. That's mean.
His grandpa smoked his cigar pensively. The fire crackled in the fireplace.
"What happened then?" Chanyeol was too curious to let the story slide. After all, this was his bedroom that was being discussed.
His grandpa took a last drag of his cigar before tapping off the ashes, causing Chanyeol to cough into his jacket sleeve.
"I got the idea from a book I had read. I spread out talcum powder under the windows and in the doorway to catch someone if they were pretending to be a ghost."
Chanyeol nodded along - it sounded quite clever.
"Did you catch them?" He was really curious by now, heels kicking the upholstery in excitement. Mr. Muffin lifted his head to glare at the boy reproachfully before jumping off his lap to move to a quieter napping place.
His grandpa only sighed, the sound full of regret. Chanyeol unconsciously held his breath.
"There weren't any prints in the powder," he explained, "but there was a message written in my diary the next morning, and I didn't recognize the writing."
Chanyeol wrapped his fingers up in the fabric of his grandpa's merino sweater. The story was getting almost too interesting by now; he wasn't sure whether he'd be able to sleep tonight.
"Did you see the boy?" He both wanted the answer and didn't want it.
"No." His grandpa sighed, snuffing the end of the cigar in the ashtray, leaving it a smoking crumble of ashes. "I never even caught a glimpse after that." Chanyeol breathed out an unconscious sigh of relief.
"What did the message say?" Chanyeol felt a little safer, now that there wasn't any real danger of ghosts. He bounced a little and tried to convince Mr. Muffin to climb back into his lap but the cat remained aloof. Fine, be grumpy.
"It said 'Nice try'," his grandpa chuckled. He shook his head in amused disbelief. "I always thought it was a prank but my brothers would never own up to it." He paused, fingers hovering pensively over the pair of reading glasses sitting on the end table. "Come to think of it, they were at camp that summer so it couldn't have been them." He shrugged, but Chanyeol was electrified to the spot.
What if it's real?
He was just lifting his hand to tug on his grandpa's sleeve to beg for more of the story, there had to be something, right? But just then Yura came waltzing in demanding to be allowed to sit on grandpa's lap as well and the moment was lost.
I'm not sharing.
He sat on the hearth rug, sipping hot cocoa and sulking, and his sister didn't even have have the decency to notice, prattling to grandma and grandpa about her piano recital that no one would even want to go to.
He went up to bed with a full stomach and a frown on his usually cheerful face.
"Hey."
Chanyeol tossed and turned in his sleep.
"Hey."
He woke with a start, cold fingers on his shoulder.
Cold fingers -
He was too frightened to scream, peering over the top of his comforter to see -
There was a boy sitting on the end of his bed.
A boy that he could see through.
He screamed anyway.
There were pounding feet and crashing doors and his mother rushed in, flustered, followed by grandma and grandpa and Yura, grumbling about being woken up, and in all the commotion by the time he looked back at the boy there was no one there.
"There was a ghost in my room!"
No one believed him except for grandpa, who only shook his head.
The next night he went to sleep with the light on, sneaking out of bed to flick the switch after hearing his mother close the door after her habitual check on the children before turning in for the night.
Chanyeol tried to keep his eyes open, even considering climbing out of bed to find some matchsticks when his eyes started to droop when -
He woke with a start, a cold finger poking his cheek.
"Shhh."
Wide-eyed, he stared at the boy sitting on his bed.
"Don't scream okay?" The boy looked almost...sad. Chanyeol found himself nodding without even realizing it.
You dummy.
"Are you dead?" he whispered, then clapped his hand over his mouth in shock at his temerity.
Oh no!
But the boy only giggled at his fright.
"Yup!" he nodded, smirking. "My name is Minseok by the way."
"I'm -"
"Yes, you're Chanyeol, I already know." Minseok interrupted him with a grin.
How do you know my name?
"I know everything about my families," the ghost boy continued.
"Your families?" Chanyeol sputtered in confusion.
"Yes," Minseok stated, matter-of-fact. "It's my house, after all."
"What makes it your house?" Chanyeol forgot to be circumspect in his puzzlement. My family is my family, not your family.
