Chapter Text
54 FEELS LIKE WE’RE DYING
The wind swept with more vigor behind the school, just after another gym class, and it felt like bliss against his perspiring skin. He had his eyes closed when footsteps came and heard the newcomer’s feet skid to a halt beside him.
It was silent, yet again, as if it was just Chanyeol and the wind. That was, until Sanghoon spoke, "Heard Do Kyungsoo"s also… you know…"
With a barely held back sigh, Chanyeol blinked his eyes open and was greeted by the sight of clothes too neat for most of the students.
Sanghoon held a camera in his hand, its lenses directed at the area beyond the chain-link fences that was all green and shadows. He doubted the camera could capture the dark woods with precision or beauty that one could only experience by simply being in its proximity, especially with the chain-link fences and dumped wooden crates in view, but Chanyeol could not care less how the picture would turn out. He had too much to think about already.
"You know,” a snort, “should I say it? It’s a real fucking funny word."
"Sanghoon."
The shutter clicked and Sanghoon finally turned his head, regarding him with eyes wide that seemed to find humor—with what, that was lost to Chanyeol. "It’s not true, hm?"
He let the silence stretch before he grumbled, "Not true." Sanghoon stared at him and Chanyeol stared back, not much able to muster up resolution in his gaze.
Two beats passed before Sanghoon nodded and shrugged nonchalantly. "If you say so. Rumors are just rumors, anyway." With a smile and a pair of sharp eyes, he nudged Chanyeol’s foot. "Right?"
He didn"t answer, eyes wandering past the chain-link fences and quietly wondering why Sanghoon was adamantly updating Chanyeol of all people about the school’s alleged homosexuals. He didn’t get the boy’s fixation on him with the matter. A part of him started fretting if Sanghoon knew anything about his friends and was, in his twisted way, warning Chanyeol to end his friendship soon. He had certainly never approached any of them except Chanyeol, not even for a quick chat or a flippant question about a project. Surely he wasn"t suspecting Chanyeol of it but he never really knew with Sanghoon.
Dropping the camera slung across his neck, Sanghoon took out a cigarette pack tucked in the inside of his ankle sock, perching a stick between his lips and offering the box to Chanyeol. Chanyeol mouthed a ‘no’ and inclined his head away.
"What happened to you last time, eh?” He asked, searching his pockets for a lighter. “You disappeared so suddenly. Yoonhee said you pushed her away. She’s quite hurt! Dear boy, you never do that to a girl. Unless maybe she was being a bitch then she deserved it.”
This time, Chanyeol failed to suppress a loud sigh. "Felt sick."
"Ah, good thing you"re still in one piece! It"s not easy to walk the streets all drunk when you’re alone. Even if you’d already puked it all out. Trust me, I know.”
His mind wandered to Kyungsoo, to Kyungsoo completely at the mercy of Chanyeol, gasping and skin pressed against skin; to the hunger in his eyes, the demanding pull by the neck, the clashing of lips; to the tender caress as he held Chanyeol close before Chanyeol had succumbed to dreams more dreadful than the usual.
“Do you know how I can talk to… Yoonhee?” He almost couldn’t hear himself from how loudly his heart pounded.
“Oh?” Sanghoon finally found his lighter and lit his cigarette, much to Chanyeol’s displeasure. “Why?”
“I feel bad for leaving suddenly and maybe…” he licked his lips, tasting the lies against his tongue, “maybe I– I"d like to… see her again…”
Sanghoon whirled his full attention to him, eyes widening in glee. “You liked her? I fucking knew it. Told you you could trust me, man. Best fucking tits I’ve ever seen. You won, you really won.”
Chanyeol’s mind circled back to that night. It had never been easy to stuff down his fantasies and having fed them, it was much harder to do so now, much much harder to have to ignore Kyungsoo. He had done so long enough for it to be easy and yet, tides of pain kept sweeping his chest and prodding his throat. He gulped and breathed it down.
A flash spurred him out of his thoughts, tugging his absent gaze towards a grinning Sanghoon aiming the camera at him.
“What the fuck?! What’s that for? Delete that.”
“Documentation.” He cackled as he gazed down at his photo. “Don’t worry, Park, you look good.” He winked before practically skipping away, his elated humming gradually becoming muted by the rustling of the leaves. He hadn’t even noticed the air went still.
74 YOU’VE GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY
Chanyeol was neither comfortable nor uneasy. Much like in the party, he felt practically nothing. Though she was softer and gentle, different from the bolder side of her he’d encountered under drunken stupor that had hungered for affection, something still clawed at his guts that he’d tried to drown in the food and drinks they shared, tamper its screaming with her voice, and take his steps heavier to daunt its ruckus. How long could Chanyeol run away like this?
He had offered to walk her home and Chanyeol regretted it when they came to the familiar path towards Kyungsoo"s. He felt nervous, constantly looking around like a thief in the wild.
"Thank you for today,” she beamed up at him. “I had fun."
Chanyeol stretched his lips into a friendly smile. "Sorry for pushing you."
She laughed, and though it sounded nice, there were no butterflies fluttering in his stomach, just the same sick worming its way back up as a lump in his throat.
"Don’t worry about it. I know I could be too much when I"m drunk." She said, and Chanyeol thought she must have been teasing. He didn’t know her enough, and he didn’t really want to know. Chanyeol only nodded shyly and she smiled before quickly, almost bashfully, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. A whiff of floral perfume assaulted his senses and the light wetness she’d left felt heavy against his skin. His curled hand twitched in its pocket.
"I"ll be here if you want a second date, or maybe more than a second date." She quirked her lips, eyes slightly lidded, before breaking into a genuine smile that had his guilt doubling over. Chanyeol almost sighed in relief when she finally walked towards her home.
When the door closed behind her back, Chanyeol felt his shoulders sag and turned around, subtly wiping his cheek only to freeze mid-action.
Eyes met another set of eyes; dread sank into his being as his shoulders tensed. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what to say or do. The false security in avoidance clutched him tight. He’d rather remain in limbo, in the uncertain plane between what felt like a matter of life or death, but now that Kyungsoo was there, he supposed he should at least greet him.
“Hey,” said Chanyeol stiffly. He did not know what else to do but as he watched Kyungsoo briskly retreat, Chanyeol hurriedly ran and raised his voice. “Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, wait.”
Only when Chanyeol reached to grab Kyungsoo’s arm did he acknowledge him, abruptly halting and looking at him with his lips curled up in a grimace and eyes glassy.
“No. Stop. Shut up.”
Chanyeol inhaled sharply. He had known his hasty withdrawal was an asshole move but running away meant he hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t considered what it would be like when he’d face the consequences, hadn’t contemplated how much he’d hurt Kyungsoo. As he thought about his regrets, he came to the realization of having nothing to offer that would be fair to him, not even if he went down on his knees and wailed at his feet, begging for absolution.
“I get it. I do,” he released a shaky breath, turning away, “but I can"t just keep waiting for you with arms wide and waiting each time you leave.”
His mind reeled and he felt the lump in his throat grow bigger. God, he wanted to puke. “What does that mean?”
“You were right. You hurt me, and you keep hurting me and I keep letting you. I care for you, Chanyeol, truly. I… as a friend, first of all, I love you,” Chanyeol felt his heart stutter, “but I think it"s best if we stay away from each other for a while. Keep doing what you’re doing. Go on fancy damn dates and kiss girls you like. Whatever.”
Blood drained from his face. “No…”
“It should clear our heads for a bit—”
“No, please, Kyungsoo. I-I’ve just been confused, confused, Kyungsoo—”
“That"s why we need to—”
“NO,” Chanyeol exclaimed, only to flinch and look around. No one seemed to be nearby. “No, Kyungsoo, please, I…”
Kyungsoo watched him quietly. He opened his mouth to continue begging, to be more thorough in his words now that Kyungsoo was waiting for him, but words escaped him before he could gather them.
In his momentary silence, Kyungsoo slowly smiled, a weak look at Chanyeol as if he’d just proven his point. “You should go home, Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol shook his head, mind rattled. “Please. I don"t want to lose you. Even as a friend. You’re my best friend.”
