![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
exo: harbor (3/3)
Baekhyun wakes up with sweat sticking to the back of his elbows and knees. It isn't uncomfortable, but it does make him feel more gross than the usual. He can smell the stink of fried food and alcohol in his hair, can feel his stomach tossing and turning with every breath he takes. It's not the alcohol. It's all those spicy food and fried food they'd eaten after downing two bottles of soju. They even had ice cream after that so that definitely fucked up their system. They had makgeolli after sending off Lu Han and the others, though, so maybe that had a hand in things as well. Or maybe it was the last bottle of soju that they'd downed in the playground at two in the morning at work. Baekhyun was sitting on the base of the slide then, and Kyungsoo had his back pressed to Baekhyun's crossed legs. So the pain in his ankles makes sense. The dull ache in his jaw, as well. Soft mumbling reaches his ears, and he looks down to find Kyungsoo's face buried in his chest. He holds his breath, gurgles, then lets the air out when Kyungsoo meets his gaze. Last night's events are as clear as crystal in his mind. They did this tiny peck during EXO's encore number. He made friends after singing on stage. He even helped the band get a cab even if he was tipsier than they were. "His sense of direction's awful," Minseok had mentioned then before waving at a cab passing by. Lu Han made a show of looking in both directions before teetering forward. "You'd think he'd have memorized Hongdae by now, three years after, but no." And then Kyungsoo teased him about stepping outside his anti-social bubble. Kissed him, too, to mess up with his brain even more. And then after a heartbeat, when he could feel his lips again, he kissed back. Finally took a leap of faith and pulled Kyungsoo down with him. If he was going to hell then he might as well go down in style. He might as well drown in the sea with Kyungsoo, the taste of salt and soju thick on Kyungsoo's tongue. "You should be–" Kyungsoo sniffs, scrunches his nose, groans. "You smell awful. Isn't your trip back to Sokcho-si at ten?" Baekhyun blinks a few times. "But it's just–" "Nine." Kyungsoo chuckles, then cocks his head in the direction of the wall clock. "And you take forever to shower, so–" Baekhyun lets his face fall forward, burying his nose in Kyungsoo's hair. Kyungsoo smells like smoke and samgyupsal. And a hint of mint. Maybe he needs to switch shampoos soon, start using Kyungsoo's. That way, he can carry Kyungsoo's scent wherever he goes. It's the quickest bath after that – a record of ten minutes that Baekbeom applauds him on – and when he emerges from the bathroom the bed has already been made. Not a single crease in the sheets, not even a hint that two bodies slept on the same bed. Not a trace of Kyungsoo left in a room Baekhyun has come to consider home. He grips the towel wrapped around his waist tight, then looks around as if searching for clues. Kyungsoo must have left something, anything that Baekhyun can hold on to. He can't just leave like this, today. "He left five minutes ago," comes Baekbeom's voice. Baekhyun looks up, meeting his brother's gaze. He's holding up a folded piece of paper. It's red. Baekhyun crosses that out as a goodbye message from Kyungsoo. "Said he'll have to make sure Seungsoo doesn't eat instant noodles for breakfast again. And that they'll be going back to Sokcho-si next week." "Next week?" Next week is too far away. Seven days is a long time. They have to talk – about last night, about waking up in each other's arms, about having trouble promising not to kiss each other every chance they get. "Did he say why?" "College apps. K-ARTS' opens tomorrow. Then there's SKY, too." Baekbeom moves closer and reaches out, hand quickly changing trajectory when he realizes Baekhyun is topless. He ruffles his brother's hair, instead. "They'll be back in time for Kyungsoo's birthday. At least that's what your little friend told me. He seemed… I dunno, he looked as if he wanted to say more but he was rushing to leave the house." Baekhyun snorts. It's typical of Kyungsoo to summarize his thoughts when he's afraid of divulging the unpolished ones, the ideas that occur to him off the top of his head. "He's still a dick," he mumbles, then unwraps the towel around his waist to throw it in Baekbeom's direction. Baekbeom catches it with his face, and Baekhyun turns around even before Baekbeom can catch his vacant expression turning into a frown. 'cudnt even say goodbye :c asshole :c,' he texts Kyungsoo later, just before hauling his backpack over his shoulder. When Baekbeom asks him to pick up the other luggage in the porch, he catches sight of a familiar tuft of hair just around the block. He doesn't squint, doesn't lean closer, doesn't even fish for his phone from his pocket when it gives a light buzz. Instead, he wraps the scarf – a bright yellow scarf that smells too much like sweat and strawberries and mint – tighter and buries his nose in it. When he closes his eyes, he sees the sea, feels the waves rushing to his feet. And then there's Kyungsoo's voice at the back of his head, a familiar warmth pressed to the back of his ear, as Kyungsoo whispers, "I'm home." If there's one thing other than silence that Baekhyun hates, it's traveling. Spending an hour in the bus isn't so bad, but taking a nine-hour trip from one city to another is just unreal. His music player died on him two hours ago, and his phone has stopped becoming useful as he watches the battery whittle down to 12%. When you power through ten levels of Angry Birds in an attempt to rid yourself of boredom, a two-year old phone's battery can only survive for too long. Baekhyun looks outside the window, at the darkness of the night. The roads have begun to look familiar again. He unlocks his phone and checks the time – close to eight in the evening. They should be an hour or so away from the terminal. It's already nine in the evening when they arrive. Through the mist in Baekhyun's eyes when he wakes up from his nap, he can make out a few faces. Tall guy with messy hair over there, short guy with fake glasses just beside him. There's someone who looks a lot like Chanyeol, except she's a girl. And she's ten times prettier. And then there's his brother waving in front of him, saying, "Y'know, it would be nice if you helped me with the luggage." "Yeah. Right." He rubs his eyes, then catches the high five that Chanyeol throws at him. He bumps into Jongdae in the process, and just sinks into the warmth of Jongdae's arms around his shoulders when he lets fatigue wash over him. It takes a while for him to stir, the heat of two pairs of arms engulfing him in the cool weather, so he keeps himself entangled in the web of limbs as he makes his way to where their luggages are. "We look stupid," Jongdae says, laughing a little. "You look stupid," Baekhyun mumbles. He elbows both of them in their stomachs, then blows them each a kiss before grabbing their bags by the handle. "Who even goes out in winter without a scarf?" Chanyeol cocks an eyebrow at him, the corners of his mouth pulling up in violent laughter. Jongdae shakes his head and picks up the remaining luggage off the floor, carrying it to where Baekbeom is. Sokcho-si hasn't changed much in the past week that Baekhyun was away. The snow's thicker now and most of the elders have been forbidding kids from running to the far end of the beach, but the sea hasn't frozen over yet. There's still kelp along the shore, albeit fewer than before. The tiny tent where Yixing marinades and grills fish he wasn't able to sell in the morning is still there. Sokcho-si's beach is still free of aluminum wrappers and bottles and bottle caps. And three bodies sitting on the beach, on a sheet of plastic that they've laid down on the sand, aren't enough to make the place a little less big. "Snacks," Jongdae announces, bringing a bag of dried seafood with him. Chanyeol has three clear bottles filled to the brim, slightly uncapped. The liquid inside looks strangely like a suspension instead of clear water. Baekhyun sort of slinks away until he bumps into Jongdae. "And I got dried squid especially for you. Still your favorite, right?" "Oh. Yeah. Thanks," Baekhyun mumbles. He lays a sheet of plastic down on the beach before arranging the snacks there. He shakes his head when Chanyeol hands him one of the bottles, then snarls when Chanyeol shoves it in his chest. "Well, next to hwaleo hoe, it is, but I guess this will do." "Beggars can't be choosers," Chanyeol says between munching on his own snack. He'd mixed some pretzels and cheese sticks in the bag of dried whatever Jongdae had given him earlier. Baekhyun's sort of grateful that the lighting here is dim, else he'll have to deal with Chanyeol and his gross eating mannerisms. "We made that, by the way, Jongdae and I. Figured we could make a little something for your 'grand