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fic advent: day ten
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hyperlydian ♥
chanyeol/kai
pg, 5.3k words (CRIES)
“I'm battling monsters, I'm pulling you out of the burning buildings
and you say I'll give you anything but you never come through.”
― Richard Siken
like a bajillion thank yous tosamstrident for being as indulgent as she always is. maybe now i can get through the rest of these suckers
hyperlydian ♥chanyeol/kai
pg, 5.3k words (CRIES)
“I'm battling monsters, I'm pulling you out of the burning buildings
and you say I'll give you anything but you never come through.”
― Richard Siken
like a bajillion thank yous to
samstrident for being as indulgent as she always is. maybe now i can get through the rest of these suckers“This isn't working out.”
It feels strangely anticlimactic, after all that. All that thinking and wanting and needing and now, when he's finally done it, he feels nothing. Maybe, Chanyeol thinks, maybe that's because this isn't the breaking point. This is the aftermath. Something throbs in his chest, and a dull ache pushes at the back of his eyes. He's so tired.
There's confusion in Jongin's eyes, and a little hurt. A small part of Chanyeol feels gratified for that. “What?” Jongin says, and Chanyeol's smile, already tight, falters. “I don't...” He opens his mouth and closes it, hands fluttering uselessly in his lap. “I thought we were fine?”
Swallowing hard, Chanyeol bolsters his grin and hooks an arm around Jongin's neck. “You don't need me anymore, Jonginnie,” he says, squeezing gently. It's a half-truth, and it makes it easier. Jongin's practices don't stretch twice as long as the number of hours that he sleeps. That's as sure a sign as any. “Don't worry.”
“But I always need you, hyung.” Jongin searches Chanyeol's face for a few long seconds.
That was never true. Chanyeol lets his arm fall away and his shoulders slump. “I'm still here,” he says. “I just, I don't think it's a good idea if we do this anymore.” He tries to soften it, his smile stretching bigger. “You'll be fine!”
After all of that, Chanyeol thinks that maybe this is the worst part. Jongin watches him with wide-unguarded eyes, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Chanyeol wants to cry a little, because Jongin honestly doesn't get it. Chanyeol's throat works and he has to remind himself to keep his distance. It helps, of course, that Jongin doesn't reach for him. He doesn't try to bridge the distance widening between them, and even if Chanyeol knows Jongin won't, he still wishes he would. All he wants in the world right now is for Jongin to grab his hand or kiss him or tell him that he's wrong, and Jongin's stillness makes Chanyeol's stomach drop in the worst way. He wishes he was wrong.
“Jongin?” A rap at the door and then Joonmyun is sticking his head into the room. “Come on, it's your turn to shower. You're holding everyone up.” The irritated edge to his voice melts away instantly when he takes in the two of them, perched on the edge of Jongin's bed. “Sorry, am I...?”
Chanyeol shakes his head immediately. “Nope,” he says brightly. He nudges Jongin with his elbow. “We're done.” Jongin's tongue darts out to wet his lips, but he doesn't argue with him. Chanyeol's heart crumples just that little bit further. He hadn't thought he would, but, well. Hope springs eternal. “Go shower, you smell anyway.” The joke is weak, but the corners of Jongin's mouth turns up anyway.
“Shut up,” he says, pushing at Chanyeol's shoulder, but he climbs to his feet and heads to the bathroom.
When he's gone, Chanyeol drops the act. He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and curls in on himself. He feels the sadness in his bones, in the ache of his knuckles as he clenches his fingers and the dull throb in his chest. Even if he knew this was inevitable, there had always been a part of him that had hoped that Jongin would fight. Fight for him. The certainty hurts so much more than he'd ever thought it would.
The hand on his shoulder startles him upright. Chanyeol hadn't realized that Joonmyun was still there until he was hovering at his side, eyes hesitant. “Chanyeol?” he says quietly. He's pulled away, hand floating over Chanyeol's shoulder like he wants to pull him in, but he's waiting.
“I'm fine, hyung,” Chanyeol tells him, even if his voice is hoarse and gives him away, and even if Joonmyun can see the lie of it in the way his hands tremble. “Don't worry,” he says again.
Joonmyun sighs, and he carefully sits down next to Chanyeol. His eyes are so sad and guilt floods Chanyeol's gut. He wants to apologize, but Joonmyun is already shaking his head. “Okay,” he says. He doesn't leave, doesn't move, doesn't say a word. And when Chanyeol's head comes to rest against his shoulder, Joonmyun just rubs his hand rhythmically against his back and lets him shake.
-
It wasn't always like this.
Late one night, Chanyeol finds Jongin in the practice room. He's been here too long, Chanyeol can see it in the sweat-drenched shirt that hangs off his shoulders and the way he grits his teeth. He doesn't even look up as Chanyeol comes in, he's lost in dance, face serious, each movement of his body fluid and precise.
He stumbles to a halt when Chanyeol flicks off the music, eyes hardening. “Time to go home?” Chanyeol suggests, stooping to gather a towel and holding it out to him.
Sweat streams down Jongin's face, and he pants, open-mouthed, before shaking his head. “I'm not done,” he says, voice grim. He doesn't take the towel until Chanyeol's practically got it shoved into his face, and then he snatches it away, scowling as he wipes at his face. “Turn it back on.” Chanyeol gets a faceful of sweaty towel and Jongin squares his shoulders, facing the mirror. “Turn it back on,” he says again.
Chanyeol doesn't move. Jongin's face is determined but he's unsteady, and he can't even stand up straight. “No,” Chanyeol says, firmly this time. “C'mon, man. You know we've got an early wake up call tomorrow.”
“Hyung, please,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol's not used to pleading coming from someone like him. “I just – ” He pushes his sweat-slick hair out of his eyes and wavers. “I almost have it.”
The towel in his hands is damp and Chanyeol hesitates. “Come on,” he says again. When he wraps an arm around Jongin's shoulders, Jongin pushes at him, but it's half-hearted. Chanyeol just tightens his arm and drags him to the door, only stopping to scoop up Jongin's bag. Somewhere in the middle, Jongin ends up leaning against him, fingers tight in the material of Chanyeol's oversized hoodie.
Chanyeol's chest does a funny lurch when Jongin's face scrunches up with every step. “Idiot,” he says, almost without thinking. He gets a glare in return, Jongin wiggling out from under his arm to stand on his own. “Well, you are,” Chanyeol says. He presses one hand to the small of Jongin's back and watches him wince. “You know we have to perform tomorrow, right?”
He only holds on for a second too long when Jongin determinedly tugs his bag out of his hand. “I just...” Jongin's never been good with words. He waves a hand and shifts away from Chanyeol, his eyes glued on the floor. “I almost had it.”
It's late, and kind of cold, and Chanyeol watches Jongin from the corner of his eye as they wait for their car. “You're stupid.” Jongin's head snaps up, face hard. “You had it like, a week ago. You're always the first one to get it, and you're lightyears ahead of the rest of us anyway. This is just you being stubborn and dumb.”
The van pulls up and Jongin stares at Chanyeol for so long that Chanyeol flushes and swallows. “What?” Jongin says. He sounds bewildered but Chanyeol just climbs into the car.
“Nothing,” Chanyeol replies. It's just the two of them, but Jongin slides into the seat next to him, throwing his bag into the middle row.