“You"re not losing me. I—”
A loud series of expletives came from the front door. Kyungsoo"s father came, staggering yet persistent. Chanyeol hadn’t noticed they’d reached Kyungsoo’s house. The shouts were almost incoherent but what was clear was the beer in his hand and his beckoning Kyungsoo impatiently with the other, squinted eyes glaring hard.
“I need to go,” Kyungsoo hurriedly muttered, not even looking back at Chanyeol.
“Kyungsoo, don’t.”
A bottle sailed across the barren lawn and landed into pieces at Kyungsoo’s feet. Kyungsoo jolted then froze. Chanyeol pleaded for Kyungsoo to come with him but he stayed rooted, staring down at the glass embedded on his skin and scattered on the thin grass. His father only took two steps, a hand outstretched towards Kyungsoo, when Chanyeol unthinkingly met the man halfway with a swinging fist.
It hurt, Chanyeol punched wrong and it was bound to be a persistent pain for days, but he didn’t care as he hit the man once more. Aided by the inebriation, the man easily fell to the ground and Chanyeol stood over him, raining kicks to the torso and crashing his knuckles against the skull beneath him, again and again, and again, before hauling the man up by the scruff of his soiled shirt and throwing him back down, farther away from Kyungsoo.
He could hear the neighbors coming closer and their sorry attempts to calm him down but if anything, it made him more furious. Had they barreled out of their safe homes and asked an abominable father to stop hurting his son too? It was only now when someone retaliated that they thought the violence wrong and Chanyeol almost felt like throwing beer bottles in every house in this wretched street and setting them all on fire. Hell, if he were less occupied by hitting Kyungsoo"s father he"d have reached for the rusty trash bin and thrown it at the direction of the guy asking him to "Show the poor guy some mercy!"
No one had braved the scene and held him back but Kyungsoo, a hand gripping his arm and shaking him.
“—yeol, just stop. Let’s just go. Chanyeol, listen– Stop.”
He barely registered Kyungsoo’s plea amidst the flurry but when he did, he stilled. His voice was thick and wavering, he’d hiccupped and gasped. Chanyeol abandoned his one-sided fight to turn and saw Kyungsoo crying. Kyungsoo was crying . Chanyeol froze, staring at his friend. He’d never let Chanyeol see his tears these days. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried with Chanyeol or anyone else around. There was fear in his eyes, and Chanyeol ached even more. What had he done?
With the burning anger in his heart allayed, Chanyeol nodded. He sent a final seething look at the crumpled form of Kyungsoo’s father touching his battered face, mumbling curses, and at the bystanders and neighbors rushing towards the man.
"Fucking lay your hand on him again, asshole," he spat, and Kyungsoo just tugged harder. "Do us a favor and kill yourself."
"Chanyeol!" Kyungsoo hissed, and this time, he let Kyungsoo pull him away.
52 HEAVENLY CREATURES
Chanyeol quickly finished tending to Kyungsoo’s legs, thankfully not as badly hurt as he’d thought they were. Picking up small shards was admittedly less difficult than finding which words to say next considering their previous conversation. He was grateful that Kyungsoo then wordlessly reached for his hands, coated with blood. Most of it weren"t his own but Chanyeol thought that he didn’t care whatever the case was just as long as he could protect Kyungsoo from further harm. In their tense walk home, it dawned on him that he might have just made it worse. Far more likely, when Kyungsoo was to come back, his father would take it all and more out on him. He considered fighting his mother to make Kyungsoo stay but he knew Kyungsoo himself would outright refuse.
Despite everything, Kyungsoo remained quiet. He was meticulously but gently rubbing away the blood and grit stuffed underneath his nails. Chanyeol stared up at him as he kneeled on the floor of his room, thinking about wanting to hold Kyungsoo, at least shield him with his body if he couldn’t trade places with him. He wished he could do more.
Chanyeol"s body seemed to be ruled by emotions in the recent days rather than deliberate choices that had weighed the pros and cons or considered the possible aftermath, and he felt his free hand reach for Kyungsoo’s cheek, no longer tear-stained. His fingers were a hair’s breadth away when Kyungsoo turned his head and avoided his touch.
He searched Kyungsoo’s blank face, trying to catch his gaze, but Kyungsoo resolutely stared at one corner of the room. His hands had halted and he didn’t seem to mind that his trousers were getting wet from the heavier end of the towel settling on his lap. With defeat, Chanyeol dropped his reaching hand and only then did Kyungsoo continue.
When he’d finished, Kyungsoo carefully let the hand rest on the space beside him in the mattress. They stayed in this sort of tableau for a while—Chanyeol kneeling in front of Kyungsoo and waiting, Kyungsoo averting his gaze and similarly waiting. Chanyeol decided to bite the bullet.
“I do want you.” He fiddled with the blanket under his palm, wanting to chant a series of apologies but he didn’t think Kyungsoo would believe him. He settled for the more difficult ordeal of finally admitting it to the both of them. “I think I"ve always wanted you, I just never… I thought... I thought maybe that…”
He groaned. Kyungsoo refused to react, not even to turn his head. Chanyeol wished he’d scoff or shout or insult him but this way Chanyeol was scrambling to form his thoughts coherently and was left unsure if those his hands would find purchase on and continue to present to Kyungsoo were right. He had no idea if what he was doing or saying was right.
“I don"t know!” He exclaimed, voice a little sharper. “I just… I can"t imagine life without you. I’ve… I care for you too and I know nothing will ever be the same and having you like… like that, I mean, a part of me still thinks it’s wrong—could be wrong—but I’m, well, weirdly it’s easier to wrap my head around it if it’s not about myself. I mean, what I mean is, well, I really said some awful shit to you and Sehun and Jongin but it’s easier to be sorry and berate myself and remember not everything written in a book or spoken during a sermon or taught by our parents or something is fact than recognize that maybe I am, you know, that I like other, uh, boys. Boy. That I like a boy. That I like you. And that it"s okay? I’m scared—I"m scared I’m wrong but I also want to see where this takes me, takes us. But it really really just scares me ‘cause what if we’re just, I dunno, faking it but we don’t know? Reading it wrong or something? Maybe this will just ruin us and destroy a perfectly good friendship.
“And I do too, you know? Care for you. Love you as a friend. I… I’m scared of my mom. I’m scared of that bastard for you but I’d beat him up again. I"m scared we"re really going to burn in hell for this. I"m scared what would be left of us if people knew. I’m scared for me and for you. I’m scared for Jongin. I’m scared for Sehun. I’m… Kyungsoo, I…” Chanyeol rapidly blinked back his tears.
It was silent. He fixated on the cracks in the wooden floorboards, not particularly because anything about them was interesting but to have somewhere to direct his eyes and prevent them from roaming in agitation. His head was already reeling and his hands, shaking. When he chanced a glance up, Kyungsoo finally met his gaze. A face that had donned a stoic mask was cracking with every quiver of his lip. Kyungsoo cleared his throat and looked away, but his hand reached for Chanyeol’s unbandaged one tentatively. Chanyeol twisted it to make their palms meet.
Quietly, he spoke, “Thank you for telling me that.”
Chanyeol’s heart started to fall.
“It,” Kyungsoo quickly retorted but paused at the loss of words, eyes flitting around as if to catch his thoughts or his composure. “It scares me too and… But I still stand by what I said.”
Chanyeol stared at their hands, feeling his mind reel and yet also go blank.
“We’re not quite on the same page. It’s not gonna work. At least not yet.”
“But I–I don’t want to run from you anymore. I want to try. It has to count for something.”
“And do you think that"s enough?”
A sharp inhale. “I don"t want to lose you.”
Kyungsoo regarded him and for a moment, it looked like Kyungsoo was going to give in. Chanyeol anticipated his decision, with a heart beating against his ears and his lungs seeming to forget their function, but Kyungsoo only reached to tuck his fringe to the side, fingers lightly grazing his furrowed brows, saying, “I know. Neither do I, which is why.”
Silence fell in the room as all sorts of disquiet ravaged his inside. With the way Kyungsoo’s fingers shook he guessed he was the same. Chanyeol let his shoulders sag enough for his whole upper body to lean completely towards Kyungsoo, his head resting on his lap. Kyungsoo laid his hand on top of his head and Chanyeol closed his eyes. It’s barely past noon but he’s spent.
