Every now and then the stars align Boy and girl meet by the great design Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?
soojung likes being in relationship.
she likes to be 'claimed' and to claim -- to have a person to depend on, a hand to hold, lips to claim, butterflies to attach to a single name.
she likes dating.
and at seventeen--she likes kim jongin.
a lot.
hence the inadvertent (a lot of times deliberate, however) rebelling on her behalf--explicitly ignoring her dad's words onĀ not leaving the house after curfew--as she finds herself waiting at the window of her room, arms folded on top of each other and her chin resting right on top--cheeks slightly puffed and lips fluttering as she exhales.
it was a pretty night, at least, soojung didn't mind waiting that much.
but however many passing minutes (she's counting, mind you) is however many kisses she will demand from that (one month, tonight!) boyfriend of hers.
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Nerves rattling him in his sleep, tossing and turning he has been upon his bed up till the early morning rise of the sun. Its shining rays creeping through the clear glass window of his dorm and warming his body slightly in the cool crisp dawn, his heart has been beating with a sonorous thump inside his chest for the many hours he has tried to let darkness overtake him.
A sadistic jailer, his blindness already is, locking him out night after night of unattainable rest. His taxing heart thumps for another reason, not one related to his handicapped.
And still, it is beating.
Unable to persuade his rattled heart, his mind as well pacing back and forth in tandem to its rhythm as if dancing to its drumming song, he takes to stand, slipping himself off the cushioned mattress before stretching the tiredness that has yet been expunged. More exhausted he will become in the passing educational hours, bruised and battered he imagines himself to be at the end. With a yawn escaping him, Xiumin walks forward to his dresser to change to more suitable attire.
Weary is he of the scheduled events of the day.
A training mission between himself and another, a student by the name of Kim Jongin, his mind dashes at the presumptions that plague him, none of which leading to a suitably relaxing result. He sighs as another stabbing thought ridicules him of the insanity he has taken to join of the list he has signed dictating his consent to the school sanctioned brawl. Muffling it quickly beneath the thoughts of other less pressing matters, of school assignments and Seeing Eye dogs, he eases himself into the day, leaving the thoughts of his upcoming fight by the door to his room until his return for his weapon of choice.
Class after class ending in slow succession, his body then leads him to the direction of the basement room floor only known by one name: The Danger Room.
Never before has he stepped inside its metallic dome structure. Its lustre lost to him with his lack of his sight, its smooth metal effects him instead with its cold detached sensation, a faint scent of blood and fire wafting within. Lightly, Xiumin shivers in response of the trepidation multiplying ten fold within his ears as he marches towards his designated spot, clutching onto his rapier as if only it could save his young life.
In front of the schooling staff up above their heads in godly omnipotence inside the control booth, overseeing their every move and life functions given by the beeping he could faintly hear, standing to the side is he awaiting their instructions.
The intercom comes to life, interference blaring in loud sharpness making him cringe in its leaving wake, before the female voice of one of their overseers comes to speak.
āWelcome to the Danger Room, gentleman.ā She begins, her voice echoing inside the silent chamber. āDuring this exercise, you will be allowed to use your mutations and weapons freely in which way you like to defeat your opponent. To count as a win, your opponent must be in one of three states. The first, and easiest option, is to incapacitate them. But please do so without doing complete irreparable harm. Dr. Nam already has his fair share of students to take care of for today. The second, and less easy option, is to pin your opponent to the floor, effectively removing their mobility for a period of three seconds. And finally, the less easy option is to force your opponent to forfeit the match. However keep in mind that lackadaisical forfeiting will not be allowed, understood?ā
A pause in her speech, steel ending her previous question, the back of his hair prickles as the gaze of examination leaves him before she continues.
āLastly, obstacles may come to pop up in surprise to hinder you in the duration of this exercise. But, as both of you are still within the lower tiers, the Danger Room level has been lessened to match your current capabilities so donāt expect any of the lasers or robots you hear of from the higher leveled students. This will be a best out of three rounds. You have a minute to prepare yourself whilst I make some final adjustments. Until then, try not to faint before the start of the exercise.ā
With sound finality, her instructions end as the intercom cuts off, leaving them both back in the silence of the chamber. Xiumin flicks his wrist, swishing his blade side to side in apprehensive anticipation of the bout coming in seconds. One sentence leaves him before anything else can continue, his voice filling the void of the soundless air.
āGood luck.ā
The statement meager in eloquence, little is he capable to ponder much about as the clock ticks up above in the observation deck, his heart threatening to erupt out of his chest with its counting before landing and flopping upon the cool floor. He breathes in deeply, trying to assuage himself, as he takes to his relaxed assumed stance, legs width apart and his blade at the ready.
It is all he could do to fight against his own trepidation. Ā
ever since she met jongin, all she's felt has been a mixture of serenity, cheeriness and, on top of it all, sleepinessĀ āĀ
but that was probably because he was sleep. she'd find herself with texts from him explaining that he fell asleep somewhere once again or she'd even come across him on her way to class, hidden in plain sight, completely passed out. she'd done the typical 'drag jongin to his room so he doesn't get stepped on or worse' routine a million times and it had become normal behavior for her by the tenth time.
it wasn't like she minded, however. besides the fact that she got to oogle over his cutie face whenever he slept, he'd stuck with her ever since her years of sandbox drama and was one of the few people who actually was able to put up with herĀ ā and she did the same for him, considering he had experienced a slightly (okay, kidding, a lot) more of a dramatic life than she had.Ā
it was three am when she gets the text from jongin and it's two minutes later when she finds herself walking into the campus gardens, pulling her portable blanket firmly around her as she prays that no one comes out and sees her kiddish pajamas.
kim jongin, the things i do for you.
she finds him strewn on the path, dangerously close to one of the rose thorn bushes and she feels the panic in her chest spike up as she imagines one more lazy roll over and he's face planted into the bush (oh no, there goes his smooth skin and perfect complexionā). she huffs, her food nudging his side before she bends down, hands lightly shaking his shoulders.
"yah, jongin, please wake up."