return' or something–" "It's leftover from New Year's," Jongdae confesses. Chanyeol shoots him a stern look, and Baekhyun only cackles in response. "Jongdeok-hyung had the weirdest idea of baking them in an oven and it worked. So… yeah! Dried squid! Yum!" Chanyeol talks about the past few days in detail, or at least with as much detail as his memory can hold. Jongdeok finally had his rundown car repaired and Chanyeol almost rammed it into a tree when he took it for 'an easy test drive'. Yura almost went ballistic when she had to pick up her brother from the police station. Jongdeok was 'pretty chill' about it because he knew half of Jongdae's allowance would go to having the car repaired so he wouldn't be the only one shouldering the cost for getting the car fixed. Joonmyun is in town, apparently, visiting until second week of January. Yixing got a haircut that makes him look, "Ten times more handsome, if that's even possible," Jongdae comments. Baekhyun only nods at that, eyebrows furrowed. Jongdae has never expressed in Yixing before. He clears his throat, then takes a long swig of whatever Chanyeol's making him drink. "God-fucking-dammit, Yeol– This is–" He licks the back of his teeth and that's when it hits him – the lightness of the taste of alcohol, the texture that it leaves on his tongue once the liquid goes down. The fact that he should be thankful that this is makgeolli and not soju because another bottle might confine him to the bathroom the whole day tomorrow. "This is good but I asked for water. Wa–ter–" Jongdae clinks his plastic bottle with Baekhyun's and takes a swig, as well. "Now, this one Yeol and I really made from scratch. A month ago." He seethes when the burn of alcohol on his lips stings his skin. "While you were busy trying to figure out what to do with your life after Sooneung." "Hey, I think it's a valid… life struggle," Baekhyun counters. He nudges Jongdae in his side, and Jongdae almost chokes on whatever he's snacking on. He takes a sip of his makgeolli and thinks, vengeance is fucking sweet. "And… you said Yixing-hyung's looking better?" Jongdae snorts. "Of course, you'd focus on that." He rolls his eyes and leans to his side, head coming to rest on Chanyeol's shoulder. "I underestimated your long-enduring crush for him. I thought my now you'd have moved on because–" "Because?" "Oh, yknow." Jongdae snickers, then purses his lips like he's up to something bad. He probably is. "Because you've finally come full circle about a certain someone." Baekhyun snorts. He's seen this conversation coming from a mile away, has felt it coming the moment he saw the tiny particles that have settled on the bottom of the bottles Chanyeol had in his hand. He's talked to Jongdae about it in bits in pieces over text or Facebook, whichever worked better at that moment, but it's always been the same question: 'when the hell did you guys figure this out?' If it took him two whole decades to realize that he might have, sort of been a bit too enamoured with his best friend then it must have taken the other two longer. It must have taken them more than a few puzzle pieces to put one and one together. Baekhyun has spent years trying to dissect their relationship, trying to figure Kyungsoo out, and only during that trip to Seoul, in broad daylight, did the realization hit him: that man sitting opposite him, showing him around the city and slowly easing him into something new, that's the guy his heart beats for. It isn't Joonmyun or Yixing or Sunyoung. It's Kyungsoo, the same guy who saw him pee along the shore when they were eight, the guy who aged with him as he threw away his diapers. The guy who's slept in his bed too many times that he's already lost count and has wanted to kiss him all this time, but never did. "You can say his name," Chanyeol teases. Baekhyun rolls his eyes and raises a fist in response, but drops it even before Chanyeol can jerk back. "Oh boy, you're becoming like him. Am I watching one of those cute anime where the protagonists begin to share habits after admitting their feelings for each other?" Jongdae laughs a little. "They were already doing the nose rubbing thing even before they confessed to each other," he replies. He twists his mouth to the side, then adds, "So it's a different kind of anime. Still probably one of those shoujo ones you love watching–" "Will you two just shut up?" The laughter dies down after a while, with a quarter left in the bag of snacks Jongdae had brought for them earlier. "It still feels weird, y'know? I mean, it's not everyday you wake up and realize–" The slow-forming smile on both Chanyeol's and Jongdae's lips catches his attention. He narrows his eyes at them in response, slows himself down in his speech. "–that you want to kiss your best friend or maybe make out with him. And do more with him." Baekhyun recalls the way Kyungsoo had let out a throaty sigh when Baekhyun nibbled on his bottom lip and sucked on it until Baekhyun couldn't feel his mouth anymore. He takes a deep breath and leans forward. He crosses his arms over his legs. "It's… I dunno, it's all so new to me. I have boy crushes but I crush on them from afar." "Maybe that's the thing," Jongdae says. He munches on the remaining food in his mouth, then swallows hard before continuing. "You two were too close then that you… Okay, this will sound really cheesy but maybe that was what kept you two from finding each other?" Baekhyun furrows his eyebrows. Leans back, too, until he can feel the cool press of the sand against his palms. Maybe it is true – he and Kyungsoo have always kept each other too close for comfort that sometimes it's hard for them to see past that veil of familiarity. He senses Kyungsoo, knows how Kyungsoo moves and can dance to its rhythm because Kyungsoo's just right beside him. Easy. Convenient. And when Kyungsoo made a move to leave their tiny city, to purse his dreams in Seoul and put all these spaces between them, that's when Baekhyun made sense of all the distances between them that he's gotten used to: three centimeters between their knuckles when they stand beside each other. Ten millimeters of space until a comfortable arm around the shoulder becomes a breach of Kyungsoo's private space. The section in a song between the first verse and the chorus keeping them from singing together. The waves that keep crashing against their feet as they walk on the sand, erasing their crossing paths and the points where their lines are supposed to meet. "Yeah," Baekhyun whispers. Chokes, because there's a thick lump of something in his throat that can be a combination of the dried squid and unspoken words. "I think… I think you're right." Chanyeol looks around for an audience for a while, then raises his half-empty bottle of makgeolli. "To Baekhyun and Kyungsoo no longer being stupid?" he says, voice lilting like he isn't sure if they should be celebrating with makgeolli or something stronger. Jongdae raises his own bottle in agreement, though, drawing it to the center of their circle. Baekhyun fiddles with the bottle cap for a while before lifting his bottle off the thin sheet of plastic. The condensation clinging to the bottle hasn't evaporated yet, and he feels his hand slide of the surface. So he tightens his hold on it, unmindful of the droplets of water trickling down the back of his hand and leaving a cool, stinging sensation on the path it traces. "To Baekhyun and Kyungsoo no longer being stupid," Baekhyun repeats in surrender. He gets on his knees to meet the bottles raised in the air, then makes a tiny 'clinking' sound at the same time that the other two do. Chanyeol roars in laughter, and Jongdae shakes his head at him before slapping Chanyeol hard on the arm. He leans back to get a better picture of the scene – Chanyeol too red in the face, Jongdae with his nose buried in Chanyeol's thigh as his body gives tiny jerks. The way Chanyeol's fingers are automatically drawn to Jongdae's messy hair, twirling strands in the digits of his fingers. He stays right there, a few good spaces away, and watches the scene unfold in front of him. The pull of fatigue and alcohol on his eyelids may be too strong, but he fights it. He keeps staring. He keeps watching. Four days feels like forever if you're crossing them off with a red marker on your calendar. Baekhyun ran out of red ink two days ago, so he's switched to green. It looks better on paper, after all – less angry, but neater – and doesn't make those ninety-six hours feel like hell. It alleviates the anxiety a little, if the doodles on the date boxes are anything to go by. The first day, Baekhyun drew an angry potato. The second day, he just drew a potato with furrowed eyebrows. The next two days saw doodles of apples with rainbows in the background. Jongdae's helpful contribution is a star to the apple's left. Chanyeol's is a heart. "So," Jongdae begins, giving Baekhyun's arm a light squeeze, "Ready?" Baekhyun snorts. It sounds as