In the distance, he could hear children shouting about sore losers and cheating and the rules of the game and penalties, then delightful cheering and whooping. A mother called out for her child with a frustrated note. The rest decided to move their playground to the other street. Chanyeol continued to hold onto Kyungsoo and he felt fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes by the hem of his shirt.
His mind traveled to a memory in their younger years, when they were ten, of the two of them lounging underneath the cool shade of a tree as the other kids continued to frolic under the heat of the sun. Kyungsoo had been tracing the map on the back of his shirt that his mother got from a souvenir shop. Chanyeol kept veering away, ticklish and threatening to wrestle Kyungsoo if he refused to stop. Kyungsoo continued on, much rounder eyes lit with mischief, and they ended up all muddy, blades of young grass clinging to their clothes and skin. His mother had been pissed when he came home just before dusk but nothing seemed to matter as he"d shared a conspiratorial smile with Kyungsoo who had been waving from the fence.
A jiggling of the locked doorknob broke him from his reverie, quickly followed by his mother’s suspecting shouts. Immediately, Chanyeol stood up, glanced at Kyungsoo with a silent question that he didn’t bother getting the answer for to open the door, careful to hide his wounded hand from view. He felt dread overtaking him; she’s bound to know about what had happened earlier and he hadn’t quite prepared his mind.
"Ah, of course," his mother mumbled under her breath, eyeing Kyungsoo who’d moved to hide the basin and the cloth along with his wounded legs. Chanyeol thanked God she didn’t comment any further when she turned to him instead, vexation clear in her eyes. "Is this why you were gone today?"
As if to hide all traces of sin on his skin, he shuffled to hide half his body behind the door. "No, he just came over. You can ask Dad."
“Yeah, what else’s your excuse?”
“I was busy…”
"I am busy too, busy trying to feed you, you ungrateful child, but you don"t see me skipping Sunday masses, do you?” Chanyeol pretended the words didn’t hurt and willed himself not to dwell. “You don’t have time for the Lord anymore. It’s why you’re getting into all sorts of trouble these days."
"I"m sorry, Mom. I"m going this Sunday."
“You"re always in your room but you don’t clean up,” she continued on to nitpick all the faults she could find in his room, now glaringly ignoring Kyungsoo’s presence. Finally, she sighed, “I’m leaving. You won’t need to cook for your father. God knows where he’s off to again. And please, don’t burn dinner again.”
His mother reminded him of everything, dousing him in cold water. Kyungsoo was right to put his foot down; he wasn’t ready. Had he insisted further and Kyungsoo accepted, he felt like he could crumple down at his mother’s feet under her accusatory gaze to wail and beg for forgiveness.
He didn’t budge from the door yet, waiting for the sound of the front door slamming and for silence to befall the house before trudging back to his bed. This time, he placed himself beside Kyungsoo and lied across his bed. Their legs were lightly touching.
“Stay,” he asked, staring at his dirty ceiling. “Please.”
He felt the hesitation in the stillness in the air but soon enough, Kyungsoo walked to his dresser and grabbed a change of clothes. He felt his lungs expand, slightly.
Kyungsoo joined him shortly after, their shoulders pressed and it’s the closest they could ever be without hugging. Chanyeol didn’t think they could hug anymore, not with all the things that they uncovered between them. He felt both their breathing slowing down. This time, Kyungsoo wouldn’t ask what he’d want to eat and Chanyeol wouldn’t mind. He didn’t feel like he could anyway, his stomach so unresting for it to take in anything.
37 PLEASE BE MINE
In his dreams, Kyungsoo was always there. He"s the boy who accompanied him as he ran, the boy he followed around as they took off running, the boy who saved him when he was under and being taken away by an unknown entity before they ran hand in hand. They were always running, and it was always Kyungsoo.
Beyond dreams, Kyungsoo remained by his side but there’s hesitancy in the simplest touches. They’re trying to be rational and act like adults. Sehun and Jongin thought otherwise, that they"re being children for ignoring the other—which they weren"t, but if once upon a time they were always attached to the hip, nowadays there"s tense silence and eyes wary of meeting. Chanyeol guessed Kyungsoo didn’t share with them what had happened.
And then there was Dohyeon, easily looping his arm with Kyungsoo"s and Kyungsoo encouraging him by letting it be. He saw the boy less and less in the following weeks but Chanyeol was still uneasy about Kyungsoo hanging out with Dohyeon. He wouldn’t admit it outright but his disgruntlement was not solely for the massive target on his back that could turn Kyungsoo into a casualty. With the image of him kissing Kyungsoo seared into his brain, Chanyeol was struggling tampering down what was, in fact, jealousy and spite. His thoughts and feelings were terribly irrational and if Chanyeol couldn"t cope with what had happened soon enough, he could only keep hoping Dohyeon would grow bored of Kyungsoo.
In the first place, Chanyeol shouldn’t be feeling this way when Kyungsoo was not even his to begin with nor did Dohyeon ever hold Kyungsoo"s affection. In retrospect he shouldn"t have worried but such was the ramifications of unprocessed emotions. He never did understand what had transpired then.
“Why’d he,” he started, one Saturday afternoon they were staying at Jongin’s backyard. Sehun and he had gone to the nearest store for a quick grab of cheap snacks they’d all suddenly mentioned craving. “—you know? Dohyeon. In the forest.”
Kyungsoo barely glanced away from the geography book he’s skimming. “He was just confused.”
Chanyeol was processing the words, slowly.
“He likes someone else,” he followed, yet Chanyeol remained quiet.
What was he to say to that? It was unlikely but Chanyeol started doubting himself as well. Had he too just been confused when Kyungsoo grabbed him by the back of the neck after Chanyeol got him off then pressed their mouths together? But the fact was that Chanyeol had since been thinking about Kyungsoo’s lips long before that night, not always exactly to kiss. Sometimes he’d just sit by and admire those features among many other admirable features. It was weird but he decided it wasn’t something to whisper to a confessional booth about; it was fine so long as it wasn’t acted out. Surely every boy had gone through that? If not every boy then perhaps every boy with a sense of artistry in his bones. Perhaps it was like those out-of-the-blue thoughts urging you to dive into traffic and anticipate your body crumpling under a six-wheeler truck for the whole town to see and be traumatized about, albeit less harmful but had more bearing. An impulsive question to Sanghoon during Biology class soon proved it false, and jacking off much faster when his mind had kept roaming to Kyungsoo and the sensation of his breath against his neck furthered how unusual it was.
“What? Are you jealous?” Kyungsoo piped in and Chanyeol felt his heart beat out his chest.
It was a joke but like many jokes that held a portion of truth, it punched exactly where it was sore and Chanyeol found himself floundering a low, “Don"t be stupid, Kyungsoo."
Kyungsoo seemed to have realized what he"d said and froze. Chanyeol just felt like sticking his head into an oven. They were making progress—or, Kyungsoo was making progress in their "arrangement" and was ready to make funny quips but Chanyeol just ruined it. Kyungsoo looked like he was about to say something but thought against it and returned to the book.
Chanyeol wanted nothing but to reach for his hand or huddle up beside him as a friendly comforting gesture but it was now impossible. He missed his best friend terribly. Would everything have been worth it in the end? Were these complex emotions worth fighting for or should he be burying it to be forgotten?
“… Kyungsoo.”
“Hm?”
Looking around, wary of the possibility of anyone listening nearby, Chanyeol released a shaky breath. They were alone yet they were never safe.
“I know we’re not…" he trailed off, “but how can Sehun and Jongin do it?”
Kyungsoo was still staring at the same page, legs curling tighter to pull the book closer, picking on the folded edge of the glossy page. “I think it also had to do with their siblings knowing and still loving them. It"s easier that way, I guess.”
“Neither of us have siblings”
“That"s not the point.” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes but smiled in amusement. Chanyeol felt the tightness in his chest ease slightly. “A family who’d support and protect you. Goes a long way, I imagine. We do have Sehun and Jongin. At this point they’re family. Maybe Dohyeon too if you stopped hating him.”