(!* there are a lot of things about park chanyeol that people don't know, don't realize -- the only people who really understand are xavier, magneto, his parents. Ā these are things that he doesn't think about though, and he runs around campus free and wild like he used to do as a child, yura behind him screeching as she tries to play catch up. Ā but she'll never catch up, and maybe that's the problem. Ā
sometimes he wishes she was the one born with unnatural speed because maybe then, she wouldn't be tied to a hospital bed that he visits every sunday.
he came to xavier's to learn how to be better, to not be alone anymore. and he never expected that the world of mutants was as vast as it really is. Ā he never expected that he'd run into a boy with a fire like his sister, and the thought makes his blood run cold and chanyeol is so adverse to the idea that he ignores the poor guy as a result of his own temporary weakness. Ā but today, he thinks, that's going to change.
chanyeol sees char ahead of him, and he thinks that this has to change. Ā he runs to catch up with him [easy enough, that is], claps a hand on the young pyro's shoulder like they're friends -- and they're not, but chanyeol needs to get over himself. Ā the past won't repeat itself here; he needs to remember that. Ā char is not park yura. Ā that's something he needs to remember, too. Ā he moves in front of char with a crinkle to his eyes and a smile on his face, walking backwards in long strides so as not to slow the other up.Ā ) hey, what's up?? (!* and he's trying hard with this, he really is with the way his smile is too big and he can feel the way it feels forced upon his face. Ā hopefully char doesn't notice [not really, anyway] or -- ) .... (!* an awkward pause, and chanyeol sighs. Ā yeah. Ā he's totally going to be able to tell. )Ā
some say the world will end in fire
some say in ice
from what i've tasted of desire
i hold with those that favour fire
the city is loud at night and it's nothing like the quiet whispers through an overabundance of trees that he once grew used to when he slept in the halls of xavier's school for the gifted ( and sometimes he misses it ). Ā it's nothing like the gentle breathing of roommates and solitude in the almost silence with nothing but the moonlight pooling on his bed to cast shadows in the room. Ā the city is so much different from what he knew. Ā at night now, he hears sirens wailing and screams, loud laughter in the streets as people pass by in too drunk steps to see straight. Ā but somehow, he finds this comforting even still -- it's a different sense of solitude that he feels now, because outside his window is all the chaos of the world and joonmyun is locked inside a tall tower painted neutral tones and bare bones. Ā the sounds of the city at Ā night become radio noise that he can't tune out, so instead it becomes a backdrop to his thoughts during what he wishes he could call repose. Ā instead, it's a soundtrack for all the things that keep him up at night.
things like that night in busan when he let a little boy die no matter how hard he tried ( and he tried so hard, he did; but joonmyun only knows how to ruin things he touches and this is no different -- . Ā and he knows he should stop thinking this way because this is survivor's guilt at its finest but ) the paper lantern he set off into the sky while clutching wounds doesn't make him feel any better because joonmyun remembers. Ā he's reminded every time he lifts his shirt, sees the battle wounds that have long since healed but left their scars seared deep into his flesh. Ā it's an ugly reminder that he is not enough, and that he never was. Ā the scars are ugly to remind joonmyun that he is ugly. Ā so he covers them up with long sleeves and too many layers for the springtime air that's settling over the city, making the trees blossom in their readiness to birth leaves of green. Ā like everything else, joonmyun covers it all up with a smile and squared shoulders; he pretends there's nothing wrong when he tries to help his ten a.m. schizophrenic or the drug addict that comes in at noon. Ā and while he believes that they can get better, joonmyun wonders what help he'll really be in the long run. Ā he is the most pessimistic of optimists with all the memories of choices he's made played back like a series of polaroids in his mind. Ā Ā
keys hit the kitchen table with a clatter when he walks in and joonmyun looks at an empty house with bare walls. Ā he covers his face with his hands because this is quite possibly the loneliest he's ever been, surrounded by nothing and no one but this -- this is what he deserves, after all. Ā he deserves nothing, so he gets nothing. Ā the background noise of the city is no different tonight; not when he was walking home and it's certainly no different now as it drifts up from the streets into his tall window. light from the moon and the glow of the nightlife leave snatches of shadow on the floor. Ā and it isn't the first time that he's wondered and he's thought about the future. Ā he's still not sure what he's doing here.
it's somewhere in between the self pity and the screeching of tires that foretell a crash when he hears it. Ā a soft clatter on the rooftop just before a collision and this is probably funny timing; something wild that brings destruction in its wake. Ā this sound is something that doesn't belong to the noise of the city that he's learned night after night in its pseudo darkness. Ā he decides that it's something .. well, strange; because it sounds like feet walking high above him, pacing as if unsure. Ā and somehow he worries first about the policy against mutants and who would be dumb enough to fly at a time like this. Ā then, six years of training kick him into high gear, make him stiffen with adrenaline pumping through his veins and narrow eyes as he looks up at the ceiling. Ā there would be no reason for someone to land on his roof in the dead of night. Ā kim joonmyun has no one; abandoned them to live a solitary life because that is what he deserves. Ā and although kim joonmyun may want to die ( a secret that's saved for three a.m. with tears on his cheeks ), he doesn't deserve the endless space of dark that comes with it. Ā he suffers, and he survives. Ā this is something, sometimes he thinks it's the only thing, that he knows how to do.
with a quick beating heart and a heavy look in his eye, joonmyun pushes open the window with a force that he doesn't mean simply because he's brought back to the tragedy almost two months before and he's not ready for another one of those nights. Ā he leans out, looks down at the stories below and he doesn't really notice just how far he's pushed himself. Ā all he thinks about is how easy it would be to fall; it's something that occurs to him in the moment of adrenaline -- but a voice from above stops him mid -thought, makes him freeze and slowly tilt his head up because this is an all too familiar voice. Ā it's one that plays over and over in his head over phone lines and saved voicemails telling him to come by.