By the flashes of yellow street lights, Chanyeol sees Jongin watching him in the dark of the van. There's something shifting in his belly, something big and dangerous. He feels like if he lets it go, get momentum, it'll never stop. His hands grip at the material of his track pants and he swallows.
Jongin only looks away when he nods off for a second, head falling against Chanyeol's shoulder. When they pull up to the dorm, Jongin jerks awake, wiping his mouth and blinking at Chanyeol, wide-eyed. “Quit staring,” Chanyeol tells him, covering his unease with a broad grin. “Hurry up and get out, I want to get some sleep tonight.”
“Shut up,” Jongin says automatically, his face already shutting down as he slips out of the van. They jostle shoulders as they make their way to the door, but when Chanyeol toes off his sneakers and turns the doorknob to his room, he could swear Jongin is watching him.
Chanyeol is exhausted, but he lays awake and stares at the ceiling for too long, feeling like somewhere in the last hour his anchor slipped loose and now he's been set adrift.
-
They don't talk about it. Jongin keeps sneaking looks at Chanyeol when he thinks he's not looking, but he never says a word. He's always been pretty good at dodging anything that might involve him having to talk about anything uncomfortable, and he long ago perfected the art of never being alone with someone who's trying to corner him.
Chanyeol doesn't bother to try. That doesn't mean it doesn't grate on his nerves, though. He hates the way that this tension has sparked up between them because he has no idea how to resolve it. Jongin is simultaneously slippery and prickly, sliding away from Chanyeol and refusing to laugh at his jokes. It's so frustrating and Chanyeol is helpless to fix it.
The first time they're alone in over a week, it's pure coincidence. He's stuck in that place between asleep and awake, legs in motion to get himself a drink, but he's barely even thinking. His knees collide with Jongin's feet, hanging off the end of couch, and it takes him a few seconds to process what he's seeing.
“Watch where you're going.” Jongin's voice is slurred with sleep and he only pushes himself up to glare at Chanyeol.
Squinting down at him, Chanyeol drags a hand through his hair. “Why are you out here?”
Dragging his blanket up over his shoulders, Jongin shrugs. “Too hot. Couldn't sleep,” he says. He squeezes his eyes shut, burying his nose in his arms. It's a dismissal, and Chanyeol can't pretend like it doesn't sting.
He mutters an apology and shuffles into the kitchen. He's awake now, as much as he wishes he wasn't. He pours himself a glass of water and leans against the counter as he drinks it. The light of the kitchen spills into the dark living room and Chanyeol can see Jongin scrunch his sock-covered toes up, and something in his chest clenches.
The cup of tea doesn't take long to make, and he's sure to make it sweet, just like Jongin likes. This time, when Chanyeol heads into the living room, he skirts around Jongin's feet and carefully sets the mug down on the coffee table. “If you still can't sleep,” he whispers.
A hand darts out from under Jongin's blanket and catches his wrist and Chanyeol freezes, blinking. “Wait,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol sinks down to squat next to Jongin's head. He waits patiently, and Jongin twists to face him, bangs a mess from static and sleep. “What did.” Jongin clears his throat. Chanyeol can barely see him in the dark, but he can see the shine when Jongin licks his lips. A nervous habit. “What did you mean, before? In the van?”
His voice is tense, anxious, but Chanyeol is at a complete loss. The tight line of Jongin's shoulders tell Chanyeol that he's worried, afraid of what Chanyeol will say, which makes absolutely no sense to him. The question is innocuous enough, if a bit silly, at least to Chanyeol. “What do you – I said what I meant?” And he had, which is why he doesn't get Jongin's confusion. “I don't understand.”
Jongin's fingers rest warm and tight against his wrist. The silence stretches so long that Chanyeol doesn't know if Jongin's just nodded off again, and he shifts to stand up. Jongin's voice stops him in his tracks. “You meant it.” His words are slow and he sounds small and confused. Chanyeol gently pries his fingers from his wrist, holding his hand between his.
“Well, yeah,” he agrees easily, laughing a little. Jongin doesn't answer but a little smile is curling the corners of Chanyeol's mouth up, because Jongin isn't pulling his hand away.
After several long seconds, it's clear that Jongin isn't going to explain himself, so Chanyeol clears his throat. “Um. Do you think you can sleep now?” If Joonmyun comes out in the morning and finds Jongin asleep on the couch again, he'll do his whole worried leader thing, and none of them want that.
“I guess.” Gathering the blanket around his shoulders, Jongin sits up and he lets Chanyeol lead him to his room. The tea sits on the table, abandoned, and Chanyeol wants to do something about it, but Jongin bumps his shoulder against his and he forgets all about it. “Hey, do you...” Jongin falls silent
It doesn't take long for Chanyeol to realize that he's not going to finish that question and he pushes Jongin into his bedroom. “Go sleep,” he says fondly, but Jongin doesn't go on his own. He makes Chanyeol nudge him forward until he reaches his bed, and then pushes him down. “I'm not reading you a bedtime story.”
“I wasn't asking for one,” Jongin hisses back, finally crawling into bed.
Chanyeol tugs the sheet up to his chin and sweeps Jongin's bangs out of his eyes, his heart doing that fluttery thing when he hears Jongin inhale sharply. “Sleep, dummy.” His hand is batted away, and then caught. Jongin squeezes his fingers tightly for a second before letting go, sheets rustling as he withdraws his hand. “Good night,” Chanyeol whispers.
He's out the door when he hears the faint whisper in reply. “Night, hyung.” When Chanyeol climbs back into his own bed, he has to wait for the rebellious thoughts in his head to stop circling before he can get back to sleep. It's simultaneously thrilling and kind of terrifying.
-
“Hyung, that's cheating,” Jongin whines, trying to keep one eye on the screen and the other on Chanyeol's arms. Really, Chanyeol didn't have to resort to these measures, he's already the Mario Kart champion, but he liked to get up close and rile Jongin up. He digs his elbows into Jongin's ribs every chance he gets, and knocks his arm into Jongin's shoulder just to throw him off.
A competitive Jongin is one who's flushed and grinning, shoving back and yelping his complaints. “No fair,” he declares, and Chanyeol promptly ignores him. He's nearly at the finish line anyway, but it's fun to hear Jongin whine.
“I'm going to win anyway,” Chanyeol tells him. “Does it matter how I do it?” Jongin shouts with frustration, eyes bright and sharp, and he tosses the controller aside, abandoning it to pin Chanyeol to the couch.
It's not what Chanyeol was expecting. He squawks, Jongin's hands pressing flat against his shoulders and holding him down. “Cheaters don't deserve to win,” Jongin says, settling his weight against Chanyeol's waist and grinning triumphantly.
Every time Chanyeol tries to raise his hands to finish the race, Jongin knocks them away and finally, he just gives up. “Now who's a cheater?” he grumbles, and Jongin digs his thumbs into his shoulders hard enough to make him yelp.
“Shut up, hyung,” Jongin says. He's looking down at Chanyeol, and Jongin takes a deep breath, the way he does before they go out to an interview or a fanmeet and he's steeling himself to smile his way through it.
“What are you – ” In one lightning fast movement, Jongin darts down to press his mouth against Chanyeol's. It's fast and hard and then Jongin's straightening up again. He presses a finger against his bottom lip. Old habits die hard. “Huh.”
“Sorry.” Jongin moves to climb off the couch but Chanyeol catches him with a hand in the front of his worn t-shirt. It's enough to stop Jongin cold, his throat working and eyes wide with fear.