“I don"t hate him,” he retorted, not quite sure if it’s the truth.
Kyungsoo only hummed, staring at the photo of a vast ocean for a few more seconds, before slamming it shut and turning to Chanyeol. “Come with me next week. Sunday morning. In the next town.”
Chanyeol didn’t want to seem too eager so he paused for a few seconds before he nodded. “Until when?”
“Whole day.”
Chanyeol raised his brow in intrigue but once again nodded. “You"re skipping choir again?”
“And you"re skipping Sunday mass again?”
Chanyeol grinned as he considered making a remark about Kyungsoo being a bad influence on him but thought it too soon.
They continued to sit in silence until Sehun and Jongin finally came back, with tales of a burglar cat stealing Jongin’s fresh pizza slice. Kyungsoo cooed at a bunch of photos Jongin took of the aforementioned cat with his small digital camera. Their chatter and laughter were melodious. Chanyeol stared at them with an aching heart, wishing the good moments would last.
40 IF I HAD A GUN
"Isn"t this an act of betrayal?” Chanyeol jested as he followed Kyungsoo around the shelves possibly taller than his own room. “You work for our humble little library with shitty wallpaper but you"re, uh, fraternizing with the neighbor who has more fancy globes than we have decorations." Chanyeol skimmed his hand at the globe in front of him, the second one in the library. He turned to Kyungsoo. "Like, sleeping with the enemy."
Kyungsoo continued browsing. "I don’t think you understand what you just said."
"What are you looking for, anyway?”
At this, Kyungsoo finally looked up, eyes gleaming. “A secret, but you are welcome to try to figure it out.”
Frowning, Chanyeol eyed the stack of newspapers, magazines, and books. "Why won"t you just tell me?"
"I’ll tell you when it"s all done."
He was curious but it hadn’t reached the point of it eating away at him, so he agreed, "I"ll wait for you then."
Chanyeol turned back to the globe, his hand floating above the blue, eyes trained on a tiny land.
Humans were so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, weren’t they? Even their town was indistinguishable despite the globe being wider than the square table nearby that it tugged at Chanyeol, how essentially nothing would matter in the end. But, for him—not for the heavens that held too much power, not for the society that imposed its rules on everyone—some things just mattered.
He watched Kyungsoo, fixated on his search, with a slight bite on his inner lip and a finger tapping the pages, and he felt his heart ache. How it ached even for the mundane moments.
The sun was stark on their necks when they left the library. They had a late lunch in a shack by the street, with adults in casual or workplace wear around. A handful of them were smoking and Chanyeol ushered him and Kyungsoo to sit themselves several steps away.
Between them, they discussed nothing important, like the food and the other stalls, or why there weren’t blue trees and no red grass, or the useless clock tower and the unpaved sidewalks, or how hilarious birds were and how stupid Junseok from Kyungsoo’s elective class was. Once Kyungsoo had invited him here last week, it had been too easy to fall back to the flow of their friendship that it was almost terrifying.
Neither of them planned to come back home soon, especially not when the bus they rode only made rounds in mornings and evenings. Though this town was one of the nearest ones, it was still a long way away. They could, of course, walk languidly, stay in the almost-always deserted gas station and stopover for a slushie, then arrive home bone tired with the sun still around when they pass out in their rooms. Certainly they’ve done it once in the other times they went to the neighboring towns, and when heat hadn’t been a problem as the leaves were turning brown and falling away, but why would they? Chanyeol watched a gang of bikers drive by as he gulped down his last few bites and mulled over the idea of saving up for one. Maybe then, Kyungsoo and he could leave or return to their hometown whenever they desired.
They continued to look around, eagerly seeking the stores and the sights that this town had to offer. There was not much but there was Kyungsoo, and they were in the next town over where nothing much had changed but that they were almost nameless in its sea.
There’s a light in Kyungsoo’s eyes, more livelier than usual, and Chanyeol immediately resolved to buy a motorbike in the future, perhaps when he’d landed himself a job. It should be one of the very first purchases to make once he’s no longer relying on his parents’ money. A scene played in his head; Chanyeol fighting the wind as he sped along a winding road, Kyungsoo wrapping his arms around his torso and laughing in glee, only the old trees as their witness. He watched Kyungsoo talk excitedly about coming back and watching a movie in the old rundown theater—”It’s Art Deco,” Chanyeol added, having become engrossed in a book on architecture when Kyungsoo had been too occupied with jotting down in his notebook earlier, “the architectural style, I think? For sure it is, if it was made when the Americans came. How old is it, anyway?” to which Kyungsoo only blinked and shrugged at, and as if the exchange was anything out of the ordinary, they giggled—and he let himself believe.
They didn"t let their legs rest until dusk when they finally decided to sit down on a dry patch of grass. By then, the central park was adequately populated by people and pets alike. It was a sunny Sunday after all. No one had minded them, these two boys preferring to sit together in a quiet area, and Chanyeol fought hard to ignore the nerves fraying just underneath his skin.
At some point, the street lamps lit up along with a few decorative lanterns and lights that draped Kyungsoo in a soft golden haze, complementing the rosiness of his cheeks. At some point, Chanyeol uttered something stupid that had Kyungsoo chuckling as he shoved him until he started laughing heartily. At some point, Chanyeol watched him throw his head back and clutch his stomach but he realized it was him who was left out of breath.
35 STARS
They found themselves at another cheap food stall yet this time, tables and seats were part of the accommodations. The pair then chose the one farthest from everyone as they took their time emptying their disposable containers.
"Don’t you wish to leave?"
Chanyeol paused. "I thought we agreed upon 8?"
Kyungsoo"s face soured. "No. I didn’t mean to leave now. I meant just… leaving. A vacation or something. Migration, maybe. A grander definition. Or an abstract one." Kyungsoo paused, and more softly, this time, “Do you want to come back now?”
“No,” Chanyeol frowned. “You know that, Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo stared at their table and shrugged, looking away.
After Chanyeol left Kyungsoo"s father bruised and limping—and Chanyeol was left by his own mother with a harsh earful and a punishment to kneel on rice for a half hour that he"d worked hard not to reveal to anyone—miraculously, his father hadn’t retaliated. Just bad mouthed Chanyeol and threatened his father, Kyungsoo had claimed. He wasn’t inclined to believe it but perhaps his mother and the church had something to do with it. Chanyeol wanted to roll his eyes at the thought and promptly felt guilt for this impulse. At the very least, Kyungsoo had no new bruises and had grown more relaxed. This, of course, didn"t make the house any better of a place. Chanyeol should have done it long ago.
“I should buy a bike,” Chanyeol blurted.
“Didn’t your dad have one?”
“No, a motorbike. I should buy a motorbike. I wouldn’t look as cool if I used a rusty old— rusty old velocipede.”
“Velocipede?” Kyungsoo snorted. “You sound silly. Who uses that w—”
Chanyeol slapped the table and pointed a wagging finger at Kyungsoo. “Exactly. Exactly what I’m saying. See? Who uses that?”
Kyungsoo laughed and shook his head. “Yes, I see.”
“Thank you for seeing.”
“It is my pleasure to see.”
At Kyungsoo’s deadpan, Chanyeol guffawed. Kyungsoo only rolled his eyes but a smile wormed its way back on his face.
"I meant,” Kyungsoo said, “if you could live elsewhere, where would it be?"
Chanyeol hummed. "Dunno. Maybe… Well, somewhere that is mine, for sure. Rent is terrible. Ideally by the beach? Maybe by the forest. Guess I should travel first and discover the world and whatnot. Like trying to hike mountains."
Kyungsoo mock-gasped. "You don"t even exercise. Your poor bones!"
"Hey! I do exercise. Just not everyday."
"You don’t need to lie to me, Chanyeollie."
"I’m not!"
"How come I never see?"
Chanyeol clicked his tongue. “Just because you don’t see it, that doesn’t make it any less true.”
Kyungsoo squinted his eyes and stroked his chin. “That is, indeed, a sound reasoning, dear fellow. You’ve convinced me with your logic. I shall name you the—mm, what’s the word…—recipient of ten of mine cows and a majestic stallion.”