" don't fall, extractor. Ā i might not catch you."Ā
the words are a lie because char would never let him fall. Ā he looks up at the roof, swallows and tries to imagine all the ways his mind could be playing tricks on him. Ā he hasn't slept in weeks; this could be wishful thinking and hallucination playing with him but joonmyun chooses to believe. Ā his voice comes out hoarse, and he knows he's too emotional when he whispers char's name and says, " what in the world are you doing here?" a beat passes, and " you know i'm not extractor anymore, char." in his mind, he says i'm no one. Ā char makes a face but doesn't respond to that remark and joonmyun thinks it was probably the wrong thing to say. Ā everything is probably the wrong thing to say and this situation is too wrong, and it's all his fault for abandoning char in the first place. Ā this is not the reunion he expected -- to be frank, joonmyun never expected a reunion -- meeting on rooftops and window sills with beating hearts and the nervous clutching of his hands. Ā but the world is spinning and char is smiling with white teeth and mischief in his eyes. Ā it makes joonmyun want to smile, too.
so he does.
char speaks and joonmyun listens, attentive and careful as always because that is who he is. Ā " you didn't come by like i told you, so i came to find you." and with these words, joonmyun's mind is brought back to the voicemail left on his phone, one that he replays over and over again in the middle of the night when he tries to sleep only to toss and turn instead. Ā he doesn't know why char went to the effort, but this is something like forgiveness for betrayal and joonmyun can't help but take a shaky breath. Ā and char is so matter of fact that he doesn't question it, even if he wants to. Ā char has always done what he wanted to, anyway.
" i'm so sorry." the words slip out before he can process what he's saying, but it's the truth and joonmyun only lies to hide things. Ā this is something that he doesn't need to hide. Ā and he knows that char is hurt by the look in his eyes even though his lips are smiling that too -wide smile -- this is tough for him, too. Ā but the fact that he doesn't leave, that he came in the first place is kickstarts something in joonmyun's heart that he can't exactly put a finger on. Ā char says nothing in reply, but joonmyun thinks that it's okay. Ā maybe, just maybe, they'll be okay. Ā
he gives pause and they sit in comfortable silence for a moment before joonmyun looks at char with nervous eyes and an even more nervous smile with an invitation in. Ā he wonders if char can see the differences in his smiles now, because he purses his lips but this could just be contemplation --. Ā but joonmyun knows that the younger man isĀ wanted, and he knows what hunts them. Ā joonmyun knows many truths. Ā sometimes he wishes that he didn't so he could go back to being that naive little boy he was before his mutation woke at fifteen. Ā char, at least, accepts with a snort and a roll of his eyes -- a mutter of, " it's about time" reaches joonmyun's ears and the nervous smile turns into one of amusement.
" if you wanted to come in, all you had to do was ask." char just gives him a look and joonmyun doesn't say anything else, the amusement clear upon his lips and by the twinkle in his eye. Ā he just makes way as the younger man climbs in through his window, and then he says, " next time, feel free to use the door." char scoffs, and joonmyun shuts the window behind him locks it tight and he wonders how long that this will last.
" i wanted to drop by in style."Ā char is like a whirlwind; a flurry of dancing flames and he infects joonmyun with his unpredictability -- before he knows it, he's caught up in the wonder and laughing. Ā he can't be sure when the last time he heard the sound of his own laugh and the action catches him by surprise, makes him stop and blink and look down in apology. Ā he doesn't miss the way char's eyes bore holes into his skin, like he's looking through; like he sees all the things that he's thought for months. Ā but he says nothing and joonmyun is grateful, though he can almost hear the taunting words in the back of his skull. Ā you're too noisy. Ā it's a small act of kindness, and char is joonmyun's saving grace. Ā
joonmyun doesn't know how they end up in his bed.
this is something natural for them though; at least, that's what he tells himself -- because their nights together before when they were assigned as roommates always ended up the same way. Ā joonmyun realizes you never really know how much you can miss something until it's gone. Ā char falls asleep as quickly as he always does after murmuring something about the comfort of his mattress and something else that he can't hear. Ā joonmyun wouldn't know. Ā he's hardly touched it since he moved in, but they're together now and maybe, he thinks, it's not as cold or as big as he once thought. Ā he brushes hair away from char's closed eyes like that first night a long, long time ago in winter when fire wrapped him up in a tight embrace and left him reeling. Ā but, he thinks, that's what a brushfire is; it's unexpected but it's necessary, cleans out the old and paves the way for something new to grow and flourish in its wake. Ā and it's then that he realizes that he needs someone like wildfire. Ā
joonmyun's fingertips linger on char's skin for far longer than he means to and he's most certain that if the younger man knew, he'd be chastised. Ā but this is something that he can't help; char falls into his life in the times that he needs him most and joonmyun has only just realized the blessing in disguise. Ā he's almost in wonder as he stares, as his fingers absently travel soft and burning skin. Ā because char is like the forest fire that he needs, wild and untameable and free; he cleanses, purifies and doesn't even realize the effect his actions cause. Ā he smiles because when his fingers brush the sleeping man's cheek, arms tighten their hold around his waist and this is not so different from before but it's still completely new. Ā this time speaks of forgiveness, and joonmyun's heart almost breaks as his eyes fill up with grateful tears he tries not to shed. Ā he needs char a lot more than he'll ever voice in words. Ā a phone call at three in the morning as he was pressed up against his dresser proved that. Ā with a passing thought, he wonders if that was what spurred all of this on.
" thank you." is what he whispers in char's ear and the pyro shifts in response, as if he could hear in the deepest stage of sleep. Ā a watery smile crosses his face and he's overcome. Ā it's sometime around one in the morning that his lips brush against a warm cheek with the intention of 'sleep well' in his mind but something tearing at his heart, desperate to be known. Ā this is a feeling that he'll dwell upon another day; he's so tired and char is so warm with arms heavy on his waist and legs intertwined with his own. Ā so joonmyun settles back onto his pillow, closes his eyes and dreams of feathered wings taking flight.
for the first night in two months time, joonmyun sleeps sound next to the beating heart of a forest fire.