"Because I can't leave." The boy sounded sad. Chnayeol almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Chanyeol wanted to ask the boy more questions - Who are you? Why are you talking to me? - but he heard a door slam somewhere in the recesses of the house and when he looked back, Minseok was gone.
The next night he didn't bother with the lights, waking up immediately with the first cold touch on his face.
It's kind of tingly.
Minseok glowed faintly in the dark and Chanyeol was fascinated, unconsciously reaching out a hand to -
Minseok startled him by flinging himself out of reach.
"You can't touch me." He didn't explain why, and Chanyeol didn't dare ask.
The sat, two boys on opposite sides of the bed in the dark, the crumpled bedclothes between them.
"Why are you here?" His voice came out as a whisper.
Minseok was looking at him, but it felt like he was seeing something else.
"I need your help."
He looked so wan and helpless, knees tucked under his chin in the dark, moonlight pooling in his milky collarbones. Chanyeol nodded.
Minseok got off the bed, unfolding his slender limbs, and led him to the rickety attic stairs that Chanyeol wasn't allowed to use.
"I'm not allowed up there," he tried to explain, but Minseok only grasped him by the hand. A frisson of electricity poured across his skin and he shivered with something that wasn't fear.
"Come on."
He didn't have to be asked twice.
They crept up the narrow steps, the rotten floorboards creaking dreadfully under Chanyeol's slippers but not even sighing when Minseok's small white feet touched their knotted surface.
The attic wasn't as dark as Chanyeol had been expecting, moonlight pouring through the gable windows to cast beams of dancing dust across the space. A breeze lifted the curls over his forehead.
Minseok stopped, standing in the centre of the room.
"What - ?"
The boy cut him off with a glance before stepping forward slowly. Chanyeol trailed a few steps behind.
There was a wide blank space of plaster, bare of the trunks and cases obscuring the rest of the walls. Minseok stopped in front of it, running a finger in a sad dance across the dusty surface.
"Here," he whispered, and somehow Chanyeol understood.
He cast his eye over the piles of boxes and crates, settling on the object he was unconsciously looking for.
An axe.
Why is there an axe in my attic?
His curiosity trailed behind his slippered feet which were already treading carefully over the spongy floorboards to retrieve the tool.
Minseok watched as he struggled to swing the axe with small arms.
thud
Cracks ran out through the plaster, radiating from the point of impact as white dust filled the air.
Chanyeol coughed.
Minseok looked even more transparent.
thud
Pieces of the wall began to fall away with each swing.
His arms ached.
With a last dull moan, the wall collapsed outwards.
As the attic floor collapsed under his feet, dropping Chanyeol down to the floor below, he caught a glimpse of the outline of bones in the space hidden behind the wall he had just destroyed.
But the last thing he saw was Minseok, transparent, dissolving into the dust that floated thought the silver rays of the moon.
There was a big commotion of course and Chanyeol was scolded severely for disobeying the rule about staying out of the dangerous attic, but everyone was just so relieved that he was safe that it was rather a good thing after all. He stuck his tongue out at Yura from where he was hidden between the folds of his mother's skirts. They had found the body of a small boy, unidentified as of yet, and they held a memorial service, setting the body to rest.
Chanyeol knew it was Minseok though.
He slept fitfully, secretly bereft.
"Psst."
Chanyeol turned over in his sleep, mouthing something about noodles.
"Psst!"
A cold finger poked his cheek.
His eyes flew open.
Minseok was crouched on the bed, a cute grin spread across his face.
You're pretty when you smile.
"Can't you leave now?" Chanyeol's forehead crinkled with concern, but Minseok only laughed, the sound a delightful peal of bells.
"It was boring out there so I came back."
He poked Chanyeol on the cheek and Chanyeol pouted.
"Come on! I'm bored - let's go play." Minseok tugged at his sleeve. Chanyeol pretended to consider it for a moment - of course I want to! - before asking a question.
"Can we play a prank on my sister?"
Minseok's eyes grew wide with delight as he nodded, mischief twinkling across his irises.
Chanyeol had a lot of stories to tell his grandpa after that.
Final author's note: thanks so much to M for letting me write this, B for the word warring so that I was able to finish, and S for everything as usual. ♡