He felt his nose flare as he tried stifling his laugh. “What is that?!”
“How rich pompous men talk in the old days. That’s my rendition. D’you like it?”
“It’s stupid,” Chanyeol laughed before he groaned and stifled it again. “Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, stop now. My stomach is too full for this.”
“Walking should help. Should we go?”
Chanyeol groaned. “Don"t wanna. Later.”
They settled into an easy silence as Kyungsoo reached to finish his drink. Chanyeol lingered on the idea of leaving permanently—where would he want to go? The last time he’d seriously considered it, he had been 14, watching the humble homes they’d passed by in the minivan when Sehun’s family gladly included the three of them in their vacation to the beach.
Chanyeol realized Kyungsoo hadn’t shared his. He looked at Kyungsoo but he thought the moment had passed; Kyungsoo was rocking his chair, head leaned back, seemingly taken by the endless dusk. Chanyeol looked up. A few stars blink at them in greeting.
“What about the stars?”
Chanyeol turned back to Kyungsoo. “What about the stars?”
“Remember? You said something about how… how they’re so far away that the lights we see are just remnants of what has long gone. Dead. Something about being that far.”
Chanyeol nodded slowly, shifting in his seat, unsure where it was going. Did Kyungsoo know what he’d meant then?
“It"s kinda poetic. You know, I looked it up too, you saying how we’re all made up of stardust. I thought you were bullshitting us with that. Certainly didn"t help that you were crying.”
Chanyeol spluttered. “Why would you bring that up?”
Kyungsoo watched Chanyeol, obviously amused. “But you were so adorable. Who knew you would bawl for the welfare of aliens? You weren"t even drunk or something.”
Chanyeol adamantly shook his head. “Whatever, whatever, ahhhhhhhhh, AHHHHHH, I hate you, Helium— no, Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, uh, Boron, what’s the next one, blah blah blah, shit, I don’t wanna hear you, one two three four—”
“Alright, alright, Doctor Park with ten PhD’s.” Kyungsoo laughed. Chanyeol just frowned at him.
“Although… you never answered, did you?” Chanyeol inquired. “What do you think? Is there life out there?”
“Must be,” was his immediate answer, “or you’d have wasted those tears.”
“Oh my God.”
“I’m kidding.” Kyungsoo laughed again and though it was heavenly, the burn in Chanyeol cheeks wasn"t worth it. Kyungsoo dodged the used tissue paper Chanyeol threw his way that only pitifully landed in the middle, with the wind lightly blowing Chanyeol’s direction. “But yeah, don’t need to look it up to think we can"t be the only ones. It would be a lonely universe.”
Chanyeol nodded in agreement and watched the clouds behind Kyungsoo, slowly disappearing behind the treeline. “Do you think they also question the existence of their species? I don"t think dogs can do that. But the birds might.”
"What"s your problem with birds?"
"They"re weird! They"re actually very sinister, they look like they can murder you or… or organize a plan to conquer the world. For all you know, the aliens watch us through their eyes."
“For all you know, I might actually be an alien. And you! No human has had your ears.”
“Thank you, I feel very insulted.”
“Don’t be. I like your ears.” Kyungsoo reached out and tugged. Chanyeol yelped and jumped in his seat.
“Stop that,” he groaned again, laying his hand on his full stomach. “Your sorry ass would be eating cement if it wasn’t for this.”
Kyungsoo only kept laughing. “Sorry, sorry. Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should we go to the pharmacist?”
Chanyeol wanted to laugh at and flush under Kyungsoo slowly transitioning from amusement to genuine concern. “Nah, don"t stress over it. The food’s too nice. Might just need to burp it out.”
“I’ll buy you soda,” he said and stood up. “All that carbon and stuff.”
Chanyeol watched him as he walked to the stall. Almost without prompting, he imagined coming home with Kyungsoo just to fall asleep together, limbs tangled up and safely under the covers.
They just started becoming more comfortable being friends again, with an undercurrent of something else that Chanyeol was certain wasn"t only visible from his side. Sometimes he"d catch Kyungsoo gazing at him with what seemed to be longing or feel his touch linger on his skin and Chanyeol could all but shudder with want. He could continue having him here, somewhere their actions were weightless and drenched in light, filtered through the lenses of pure friendship, but Chanyeol just ached and ached yet cowered at the mere idea of anyone else realizing what was odd about their bond.
Too soon, Kyungsoo marched back with empty hands. “Actually, you should buy it yourself.”
Chanyeol was left speechless as he gazed up at Kyungsoo incredulously, something halfway between a laugh and a scoff bubbling up his chest.
“You should walk. No good in just sitting down. Go on.”
Chanyeol groaned a bit too loudly and feigned weakness, pressing a palm to his heart, “OUCH, Kyungsoo, you just like seeing me suffer, right? That"s it, then? I should’ve known.” But with posture slightly bent, he relented and trudged to the stall. Kyungsoo would stay seated, grinning and having procured his own can of soda.
They walked a little more but with the day"s toll creeping up on them, they soon rode the packed bus and its long way home. Kyungsoo almost immediately slept against his shoulder. Chanyeol had had internal strife only to let his compulsions win and with eyes closed, he slowly laid his head on top of his.
They reached the bus stop home. Chanyeol raised the idea of Kyungsoo staying in his house again only for Kyungsoo to refuse, worried Chanyeol"s mother would treat him worse, what with having skipped another Sunday mass. It didn’t feel like a fair exchange but Chanyeol counted on Kyungsoo’s father never daring again and walked Kyungsoo to his house. He waited until Kyungsoo reached his room. Only when he drew his curtains and sleepily waved Chanyeol away did he move from his spot and began a slow walk home alone.
11 FALLING
The colder seasons had passed. The flowers should be blooming and the grass a lot greener but the town didn"t seem to acknowledge the laws of nature. The weather was rigidly cold, the trees stubbornly asleep, and Chanyeol couldn"t really blame them.
It had yet again been another uneventful Christmas but he had Kyungsoo, Sehun, and Jongin and so, there was nothing to complain about. The four friends had their annual exchange gift affair. This year he"d picked Jongin and bought him clothes with his favorite artists plastered in front while Sehun picked him and gave him expensive and sturdy headphones. He still made Kyungsoo a gift, a small one—a mixtape, a little clumsily put together—that he had no courage to hand over. Nevertheless it would find its way to its owner on his birthday less than three weeks later. Kyungsoo would insist they listen to it together but eventually, with Chanyeol’s distracting fidgeting, Chanyeol would be kicked out of his own room and receive a blinding smile later.
As spring arrived, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had grown closer but still neither dared to walk past the line of friendship. Jongin and Sehun no longer commented on their deal, especially not after Chanyeol weaponized the time he"d walked in on them making out and more in the laundry room. The three were similarly mortified, but Chanyeol, who"d entered Sehun"s home without telling him, had just realized it was the first obvious indication of their romance. They were skilled at hiding away, too calculated to have only been doing it in the recent years. Would Chanyeol be able to always sneak around and put on an act? Chanyeol refused to think about it any further. Kyungsoo and he would breach this topic once they arrived there.
He had also uttered a few more words to Dohyeon that weren"t an awkward ""Sup", an irresolute "Ahh… okay", or an evasive "I have to go", rather more like "I still have my copy of that exam. Do you need it?" which Kyungsoo had been tremendously pleased about. On the other hand, Sanghoon had grown bored of him and barely greeted Chanyeol even during the lab classes they shared. Perhaps there were problems at home as he took too many absences as well. From across the globe, through the wonders of internet connection, Chanyeol had befriended a 32-year-old guy—a game developer, how fascinating! Some grown-ups were delightful conversationalists, after all—who"d enthusiastically directed him to a site for music discovery and taught him how to navigate it, and it suddenly became a challenge to wrench Chanyeol away from the computer. His mother was also mostly in a decent mood while his father randomly fixed the bike and brought home an upgraded stereo and so, he had gone outside less during his days off from work. Saturdays became filled with the sound of smooth jazz.
It had been good, a bit too good, except maybe for Physics becoming more daunting, so of course things were bound to turn dreadful. There was nowhere else to go but down, and he felt this specific day was just the beginning.