Chanyeol shakes his head. “No,” he says quickly, and Jongin relaxes just a fraction. Fingers tightening in Jongin's shirt, Chanyeol tugs hard enough to let Jongin know what he wants but not make him feel trapped. “Is this. Do you want this?”
Jongin's gaze is everywhere but on Chanyeol, desperately looking for an escape route. “Yes,” he says hoarsely.
“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin's eyes snap back to him. He hovers and Chanyeol pulls at his shirt again. “Okay.”
Hesitant fingers trace their way down the line of Chanyeol's nose, then his chin, and then Jongin is curling down, fitting his mouth to Chanyeol's. He lets Jongin control it all, hands pressing firmly against Chanyeol's ribs as he cautiously licks into his mouth. It sets off a roaring between Chanyeol's ears and his heart races out of control.
When Jongin straightens again, he has Chanyeol's face cupped in his palms. His face is astonished and pleased. “That was nice,” Chanyeol tells him breathlessly, and the smile Jongin flashes at him is like sunshine dawning on his face. Something in Chanyeol's chest melts away, irrevocably, and he can't even bring himself to care.
-
After that, there's an almost visible shift. Jongin has always been a little bit prickly, and he's always played favourites. And when Chanyeol goes from being someone who gets along with Jongin tolerably well to being Jongin's, it's a place he's never been in before.
It takes some getting used to, but he likes it. When they land in Incheon after SMTown Hong Kong, the fans are as noisy and rowdy as ever. Chanyeol tries to make the best of it, putting on a broad smile and nodding politely as he shifts his bag from one hand to the other. He's exhausted, they all are, worn down from the flight and the concert, and he doesn't even startle when he feels a hand grip the sleeve of his jacket.
Chanyeol hopes that his tiredness will mask the way that his throat tightens and a flush threatens to spread across his face. Jongin hates crowds and he loathes airports, and it's not the first time he's used one of them as a human shield against the noise and the eyes and the cameras. It's the first time he's reached for Chanyeol, though, and that knowledge makes Chanyeol a little bit lightheaded.
Jongin only lets go when he has to, and when they're climbing into the van he physically knocks Sehun out of the way so he can sit next to Chanyeol. Sehun glowers at him. “There are these things called words,” he says conversationally. “You should try them.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jongin says. When he settles down in the backseat, he's pressed closer to Chanyeol than is really necessary, thigh pressed up against Chanyeol's. “Me Jongin,” Jongin grunts and points at himself. “You dickbag.” Sehun throws his hat at him as he climbs into the middle seat but he lets Joonmyun quiet him, throwing himself down sullenly.
“Nice,” Chanyeol says to Jongin.
Jongin shrugs a shoulder, but he's avoiding Chanyeol's eye. “Wanted to sit here.” His fingers twitch against his legs, like he's holding them back, and he clears his throat. “Next to you,” he adds. Even though his voice is pitched just for Chanyeol's ears, Jongin sounds like he had to fight to get the words out.
Chanyeol rewards him with a broad grin. His hand drifts to brush up against Jongin's, and he watches him flinch away. His stomach clenches in a sickening way. It's okay, Chanyeol reminds himself. Jongin's weird about these touching things. It has to be on his terms. It still stings, though, especially since every time Jongin looks at him with shy eyes all Chanyeol wants to do is grab him and drag him in for a kiss, no matter where they are.
He takes solace though, in the warm press of Jongin against his side, and when, halfway back to the dorm, Jongin curls his pinky around his. When Chanyeol looks over, Jongin is studiously feigning sleep, but the tiny, satisfied smile gives him away. Chanyeol turns to look out the window, squeezing Jongin's finger in return and grinning to himself.
-
They never really talk about it. When Jongin holds up all of them by refusing to get out of bed until the last possible second, it still grates on Chanyeol's nerves. Jongin still snaps when Chanyeol steps left when he should be sliding right in dance practice.
Still, things have changed. When it's Chanyeol who comes to wake Jongin up, he still grumbles, but he actually climbs out of bed. After practice, Jongin apologizes the only way he knows how, pressing his sweaty forehead against Chanyeol's shoulder and smiling, hesitantly. And how could Chanyeol hold a grudge against that?
The thing is, it's not that Chanyeol is a romantic or anything, but he always thought that when he met someone he really wanted to be with, everything would still slide into place. And it hasn't, really. He keeps trying to tell himself that it's enough, that eventually they'll both adjust, but it bothers him far more than he lets on.
They have a rare few hours off one day, and Baekhyun and Joonmyun disappear to M's dorm to hang out with Yifan and Zitao. It's the first time that they've really had time off since this thing between him and Jongin started, and Chanyeol's hopeful that maybe they'll get to spend it together. He makes his way to Jongin's room and leans against the door frame. “Hey,” he says, deliberately casual. “Got any plans?”
Jongin looks up, he flashes him a smile. Chanyeol's heart is making a valiant effort to tap dance out of his chest. “No,” he says, and he climbs to his feet. He's always so cautious about touching Chanyeol, but every time he presses his nose to Chanyeol's jaw or his fingertips skate up the inside of Chanyeol's arm, the contact leaves fire in its wake. “Do you?”
There is no controlling the grin that spreads across Chanyeol's face. He turns towards Jongin, almost close enough to catch Jongin's mouth in a kiss, but he doesn't want to scare him off. He's about to suggest they steal Joonmyun's laptop and watch movies in bed, or do anything that involves them being close in a dark room. Unfortunately, he's interrupted when Sehun bellows Jongin's name from the kitchen. “We're going to grab something to eat,” he calls. “You guys coming?”
Jongin's eyes light up at the prospect of a good meal, and he knocks his shoulder against Chanyeol's. “That sounds like plans,” he says, and there's not a shred of malice in the way that he grabs a jacket and slides past Chanyeol, and runs to join Sehun and Kyungsoo in the kitchen. “C'mon, hyung.”
The disappointment winds into Chanyeol's chest immediately, and he tries to stamp it down. “Just a second,” he replies. He runs to his room to grab a coat and follows them out the door. Jongin's arm brushes up against his as they walk, and it sets off such a weird mix of sparks and confusion in him that he almost gets vertigo.
It's not like he doesn't like hanging out with Sehun and Kyungsoo, or going out to eat, but Chanyeol had kind of been looking forward to have Jongin all to himself. He'd been hoping that maybe, with the time alone, it would give Jongin the courage to inch closer, let Chanyeol fit his fingers between his. And of course, if he was really lucky, he'd been hoping for a chance to get familiar with the taste of Jongin's mouth.
Instead, here he is, trying to content himself with the fact that he's getting a real meal and that Jongin had insisted that Chanyeol sit next to him, tugging him down so forcefully that Chanyeol had almost fallen on top of him. When Chanyeol oh so casually curls a hand around Jongin's knee, though, Jongin flinches and stares at him, wide-eyed and panicked, until Chanyeol withdraws his hand.
It's fine, Chanyeol tells himself. They're in public and Jongin's always been picky about it anyway. But they're friends, and the touch could've passed for casual anyway, and while the rest of them laugh and chat, Chanyeol pastes on a smile and ignores the growing hollow ache in his chest.
-
The little things build up. Each one digs into Chanyeol's chest until sometimes just being around Jongin makes him tense up in painful anticipation. Jongin is such a contradiction. One minute, he's watching Chanyeol with eyes so alight with promise it leaves Chanyeol squirming; the next he's pulling his hand out of Chanyeol's the instant Sehun calls him over to watch some dance video.