if he's competing in an Olympic event. He's just picking someone up from the bus station; he shouldn't even be dressed like he's going to a gig. "I feel stupid." "That's not something we can fix so easily but hey–" Chanyeol gives him a pat on the back. "You're a stunner! You look great! You actually brushed your teeth!" "I am going to dismember you, Park Chanyeol," Baekhyun says through gritted teeth. He cracks his knuckles, then takes a few steps closer to the bus headed to the station. "When I come back. You better be ready." "I'm ready for you, baby," Chanyeol replies, ending with a wink. Baekhyun looks away so he won't have to see Chanyeol making those gun motions in tandem with his shrill 'ping ping pings'. The sound effects are already bad, as it is. The truth is that while Baekhyun has been preparing for this, Kyungsoo isn't supposed to arrive until tomorrow morning. Or at least that was the plan. Then Kyungsoo called him two days ago, saying that he's done with his applications. It was a great experience. "I… have a favor." Kyungsoo made a dramatic pause that probably would have ticked him off if he didn't need help. "Can you pick us up on the 11th? Hyung found a way to reschedule our trip and it turns out we're going home earlier than expected." Baekhyun said yes without a second thought. Then he realized he had his own school applications to take care of, made a promise to Yixing that he'll help out with the haul, come up with something presentable that he can give to Kyungsoo as a birthday present. When Kyungsoo asked him again, after the long silence, he'd said, "Yeah, sure, why not?" Then he hit himself with a pillow. Jongdae laughed at him silly and offered to help Yixing in his stead. Chanyeol broached the topic of presents and said, "You still have his lucky sticks, right?" Of course, he has them. They're in his desk drawer, wrapped in too much bubble wrap. He's been meaning to get Kyungsoo a new one, but it won't be the same. No two pairs of sticks are alike, after all. The station isn't as packed with people as he'd expected. The crowd thickens here here and there, groups of teenagers to both his left and right, but for the most part the station offers a certain brand of calm. There's none of the Christmas rush that he'd experienced in Seoul, none of the people rushing from one side of the street to another in an effort to get as much in their to-do list done. He sort of misses the chaos, that tiny speck of noise in his otherwise quiet life. He laughs to himself. Seoul has changed him, turned him into some person who sees a home in cities he lives in. Half of him is still stuck at the bottom of the sea; the other half is in Hongdae, crushed by the thick crowd. He takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes, then refocuses his vision. It's close to three in the afternoon now. The Do brothers should be here any minute. Another ten minutes pass until Kyungsoo's bus arrives. Baekhyun stands from his seat when the bus number is called out in the PA system, the tips of his toes tingling with something akin to anticipation. The crowd that emerges from the doors isn't too big, just enough to blur his vision for a while, but Kyungsoo stands out with his all black get up, his brown hair the only thing that breathes color into his outfit. His hair is a bit tousled, messy. It's like Seoul's air got too attached to him and clung to his air like a lifeline. Baekhyun chuckles. He takes a deep breath when sunlight kisses Kyungsoo's hair, makes light trickle down to reveal big eyes beneath his bangs. There are two spots of red on his cheek. He must have been asleep for most part of the trip, but it isn't evident in his stride. There's a quiet sort of confidence to it, one Kyungsoo has always had but multiplied tenfold with the way he holds his chin up high, head cocked to the side. This is a mix of Sokcho-si's Do Kyungsoo and Seoul's Do Kyungsoo. A nice, smooth blend, the kind that leaves you with a warm sensation curling at the pit of your stomach. He gulps down hard. His insides do a funny tumble. It makes him want to throw up. His fingers grow cold in the tight fit of his gloves and the pulse in his temples throbs with the same intensity as the thumping in his chest does and dammit, the afternoon sun sets Kyungsoo aglow. Magnifies whatever light Kyungsoo has been keeping inside him and amplifies it enough to blind the whole street. Kyungsoo looks around for a familiar face, eyebrows in a tight knot. Two beats, and he shifts his gaze to his right, close to where Baekhyun is. He could be looking at anyone – the kid a foot away, the man at his back, the nice lady in a bright coat who's the same height as Baekhyun. He could be looking at nothing at all. But Kyungsoo's gaze zones in on him, eyebrows furrowing then easing then furrowing just a little again as the corners of his lips tug up in recognition. "Hey," Kyungsoo mouths. His lips fall open into a full smile, the bow of his mouth curving up. "Hey," Baekhyun says right back. The sound leaves his lips in a hush, fading into the noise all around them. Kyungsoo doesn't say much during the trip home. He drops occasional comments on the snow, how it's risen up to his ankles. "Or maybe my knees. I get it – I'm small." He points at Seoraksan that's now clothed in a thick blanket of white, then whispers, "It's prettier in autumn." Their elbows touch, and Baekhyun feels a sliver of electricity shoot up his arm, wrapping around his neck. It numbs his for a bit, enough for him to not notice that Kyungsoo has already leaned in. Enough for him to take five whole seconds to process that Kyungsoo's too close again, and that he's tracing patterns on Kyungsoo's thigh without meaning to. That Kyungsoo's breath feels hot on his cheek, and that this feels all too familiar. One cold night in Hongdae, faces too close that their noses almost touched. The taste of soju and makgeolli and too much spicy food in Kyungsoo's mouth as Baekhyun licked his way inside, trying to memorizing its wicked contours. The way Kyungsoo had kissed him and left hints of scars on his lips, but always kept his touch feather-light. "We'll talk," Kyungsoo whispers. He sniffs, then rubs the tip of his nose. "Later, once we've settled down. I owe you an explanation. For a lot of things." He scratches at his pants, then looks up to meet Baekhyun in the eye. "Stay up with me later? After the party? I know you guys are throwing me one." "Shit," Baekhyun groans. He holds Kyungsoo's gaze a little longer, then tries to wear his best grin. "What if we were planning to hold it tomorrow? Or never?" "You like lavish parties with your hand-picked favorites. And we do this every year." Kyungsoo finishes with a wink and leans his head on Baekhyun's shoulder. Baekhyun doesn't shake this time, doesn't shiver. Instead, he leans right back and blows puffs of hot air into the crown of Kyungsoo's head until Kyungsoo twists one of his nipples. "Three, two, one and– Happy birthday!" The confetti comes out with a loud pop that startles Chanyeol a little. He lands on his ass on the beach, sending the sand all around them flying, but Kyungsoo's quick to elude so he won't get crushed under Chanyeol's weight. The last time it happened, Kyungsoo's limbs ached so badly that Chanyeol had to commit to being his slave for an entire month. It resulted to Chanyeol carrying Kyungsoo's books around and getting him banana uyuu whenever he wished. It was funny the first two weeks; on the third week, Chanyeol began to look pathetic. On the last week, Kyungsoo took pity and gave him a scarf. Chanyeol hugged Kyungsoo's legs together and said, "Master has given Chanyeol a scarf! Chanyeol is free!" Today, Kyungsoo only suffers from getting sand in his eyes. Baekhyun helps him get it out, blowing out tiny puffs of air that turn stronger by the second. Half a second after, Kyungsoo flails his arms around and almost smacks Baekhyun in the face. "Stop– You're making my eyes go dry–" he groans, blinking a few times to refocus his vision. His eyes are watery and red by the time he resurfaces. Baekhyun grins up at him, unapologetic, and slips right beside him on the beach. The traditional Bro Code birthday 'welcoming' feast usually involves a real table and real chairs, but they've done away with those for today. They've laid down a mat on the sand earlier. And a sheet of plastic underneath because, "We are not lounging on the beach with six inches of snow all around us," Kyungsoo had said. "No way." It's one of their usual picnics, except they're eating meat and not seafood. Samgyupsal instead of the usual hwaleo hoe. Kimchi jjigae instead of gamja ongsimi. The only thing that hasn't changed is the miyeok-guk that Baekhyun shoves in Kyungsoo's direction. "Eat up," he whispers as he moves the bowl closer to Kyungsoo. He shifts in his seat, kneeling now, and inches closer until he and Kyungsoo are knee-to-knee. "C'mon, birthday boy. I took time to make this for you. You can't just put this to waste." Kyungsoo tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he meets Baekhyun's gaze. "You made miyeok-guk. For me," he says, slow and deliberate, like he hadn't heard Baekhyun clearly earlier. Baekhyun's sure he hadn't eaten his words – his vocabulary may not be the most extensive beyond puns and expletives, but he does know his language inside and out that he's certain he hadn't messed anything up. 