Despite it being a weekday morning, Chanyeol found himself sitting in the field, the same one he frequented at the edge of the town. He didn"t make a habit of skipping classes, no more as the final examinations and project deadlines were closing in, but with Kyungsoo donning new bruises, he just had to pull him out of that place.
Once he"d finished, Chanyeol stashed away the bandages and antiseptic in his bag and sighed.
"Just rest for now, Kyungsoo. Fuck our classes."
Not without a slight wince, Kyungsoo inclined his head up at the endless gray stretching to the horizon. There were flashes of light and a few seconds later, the clouds rumbled lowly. "I don"t think I brought an umbrella."
"We"ll just run to the bus stop."
Kyungsoo grunted. "I don"t feel like running."
"I"ll carry you."
He snorted, not unkindly, but Chanyeol still frowned—pouted, even. "Sure, grandpa."
Kyungsoo maneuvered to lie himself down without straining his wounds much and Chanyeol rushed to assist. Once Kyungsoo had settled, he followed and lied beside him, head angled close to Kyungsoo"s. Side by side, they watched the almost imperceptible clouds rush.
Breathing in and out, he imagined the wind taking chunks of their worries away, touching the tips of the shaking grass just before disappearing.
"You should really stop endangering yourself for others," Chanyeol murmured. "Dohyeon, Jongin, Sehun, me. None of that."
He waited for a response but Kyungsoo gave none.
"You have to take care of yourself."
"You didn"t see how scared he was."
"Were they the same ones...?" Chanyeol turned to him and pointedly looked at his bruises. Kyungsoo didn"t move. "From before?"
"It’s always them."
Chanyeol heaved a sigh, frustrated at being unable to do anything. It wasn"t as if the faculty would budge if they reported the incident to a higher authority. There was one teacher who cared but Chanyeol supposed his hands were tied, only advising them to be careful. Still, it’s enough for him to feel a little bitter.
It didn"t help that Kyungsoo had a habit of prioritizing those he cared about. Like when Sehun lamented about missed homework and Kyungsoo came to help, scouring the library when he’d told Chanyeol once that what he hated about his job of organizing books was to read through them and help find what someone needed. Like when Jongin drove himself to sickness and Kyungsoo visited him daily, with notes from their shared classes and a bowl of hot soup despite the weird glances Jongin"s parents had been throwing him at the time. For Chanyeol, time and time again. He sighed once more, in defeat and understanding.
Minutes passed in relative silence. Chanyeol was picking at the grass between them when Kyungsoo reached for his hand, comparing them side by side. The sensation of his fingers flitting across his palm was nice and he continued to watch silently even as Kyungsoo slotted their fingers together, like a missing puzzle piece that fit.
Chanyeol felt his heart race in glee. Kyungsoo really wasn"t supposed to have done that, not since they agreed they weren"t ready, but perhaps Kyungsoo was slowly warming up to the idea. Either way, Chanyeol was simply greedy; he would take every little gift Kyungsoo would bestow him.
"Should I do a palm reading?"
"A what now?"
Kyungsoo withdrew his hand but shifted closer as he held up Chanyeol"s, tracing the lines on his palm.
“Oh, it"s much harder than I thought. I can"t pinpoint what shape your hand is.”
“Just the regular one.”
“But the lines,” Kyungsoo ignored Chanyeol’s quip. “Let"s see… I think this one," he pointed to a thick and deep line, "tells me you are set for bigger things."
Chanyeol smiled goofily. "Hm? What big things?"
This time, Kyungsoo glanced up at him and choked on a laugh. "You dirty-minded pervert!"
"Oi, don"t be calling me a dirty-minded pervert, you"re the one who decided I"m having weird thoughts! I only asked you what."
"Don"t think I’m stupid." Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and dropped both of their hands, still clasped together. "You ruined it. To hell with your palm reading."
There was a grin plastered across Chanyeol’s face that felt almost impossible to wipe away, like a premonition to an outright giggle that a simple hand squeeze with a thumb caress could draw out of him. Chanyeol felt silly. Could anyone get loopy from too much adoration? “Okay, okay, I"ll shut up and listen to you. Really. Where"d you pick this up anyway?”
“I read about it in the library. I dunno. I was bored. Oh, this line is about your interpersonal relationships. It says it’s… good.”
“That’s so… unhelpful.”
“Something about it being long and deep and stopping in the middle of your fingers…? Shit, I’ve forgotten everything. I swear I was able to read Hyejin. There were also mounds but I didn"t get to that part." Kyungsoo hummed in thought. "Oh, and there should be a line in the middle that is said to shift the most but I"m not sure what it is… Oh— Fate. It"s meant to be your fate. Our life path. Your right hand doesn"t have it but your left one does, and it"s short and narrow. Hm. Short and narrow means it"s unclear."
“I feel like at this point you"re just making it up.”
“Well, maybe. But this one, I’m sure of it,” Kyungsoo"s finger padded through it, “asks for a hand lotion.”
“Of course it"s dry, it’s cold! You"re one to talk.”
“I"m not one to talk when my palms are obviously much healthier,” Kyungsoo argued.
"Right, your hands have always been softer."
"Or yours have always been drier."
"You"re the palm reader so whatever you say."
“Idiot." Kyungsoo lightly hit his arm, smiling with a slight but fond shake of head before slotting their hands back together. Chanyeol stared at it, stomach fluttering at such development, feeling electrified by the second as his mind drifted and constructed a vivid image of their future. He wished time would stand still so he could revel in the welcomed crushing weight of hope and the warmth pressing against him.
It started pouring soon. They ran as the land slowly turned into slippery mud. They were quick enough for their feet to reach the pavement when the rain came down harder. Thankfully, they were under the roof of the bus stop within seconds but they were still fairly soaked. Kyungsoo laughed at their state before he cringed in pain, aggravating the wounds on his face. Chanyeol immediately fussed over him, asking if he should add medication with a hand already digging through his bag. Kyungsoo huffed and only pulled Chanyeol to sit.
It didn’t seem like the rain was going to let up soon. Chanyeol sank back further into the uncomfortable seats. Kyungsoo leaned his head on Chanyeol"s shoulder and Chanyeol didn’t hesitate to lay his head on his. No one was around and the evening bus definitely wouldn’t be arriving yet. Huddled together under Chanyeol"s jacket, they waited for the skies to calm while sharing body heat.
08 SEIGFRIED
It was a series of hectic weeks; exams were near as was the end of the year. Some students had altogether stopped going to classes. A few capable and more privileged kids spoke excitedly about leaving to pursue higher education. A boy from a working class family was rumored to have gained a full scholarship with stipend to one of the country’s top universities. Chanyeol genuinely wished the best for him but felt a pinch in his chest—he wasn’t going to be leaving, not anytime soon, and it wasn’t as if his family would support him. His mother expected him to immediately work to help support the three of them while his father couldn’t care less. The period for applications and entrance tests had also definitely gone so if he intended to, he must wait and for the time being, find a way to earn cash.
Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, meanwhile, continued to toy with their boundaries without much outright acknowledgement—steady and safe. It wasn"t exactly planned especially when the most pressing need was the exams but all the same, it was so no one could suspect anything.
And then, it happened.
Dohyeon was practically open about his sexuality and for the most part, the school officials ignored it. Much of the student body ignored him too as much as they ignored his preference for fellow boys, which was to say, if he was given a quick spotlight it was mostly for the purposes of finding something to laugh at or be outraged about as if he was just a character in a little story and not a living breathing individual who could hear exactly what they were saying. There had even been tales of Dohyeon meeting up with another boy from a neighboring town in cheap motels with all sorts of talk about what they might be doing but no one really did anything more than random pointed remarks and some boys needing their egos satiated.
Chanyeol was reading a novel during a spontaneous free class beside a sleeping Kyungsoo when the news of Dohyeon being expelled for "lascivious conduct" in school grounds reached the class. It had quickly spread like wildfire. To top it all, his partner had been among the group of seniors who liked to publicly humiliate and beat him up, particularly the one whose gaze was always cold and biting and always stood at the side, aloof and unmoving at every assault and had, at one point, accused Kyungsoo of bedding Dohyeon.