Chanyeol is starting to get whiplash, and he doesn't know what to do. It's spilling into everything he does, and more and more he finds he has to push his smiles wider just to keep them from flagging. It hurts in this nagging, lingering ache that he can't shake off, stealing his sleep and his peace.
One night, when Jongin stays late for dance practice again, Chanyeol finds himself lounging around in his room with Baekhyun. It's been a while since they hung out, and Baekhyun is sprawled on his belly in his bed, chin propped up on one hand. “Who stole your smile?” he asks, eyes searching.
Chanyeol opens his mouth, caught off-guard, and then closes it, flashing him a grin. “It's right here,” he tells him.
Baekhyun has always been far too quick for that. “Don't try that model idol mask crap on me, please,” he scoffs. His eyes are sharp and a bit sad, and Chanyeol feels guilty. He's never felt good keeping secrets from Baekhyun. “I miss happy Chanyeol. I miss seeing you light up.”
“I'm not sad,” Chanyeol protests, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he hears the lie of it, and that scares him. Jongin makes him happy, but as much as it scares him to admit it, that's only sometimes. “I'm fine.”
Baekhyun's mouth twists unhappily. “Okay,” he says. He's not pretending that he buys that, but he's going to let it slide. “I'll believe that when you quit wandering around like a kicked puppy.” Chanyeol bites his lip and when he's not forthcoming with an explanation, Baekhyun sighs, hurt.
“I'm sorry,” Chanyeol says, a bit miserably. Baekhyun just nods and Chanyeol swallows back the feeling like maybe the negatives are starting to outweigh the positives in this thing he has with Jongin, whatever it is. It's a horrible, creeping feeling, one that sinks into his chest and refuses to let Chanyeol shake it off.
-
He does make an attempt to talk to Jongin about it. They're stuck in the airport one morning, killing time before they board the flight home from Malaysia, and Jongin has dragged Chanyeol off to one corner, away from the noise that Jongdae and Baekhyun are making, so he can doze on Chanyeol's shoulder. It's as good a time as any, Chanyeol supposes.
“Hey, can we talk?”
Jongin hums sleepily, and Chanyeol can tell when he opens his eyes by the way that his eyelashes brush across his throat. It stirs up butterflies in Chanyeol's belly and he exhales shakily.
“Is this...” It takes Chanyeol a few seconds to fit together the words the way he wants to, and it's mostly because he doesn't want to scare Jongin away. Sure, it hurts. But then Jongin curls up to him on the couch after dance practice, sweaty and tired and so sweet and Chanyeol melts all over again, all for that smile. “Is this what you want?”
Jongin straightens, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. “What do you mean?” he mumbles.
“I mean, you pull away when I try to hold your hand,” Chanyeol says hesitantly. “And we never really get a lot of time to y'know, be together.” He wishes they weren't in public right now. He can see the long lenses of fansite cameras and Baekhyun is carefully pretending not to be watching them. He sighs.
Jongin blinks at him. “But we can't do that stuff in public,” he says. “What if someone found out?” A thought occurs to Jongin and he freezes suddenly, eyes wary. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Chanyeol's mouth says without his volition. He pastes on that smile again and Jongin relaxes. Chanyeol wishes he wouldn't. He wishes that just this once, Jongin would read his body language and he'd know what Chanyeol was trying to communicate. “Just thinking,” he adds.
The plane ride back is a nightmare. Jongin claims the seat next to Chanyeol and drools on his shoulder but Chanyeol can't sleep. Like this, he can't move, staying steady so that Jongin can catch a few more precious hours of sleep. It gives him too much time to stew over the things that have already been swimming around in his head.
Something has to give, that much is for sure. He can't do this for too much longer. He could never deny the warmth that Jongin's smile sets sparking off in his chest, or the way that Jongin's possessive fingers around his wrist can erase the exhaustion from a day of hard practice. The thing is, Jongin has an uncanny talent of casually snuffing that warmth out.
He's well-meaning, but Jongin is careless, hurtful in a way he doesn't even intend. Somehow, that almost makes it worse. If Jongin were malicious, if he intended to make Chanyeol ache the way that he does, then it would be so easy for him to just pull away, cut this off. But he doesn't, and instead Chanyeol is left confused and hurting and, if he's honest, wanting something he's not sure he'll ever get.
That thought, once clarified, hits Chanyeol like a punch in the gut. Jongin is stubborn and contrary, loathe to change, and how can Chanyeol know that this will ever be different? Can he spend his life waiting for Jongin to come to him when it suits him? He knows the answer to that, of course, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to, because it makes his chest clench painfully and tears threaten at the corner of his eyes.
When they touch down in Korea, Chanyeol is numb. He feels tired and worn and when Jongin grins at him, the best he can manage is a ghost of a smile.
He justifies it by telling himself that it's better this way, for everyone. Sometimes these things aren't meant to be. Still, the hollow throb in his chest won't go away. “Are you alright?” Joonmyun asks him softly, right before he climbs into the van. Jongin is holding an earbud out for Chanyeol, watching him expectantly.
“Jetlagged, maybe?” Chanyeol offers, and Joonmyun accepts it with a nod. He slides in next to Jongin, and now when he presses up against Chanyeol's side, Chanyeol is so seized with hurt and regret for what could have been he wants to cry. He listens to Jongin's terrible dubstep without complaint, dodging Baekhyun's prying eyes and forcing a smile.
He knows that sometimes Jongin likes to curl up in bed after a flight, just zone out and do nothing, but Chanyeol catches his arm before he can slip into his bedroom. “Hey,” he says. “Do you have a moment?”
Jongin smiles and nods, and in his eyes, Chanyeol can see it all end.
It feels strangely anticlimactic, after all that. All that thinking and wanting and needing and now, when he's finally done it, he feels nothing. Maybe, Chanyeol thinks, maybe that's because this isn't the breaking point. This is the aftermath. Something throbs in his chest, and a dull ache pushes at the back of his eyes. He's so tired.
There's confusion in Jongin's eyes, and a little hurt. A small part of Chanyeol feels gratified for that. “What?” Jongin says, and Chanyeol's smile, already tight, falters. “I don't...” He opens his mouth and closes it, hands fluttering uselessly in his lap. “I thought we were fine?”
Swallowing hard, Chanyeol bolsters his grin and hooks an arm around Jongin's neck. “You don't need me anymore, Jonginnie,” he says, squeezing gently. It's a half-truth, and it makes it easier. Jongin's practices don't stretch twice as long as the number of hours that he sleeps. That's as sure a sign as any. “Don't worry.”
“But I always need you, hyung.” Jongin searches Chanyeol's face for a few long seconds.
That was never true. Chanyeol lets his arm fall away and his shoulders slump. “I'm still here,” he says. “I just, I don't think it's a good idea if we do this anymore.” He tries to soften it, his smile stretching bigger. “You'll be fine!”
After all of that, Chanyeol thinks that maybe this is the worst part. Jongin watches him with wide-unguarded eyes, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Chanyeol wants to cry a little, because Jongin honestly doesn't get it. Chanyeol's throat works and he has to remind himself to keep his distance. It helps, of course, that Jongin doesn't reach for him. He doesn't try to bridge the distance widening between them, and even if Chanyeol knows Jongin won't, he still wishes he would. All he wants in the world right now is for Jongin to grab his hand or kiss him or tell him that he's wrong, and Jongin's stillness makes Chanyeol's stomach drop in the worst way. He wishes he was wrong.