'I made this for you' sounds nothing like 'hey, treat this as a sign of my undying love'. It might as well be one, though, with the way Kyungsoo tries to fight that tiny quirk of the lip that keeps surfacing on a corner of his mouth. "You made some birthday soup for me when you hate cooking for your brother. Are you sick or something?" Baekhyun sucks in a breath, bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. The bowl remains warm in his hand, too warm to the point that he can feel the skin on his palms thinning. Hypersensitive. "Your mom's on a business trip so I thought I'd–" He smushes his own cheeks with one hand like he means to rearrange his thoughts like this. Like he's planning to make sense of his emotions by moving around the puzzle pieces in his mind. "It's not that hard to do. I mean, you just have to make sure that you're not using the regular kelp for the soup because that's supposed to be for the stock and that will ruin the taste–" "Baekhyun," Kyungsoo says, voice dropping low. He cups Baekhyun's hands with his own and smiles, just a light tug at the corner of his mouth. "You didn't have to explain the whole thing. I just wanted to know if you made it, yourself. With the help of a Youtube tutorial." Baekhyun frowns, and Kyungsoo laughs a little in response. Slowly, Kyungsoo draws the bowl close to his lips and takes a sip, and another, and another. "It's perfect. Thank you." "Meat's finally cooked! We can eat now!" Jongdae calls out, a plate filled with strips of meat on one hand. He slows down in pace as he approaches the picnic area, the small smile on his lips blooming into a shit-eating grin. Baekhyun's never wanted to throw kelp at Jongdae, in the face, this much until today. "Or would you rather eat something else?" "Whoops. We forgot the rice," Chanyeol says as he arrives, carrying a tray with bowls of rice. There's some tiny containers with gochujang, as well as glasses of water. Two bottles of soju and four shot glasses. A disaster waiting to happen all in one tray. Kyungsoo finishes the soup in one noisy slurp, then seethes as soon as he sets the bowl down on Jongdae's tray. "You can take that out, thanks," he mumbles, then winks. "And I guess we can settle for your burnt samgyupsal. I can't count on you guys to cook meat to perfection." So after the first round of meat and rice, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo take over grilling duties. They're much closer to the Do residence now, a good twenty, twenty-five feet away from where Chanyeol and Jongdae are. They've had a couple of shots of soju already, but not enough to blur Baekhyun's vision. He can still pick up the tongs without difficulty, take one slab of meat after another and place them on the grill in an orderly fashion. "This is a stick figure of a house," Baekhyun says when he takes a step back, chin tilted up in pride. "Meat… stick figure of a house," he corrects, and that's when Kyungsoo snatches the tongs from him. "Hey, I was doing so well! I haven't burnt any of the meat yet!" "I have an idea," Kyungsoo says, voice dropping to a whisper. He whips out a shot glass filled with soju out of thin air – or maybe from the other table nearby – and drizzles a little on the meat stick figure of the house. The flame beneath the food sizzle, crackles, and Baekhyun has to step further away to shield himself from the heat. "Relax, we won't burn the whole grill down." "Yeah," Baekhyun snorts. He inches closer, bit by bit, until he can rest his chin on Kyungsoo's shoulder. "Just the meat." "At least it's not the house." "Well, yeah–" Baekhyun wrinkles his nose when Kyungsoo shifts, movements sudden, and jerks back when he feels something hot pressed to his lips. "What the–" "Meat with special sauce for the special kid," Kyungsoo explains. He raises both eyebrows as if to say, 'Come on, eat up. You'll still wake up tomorrow feeling the same way, don't worry.' The same way. Baekhyun chuckles. If Kyungsoo had any idea of how he was feeling at the moment then maybe he'd wish a quarter of it away. Still, he parts his lips and takes the meat between his teeth, the mix of gochujang and meat and something spreading in his mouth. He can taste a hint of soju in there somewhere, mild enough to go unnoticed at the first bite but strong enough to blur Baekhyun's vision for a moment. Then Kyungsoo steadies him with a hand on his arm, grips him tight as he says, "You're a better drinker than this." He laughs, his bouts of laughter each a second apart. It reaches Baekhyun's ears, steadies him like a light in the dark guiding him home. "I haven't been drinking much," Baekhyun begins, then leans back against the table close to the grill. "Since I left Seoul, I mean. Well, the three of us had makgeolli when I got back but it's not the same." The alcohol here at Sokcho-si isn't the same. The drinking crowd here isn't the same as that of Seoul's. There are no people going around, giving random hugs and pats on the back and free alcohol. There's no open mic event where Baekhyun can just sing his heart out without thinking of the order of the songs he'll perform, if it's a great set, if he'll leave a great impression at the end of the performance. All he has to worry about is going flat or sharp; everything else, be it a mishap or something so magical that he can't recognize his own voice above the disarming performance, is part of the singing experience. People there don't know him. He can screw up and still get a second chance at life. Here in Sokcho-si, everyone knows him. If he so much as appears on stage with a pimple, he'll make the front page of the newspaper. Or maybe just the lifestyle section. Here in Sokcho-si, there's no spotlight to shine upon Kyungsoo, to illuminate the hidden kinks of his face. To wash him out. Baekhyun has to make do with the light in the flame catching on the curve of Kyungsoo's face to see him and see him better. "You miss Seoul, that's what you're saying." Baekhyun snorts. "Stop putting words in my mouth." "There are other things I'd like to do to your mouth," Kyungsoo begins. He hasn't looked up from turning over the meat yet, but Baekhyun can make out the flush on his cheeks. The light quirk of his lips, too, when he glances at Baekhyun from a corner of his eye. "Stuffing them with my own words isn't one of them." In a blind leap of faith, Baekhyun swallows down all the questions at the back of his head and focuses on just one – 'why am I not kissing you'. "Oh yeah? Like what?" Kyungsoo pauses midway through picking up a slab, then lets out a low exhale. "Things not safe for public scrutiny." "Oooh," Baekhyun singsongs. "Kinky." "That's not even at the top of the list." He places the same slab down and moves it closer. The meat is still forming a house. Baekhyun feels a bit accomplished. "Number one would be to kiss you until you can't talk anymore. Then the world would be a better place." Kyungsoo sets the tongs down on the plate and faces Baekhyun. His eyes are half-mast, a bit sullen, but that's probably the alcohol at work. That and fatigue – they've never been a good combination, after all. Baekhyun can see right through him, though, can make out the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the way his cheeks tug up. The flame in the grill flares up, casts Kyungsoo a harsh glow for a moment, then it's gone, replaced instead by soft highlights on Kyungsoo's eyelids, the gentle slope of his nose, the bow of his mouth. There's still a good five minutes until the meat gets cooked, until Kyungsoo has to resume his responsibility as grill master. It's enough time. Baekhyun takes a deep breath and whispers, "So why did you leave without saying goodbye?" Kyungsoo chuckles. He shakes his head like he's in a state of complete disbelief. Baekhyun doesn't get it. "Simple. I wanted to make leaving easier for you. If I stayed on your bed a little longer then you might have missed your bus." "You're saying you'd have ravished me if you hadn't left–" "I'm saying we needed time. To think about things." Kyungsoo coughs a little, looking to the direction opposite that of the grill's. "I don't want you to just… jump into things just because I kissed you during the festival. We were drunk then. We could've been high. And we're the best of friends." He rubs the tip of his nose, and Baekhyun reaches out to grab him by the wrist. To pull him closer. "Best friends don't just wake up one day and realize that they want to kiss each other in the middle of