Surprisingly there were few who whispered about how unfortunate it was that the school wasn"t lenient, that they couldn"t even let both finish the year but they were mere whispers to the loud and widespread disgust and the sound of very concerned parents marching to the offices, threatening to pull out their children from the school if they wouldn’t act. It was enough to put Chanyeol off from absolutely anything as his trepidation came back with such ferocity.
To say that he was terrified was an understatement.
Kyungsoo, known as the other senior close to Dohyeon, got repeatedly threatened. Chanyeol, either having gained a little more spine or was simply powered up by paranoia, stood up against them and engaged in verbal assaults and a few brawls. He no longer minded his mother’s comments from the bruises he’d collected and buried himself in music and mathematics, of all things.
“What happened to you?” inquired a jovial Sanghoon, raising a hand to touch Chanyeol’s bruises. “Got beaten up? Or a new trend? Is it a new trend or something?”
Chanyeol flinched away and continued to disregard Sanghoon.
“Did you hear about Im Dohyeon? Of course, you did. Man, I told you so! Although, never would have guessed Kim Haneul was one of "em. Hard to tell the ones who aren’t the sissy, girly types, right? Hey, you don"t know anyone else who has secret queer inclinations, do you?”
His hands practically shook with anger. “You should fuck off before I bash your head against the sink, yeah?”
“Jesus Christ, brother, it’s not that serious!”
Chanyeol didn’t think he could stomach any further talk that even remotely alluded to it and decidedly walked away himself. If he stayed a few seconds more he feared he might get expelled too. With the likes of Sanghoon and the administration already frazzled, he should play it a lot safer.
Kyungsoo was, as expected, endlessly worried about Dohyeon. No one knew where he and his family had gone, nothing to explain the sudden desertion of the house by the oak tree with a broken fence.
Chanyeol couldn’t really put the younger boy’s welfare at the forefront of his mind when he’s plagued as it was by worries concerning him and Kyungsoo. His own father had even discussed with him how immoral it was for a boy to lay with another—his father, the parent who’d barely bat an eye in his direction. Though Sehun and Jongin had successfully hidden theirs for so long, he also feared for them.
He hadn’t prayed in so long, not assiduously. His neglected rosary finding its place within his fingers once more was almost an alien sensation, a little hot to touch, and he would whisper prayers every night he went to bed to sleep—if he even slept at all.
Prayers were supposed to be a conversation. Otherwise, it was a way to reclaim peace. Chanyeol found neither. The silence was agitating.
"Did you know?"
It was a Saturday afternoon spent in Chanyeol’s room upon his invitation to study together. The door was wide open and the window warned of the approaching night.
Kyungsoo turned to him from the notebooks he had obviously given up reading through.
"Dohyeon and that guy," Chanyeol clarified.
"No."
"Wasn"t he the one who…"
"Yeah."
"That day those assholes hurt you. It was the same guy who pointed you? That"s messed up."
"Dohyeon never knew about that."
Still messed up, Chanyeol wanted to say but chose to remain silent. He very much disliked that Dohyeon confirmed the negative presentiment from long ago, but perhaps Chanyeol was just being unfair and Dohyeon was simply a victim of circumstances.
He huffed and put away his own notes. He too had lost motivation to study. It all felt futile.
“We should just run away.”
Chanyeol glanced at Kyungsoo, a dour expression trained on the mess of papers and textbooks, and he snorted.
"Chanyeol. We could do it. Let"s move to the city."
Slowly tensing up, he stared at Kyungsoo. "Wait, you"re serious?"
"I am."
It took him a while until he could respond, and he started with a scoff. "Don"t be stupid, Kyungsoo."
"I"m not being stupid. We could do it. I have—"
“No. That"s… That"s reckless!”
“What"s reckless about that? We"d be graduates in a few, we"re practically of legal age.”
“Kyungsoo, you can"t be serious…”
“Come with me. We"ll just, you know, find a small cheap place and get ourselves a job. Maybe we can even go to a state university in a few years—”
"You"re being selfish."
"How…" Kyungsoo said, his voice turning sharper, "How am I being selfish?"
"You don"t seem to realize what you"re suggesting. You"re asking me to uproot everything to go off together and… Kyungsoo, we"re barely even 19!"
"Okay? It"s kind of the point. Leaving while we"re still young but old enough to be by our own. What exactly are you afraid of?"
"I’m not afraid of anything, I’m just trying not to be hysterical."
"Hyster— You"re not even willing to try? Hell, you"re not even willing to consider?"
"Yeah "cos when we run away, there will be a land where two boys can be together without anyone coming to wrench us apart to tell us how ungodly we are—and that"s if they"re being kind. God knows what they"d do to us. So, this whole running away and hoping we stumble upon the entrance to some promised land then we live happily ever after, the end—it"s selfish and stupid. You"d risk it all for a pipe dream."
"Do you think I’m such a fool? We"re not looking for a damn utopia—"
"I"m not, you mean."
"—we"re looking for a better place where we can live a little easier. Why are you being like this?"
"It"s no use. It"d be all the same. It might even be worse. C"mon, Kyungsoo, we have lives here. That—"
"And what life is that? What fucking life do you have here, Chanyeol? I certainly don"t have one. This place is horrible, our families hate our guts, the people don"t care at all—there"s nothing here! It"s just stagnant. It"s dead. I thought we both agreed that we"d like to leave it?!"
"When we"re, I don’t know, 25 but not 19 and penniless!"
"Well, take a bit from your parents or something! Just some money until we gets jobs."
"Jobs. Don"t you think you"re too hopeful? It"s likely it would just run out and then we"d starve and die in some piss-stench alley at the pitiful age of 19. See? It wouldn"t work."
"Except it might. We just have to carefully plan everything."
"I"m not leaving, Kyungsoo. I can"t leave. At least not yet."
"Is this about your mother—"
"Fuck off."
"Why not now, then? Why prolong your stay?"
"You know, you can leave by yourself. You"re not my fucking boyfriend."
Kyungsoo inhaled sharply.
A beat of silence. Chanyeol realized what he’d said and instantly regretted it.
“Are you… Is this you saying…”
“No, I—”
“What?”
Chanyeol sighed, and much weaker, said, "I don’t know. It might be best if we just," he shrugged, "stop whatever this is for now."
Kyungsoo remained quiet.
“Or not stop. Um. Just… Let’s not see each other for a while.”
Kyungsoo"s expression quickly morphed into disbelief and Chanyeol hurried to explain.
“While it"s not safe yet—”
“You said it yourself, it"s never been safe.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” Kyungsoo laughed humorlessly. “Unfortunately I do. God fucking dammit, what did I expect?"
“Kyungsoo, it"s not… I won"t…”
“Won"t leave me hanging? I"m not sure if I want to believe that yet, Chanyeol.”
He didn"t speak any further, not even as Kyungsoo watched him with searching yet guarded eyes, not even when Kyungsoo broke his gaze and slammed the door shut behind him.
Why Chanyeol didn"t speak, he wasn"t quite sure but he knew he should have—he knew he wanted to, but when Kyungsoo challenged him, he realized he never examined his devotion to Kyungsoo and to what extent terror had him in its clutches. Even as his heart sang a tune that promised to run back to Kyungsoo once everything tided over, he wasn"t sure. He merely wanted them to lie low, despite the fact that it had been himself who asked Kyungsoo to come over, but Kyungsoo had every right to have doubts and walk out on him. A small part of Chanyeol worried that these doubts were not unfounded, even if scrutinized from within their present time.
There was a voice at the back of his head; once, it had asked him to forsake his earthly desires and stay steadfast under the banner of holiness, but now it all but screamed and shouted for him to chase after Kyungsoo, to chant his apologies and his promises and invite him back to his room, to proclaim his faith not to the world nor the church but to him, to their little "us".
In the end, he was still a prisoner to his fears. Why did it feel like it was the end of all things?