“Jongin?” A rap at the door and then Joonmyun is sticking his head into the room. “Come on, it's your turn to shower. You're holding everyone up.” The irritated edge to his voice melts away instantly when he takes in the two of them, perched on the edge of Jongin's bed. “Sorry, am I...?”
Chanyeol shakes his head immediately. “Nope,” he says brightly. He nudges Jongin with his elbow. “We're done.” Jongin's tongue darts out to wet his lips, but he doesn't argue with him. Chanyeol's heart crumples just that little bit further. He hadn't thought he would, but, well. Hope springs eternal. “Go shower, you smell anyway.” The joke is weak, but the corners of Jongin's mouth turns up anyway.
“Shut up,” he says, pushing at Chanyeol's shoulder, but he climbs to his feet and heads to the bathroom.
When he's gone, Chanyeol drops the act. He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and curls in on himself. He feels the sadness in his bones, in the ache of his knuckles as he clenches his fingers and the dull throb in his chest. Even if he knew this was inevitable, there had always been a part of him that had hoped that Jongin would fight. Fight for him. The certainty hurts so much more than he'd ever thought it would.
The hand on his shoulder startles him upright. Chanyeol hadn't realized that Joonmyun was still there until he was hovering at his side, eyes hesitant. “Chanyeol?” he says quietly. He's pulled away, hand floating over Chanyeol's shoulder like he wants to pull him in, but he's waiting.
“I'm fine, hyung,” Chanyeol tells him, even if his voice is hoarse and gives him away, and even if Joonmyun can see the lie of it in the way his hands tremble. “Don't worry,” he says again.
Joonmyun sighs, and he carefully sits down next to Chanyeol. His eyes are so sad and guilt floods Chanyeol's gut. He wants to apologize, but Joonmyun is already shaking his head. “Okay,” he says. He doesn't leave, doesn't move, doesn't say a word. And when Chanyeol's head comes to rest against his shoulder, Joonmyun just rubs his hand rhythmically against his back and lets him shake.
-
It wasn't always like this.
Late one night, Chanyeol finds Jongin in the practice room. He's been here too long, Chanyeol can see it in the sweat-drenched shirt that hangs off his shoulders and the way he grits his teeth. He doesn't even look up as Chanyeol comes in, he's lost in dance, face serious, each movement of his body fluid and precise.
He stumbles to a halt when Chanyeol flicks off the music, eyes hardening. “Time to go home?” Chanyeol suggests, stooping to gather a towel and holding it out to him.
Sweat streams down Jongin's face, and he pants, open-mouthed, before shaking his head. “I'm not done,” he says, voice grim. He doesn't take the towel until Chanyeol's practically got it shoved into his face, and then he snatches it away, scowling as he wipes at his face. “Turn it back on.” Chanyeol gets a faceful of sweaty towel and Jongin squares his shoulders, facing the mirror. “Turn it back on,” he says again.
Chanyeol doesn't move. Jongin's face is determined but he's unsteady, and he can't even stand up straight. “No,” Chanyeol says, firmly this time. “C'mon, man. You know we've got an early wake up call tomorrow.”
“Hyung, please,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol's not used to pleading coming from someone like him. “I just – ” He pushes his sweat-slick hair out of his eyes and wavers. “I almost have it.”
The towel in his hands is damp and Chanyeol hesitates. “Come on,” he says again. When he wraps an arm around Jongin's shoulders, Jongin pushes at him, but it's half-hearted. Chanyeol just tightens his arm and drags him to the door, only stopping to scoop up Jongin's bag. Somewhere in the middle, Jongin ends up leaning against him, fingers tight in the material of Chanyeol's oversized hoodie.
Chanyeol's chest does a funny lurch when Jongin's face scrunches up with every step. “Idiot,” he says, almost without thinking. He gets a glare in return, Jongin wiggling out from under his arm to stand on his own. “Well, you are,” Chanyeol says. He presses one hand to the small of Jongin's back and watches him wince. “You know we have to perform tomorrow, right?”
He only holds on for a second too long when Jongin determinedly tugs his bag out of his hand. “I just...” Jongin's never been good with words. He waves a hand and shifts away from Chanyeol, his eyes glued on the floor. “I almost had it.”
It's late, and kind of cold, and Chanyeol watches Jongin from the corner of his eye as they wait for their car. “You're stupid.” Jongin's head snaps up, face hard. “You had it like, a week ago. You're always the first one to get it, and you're lightyears ahead of the rest of us anyway. This is just you being stubborn and dumb.”
The van pulls up and Jongin stares at Chanyeol for so long that Chanyeol flushes and swallows. “What?” Jongin says. He sounds bewildered but Chanyeol just climbs into the car.
“Nothing,” Chanyeol replies. It's just the two of them, but Jongin slides into the seat next to him, throwing his bag into the middle row.
By the flashes of yellow street lights, Chanyeol sees Jongin watching him in the dark of the van. There's something shifting in his belly, something big and dangerous. He feels like if he lets it go, get momentum, it'll never stop. His hands grip at the material of his track pants and he swallows.
Jongin only looks away when he nods off for a second, head falling against Chanyeol's shoulder. When they pull up to the dorm, Jongin jerks awake, wiping his mouth and blinking at Chanyeol, wide-eyed. “Quit staring,” Chanyeol tells him, covering his unease with a broad grin. “Hurry up and get out, I want to get some sleep tonight.”
“Shut up,” Jongin says automatically, his face already shutting down as he slips out of the van. They jostle shoulders as they make their way to the door, but when Chanyeol toes off his sneakers and turns the doorknob to his room, he could swear Jongin is watching him.
Chanyeol is exhausted, but he lays awake and stares at the ceiling for too long, feeling like somewhere in the last hour his anchor slipped loose and now he's been set adrift.
-
They don't talk about it. Jongin keeps sneaking looks at Chanyeol when he thinks he's not looking, but he never says a word. He's always been pretty good at dodging anything that might involve him having to talk about anything uncomfortable, and he long ago perfected the art of never being alone with someone who's trying to corner him.
Chanyeol doesn't bother to try. That doesn't mean it doesn't grate on his nerves, though. He hates the way that this tension has sparked up between them because he has no idea how to resolve it. Jongin is simultaneously slippery and prickly, sliding away from Chanyeol and refusing to laugh at his jokes. It's so frustrating and Chanyeol is helpless to fix it.
The first time they're alone in over a week, it's pure coincidence. He's stuck in that place between asleep and awake, legs in motion to get himself a drink, but he's barely even thinking. His knees collide with Jongin's feet, hanging off the end of couch, and it takes him a few seconds to process what he's seeing.
“Watch where you're going.” Jongin's voice is slurred with sleep and he only pushes himself up to glare at Chanyeol.
Squinting down at him, Chanyeol drags a hand through his hair. “Why are you out here?”
Dragging his blanket up over his shoulders, Jongin shrugs. “Too hot. Couldn't sleep,” he says. He squeezes his eyes shut, burying his nose in his arms. It's a dismissal, and Chanyeol can't pretend like it doesn't sting.
He mutters an apology and shuffles into the kitchen. He's awake now, as much as he wishes he wasn't. He pours himself a glass of water and leans against the counter as he drinks it. The light of the kitchen spills into the dark living room and Chanyeol can see Jongin scrunch his sock-covered toes up, and something in his chest clenches.