the street." "You're right. It took us two decades to figure things out. Maybe it took me longer. I dunno." He holds Kyungsoo's hand up, then, until their palms slide against each other and find a comfortable fit. Kyungsoo's hand is so small, but his fingers are slender. If Kyungsoo balled his hands into fists then Baekhyun could envelop them with his own hands, keep Kyungsoo safe and warm in the cocoon of his fingers. "But we both know we were still sober then, that time in Hongdae." Baekhyun gulps down hard, swallows all the other words and sentences and questions threatening to spill from his lips. "When you kissed me and I kissed you back. No drunk person grabs his best friend by the ass then holds back when he hears him giggle." Kyungsoo's hand gives a tiny jerk. Beside them, the flames crackle. "It was a boner killer." "It was unexpected." "It was my best attempt at being spontaneous." "I liked it," Baekhyun admits. He tightens his hold on Kyungsoo's hand and repeats, louder this time so that the crackling flames won't distort his words. "I liked it, I like you, and I've never been more sure of anything in my life." There's a thick blanket of silence for a while, broken only by the low sizzling of the meat on the grill. There's still a good two, three minutes left until Kyungsoo has to turn the meat, make sure it hasn't been burnt yet. Four if the slab is too thin and if Baekhyun is lucky. Kyungsoo takes a sharp breath, shoulders rising in tandem with the heavy beating of his pulse against Baekhyun's palm. "Then kiss me," Kyungsoo whispers, requests. Challenges. He worries his bottom lip, eyes flickering down to Baekhyun's lips, then back up to meet his gaze. "If you're sure about how you feel for me even without alcohol, then kiss me." There's nothing but darkness and silence around them, nothing but the erratic glow of the flames illuminating Kyungsoo's features, keeping them warm and thawing them out. Chanyeol and Jongdae are far enough that Baekhyun can't hear their voices even if Chanyeol has the capacity to fill the beach with sound. Seungsoo and Baekbeom should be looking through the window, keeping watch on the kids, but they've probably retreated to playing video games now. And he and Kyungsoo have had a few shots of soju already. There's enough alcohol in his body to mess with his mind and cloud his judgment. There's enough alcohol in his body to make his lips and limbs loose; logic, even more. Baekhyun takes one step forward. Another, and the tips of their toes are touching. One last step and they're less than six inches from each other, nose to nose, chest to chest. Baekhyun reaches up and traces Kyungsoo's face with his fingers, scoring a line along the underside of Kyungsoo's jaw with his nail. "Are you sure–" Kyungsoo begins but Baekhyun presses a finger to Kyungsoo's lips, shivers all over when he feels the rough cuts on Kyungsoo's lips brush against his skin. "Shut up, Soo," Baekhyun whispers. He tilts his head and leans close, closer, until he can feel Kyungsoo's hot breath tickle his skin. "Shut up and let me kiss you." Kyungsoo shuts his eyes and leans into Baekhyun's open palm. Baekhyun lunges forward and crushes their lips together in a hitch of the breath. This isn't the first time they've kissed. Heck, this isn't the second or third or fourth. He's kissed Kyungsoo a handful of times already that he's supposed to have Kyungsoo's mouth memorized like the back of his mind. This feels different, though, like he's not just kissing Kyungsoo's lips. He's kissing Kyungsoo, prying Kyungsoo's lips open with the gentle coax of the tongue, making Kyungsoo open up as Baekhyun brings his free hand to cup Kyungsoo's cheek. He slides his hands south, massaging the underside of Kyungsoo's jaw, and he feels Kyungsoo relax under the pressure. Kyungsoo tilts his head back but holds onto Baekhyun's jacket, fists his hands into it like he's not so sure if he could fall down and fall back just yet. So Baekhyun nips on his lower lip a little and pulls away, giving them enough space to breathe. Kyungsoo chases after him with his lips, a different brand of hunger thick in the way he sucks hard on Baekhyun's top lip, bottom lip, the corners of his mouth. It's the sting of Baekhyun's bite on Kyungsoo's lower lip that makes Kyungsoo jerk back, that makes him throw a gentle jab to Baekhyun's chest. "Not there. Too sensitive," he whispers, but he has trouble committing to it, leaning in again to leave soft kisses on Baekhyun's chin, cheek, lips. "Just there?" Baekhyun asks, lips tugging up a little. Kyungsoo's eyes twinkle, crinkling at the corners. His grin is infectious. "Everywhere," Kyungsoo replies, voice choked and breathy. So Baekhyun closes the distance between them again, hoping to lend some of his voice to Kyungsoo in a song. The slide of their mouths is sloppy, inelegant. It sounds a lot like rock and roll. The scent of spring is thick in the air. The snow has finally melted and the roads are much clearer now. Safe for people to walk on. Functional. Baekhyun has traded his boots in favor of laced up sneakers, and he's finally down to just two layers of clothing. The up side: he doesn't have to carry around all these thick jackets anymore. The down side: if the winter breeze ever decides to blow his way during the first few weeks of spring, then he'll have to deal with it with shaking knees. 'got off your station safely?' comes Jongdae's text. Baekhyun frowns at his phone for a moment before replying, 'not every1 has a bad sens of drection lyk u uknow c; c; c;' He'd ask Kyungsoo for directions on a normal day, but he's out on a mission. And said mission involves getting around Seoul as stealthily as possible. He fishes for a map of the campus from his back pocket, anyway, and unfolds it. When he moved to Seoul three days ago, he expected thick crowds and busy neighborhoods. Noise at eight in the morning. Bumping into at least one person every five seconds. There's none of those at the moment, though, as he makes his way up the long and imposing path leading to the campus. It's an upward hill, and even with all his years of experience climbing Seoraksan and running around in the beach, this is different. It feels different because there are no three other bodies to help him up or share his agony. There's no Chanyeol to whine about the long path, nor is there Jongdae to make a song out of their crazy experience. Or modify the lyrics of an existing song, at least, to fit their current situation. And there's no Kyungsoo to shake his head at their bad harmonization that he'll attempt to correct later on. Baekhyun shrugs. Let it go, he tells himself, then takes a deep breath. He's in university now. The four of them will inevitably take different paths in life. They can always meet up for coffee or something, though, just like Yixing and Joonmyun do from time to time. Then maybe they can get ass drunk in Hongdae after midterms, hold a mini concert of sorts there. Make a name for themselves in the big city. Get scouted and land a nice recording deal. A happy ending. "I.D., sir?" says the guard. Baekhyun fishes for the card from his wallet and flashes it at the security. He tries to copy the same smile he'd worn during the pictorial just in case. K-ARTS's campus looks more like a fulfillment of a dream than a real school. From the entrance, Baekhyun can already make out the tall buildings, the great architecture, the cute little signages in bright font telling him where he is and where he can go. The school of film is to his left, and the library lies just beyond that building. There's the theatre to his right. The student housing is up ahead, and he doesn't even have to crane his neck to spot the huge white building that's at least three times the size of the theatre. He can feel his insides turning, lurching, and he has to gulp several times to loosen the knot in his throat. "I feel like Ken living in a Barbie house," he mumbles under his breath as he takes a few steps forward. Wrong move, a voice at the back of his mind says. Now the dorms look more imposing than ever. He pulls his luggage behind him, nonetheless, and makes his way to the head office to check in. That's item number one crossed off from his two-item list. The dorm head is kind enough to show him around after he signs a few papers. "Post office is at the first floor, if you ever decide to have parcels sent to your dorm. We accept orders from Amazon and Ebay," the girl says with a wink. He gesture to her right, then, tilting her head as she says, "This is where you'll find the dorm management in case anything bad comes up. If you need to get your sink repaired anything, this is the office you'll want to go to." Baekhyun chuckles. "I think my roommate's got that covered," he says. "Oh yeah? Who are you–" The girl wrinkles her nose. "You're the one sharing 112 with another freshman, right?" Baekhyun nods. Bites the inside of his cheek, too, because it's