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chanyeol: ( / the chat with soojung was short. not too long before she went on with other things. other plans with other people and he found himself standing alone again. he had lost track of time by this point and the cold felt like it wanted to get worse. yura's touches reminds him he could just leave now. go home but he shook his head ) five more minutes ( / insisted quietly and focused on keeping his hand warm in his pocket as well as his hope. which proves to be worthwhile as he sees a familiar figure from afar ) see....told you he'd come, yura.
char: (/ he did what he could. 'fashionably late' wasn't even in the question now. char's just a selfish jerk. he trudges toward their scheduled meeting point, hoping it still remains despite the lapse in schedule itself. ) ... (/ char catches sight of him. well, hints of him... that char just /knows/ it's him. lean and tall. lanky, kinda funny-looking when he even stands. slivers of distant lights illuminate those all-too familiar ears; the ones that stick out. ... chanyeol is /still/ waiting. somewhere between his stomach and chest just -- flutters[?] a bit at the tenacity of the gesture. ) ... better late than never, right? (/ char musters a smile, after self-consciously wiping at any blood or rubble from his face. he's pretty sure he has; he never got access to a mirror before this, so he might've looked like shit and wouldn't even have a clue. ) sorry, chanyeol.
chanyeol: ( / the excitement that bubbled in his stomach and the smile that was bloomed widely on his lips almost made him look like an idiot. it was okay though because it felt like his waiting wasn't in vain. even just hearing char's words made his smile widened even more. if it was possible half his face could be a smile altogether ) you were hitting it close to never though ( / as char closed the distance, the smile on his face that almost looked like it wanted to jump off and run away visibly became smaller. his eyes looked at the blood slightly smeared on his lip and the bruise that was turning blue and purple ) did you get caught in a stampede or something ( / he jokes even though the humor doesn't reach his eyes. eyes that look at char with concern and his heart that feels like it's being squeezed a bit too tight at the sight of his friend like that ) good thing i bought tissues for my stuffy nose ( / digging into his pocket he pulled out a couple tissue papers and held it out ) but we can get ice while we walk
char: (/ char purses his lips as soon as chanyeol points his battered condition out. then he can taste it; the drying blood that he missed in wiping off. ) ... something like that. (/ he chuckles with no feeling; he can't even try to put feeling in it anymore. but chanyeol kind of rekindles something. right now though, char's much to run down to act on it. and maybe a little scared. ) ... (/ char uses his sleeve to wipe off the blood, like no big deal. he gently pushes chanyeol's hand back. ) thanks but no thanks. (/ he musters a smirk. ) your snot might be on that. (/ char starts walking alongside the elder anyway, bumping against him as he's slightly unsteady on his feet. ) but no to the ice. you know i hate that shit.
chanyeol: hey! i'll have you know i managed to only use one tissue paper. these are all perfectly clean ( / yet he puts them away in his pocket and keeps them there. he knows that char wasn't going to take it even if he was persistent about it. the grin widens a bit more though, something that could never really be stopped. it was even harder to control his smile when it came to char. though he wasn't going to say that out loud. not when he presses that thought so deep and so hard it almost disappears. almost. ) not everything that helps is something necessarily something you like ( / he adds with a laugh, feeling the momentary bump before casually reaching out and draping his arm over char's shoulders in an attempt to help steady his walking. or walk straight at least ) do you think you can tip toe a bit char, so i don't have to lean down doing this ( / they stood out though, the melancholy atmosphere contrasting with their bright little bubble ) ...you missed the obituaries ( / a casual comment as he looks ahead )
char: i'll heal up faster than you and your cold. just you wait and see. (/ char smiles, bigger than he did before. it seems to be becoming a trend around chanyeol. char wonders if he notices. ) ... (/ silence falls over them then, after chanyeol mentions the whole purpose of this festival. ) yeah, i figured. ... i miss a lot of things. (/ char shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. he looks up slightly at chanyeol. char doesn't know why, but he feels significantly shorter next to him. it's almost comforting in a way, and char leans in slightly further against him. they fit nicely together... or something. char shouldn't be thinking like this. not on the topic of death notices. ) ... how was that...?
chanyeol: ( / chanyeol doesn't. he doesn't notice the smiles. not consciously that is, but subconsciously it does. it notices because his eyes become slowly mismatched as laughter escapes from his lips. even if it usually was easy to humor him. that was if you were a humorous person. char was anything but humorous at this moment. maybe. ) well, at least you didn't completely miss out. so we'll just do a lot of things to make up for what you missed out. aka keeping you hostage until the lanterns. ( / he tries to sound menacing with that threat, even look menacing for a moment turning his smile into a scowl but he chokes at the idea of how ridiculous he looks and breaks into laughter again. he doesn't see char lean into him, but he tightens his grip on his shoulder, almost in a comforting gesture ) it was......it was a bit hard ( / the words come out a bit of a struggle, smile still on his lips as he tries to piece the words together ) just sad really. lot of tears. probably still lots of them right now....
char: it must've been. (/ he murmurs, looking disinterested -- maybe apathetic, which is worse. but he tries to keep his distance from delving into deaths. it's touchy for him too, and his coping mechanism is just looking like he doesn't care. it's difficult though -- because this is chanyeol, and he wants to show he cares, but he's not sure how without going overboard. ) ... but how are /you/ handling it?