The cup of tea doesn't take long to make, and he's sure to make it sweet, just like Jongin likes. This time, when Chanyeol heads into the living room, he skirts around Jongin's feet and carefully sets the mug down on the coffee table. “If you still can't sleep,” he whispers.
A hand darts out from under Jongin's blanket and catches his wrist and Chanyeol freezes, blinking. “Wait,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol sinks down to squat next to Jongin's head. He waits patiently, and Jongin twists to face him, bangs a mess from static and sleep. “What did.” Jongin clears his throat. Chanyeol can barely see him in the dark, but he can see the shine when Jongin licks his lips. A nervous habit. “What did you mean, before? In the van?”
His voice is tense, anxious, but Chanyeol is at a complete loss. The tight line of Jongin's shoulders tell Chanyeol that he's worried, afraid of what Chanyeol will say, which makes absolutely no sense to him. The question is innocuous enough, if a bit silly, at least to Chanyeol. “What do you – I said what I meant?” And he had, which is why he doesn't get Jongin's confusion. “I don't understand.”
Jongin's fingers rest warm and tight against his wrist. The silence stretches so long that Chanyeol doesn't know if Jongin's just nodded off again, and he shifts to stand up. Jongin's voice stops him in his tracks. “You meant it.” His words are slow and he sounds small and confused. Chanyeol gently pries his fingers from his wrist, holding his hand between his.
“Well, yeah,” he agrees easily, laughing a little. Jongin doesn't answer but a little smile is curling the corners of Chanyeol's mouth up, because Jongin isn't pulling his hand away.
After several long seconds, it's clear that Jongin isn't going to explain himself, so Chanyeol clears his throat. “Um. Do you think you can sleep now?” If Joonmyun comes out in the morning and finds Jongin asleep on the couch again, he'll do his whole worried leader thing, and none of them want that.
“I guess.” Gathering the blanket around his shoulders, Jongin sits up and he lets Chanyeol lead him to his room. The tea sits on the table, abandoned, and Chanyeol wants to do something about it, but Jongin bumps his shoulder against his and he forgets all about it. “Hey, do you...” Jongin falls silent
It doesn't take long for Chanyeol to realize that he's not going to finish that question and he pushes Jongin into his bedroom. “Go sleep,” he says fondly, but Jongin doesn't go on his own. He makes Chanyeol nudge him forward until he reaches his bed, and then pushes him down. “I'm not reading you a bedtime story.”
“I wasn't asking for one,” Jongin hisses back, finally crawling into bed.
Chanyeol tugs the sheet up to his chin and sweeps Jongin's bangs out of his eyes, his heart doing that fluttery thing when he hears Jongin inhale sharply. “Sleep, dummy.” His hand is batted away, and then caught. Jongin squeezes his fingers tightly for a second before letting go, sheets rustling as he withdraws his hand. “Good night,” Chanyeol whispers.
He's out the door when he hears the faint whisper in reply. “Night, hyung.” When Chanyeol climbs back into his own bed, he has to wait for the rebellious thoughts in his head to stop circling before he can get back to sleep. It's simultaneously thrilling and kind of terrifying.
-
“Hyung, that's cheating,” Jongin whines, trying to keep one eye on the screen and the other on Chanyeol's arms. Really, Chanyeol didn't have to resort to these measures, he's already the Mario Kart champion, but he liked to get up close and rile Jongin up. He digs his elbows into Jongin's ribs every chance he gets, and knocks his arm into Jongin's shoulder just to throw him off.
A competitive Jongin is one who's flushed and grinning, shoving back and yelping his complaints. “No fair,” he declares, and Chanyeol promptly ignores him. He's nearly at the finish line anyway, but it's fun to hear Jongin whine.
“I'm going to win anyway,” Chanyeol tells him. “Does it matter how I do it?” Jongin shouts with frustration, eyes bright and sharp, and he tosses the controller aside, abandoning it to pin Chanyeol to the couch.
It's not what Chanyeol was expecting. He squawks, Jongin's hands pressing flat against his shoulders and holding him down. “Cheaters don't deserve to win,” Jongin says, settling his weight against Chanyeol's waist and grinning triumphantly.
Every time Chanyeol tries to raise his hands to finish the race, Jongin knocks them away and finally, he just gives up. “Now who's a cheater?” he grumbles, and Jongin digs his thumbs into his shoulders hard enough to make him yelp.
“Shut up, hyung,” Jongin says. He's looking down at Chanyeol, and Jongin takes a deep breath, the way he does before they go out to an interview or a fanmeet and he's steeling himself to smile his way through it.
“What are you – ” In one lightning fast movement, Jongin darts down to press his mouth against Chanyeol's. It's fast and hard and then Jongin's straightening up again. He presses a finger against his bottom lip. Old habits die hard. “Huh.”
“Sorry.” Jongin moves to climb off the couch but Chanyeol catches him with a hand in the front of his worn t-shirt. It's enough to stop Jongin cold, his throat working and eyes wide with fear.
Chanyeol shakes his head. “No,” he says quickly, and Jongin relaxes just a fraction. Fingers tightening in Jongin's shirt, Chanyeol tugs hard enough to let Jongin know what he wants but not make him feel trapped. “Is this. Do you want this?”
Jongin's gaze is everywhere but on Chanyeol, desperately looking for an escape route. “Yes,” he says hoarsely.
“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin's eyes snap back to him. He hovers and Chanyeol pulls at his shirt again. “Okay.”
Hesitant fingers trace their way down the line of Chanyeol's nose, then his chin, and then Jongin is curling down, fitting his mouth to Chanyeol's. He lets Jongin control it all, hands pressing firmly against Chanyeol's ribs as he cautiously licks into his mouth. It sets off a roaring between Chanyeol's ears and his heart races out of control.
When Jongin straightens again, he has Chanyeol's face cupped in his palms. His face is astonished and pleased. “That was nice,” Chanyeol tells him breathlessly, and the smile Jongin flashes at him is like sunshine dawning on his face. Something in Chanyeol's chest melts away, irrevocably, and he can't even bring himself to care.
-
After that, there's an almost visible shift. Jongin has always been a little bit prickly, and he's always played favourites. And when Chanyeol goes from being someone who gets along with Jongin tolerably well to being Jongin's, it's a place he's never been in before.
It takes some getting used to, but he likes it. When they land in Incheon after SMTown Hong Kong, the fans are as noisy and rowdy as ever. Chanyeol tries to make the best of it, putting on a broad smile and nodding politely as he shifts his bag from one hand to the other. He's exhausted, they all are, worn down from the flight and the concert, and he doesn't even startle when he feels a hand grip the sleeve of his jacket.
Chanyeol hopes that his tiredness will mask the way that his throat tightens and a flush threatens to spread across his face. Jongin hates crowds and he loathes airports, and it's not the first time he's used one of them as a human shield against the noise and the eyes and the cameras. It's the first time he's reached for Chanyeol, though, and that knowledge makes Chanyeol a little bit lightheaded.
Jongin only lets go when he has to, and when they're climbing into the van he physically knocks Sehun out of the way so he can sit next to Chanyeol. Sehun glowers at him. “There are these things called words,” he says conversationally. “You should try them.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jongin says. When he settles down in the backseat, he's pressed closer to Chanyeol than is really necessary, thigh pressed up against Chanyeol's. “Me Jongin,” Jongin grunts and points at himself. “You dickbag.” Sehun throws his hat at him as he climbs into the middle seat but he lets Joonmyun quiet him, throwing himself down sullenly.