weird to be giggling at the mention of a room number. She shows him the computer room, then, and even the student lounge where anyone can do anything but drink alcohol and smoke. They ascend the first flight of stairs and find themselves near the kitchen. The study room is just adjacent it, and then it's all dorm rooms from here on. "If you ever run out of study cubicles in your floor – and yes, that happens – you can always visit the ones upstairs. We also have those on the third and fourth floors," she adds, then talks about the gym, laundry, and practice rooms at the basement. "And here's your key," she finally says once they reach 112. She fishes for it from her pocket and drops it on Baekhyun's palm with a faint 'clink'. "Don't lose it, or else you'll have to pay 2,000 won for a replacement." "I won't," he promises, dangling the key in front of him. He pulls his luggage closer to himself once the dorm head leaves, then fixes himself in front of the door. He slips the key in the hole, then withdraws it soon after. He cracks his neck, then, and knocks on the door, three loud raps until the knob turns. The door slowly pulls open, light brown hair bouncing as the man on the other side steps closer to the opening. "Hey," comes a familiar voice. Baekhyun can almost hear the sound of the waves in his ears, the sound of them crashing to shore. The hushed conversation of two people in the beach at three in the morning. And then there it is – the playful tug at the corners of Kyungsoo's lips, up, down, then up again as he asks, "What the hell are you doing here?" Baekhyun can answer that in a number of ways: he's in K-ARTS to study, that's the most obvious reason. K-ARTS offers the best broadcasting course in the whole South Korea, or at least that's what research says. He's finally decided to take broadcasting as a focus, because then he'd be able to perform and engage a bit in fine arts if he so desires. And yes, he's determined to pick up his paint brush again alongside his microphone. He'd like to feel it again, the slide of the brush between his fingers as he draws figures with paint and water. He'll be painting something happier this time. And he'll make sure he'll do it on a canvas and not on an urn. Going to Seoul to pay his last respects to his father months ago has made him realize that there's nothing wrong with the place. It's not Seoul that changes people; it's the people who change the city. And maybe by being here he can bring a bit of Sokcho-si to Seoul's busy streets. A semblance of the sea in a place filled with concrete roads. Besides, home isn't a place. It's a state of being, a state of mind. So maybe he's come back to Seoul to retrieve a piece of himself that he left behind that fateful night in Hongdae. With all the months stretched thinly between then and now, heaven knows that big chunk of himself has been whittled down into smithereens. That's okay, he thinks. He can spend years gathering himself again. He can spend years putting himself together here, in Seoul. With Kyungsoo. "Well, I heard the guy in 112 was looking for a flatmate but then he's too damn picky," Baekhyun begins. He inches closer at the same time that Kyungsoo leans against the door frame. One side of his loose sweater slides down his shoulders, revealing pale skin. Number 2.1 on the list – mark Kyungsoo and make sure the bright red mark stays there. "I mean, seriously, did you really have to specify that your flatmate should have a preference for seafood so that you won't have trouble with knowing where to buy take-out?" Kyungsoo snorts. "They told me to be detailed," he says then saunters closer, reaching out until his palms have settled on Baekhyun's hips. "If they'd told me earlier that I'd get you as a flatmate then maybe I should've added more to the list of squicks." "Oh yeah?" Baekhyun looks around for an audience. At the far end of the corridor, someone passes by. Must be from maintenance. Other than him, the corridor is blessedly empty. Kyungsoo's hand is warm on his hips, though, neither stiff nor tense. Baekhyun can feel it in the way his muscles stay in the exact same position even if there's the sound of footsteps in the background. "Like what?" "Noisy people who drool a lot in their sleep. Obnoxious guys who steal food from others." Kyungsoo leans back, but keeps his hands on Baekhyun like they're meant to be there. "Guys who take too long to decide on the course they want to study for the next three, four years." "2 out of 3. I guess the last one's my redeeming factor." Baekhyun takes a deep breath, then smiles. "I've decided to take broadcasting. Really pursue my dreams this time." Three counts, until he can feel his pulse quicken at the base of his throat. "With you." Kyungsoo's eyes widen, and his lips fall open in a small 'o'. Baekhyun waits for a reaction, a word, anything but it doesn't come. Kyungsoo remains as still as water, his hands on Baekhyun's hips growing cold, and then Kyungsoo's hands are all over him – his arms, his shoulders, cupping his cheeks. Trembling against his collarbones, snaking up his nape, balled in his hair. And Kyungsoo is kissing him. Kyungsoo is kissing him out in the open, in school, with Baekhyun halfway inside their room and out the door. Kyungsoo is kissing him in broad daylight where he can see the way Kyungsoo's eyelashes flutter when Baekhyun parts his lips just so, where Baekhyun can see and feel the flush of Kyungsoo's cheeks against his, the slow-forming smile on Kyungsoo's lips that slowly melt into a kiss. "We have class at ten," Baekhyun whispers when they part. He leans in a little to taste Kyungsoo some more, to nibble on Kyungsoo's lips and suck on them. "I checked your schedule and–" "Shut up," Kyungsoo says, lips still pressed to Baekhyun's own. Baekhyun doesn't say anything, keeps his lips between Kyungsoo's, stays there long enough for him to feel the grin that stretches across Kyungsoo's mouth. It's infectious. It's a force too strong to fight, and he's weak. So he lets the wave of Kyungsoo's warmth wash over him and pull at the corners of his lips, carry him to shore and pin him down to the sand. He's dropping anchor right here, making port in the warm cocoon of Kyungsoo's embrace. They are the next big wave. They are unstoppable. They're home. They manage to get inside despite the messy tangle of their limbs. Kyungsoo's lips haven't left his yet for more than five seconds, and he hasn't stopped trying to snake his hands beneath Kyungsoo's shirt. "Who the hell wears an undershirt beneath a polo," Baekhyun complains as he moves his hands to the buckle of Kyungsoo's pants, instead. Kyungsoo's body gives a tiny jerk and his face falls forward into the crook of Baekhyun's beck. "I mean, seriously, all the trouble for this–" "This is a test," Kyungsoo murmurs. They inch closer to the unmade up bed – just a cushion, no bed sheets yet – and Baekhyun pushes Kyungsoo down onto it. The motion tousles Kyungsoo's perfect hair, leaves it in a mess as static makes it cling to the cushion. "A test of patience." Baekhyun groans. He balances himself on one hand, the other busy with freeing Kyungsoo's undershirt from the grip of his waistband. He can feel the strain in his own pants but tells himself to focus, focus, focus on this. "I'm impatient. They don't practice patience in porn." Kyungsoo chuckles. He just looks at Baekhyun, kind of stares at him with his lips slightly parted in a wicked grin. He rests a hand on Baekhyun's own, then, helping Baekhyun pull off his shirt. He arches his back in support and works on the buttons of his polo with his other hand. It looks like a terribly choreographed dance, or a poorly orchestrated song. It works somehow, the slide of their limbs making Baekhyun's breath hitch with every contact. His knees shake and he shivers. "Then you're not watching the good ones," Kyungsoo replies after a while. He licks his lips, then tilts his chin up. "You're missing out on a lot." "Show me how it's done, then," Baekhyun whispers. The last button comes off in a dull pop. Baekhyun rests his hands on Kyungsoo's shoulders, tracing the length of his arms with his palms as he slips Kyungsoo's polo off. He pulls his own shirt over his head, then, tosses it to the ground where his luggage remains untouched. It takes longer to divest themselves of their clothes than it does to find each other's lips again. Baekhyun goes back to claiming Kyungsoo's lips, whimpers trapped in the cavern of Kyungsoo's mouth as Kyungsoo palms him through his pants before pushing his bottoms all the way down. They bunch at his ankles, and Baekhyun almost trips and falls onto Kyungsoo in an effort to free himself of his clothes completely. "Sorry–" he means to say, but Kyungsoo gives him no opportunity to apologize, leaves open-mouthed kisses on the column of his neck all the way down to his collarbones. "Not fair," Baekhyun murmurs against Kyungsoo's mouth soon after. "You still