chanyeol: ( / the question surprises chanyeol because he thought he's been doing well. this has been the best he had to deal with it. with death in front of his. people would say it was with maturity. with age. he would say it's experience. the turmoil in his stomach rages on as he manages to keep his emotions in check. he has trouble looking at char by this point. eyes staring straight down the path in front of them and his body reflexively stiffens ) zitao didn't make it ( / he adds after a second or two and looks over at char ) but...i think me not throwing a tantrum is handling it pretty well right? ( / and he smiles and people would think it was a struggle. it wasn't. the curves on his lips were more subdued, a quiet smile, but altogether genuine ) i also found a great booth with corn on the cob that i think you'll get addicted to once you take a bite though. ( / a slight tug and a point at another direction and he doesn't let the topic press on farther. a bit afraid to dig in too deep )
char: (/ he's heard the name in passing a few times. char wants to know who he is, and who he is to chanyeol -- but he holds his tongue... which surprises him, because char usually blurts things out in that slapdash way he's known for. but death is another thing altogether. it changes char [in more ways than one]. ) ... um, i'm sorry. (/ he awkwardly says, voice as hesitant as the arm that lifts to hang around chanyeol's waist then. char pats a few times as some kind of comforting gesture, but now it just feels embarrassing. so thank god chanyeol changes the subject here. ) ... what's so special about corn? (/ char eyes up at chanyeol with slight suspicion, as if this were a trap. )
chanyeol: it's okay ( / he insists and smiles. it's something he had the right to grieve, yes. chanyeol just didn't want to grieve in front of char because the other doesn't need to see him break down. see him fall in bits and pieces inwardly at the thought of his friend because he just wants to focus on char. char who makes him feel full even if the ache still beats in chest. who keeps the warmth alive from within a little bit and he's in so deep. so deep and he knows it. ) you'll find out when you see! ( / the growing enthusiasm increasing as they make way closer to the booth ) it's not like i'm going to feed you magical rat poison shaped like corn, char ( / maybe he shouldn't have said that so loud when they finally made it to the booth with the workers giving him a judging glance ) two corn on a cob please ( / he says a bit embarrassed at what just happened and fumbling for his wallet )
char: (/ char's eyes are just dark caverns under his frown. worried, and maybe a little curious. ) ... (/ he goes along with it anyway, along with chanyeol. they still they like this though -- in each other's arm... kind of thing. char's not sure what to call it, and he tries not to overanalyse it. 'it's just for comfort's sake'. something in his chest prods in opposition though. ) ... looks like the booth people know you're onto them. (/ char chuckles quietly, observing the workers' slight [probably offended] grimaces. char gives them a smirk and somewhat presses back against chanyeol, edging behind him a bit... probably, maybe or maybe not using him as a human shield. ) -- hehe, are you buying my one too, hyung? (/ char asks with that childish air to him, more so insolent because he never calls chanyeol hyung unless he wants something. ) ... (/ when they receive their 'special' corn on the cobs, char eyes chanyeol first -- carefully. ) you eat first, maybe it is magical rat poison. (/ B> )
chanyeol: ( / chanyeol gives an apologetic expression to the workers who just roll their eyes and listen to chanyeol's order. two corn cobs sitting on the grill waiting to be just right. right before they would add the butter and the green onions to finish it off. a vegetable covered in fat and greases. unhealthy but worth it. like many things in chanyeol's eyes as his lips twitch at the formal term is heard ) hyung might ( / he repeats before pointing at the person behind him ) you can leave him to work of his share ( / a laugh escapes and he doesn't say he's kidding even when he hands the man two bills. enough to pay for the two corn on a cob. one of them happily in his hand ) eat yours first? ( / he says with a raised eyebrow before shaking his head and taking a bite of his own. the butter was a bit messy, smearing on the corners of his lips and bits of green onions stuck on the edges. he's too busy chewing thoroughly to really think about it ) see it's not rat poison. it's heavenly sent food. now you take a bite.
char: this looks so fattening. (/ char sighs like a teenage girl on a diet. ) ... (/ with a look resembling something that hovers between disgust and surprise, char watches chanyeol dig into his corn. ) you eat clumsily too. (/ he snorts, snatching a serviette from the stall counter, wiping the sides of chanyeol's mouth. that grease and those bits of onion crumpled into the tissue before being binned. ) ... they were ... annoying. (/ an inescapable smile twitches at char's lips then, and he decides to busy it by finally biting into his snack. it still doesn't stop the heat rushing to his cheeks though. )
chanyeol: this sounds like something the girls from school would say ( / the comment doesn't end a punctuation mark and he lets out a loud laugh ) if you really don't want it i can have it. more for me! ( / with a happy exclamation he completely tunes out char's words poking at his eating style. instead he continues to indulge in his festival treat unaware of the mess on his face until he feels something press on his lips. the words are lodged on his throats. silly remarks and gestures are out the window as he stills a bit, letting char continue his gesture ) ...thanks although i'm probably going to get my face all dirty again ( / he manages to say with a grin before continuing onward ) it's sad you missed the lanterns though. i think....you would have liked them. ( / the far edge of the dock a small distance away from them. he wonders how far they are by this point. if char could see them at all. )
char: (/ shrugs. ) i'll just wipe it again, you klutz. ... at least i'm not using your snotty tissues. (/ char smirks, not hesitating at all to taunt the other. ) ... i miss a lot of things. (/ char says, pretty sure he said it before tonight; too many times, really. ) ha... (/ smiles, albeit sadly. ) i'm a walking lantern anyway. it's not that much of a big deal. (/ out from the dock, he spots bright glitter along the black horizon; invisible against noir. char thinks he would've liked them too. ) ... sorry i was so late. (/ he murmurs with disappointed eyes before taking another crunch of his corn. )
chanyeol: i think after like the second day i'm not contagious anymore. so my snotty tissues wouldn't do anything mean to you! ( / a pout forms, bottom lip almost quivering and feeling insulted. though they never last long. soon enough he found the curl of his lips back on his face, one too bright to match with char's more melancholy smile ) you're more like a firefly..caught on fire instead ( / he murmurs a bit under his scarf before he inhales deeply, hopefully char didn't hear that ) wait... walking lantern ( / the rare moment of having an idea comes to mind and the excitement builds up so quickly, so does the phlegm in his throat and he finds himself bending down into a violent cough fit ) i'm ( / coughs ) okay ( / coughs more. it takes a few more seconds before he straightens himself and instead of apologizing. instead of commending on the incident earlier, he finds himself happily reaching out to grab char's arm and point at the dock ) let's make a lantern then. and float it off with the rest.....