“Nice,” Chanyeol says to Jongin.
Jongin shrugs a shoulder, but he's avoiding Chanyeol's eye. “Wanted to sit here.” His fingers twitch against his legs, like he's holding them back, and he clears his throat. “Next to you,” he adds. Even though his voice is pitched just for Chanyeol's ears, Jongin sounds like he had to fight to get the words out.
Chanyeol rewards him with a broad grin. His hand drifts to brush up against Jongin's, and he watches him flinch away. His stomach clenches in a sickening way. It's okay, Chanyeol reminds himself. Jongin's weird about these touching things. It has to be on his terms. It still stings, though, especially since every time Jongin looks at him with shy eyes all Chanyeol wants to do is grab him and drag him in for a kiss, no matter where they are.
He takes solace though, in the warm press of Jongin against his side, and when, halfway back to the dorm, Jongin curls his pinky around his. When Chanyeol looks over, Jongin is studiously feigning sleep, but the tiny, satisfied smile gives him away. Chanyeol turns to look out the window, squeezing Jongin's finger in return and grinning to himself.
-
They never really talk about it. When Jongin holds up all of them by refusing to get out of bed until the last possible second, it still grates on Chanyeol's nerves. Jongin still snaps when Chanyeol steps left when he should be sliding right in dance practice.
Still, things have changed. When it's Chanyeol who comes to wake Jongin up, he still grumbles, but he actually climbs out of bed. After practice, Jongin apologizes the only way he knows how, pressing his sweaty forehead against Chanyeol's shoulder and smiling, hesitantly. And how could Chanyeol hold a grudge against that?
The thing is, it's not that Chanyeol is a romantic or anything, but he always thought that when he met someone he really wanted to be with, everything would still slide into place. And it hasn't, really. He keeps trying to tell himself that it's enough, that eventually they'll both adjust, but it bothers him far more than he lets on.
They have a rare few hours off one day, and Baekhyun and Joonmyun disappear to M's dorm to hang out with Yifan and Zitao. It's the first time that they've really had time off since this thing between him and Jongin started, and Chanyeol's hopeful that maybe they'll get to spend it together. He makes his way to Jongin's room and leans against the door frame. “Hey,” he says, deliberately casual. “Got any plans?”
Jongin looks up, he flashes him a smile. Chanyeol's heart is making a valiant effort to tap dance out of his chest. “No,” he says, and he climbs to his feet. He's always so cautious about touching Chanyeol, but every time he presses his nose to Chanyeol's jaw or his fingertips skate up the inside of Chanyeol's arm, the contact leaves fire in its wake. “Do you?”
There is no controlling the grin that spreads across Chanyeol's face. He turns towards Jongin, almost close enough to catch Jongin's mouth in a kiss, but he doesn't want to scare him off. He's about to suggest they steal Joonmyun's laptop and watch movies in bed, or do anything that involves them being close in a dark room. Unfortunately, he's interrupted when Sehun bellows Jongin's name from the kitchen. “We're going to grab something to eat,” he calls. “You guys coming?”
Jongin's eyes light up at the prospect of a good meal, and he knocks his shoulder against Chanyeol's. “That sounds like plans,” he says, and there's not a shred of malice in the way that he grabs a jacket and slides past Chanyeol, and runs to join Sehun and Kyungsoo in the kitchen. “C'mon, hyung.”
The disappointment winds into Chanyeol's chest immediately, and he tries to stamp it down. “Just a second,” he replies. He runs to his room to grab a coat and follows them out the door. Jongin's arm brushes up against his as they walk, and it sets off such a weird mix of sparks and confusion in him that he almost gets vertigo.
It's not like he doesn't like hanging out with Sehun and Kyungsoo, or going out to eat, but Chanyeol had kind of been looking forward to have Jongin all to himself. He'd been hoping that maybe, with the time alone, it would give Jongin the courage to inch closer, let Chanyeol fit his fingers between his. And of course, if he was really lucky, he'd been hoping for a chance to get familiar with the taste of Jongin's mouth.
Instead, here he is, trying to content himself with the fact that he's getting a real meal and that Jongin had insisted that Chanyeol sit next to him, tugging him down so forcefully that Chanyeol had almost fallen on top of him. When Chanyeol oh so casually curls a hand around Jongin's knee, though, Jongin flinches and stares at him, wide-eyed and panicked, until Chanyeol withdraws his hand.
It's fine, Chanyeol tells himself. They're in public and Jongin's always been picky about it anyway. But they're friends, and the touch could've passed for casual anyway, and while the rest of them laugh and chat, Chanyeol pastes on a smile and ignores the growing hollow ache in his chest.
-
The little things build up. Each one digs into Chanyeol's chest until sometimes just being around Jongin makes him tense up in painful anticipation. Jongin is such a contradiction. One minute, he's watching Chanyeol with eyes so alight with promise it leaves Chanyeol squirming; the next he's pulling his hand out of Chanyeol's the instant Sehun calls him over to watch some dance video.
Chanyeol is starting to get whiplash, and he doesn't know what to do. It's spilling into everything he does, and more and more he finds he has to push his smiles wider just to keep them from flagging. It hurts in this nagging, lingering ache that he can't shake off, stealing his sleep and his peace.
One night, when Jongin stays late for dance practice again, Chanyeol finds himself lounging around in his room with Baekhyun. It's been a while since they hung out, and Baekhyun is sprawled on his belly in his bed, chin propped up on one hand. “Who stole your smile?” he asks, eyes searching.
Chanyeol opens his mouth, caught off-guard, and then closes it, flashing him a grin. “It's right here,” he tells him.
Baekhyun has always been far too quick for that. “Don't try that model idol mask crap on me, please,” he scoffs. His eyes are sharp and a bit sad, and Chanyeol feels guilty. He's never felt good keeping secrets from Baekhyun. “I miss happy Chanyeol. I miss seeing you light up.”
“I'm not sad,” Chanyeol protests, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he hears the lie of it, and that scares him. Jongin makes him happy, but as much as it scares him to admit it, that's only sometimes. “I'm fine.”
Baekhyun's mouth twists unhappily. “Okay,” he says. He's not pretending that he buys that, but he's going to let it slide. “I'll believe that when you quit wandering around like a kicked puppy.” Chanyeol bites his lip and when he's not forthcoming with an explanation, Baekhyun sighs, hurt.
“I'm sorry,” Chanyeol says, a bit miserably. Baekhyun just nods and Chanyeol swallows back the feeling like maybe the negatives are starting to outweigh the positives in this thing he has with Jongin, whatever it is. It's a horrible, creeping feeling, one that sinks into his chest and refuses to let Chanyeol shake it off.
-
He does make an attempt to talk to Jongin about it. They're stuck in the airport one morning, killing time before they board the flight home from Malaysia, and Jongin has dragged Chanyeol off to one corner, away from the noise that Jongdae and Baekhyun are making, so he can doze on Chanyeol's shoulder. It's as good a time as any, Chanyeol supposes.
“Hey, can we talk?”
Jongin hums sleepily, and Chanyeol can tell when he opens his eyes by the way that his eyelashes brush across his throat. It stirs up butterflies in Chanyeol's belly and he exhales shakily.