have your pants on and I'm all naked now." Kyungsoo pulls away with a huff then rolls his eyes. There's still a ghost of a smile on his lips, though, in the way he finds Baekhyun's gaze again and holds it with half-lidded eyes. "No one's keeping score," he replies, but guides Baekhyun's hand to his unzipped pants, anyway. "But if you insist–" Baekhyun can feel the cool brush of his own fingers against his skin. His teeth are chattering. It's not even cold in the room, not with the way sweat drips from Kyungsoo's chin, down to the base of his throat. "I want you," he breathes out like a prayer. "I want you." Kyungsoo swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in accord. Baekhyun waits for it, the moment when Kyungsoo sucks in his bottom lip while he searches for the right words for this. And Kyungsoo does, half a heartbeat later, as he presses down on Baekhyun's hand. Baekhyun can feel Kyungsoo's thrumming pulse, can feel the warmth trapped in Kyungsoo's pants. So he pulls it down, leaves soft kisses on the back of Kyungsoo's knees, ankles. When Baekhyun surfaces, he gets a better view of Kyungsoo – skin burning a bright shade of red, softened only by the light filtering through the windows. Baekhyun traces a line from the groove of Kyungsoo's chest, then, all the way down until he reaches the base of Kyungsoo's cock. "May I?" he chokes out. Kyungsoo looks up at him, chest heaving as he lets out a low exhale. "Go," he whispers, and that's all that Baekhyun needs to lean in, sinking until his lips are pressed to the head of Kyungsoo's cock. He knows nothing about pleasuring someone else, much less giving head, but he's seen Kyungsoo get off beside him too many times already that he knows how Kyungsoo likes it – a gentle brush of the thumb along the underside of his cock, running a line along the vein. Light circles on the tip of his cock until it's beading with precum. That's when Kyungsoo starts to get himself off, already slick from when he'd teased himself. Then he'd alternate between easy jerks and long, hard pumps until he's breathing heavily and emptying himself into his fist. Baekhyun uses it as a guide, runs his tongue along his lips a few times before pressing them to the tip of Kyungsoo's cock to press light sucks along Kyungsoo's shaft. Kyungsoo bucks his hips at the first contact but Baekhyun holds him in place, fingers splayed on Kyungsoo's pelvis. Another light suck and Kyungsoo's breathing turns from heavy to ragged. A soft kiss on the tip, followed by Baekhyun wrapping his lips around Kyungsoo's cock, and Kyungsoo's gripping the sheets tight, hands balled into fists. "Faster," Kyungsoo moans, rolling his hips when Baekhyun lets his teeth graze Kyungsoo's sensitive skin. "Baekhyun, please, I–" He pulls away with a dull pop, admiring the flush painted on Kyungsoo's cheeks, and grins. Kyungsoo's answer is a hand tangled in his messy hair, pulling Baekhyun forward. "Baekhyun–" He wraps his fingers around Kyungsoo's dick and slowly sinks back in, taking in Kyungsoo's length in his mouth. He can feel Kyungsoo's pulse on his tongue as he bobs his head, as he twists his fist in tandem with his slow and easy pumps. He remembers that time, watching some cheap porno on Kyungsoo's desktop, the first time they attempted to jerk off to a girl fingering herself on screen. Kyungsoo was already getting pretty into it halfway through, hands buried in his pants, but Baekhyun hadn't touched himself until Kyungsoo looked his way. 'It's okay,' Kyungsoo had whispered that time. His breathing hitched, and Baekhyun's hands reached south to cup his own arousal through his pants. 'Don't– Rush it–' Kyungsoo had croaked then. His hand was fast between his legs and Kyungsoo's eyebrows were knit in concentration. 'Until you feel that the time is right–' Baekhyun pulls away and tilts his head to suck on Kyungsoo's balls. "Fuck– Baekhyun–" Kyungsoo groans, and a sizzle of heat rolls down Baekhyun's stomach, making his abdomen coil. Kyungsoo makes the prettiest sounds, the faintest of whimpers that increase in volume when Baekhyun slows down or twists his fist just so, so Baekhyun keeps at it. Teases and teases and teases Kyungsoo some more until he clams his thighs around Baekhyun's head and bucks his hips into Baekhyun's face. He can feel the tremble of Kyungsoo's muscles against his cheeks, can hear Kyungsoo's mantra of Baekhyun, fuck, Baekhyun, please– above the slick noises of his lips wrapped around Kyungsoo's dick. Then Baekhyun stops, mouth agape as he runs a thin line along the vein of Kyungsoo's cock with his nail. Then Kyungsoo's spilling at the back of his throat, the tight fists of his hands loosening in Baekhyun's hair. "Crazy," Baekhyun hears Kyungsoo whispers when Baekhyun slides next to him. Kyungsoo tilts his chin up and leaves a sloppy, lazy kiss on the underside of Baekhyun's jaw as he says, "Let me– Let me return the favor." Baekhyun doesn't even get to ask 'how' when Kyungsoo reaches south, cool fingers tracing lines on the length of Baekhyun's cock before wrapping around it. He's gentle, though, in the same way that he'd reached for Baekhyun's hand the time they first jerked off together, the same way that he'd guided Baekhyun's hand to palm himself through his shorts. He presses a thumb along the slit and rubs circles there, slow and deliberate, like he's waiting for a signal, a sign to press on. Baekhyun's breath hitches when Kyungsoo stars rubbing his thumb along the underside of his shaft, and Kyungsoo lets out a faint gasp like that's what does it for him – Baekhyun telling him through the tremble of his lips that, 'You're doing it right, now do it faster. I can take it, Soo, I can take anything for you–' Kyungsoo gets on his knees and prepares to sink lower, but Baekhyun shakes his head. "I want to– I want to feel you," he says, hiccuping. He gulps hard. "If that's– If that's okay with you." Kyungsoo laughs a little. He leans forward to press a light kiss to the tip of Baekhyun's cock and grins when Baekhyun jerks his hips forward. "Do you know how to do this?" Kyungsoo asks after a while as he shifts in his position. Baekhyun shakes his head then looks away, but he's not quick enough to elude Kyungsoo's warm kiss. "Okay. Let me show you how it's done." Kyungsoo sucks in two fingers into his mouth, lips moving around a little before he pulls them out. His fingers are slick with saliva, shining in the light of the day. Then he's spreading the cheeks of his ass apart with his free hand, forehead pressed to the cushion. "Watch, so you can–" He pushes his index finger inside and winces at the intrusion. "So you can do this to me later–" Kyungsoo's hair is all over his face, sticking to his forehead and cheeks and skin, but Baekhyun keeps his eyes glued on the way Kyungsoo's face contorts in pain as he pushes his finger all the way in. Then they hit a standstill, Kyungsoo's lips falling open as he twists his fingers inside him. "Shit, Kyungsoo–" Baekhyun moves closer and rests a palm on the small of Baekhyun's back. He smiles a little, then starts moving his finger in and out of his hole in a slow, steady motion. "Are you okay? Are you–" "Keep your eyes on me," Kyungsoo whispers. He takes a deep breath, shoulders rising, and then he's pushing a second finger inside, working in the same rhythm he'd used earlier. Three fingers in and Baekhyun struggles to keep up, his cock growing heavier between his legs by the minute. The allure of Kyungsoo pumping his fingers inside himself, stretching himself out for Baekhyun, is hard to tear his eyes from, but Kyungsoo's face is flush with heat his lips are so red and inviting. And he's whispering, whimpering Baekhyun's name with every hard thrust, every movement of his fingers. "Baek–" Kyungsoo says, stopping short as he pulls his fingers out, and looks over his shoulder. There's a small, almost indiscernible smile on his lips as he meets Baekhyun in the eye. "Come here." 