char: (/ his ears feel like they perk at that term -- 'firefly'. he wonders when he'd last been called that. then again, only ravi called him that. and it really /had/ been a while. until the reigning 'charmander' kicked in. ) ... (/ he doesn't say anything about it. he's -- well, obviously his attention is pulled away, distracted by chanyeol sudden coughing fit. ) don't die. (/ char comments in that snarky way. then it dawns on him -- this festival's purpose was to mourn... for the dead... /well, shit/. ) umm... (/ on a whim, char turns toward the fading lights across the sea and bow toward them. ) sorry, sorry. (/ flushed hot or frozen cold, he doesn't know how he feels right now. it's probably a clash of both; makes him feel uneasy. ) ... isn't it a bit late now, chanyeol...? (/ char whines, but lets himself be dragged along by the elder. ) ... it's okay, we don't have to. (/ they reach the dock and char stares at the spare paper. he already knows it's going to look terrible. )
chanyeol: ... ( / the laugh the erupts from chanyeol's mouth is endless as he clutches at his side due to char's apology. it wasn't the actual statement that made chanyeol laugh. it was the way char took about it that he found so bemusing and it doesn't help much because his laughter turns into coughs again ) i'll try not to but you keep making laugh. which is becoming fatal ( / it was all in good jest though, mind concentrating on something else as he just pulls at char's arm towards the dock ) but i want us to ( / he pauses and looks over at char. the way he holds onto his corn cob stick on one hand and a childish expression on his face ) ...i want you to get a chance to experience like how i did. it might be better than...whatever made you late ( / he comments with a grin before reaching out to grab one of the spare paper ) i have 100% confidence in this baby ( / pats at the spare paper although he hasn't actually done anything yet...to his baby )
char: yah, don't laugh. (/ char whispers, nearly angrily -- more so surprised. as if this were a super-secret between only the two of them. char apologising to lanterns probably is a super-secret actually. ) ... (/ 'but i want us to'. chanyeol's voice resonates in his mind; echoes through his vacuous shell of a body and /fills/ it. he might know what people meant by that 'warm and fuzzy feeling' now. ) ... (/ char's... touched, to say so in the least. he hates sentimental things. not because they're mushy and sweet, but because he's so easily affected by it, it's difficult to hide. ) ... anything's better than what made me late. (/ he murmurs under his breath, brain struggling to connect to his mouth. ) ... (/ raises a [probably judgmental] brow at chanyeol though. 'baby'? ) i don't want to make your baby ugly. it'll probably drown anyway. (/ sits down though, albeit reluctantly, fingers tentatively sliding across the paper and wooden dowels. ) ... show me how you did it, hyung.
chanyeol: don't be so pessimistic, char. maybe as ugly it'll turn out to be it might float farther than the rest. ( / with a grin he looks down at the materials in front of them and reaches out ) first of all i did it like this ... ( / and he continues to explain. words careful and precise for once. a sign of serious concentration occurring as he'd point out where to go. what to fold and where to place the wooden dowels. fingers would reach out and grab onto char's, guiding through the motion ignoring the chaotic feeling resting within himself with each action he does. to char. with char. for char. ) do you think it's really that ugly now? ( / he says with a satisfying grin and points at the result of their efforts together ) i don't think baby will drown now.
char: ... you sound so ... gay. (/ taunts and chuckles at chanyeol despite seeing the sense in his words. char still doubts anything he'll create won't crash and burn though. ) ... (/ all humour is gone though, washed away by the hot flush that heats his face all of a sudden; when chanyeol's fingers slide against his own, guiding his hands across a series of steps to make a ... paper lantern or something. char completely forgets what he's supposed to be doing, and instead his attention is pulled to the... well... /intimacy/. ) ... uh-- ah... um... (/ char hears the rise in pitch of a series of words which don't quite reach him. it's a question but the pyro has no fucking idea what just happened. ) ... um, what? (/ he has to screw his eyes shut and shake his head a little to snap out of... what ever that was. he sees something close to resembling a decent floatable lantern. admittedly better than he had anticipated. ) ... it's alright, i guess. (/ purses his lips and frowns slightly at their hands, heart beating faster again. ) how're... we gonna light it? we're in public so i don't think i can... y'know.
chanyeol: i didn't know my orientation had a type of sound to it ( / explains easily and there was no anger in his words. nor was there any hidden passive aggressive sentiment to it. instead he found it humorous and the grin doesn't once fall of his face just because of that. not until it suddenly becomes quiet as he guides char through the steps to make the paper lantern. getting only broken sounds from the younger man and it almost sounds like he's choking. just less urgent. less like he was really struggling to get air. choking in slow motion you could call it ) you okay, char? ( / chanyeol's eyebrows knit a bit in concern after they made the paper lantern ) you sound like a cavemen. uh..ah umm ( / mocks before breaking into another soft laughter which dies down slowly after the question is asked. indeed. it needed to be lit. it needed fire ) ...um ( / he looks around before scooting closer and wrapping his arm around the the lantern, leaning in to let his touch char's shoulders, forming a circle with the two of them ) i think this looks concealed enough. ( / the hesitation was there. he knows that he was very close. the closest he's been to fire by doing this ) don't worry about how i feel....i..i think i can handle this distance
char: (/ ... 'orientation'?? ... chanyeol took it a bit /too/ literally. ... char smiles a little, a lot -- he doesn't know. because it doesn't necessarily mean chanyeol even /likes char/... in /that/ way. the like-like way. ) ... um, uh, yeah i'm... okay. (/ smiles meekly, shoving chanyeol playfully when he's mocked. ) shut up. (/ char's smile drops instantly when chanyeol wraps his arm around the very thing that will set alight. chanyeol will be hugging fire. not only that, but char can't help a though wander in the back of his mind -- one along the lines of 'this looks /really/ gay'. ) ... um, okay. (/ one arm rises to rest his hand on chanyeol's forearm, and the other dips into the lantern, flicking the wick to set it alight. it's a quick movement; probably not worth the stress before it. he just hopes people aren't looking. if they are, char hopes they're just looking at the two of them like this. speaking of which, ) ... what did you mean about... your orientation...?