“Is this...” It takes Chanyeol a few seconds to fit together the words the way he wants to, and it's mostly because he doesn't want to scare Jongin away. Sure, it hurts. But then Jongin curls up to him on the couch after dance practice, sweaty and tired and so sweet and Chanyeol melts all over again, all for that smile. “Is this what you want?”
Jongin straightens, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. “What do you mean?” he mumbles.
“I mean, you pull away when I try to hold your hand,” Chanyeol says hesitantly. “And we never really get a lot of time to y'know, be together.” He wishes they weren't in public right now. He can see the long lenses of fansite cameras and Baekhyun is carefully pretending not to be watching them. He sighs.
Jongin blinks at him. “But we can't do that stuff in public,” he says. “What if someone found out?” A thought occurs to Jongin and he freezes suddenly, eyes wary. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Chanyeol's mouth says without his volition. He pastes on that smile again and Jongin relaxes. Chanyeol wishes he wouldn't. He wishes that just this once, Jongin would read his body language and he'd know what Chanyeol was trying to communicate. “Just thinking,” he adds.
The plane ride back is a nightmare. Jongin claims the seat next to Chanyeol and drools on his shoulder but Chanyeol can't sleep. Like this, he can't move, staying steady so that Jongin can catch a few more precious hours of sleep. It gives him too much time to stew over the things that have already been swimming around in his head.
Something has to give, that much is for sure. He can't do this for too much longer. He could never deny the warmth that Jongin's smile sets sparking off in his chest, or the way that Jongin's possessive fingers around his wrist can erase the exhaustion from a day of hard practice. The thing is, Jongin has an uncanny talent of casually snuffing that warmth out.
He's well-meaning, but Jongin is careless, hurtful in a way he doesn't even intend. Somehow, that almost makes it worse. If Jongin were malicious, if he intended to make Chanyeol ache the way that he does, then it would be so easy for him to just pull away, cut this off. But he doesn't, and instead Chanyeol is left confused and hurting and, if he's honest, wanting something he's not sure he'll ever get.
That thought, once clarified, hits Chanyeol like a punch in the gut. Jongin is stubborn and contrary, loathe to change, and how can Chanyeol know that this will ever be different? Can he spend his life waiting for Jongin to come to him when it suits him? He knows the answer to that, of course, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to, because it makes his chest clench painfully and tears threaten at the corner of his eyes.
When they touch down in Korea, Chanyeol is numb. He feels tired and worn and when Jongin grins at him, the best he can manage is a ghost of a smile.
He justifies it by telling himself that it's better this way, for everyone. Sometimes these things aren't meant to be. Still, the hollow throb in his chest won't go away. “Are you alright?” Joonmyun asks him softly, right before he climbs into the van. Jongin is holding an earbud out for Chanyeol, watching him expectantly.
“Jetlagged, maybe?” Chanyeol offers, and Joonmyun accepts it with a nod. He slides in next to Jongin, and now when he presses up against Chanyeol's side, Chanyeol is so seized with hurt and regret for what could have been he wants to cry. He listens to Jongin's terrible dubstep without complaint, dodging Baekhyun's prying eyes and forcing a smile.
He knows that sometimes Jongin likes to curl up in bed after a flight, just zone out and do nothing, but Chanyeol catches his arm before he can slip into his bedroom. “Hey,” he says. “Do you have a moment?”
Jongin smiles and nods, and in his eyes, Chanyeol can see it all end.
no subject
particular things i liked were all the realistic bits where jongin shied away, and the way that was so much like him and why it would hurt someone like chanyeol who seems to touch as easy as breathing.
ugh i am secretly hoping kai gets his shit together when he realizes what he really wants goddamnit.
also your chanyeol is spot-on i am unsure about your worries.
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thank you!! i love how their weird habits abt skinship make them kind of fundamentally incompatible tbh. in my head chanyeol and jongin never rly get over it and they're awkward around each other for months/years but try to cover it up (jongin fails) and eventually jongin figures out why they broke up?? so he starts like, being all touchy and then chanyeol's like WHOA WHAT PLANET AM I ON and jongin's like didn't you want this?? and then they make out a lot.
♥♥♥ tbh i am always nervous abt writing the ones i don't stan so thank youuuu
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NO IM NOT OKAY I REFUSE NO NO NO
no the way this built i am no i. every time jongin curls chanyeol closer and then pushes him straight back without even realizing it, because thats how he works with people and he cant say things outright and cant see things outright and chanyeol hurts and no no no nooooooo.
Jongin hums sleepily, and Chanyeol can tell when he opens his eyes by the way that his eyelashes brush across his throat. It stirs up butterflies in Chanyeol's belly and he exhales shakily.
no :(
i also love the chronological thing you did with this? when chanyeol ends everything and you show all that lead up to that need to break off from jongin after, and (((Jongin smiles and nods, and in his eyes, Chanyeol can see it all end.))))
yep that was incredible thank you 5k i love when things are longer than expected you hurt me so good
wait also you liar you told me you couldnt do poetic
Maybe, Chanyeol thinks, maybe that's because this isn't the breaking point. This is the aftermath.
beautiful ;;;;;;;;;
WAIT AGAIN YOUR JONGIN IS MY FAVORITE JONGIN
“Yeah, okay,” Jongin says. When he settles down in the backseat, he's pressed closer to Chanyeol than is really necessary, thigh pressed up against Chanyeol's. “Me Jongin,” Jongin grunts and points at himself. “You dickbag.” !!!!!!!!!!!!
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the push/pull way that jongin handles people is kind of fascinating to me he's simultaneously such a typical teenager and an odd little duck fav forever ♥_____♥
YES
i tend to write very linear fashion but this time nav suggested i switch it up and i'm glad that i did!! now it's an eternal cycle of pain and suffering. I'M GLAD I COULD MAKE YOU HURT
that is not poetic stop ;~;
I RLY LIKE WRITING TEENAGE BOYS THEY'RE FUN
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jongin you are so dumb smfh WHY but poor poor chanyeol i just want to give him a hug
i wish they'd stay together but i guess it might be a better decision for him in the end ;_______;
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thank youuuuu
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But I think even if this fic didn't speak to me on such a personal level, it'd still be heart-wrenching. I love the way you write those two. ♥ Would you write more Chanyeol/Kai? They're such a fascinating pairing! They seem so incompatible and they'd have to work so hard to be together but they have this against-all-odds-feeling that I really like. ;___; ♥
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thank you so much!! i rly am fond of these two for exactly that reason. suuuuuch a weakness for underdogs lmao but i probably will!! thank you so much for reading ♥
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but i refuse tbh
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Chanyeol ended up the relationship, didn't he ? I can feel the pain and the rut feeling he felt all way long god I wonder why they had to be like that. They make a beautiful pairing really. And you wrote it beautifully ♥ I love you ♥
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My heart aches though. Like I wanted jongin to lean forward and grasp his hand and shush him with a kiss. Omg my heart...
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But I still am going to pretend Jongin gets his shit together and everything works out.You're an amazing writer, I really enjoy your stuff!!
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thank you so much!! i really do appreciate that
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(Anonymous) 2014-04-18 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)i've been reading through your stuff all day and you're a really great writer!! ahh i didn't think i'd end up commenting weirdly like this >n< but anyhow, all your stuff is amazing, and i hope you keep up writing as long as you want to and as long as it makes you happy c: <3
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it's not weird!! it's a very nice comment, and i appreciate how respectful you are. thank you so much for reading!! i like writing a lot and i hope to keep doing it for a while ♥