'Come here' means come and get inside me, but Baekhyun takes a detour and goes straight for Kyungsoo's lips instead. Kyungsoo's skin is so soft, so warm beneath the heat of Baekhyun's mouth, that it takes more than an ounce of self-control to pull away. Every inch of Kyungsoo is inviting – the way the corners of his mouth curl when Baekhyun plants a soft kiss to the small of his back, the way Kyungsoo lets out a low groan as Baekhyun runs his tongue along Kyungsoo's rim before sheathing himself inside. Slowly, he pistons the tip of his dick on Kyungsoo's hole, then he's pushing inside, inch by inch until he sees Kyungsoo's fists loosen in the sheets. Kyungsoo feels hot, like thousands of furnaces that can't be doused with water. The stretch burns – in his cock, his thighs, the back of his knees, in his chest that feels so full – but it's bearable. Kyungsoo makes it bearable for him. "Have you done this before?" Baekhyun asks. Kyungsoo laughs a little. "Seen it in movies but–" He chokes when Baekhyun shifts in his position. "Never," he continues. "You're– You're the first." "And the last," Baekhyun finishes. Kyungsoo nods. "The last," he repeats, voice so soft he might have been breathing, and pushes back until his ass hits Baekhyun's pelvis. Baekhyun pulls out a little, then pushes back in. Kyungsoo gives him a slow nod and he takes it as a sign to go on, rolling his hips in a slow, languid motion. They find their rhythm after a while, their fingers intertwined as they press down hard on the cushion. Kyungsoo jerks his hips back at the same time that Baekhyun moves forward, thrusts slow and deep into Kyungsoo until Kyungsoo's letting out faint gasps. He can feel Kyungsoo's thundering pulse on his skin, can feel Kyungsoo's legs shaking against his own as they move together, getting lost in their own dance. Kyungsoo's grip on his hands tighten and Kyungsoo clenches around him, tight and warm. It's becoming impossible to move in the tight fit of their bodies, so Baekhyun works harder, buries himself deep inside Kyungsoo until he can hear nothing but the thumping in their chests, Kyungsoo's low and drawn out Baek–hyun– in tandem with Baekhyun whispering Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, Kyung–soo– like a mantra, a prayer for which no other words exist. Baekhyun's thighs tremble, and then he's spilling inside Kyungsoo, legs going weak as rides out his orgasm. Kyungsoo soon follows, quiet only in his words but not in the way he throws his head back and hangs his mouth open. Then it's a collision of limbs, warm and sticky, on the bed, mouths crashing into each other like it's the only thing they can hold onto to keep each other from falling even harder. "We'll… have to get the cushion dry cleaned," Kyungsoo murmurs into the crook of Baekhyun's neck later, once they've come down from it. He wraps his arms around Baekhyun and moves even closer. "And we have class at ten." Baekhyun glances up, looking for any sign of time. The wall clock reads half past nine in the morning. Laundry room doesn't open until ten. There's really nothing to be done. They've made a mess of their new dorm room and of each other. So he snorts and buries his nose in the crown of Kyungsoo's hair, taking in the scent of sweat and strawberries and Kyungsoo. "We can shower together," he offers. "To save time." He doesn't need to lean back to catch the smile on Kyungsoo's lips. He can feel it on his shoulder, against his skin, crawling all the way up to his neck until he's shivering all over. "Sounds like a plan." "Mic test? Okay. One, two, three–" Baekhyun taps the microphone a few times, and winces when the feedback blasts in his ears. "Good evening, Rufxxx!" The spotlight shines down upon Baekhyun and he squints as hard as he can to keep himself from getting blinded. He keeps the bright smile intact, though, remembering what the lighting director told them after their test run this morning. "I put the red heads on full brightness so I can see if you can outshine them. Cheesy shit, but that's what I tell everyone. And it works because they strive hard to give their best performance ever." Perfecting a good smile has always been the toughest part of being a performer, after all, but it's one of the most important things in the package. Baekhyun's never been more grateful that he's been blessed with a charming smile. He clears his throat, then moves closer to the microphone. "So we're sort of a rookie band here in Seoul, but we're pretty big stars in our town back in Gangwon-do," he narrates. He hears light laughter from the back of the room, then catches the smiles of the people in front. One of the girls is squinting at them. She must have seen them from somewhere. Facebook, most likely. "Do I have any representatives from Gangwon-do here? Gangwon guys in the house? I see hands at the back!" He points to the group of three people waving their arms at the far end of the room, then a couple more towards the middle. "Hello, brothers and sisters! Glad to see you here and not frolicking on the beach!" He indulges the crowd in a bit of chit chat on life in Sokcho-si as the band tunes their instruments in the background. Jongdae and Chanyeol pluck the strings of their guitars until they arrive as a tune they've pleased enough with. Kyungsoo begins playing a familiar beat from one of their newer songs, and by 'new' Baekhyun means something they've polished just two days ago. Tangled in the sheets, fresh from a shower and needing another one because Baekhyun's shit at self-control. "Wet," he answers when someone asks for a word to best describe his hometown with. "Also, very fishy." To the person who asks about Sokcho-si's specialties, "Anything that's dry and tastes like fish. I'm serious." To the person who asks why they're here and not in their hometown, "Because we're on a nationwide tour. Our next stop is somewhere in Gyeonggi-do. Please look forward to it!" Then someone asks him about their gigs back in little Sokcho-si, what it's like to be in front of an entirely new crowd, 'are you nervous or anything?' He looks over his shoulder, at three familiar faces, people he's come to sail through life with. He turns back to the lady and says, "We could be, but for the sake of our image I'll say 'no'." The crowd erupts into a peal of laughter. Five counts, then the sound dies down to silence, the white noise, the crackling of the lights. Baekhyun takes a deep breath and lets his hands fall to his side. Jongdae starts strumming, then, when Baekhyun inches closer to the microphone. "I'd like to take you all to Sokcho-si through a song," he begins. He gives the crowd a quick scan, then Chanyeol's bass comes in. Eight counts, and then Baekhyun hears the sound of Kyungsoo's drums accompanying the guitar. He's taken back to a performance back in Sokcho-si, their first in a while after Sooneung. He'd been scared as hell then, not knowing how it feels to stand on stage anymore. Then the three started playing and his voice came out just like that, like he was just waiting to see if these three people who he's been wading through the waters and tens and thousands of books with were still willing to perform on stage with him. Jongdae and Chanyeol's guitars were saying, 'are you crazy?' Kyungsoo's drums were saying, 'he probably is, but for the sake of this friendship let's just pretend he isn't.' So Baekhyun closes his eyes, lets the sound fill his ears, crawl down his throat, fill his chest until there's nothing in him but a song. He parts his lips, the corners tugging up as he hears bits and pieces of applause to his right, then his left. The heavy beats of Kyungsoo's drums set the rhythm in his chest at ease, enough to allow the words trapped inside to escape. He remembers to look over his shoulder. Chanyeol smiles, infectious. Jongdae chuckles, the warmth of his laughter wrapping around Baekhyun like a cocoon. He catches sight of Kyungsoo's drum sticks – wrapped in black electrical tape – and he feels the knots on his chest loosen. Then he drawshis gaze up, until he sees Kyungsoo's gaze – bright, gleaming. Blinding. "We are The Bro Code," Baekhyun says into the microphone. He blinks his eyes, refocusing, and looks at the road ahead – the crowd, the strong lights. He grins. "We are The Bro Code and this is our song!" 1. The entire fic is set sometime between 2011 and 2012. If anyone's wondering about the lack of mobile messengers, there's your answer. :) 2. Sooneung is the Korean college scholastic ability test. Koreans spend most of their academic years preparing for this eight-hour exam that will determine their future and the universities they can apply for. 3. Food in Sokcho-si: Hwaleo hoe is pretty much your fresh sashimi. It's one of the most famous dishes in Sokcho-si. Meanwhile, gamja ongsimi is your classic seaweed soup with a twist – potatoes. The people of Sokcho-si love their potatoes. Also, please be guided that the kelp the fishermen usually find along the shore is different from miyeok, which is what is used for most broth dishes. Lastly, despite being a big fishing spot, the Daepo market specializes in fried chicken. 4. Miyeok-guk is what Koreans call the 'birthday soup'! It's made from miyeok, a type of seaweed, and some pork cutlets. 5. Durumi, more commonly known as the red-crowned crane, is a migrating bird that travels to China and/or Korea at the start of winter. They leave come early spring. 6. For those wondering about The Bro Code's here's a list: The Remedy and Long Drive (for the post-Sooneung concert), and Crash Into Me for the last number in Rufxxx. 7. Lu Han's gimmick for the music festival takes inspiration from this Ed Sheeran performance. 8. Here is a PLAYLIST if anyone's interested! If you'd like to leave a comment but don't have a Dreamwidth account, fret not: anonymous commenting is on. If you want to comment on the LJ mirror, you may do so HERE. Thanks! ♥ |
no subject
no subject
again, thank you for reading! :D