chanyeol: that's rude to say to your hyung! ( / tries to look offended and menacing, shaking his fist at char as if that would make the other cower in fear ) i hope it's not uncomfortable...for you ( / he says after a moment regarding the position they were in. he was thankful enough that char was fine with. that simple okay being good enough for him. chanyeol wonders between this position, if it was uncomfortable for the other. if it was because of what he said. of who he was attracted to. the words that slipped out so easily that he usually keeps to himself ) ... ( / fingers dig slightly into char's shoulders as he watched the fire light within a second. still he managed to look without flinching. body relaxing and arms pulling away eventually. the paper lantern glowing between the both of them ) almost like the candle back in my room ( / he comments quietly the question that char ask throwing him off-guard afterwards and he blinks with wide eyes ) ....oh that....i swing for the same team ( / the attempt to make it casual, something out of the ordinary looks almost effortless. even though he could feel his heart about to drop into his stomach at any minute. because there were so many other things in the world to be considered a freak for )
char: ... (/ chanyeol doesn't flinch. and that makes char smile for some reason. it's a tired smile, from tonight's proceeding's, but it's a genuine one at the same time. ) you're getting better. (/ the breath intake char takes after they shift away is laborious, as if the amount of air is compensating for the space chanyeol filled up previously. it's not enough though, char realises. he always feels somewhat... /hollow/ without chanyeol around. the upbeat happiness char didn't have, the energy char lacked, the particular charm that char didn't know existed until it was by his side... even the longer strides that char wanted to keep up with. ) ... oh... (/ char was right... he's not about a lot of things, so he's still surprised. ) ... i can hear a lot of girls crying in disappointment. (/ the pyro smiles, probably wider than he's supposed to -- in spite of all those girls he just spoke of. ) ... (/ a long silence then, not knowing what to say. 'thanks'? ... no... that doesn't seem quite right. ) ... same... i guess
chanyeol: i learn from the best ( / the thought of nights when he'd watch the flames flicker comes to mind. nights where he'd try to stare, letting the flame flicker in front him. memories passing through each motion the element makes. two minutes was the longest he's learned to last so far. two minutes without flinching. without pulling away from the sheer fear of his memories consuming him whole. it seems so little but it meant so much. maybe it helps because when the candle is lit he thinks of someone's hand. vein's protruding hands that would gently bring to life the very thing he was afraid of and light it with ease. with such care that it almost made fire seem...endearing ) i'm learning to adjust my views ( / he continues before the statement brings a ridiculous grin on his face and slaps his hand on char's back from that and lingers there before he rubs char's back in a comforting manner. a manner of friends accepting the other. even if it's more a beacon of hope for chanyeol ) i think more girls are crying in disappointment for you than for me. ( / it sounded so casual, even if it meant so much because he accepted it. accepted char as he is as the other has for him. he's grateful...and thankful. looking down at the lantern he turns towards the body of water not to far ) ...should we see our baby off?
char: i know -- a lot of girls cry over me already. (/ smirks, that pretentious air returning to him as soon as he puts on this chichi facade. ) it's just i hear /nearly/ as many cry for you. another tall, handsome guy impossible for them to nab. (/ char smiles. ) welcome to the club. (/ and it seems so /effortless/ for him to say that, despite the fact his heart is racing at what he thought was an impossible speed, until now. ) ... (/ the pyro glances at the paper lantern between them again; he forgot about that. ) 'baby'? ... you get gayer and gayer. (/ char chuckles, nodding though. ) let's set it off. (/ and char wonders if this might be a metaphor for something. then, belatedly, wonders why he's reading so much into things. /it's just. a. fucking. paper. lantern./ ) ... (/ he lifts it from chanyeol's hands and hovers it above the water. ) ... do i make a wish or something before i let it go? (/ regardless of an answer, char makes a silent one, and settles it onto the water's surface. )
chanyeol: i only have sentimental feelings because you were so sure it'd be ugly. look at it now! ( / almost pats the lantern, only to realize the fire was flickering from within this time and quickly pulls his arm away, and carefully holds them on the side instead. the warmth was tingling as he glances at it before them before char agrees ) don't hold it too roughly! ( / he calls out with a wide grin on his face, knowing he was just playing to the parental role to amuse char and follows after the other close to the water ) um, i did for mine ( / he mentions belatedly as the lantern slowly drifts off. floating out in the distance. it had a long way to go before it would possibly meet up with the other lanterns. or maybe it would diverge into a completely different path and never come back. or maybe it'd find two of three stranded lanterns and form a companion. either way, chanyeol just hopes it won't be too lonely ) maybe it'd be a good time to head back now. and finally get that fixed up ( / point at char's lips before bring back and touches is own lip, tapping it lightly )
char: it's... still kinda ugly. (/ char chuckles. ) your fingers are clumsy, so when they were guiding mine... they uh, ... yeah. it turned into that. (/ shoves his now free hands into his pockets. his brows raise in further curiosity of chanyeol's possible wish. but he knows what they say -- wishes won't come true if you speak about it. but char doesn't believe in superstition. that's what he says anyway. ) ... (/ purses his lips as soon as chanyeol refers to his busted pair. ) i'm fine, chanyeol. (/ the pyro dismisses with a sigh, forcing his gaze to rip off chanyeol's own lips. how deep char is in [what ever this is] right now is ridiculous. he kind of wishes he could climb out of this well of emotion, but kind of wishes he'd stay here forever. he likes it here; nothing but himself, chanyeol and the moon. and hundreds of floating stars. char watches them drift away. ) let's go.
( * somber. thatās how this lantern festival feelsā¦ and for good reason, too. although the scattering of booths do bring faint, fleeting bursts of cheer amongst his peers and professors, thereās no lifting this heavy black aura that seems to hang suspended over the docks. no one is here to celebrate and be merry, not this time. a festival of remembrance, kyungsoo thinks, the cold salt-wind of a nighttime sea kissing his cheeks and turning them peachy pink. a festival to honor those we have lost, while also celebrating life. he stands alone at the end of a quiet dock, a fair bit away from where the main hustle and bustle of action is located. lonesome fishing boats bob forlornly in the inky waves, silver moonlight illuminating the aging wood and rusting steel that comprises their sides and bellies. he almost can make out the name of one of the shipsā¦ but, in the end, the red paint has weathered away too greatly to be read. kyungsooās palm searches his hoodieās pockets for his cellphone, sliding it out to give the still-shattered screen a brief glance ā 11:29 p.m., nearly midnight. theyād begin to light lanterns soon. he wants to be there for thatā¦ afterward, heāll leave. but heās got to stay until then, no matter the danger of being discovered; kyungsoo couldnāt bear to slip away without first releasing one of those beautiful lanterns into the starry sky, or, perhaps, the gently churning sea. he feels like itās something that he just has to doā¦ out of both respect for the fallen, as well as the symbolic āfreedomā from grief. letting it go. he doubts that sending a little paper construction aglow with candlelight on its way will help him feel better, but, well, how can it hurt? )
( * the pier creaks and sways beneath the soles of his feet, and within a few hurried strides, heās back onto the stable concrete of solid ground. heād much rather stay with the boats and the vigilant sea, relishing the calmness of peace for as long as he canā¦ but thatās not an option for him. itās not yet midnight, and he hasnāt searched everywhere, even if heās given most places a thorough look-over already ā so that means that char might still be here. hopefully. a shard of ice punches itself through the soft red walls of his heart at the thought of char possibly avoiding him [or not even coming at all], the tails of kyungsooās lips twitching slightly, fighting off a grimace. hood pulled up over his head, the petite mutant weaves in and out of the rows of booths and the sparse pockets of mingling people, allowing his legs to carry him where they will. heās not used to wearing clothes as tight as these, not at all; thereās no give to the taut fabric, and his jeans offer little warmth to his thighs and calves. but he does like them ā likes the quiet rustle of fabric as he moves, likes how both men and women take notice of him when he walks by. heās not hungry yet and doesnāt think he will be for some time [one simply doesnāt want food when their guts feel like theyāre being prodded at with a fork], but the jumbo pretzel stand does manage to catch his attention. the boy is considering spending a little of his cash to splurge on one when he catches it out of the corner of his eye ā a constant, flickering flash of purple. the obnoxious neon sign of some western-style pub, proclaiming in its ugly indigo script that this bar has the cheapest beer and hottest bbq wings on the docks. kyungsooās eyes narrow into furious slits, the apples of his cheeks flushing with color that isnāt happy nor flustered in nature. )
( * heās a hurricane once more as he pushes through the heavy front doors, storming forth without looking back. his pheromones are beautiful and satiny compared to the foulness of this stale, smoky air. one incoherent drunk wolf-whistles when he passes by, the piggish manās drink sloshing over the rim of his glass when he raises it high to toast something that sounded an awful lot like āboys with nice, perky assesā. kyungsoo surprises himself by feeling absolutely nothing at all, not even a shred of pain, when he drives his already bruised fist into the manās jaw viciously enough to send him skidding across the floor. heās beyond feeling, it seems ā and that scares him. all thatās left is sheer, unadulterated rage. well, everyone sure is looking at him now, so kyungsoo utilizes this opportunity to study the stunned, all somewhat-inebriated faces that blink back at him. all but one manā¦ one man who sits alone at the bar, his shoulders broad and hunchedā¦ and all-too-familiar. )
( * kyungsoo doesnāt hesitate. he crosses the room in seconds, and his palm, still numbed into oblivion, connects with charās cheek. the smack of flesh upon flesh slices through the muffled noise of old rock music and some sports games on the tvs that hang on the walls. all is silent, every man and woman in the pub awaiting the result of this surprising turn of events. ) ā¦told you iād find you. ( * kyungsoo says, voice scarily calm and steely cool ā although his expression does not match in the slightest. )
( * a bystander mumbles ālooks like someone is in troubleā. kyungsoo couldn't agree more. )
k: when you are dating someone do you believe in going on ābreaksā?
( * he mulls the question over for a moment, toying at his tongue piercing with his teeth in the way he always does when carefully pondering something ā having come to a conclusion, he gives a slight nod of his head. ) iā¦ suppose soā¦ but iād have to trust him a whole lot. to know that heāll come back to me, if that makes any sense? i donāt think a ābreakā would be any different than a breakup if he just has no interest in being with me anymoreā¦
a: who do you like and why?
no one! ( * āis said too quickly, with too sharp of an edge to his normally gentle, mousy voice. a blush creeps from ear to ear across his snowy cheeks. ) l-like i saidā¦ n-no oneā¦
i: whatās the most important part of a relationship?
trust. if iām going toā¦ to open myself up to somebodyā¦ ( * the tails of his lips twitch upward into a sad, bittersweet sort of smile, fingertips subconsciously probing at the bands of scar tissue that circumference his pale neck. ) iām going to have to trust him with all my heart. trust him to be patient with me when iām difficultā¦ and to always be gentle. to notā¦ ( * he purses his lips, gaze lowering to fixate on his shoes. ) ā¦ hurt me.
s: what do you consider a deal breaker?
( * the boyās doe eyes widen suddenly, rigidness seizing up his body. he folds his arms around himself, as if trying to hug in warmth ā all of the rosy color that inhabits the flesh of his cheeks has been bleached away within the breadth of a few heartbeats. ) if he doesnāt understand the word āno'ā¦ t-that's my ultimate deal breakerā¦
o: do you believe in the phrase, āage is just a number?ā why or why not?
( * a shudder rocks through his body. kyungsoo attempts to hide it with a hasty, mirthless smile. ) justā¦ no. i justā d-donāt think itād work out, me withā¦ someone much, much olderā¦
bonus o: turn ons?
strong armsā¦ u-um, a nice jawlineā¦ rich, woody scentā¦ ( * he looks like heās about to explode at any moment, face flushed a brilliant beet-red. kyungsoo stifles an embarrassed, snort-like giggle behind his hands, shrinking in on himself. wishing his mutation was invisibility more than ever. ) n-nice lipsā¦. t-there, i-i answered, c-can i please be done now?