22 WHO WOULD LEAVE THEIR SON OUT IN THE SUN?
Chanyeol was never certain what he felt about his mother. He wanted to be far away from her but when watching another mother regard her child with tenderness, he thought of her and felt like weeping. He loathed the idea of her arms around him but yearned for the kind understanding in her features directed at him. He wished she would stop working hard for him. Was there a less unthankful way of telling her he’d rather starve each day than regularly have food on the table, drenched in his mother’s bitterness? Chanyeol supposed she had nowhere else to store them away but inside her son, a slow poison in his veins.
He needed to leave. Kyungsoo was right. He"d resided in her shadow for too long.
There were days that would come when he"d second-guess all his hurt. Had he just been overreacting? Was he truly selfish? Perhaps that was just how she was nurtured—by a heavy hand, then told that it was to prime her to face the world, because they loved her—and he shouldn"t hold it against her. What did it mean when she would enter his room to leave him cut-up fruits, or buy him things he never asked for because she’d thought he would find a use for it or simply like it, or tell him about her day then ask him about his? She’s hard to love but much harder to hate. He wished she were more cruel to him. Maybe then he’d find it easier to run away.
He didn’t know what to do anymore. He"d argued against leaving and a part of him didn"t think he could survive without her like how she would wither quicker if he"d left. He should repay all that she did for him—she"d birthed him, clothed him, fed him, provided a roof over his head, but it had also been Kyungsoo who had told him that wasn"t basis for him to be tied down to her, that he wasn"t a retainer she"d personally grown as insurance for old age. Chanyeol didn"t really think of it that way, but it was possible that he"d just listened to her too much.
Should he resign to life to this gravity well? He wished he could talk to his mother about many things that plagued him but he knew she would have him locked up in the church’s basement as quickly as possible. He recalled being an eight-year-old, not much care in the world. He relived the hazy moments her touch must have been more tender, when she"d liked bringing him to her previous workplace and laugh at his antics. He didn’t know where it went wrong along the way. Maybe she should’ve raised him better.
They walked to the church in silence. It wasn"t tense yet it also wasn"t nice. There"s a new bakery that"s opened and it was near the church and included Sunday in its business days.
"Oh? Don"t you love those? Should we buy now or after the mass?"
Chanyeol looked upon his mother, a maelstrom of emotions wreaking havoc in his chest.
"The decor"s a bit tacky." She frowned at the floral curtains and the bright yellow paint. "Dear God. Wouldn"t be surprised if the pastries are no good, no?"
Eighteen years of being around her meant he had expected that comment. It didn’t hold much bite, rather, she said it like the two of them were a conniving pair of friends at the back of the room, plunged in a familiar back and forth of harmless gossip to pass time. She did that sometimes, mostly when work didn’t leave her rattled and weary, and he felt more guilt puncture his heart for having considered leaving her like the most ungrateful child there was. Maybe he could learn to love her and his mother, to love him better. Maybe there was still something to look forward to in this town.
"Doesn"t hurt to try," he responded after a hefty swallow of the lump in his throat. "They have a coffee bread. That might be good."
"Yes, but we"re running late. We"ll just have to come back later. Come, now."
Once at the church, Chanyeol found himself zoning out from the repetitive sermon yet unusually drawn to the wooden sculpture of a crucified son wailing at the sky, pondering how God must understand, and so, God would be merciful. If God was as all-loving as they said he were then surely He would not turn away even the most grave sinners if they were earnest. Else—if it were all a big lie and The Almighty was instead an overpowered self-serving entity—he’d rest easier at the knowledge of having disgraced Him, except no one really knew for sure. No one could know. That was the point of being a god, he supposed. Chanyeol would never know if anyone was listening but nevertheless he asked to receive a sign or a nudge into the right direction.
As the priest preached of turning away from temptations, Chanyeol prayed silently for wisdom.
“It’s outrageous. What has the children become?” Asked one of his mother’s friends.
“Perhaps it’s the television.”
“Or the internet,” another supplied.
Chanyeol followed them silently as they filed out of the doors after the service was concluded. They lingered just outside the old gates, discussing the state of the current youth and alluding to the supposed impending end of the world. Chanyeol could sympathize, but he could only pace nearby for so long before he grew impatient.
“Mom,” he called for her, “I’ll go home now.”
"Are you not buying bread anymore?"
Chanyeol paused. "Is it okay?"
"Buy some for me and your father too. Get the ones with nuts," she advised while opening her wallet up and fishing for a few wads of cash.
The others continued to chatter, burrowing themselves in a heated discussion about evil entities recently coming to town as proven by supposed sightings and odd diabolic phenomena. Chanyeol as quick as he could muttered his thanks and walked away.
68 SORRY
It was a cool Friday evening in a newly opened, poshly decorated cafe. Exams had just finished hours prior and it was coming close to a week since Chanyeol had last talked to Kyungsoo. Jongin and Sehun had started pestering him to share what had happened, evidently worried at their two friends and knowing which of them both was easier to pry open. They dragged him to one of their favorite secretly-a-date sites. Chanyeol wondered who would bring their friend to a romantic place just to question him? Sehun and Jongin, that were who.
"What happened this time?"
"Shit."
"Really."
"I… He told us we should run away."
"Oh… What did you say?"
Chanyeol eyed Sehun. "You don"t seem too surprised…"
“We"ve known for a while,” Jongin answered, “but we assumed you knew now with your whole thing going on.”
“What happened?”
“I can"t leave. I told him that.”
“But why?” Jongin asked, bewildered. “I thought you wanted to?”
Chanyeol scrambled his head to find a definite answer. “Well, I do, but— Not— Fuck, I can"t have this conversation again. Please. Just let me enjoy my overpriced food in peace.”
“And you never would have had this overpriced food if it wasn’t for me,” he responded back. “I didn’t give it to you for free, you know? Spill.”
“Fuck you,” he quipped without any bite, then sighed. “I mean, there’s nothing much to say. He wants to leave, I don’t think it’s wise, we’re both scared shitless. Of course an argument would break.”
Jongin had a concerned look, vacantly trained at the table. By his side, Sehun sighed heavily.
“You both need to fix this. Quick.” Sehun leaned closer, mindful of the cups on the table. “Kyungsoo"s been wanting to do this, you know? Planning, is the better word. Oh, wait… whatever, wanting and planning. Both. And he might have expected you to say yes. We also did. Apparently you never even knew about it all this time and that’s really stupid on Kyungsoo’s part.”
“Shit, he"s been planning it all this time right? D"you think he"d leave by himself? Because Chanyeol said no and now they broke up.”
"What the hell?"
"I mean, they didn"t really break up considering they were never... Am I being an asshole right now?"
"Yeah, you are."
"Ah, I"m sorry, Chanyeol. I"m sure you and Kyungsoo will fix this. You were always damn inseparable, you can’t let it all go bad now!”
"But I," Chanyeol groaned, "I told him we weren"t together anyway so he could leave by himself."
The two stared at him then faced each other, taking to muttering about their two particularly idiot friends.
The conversations veered away from Kyungsoo but by the end, they made Chanyeol promise to talk to Kyungsoo. “If there"s anything I believe more than Tiger Balm," Sehun declared, "it"s you and Kyungsoo. I believe in you both."
Chanyeol could never give up on Kyungsoo no matter how much of a coward he was, he realized. Rationally, he knew he should act more like it. All that it took was a simple decision to choose Kyungsoo but Chanyeol still struggled. After all, one option was vastly different from the other and he couldn’t just figure it out along the way. Leaving was surely easy but what of the uncertainty of what would come after? Much safer then would be to stay, but Kyungsoo desired to leave and he didn"t think he could muster the courage of leaving without Kyungsoo by his side. In the first place, it felt like he shouldn’t be making such definitive decisions in his youth, except it’s his last year as a teen, high school was ending, and Kyungsoo was ready to leave. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he might be walking into a future without his best friend—his lover—by his side.
His lover. Kyungsoo was his lover. It filled him with so much warmth and ache. Someone out there cared for him; the thought sent Chanyeol down a spiraling path and he wondered, what if he’d done it years ago? He didn’t know how long Kyungsoo had loved him for but if it was anything like with Chanyeol then it must’ve been always, their love for each other growing along with them. He thought it all would be easier if he’d just gone through with it, then perished the thought just as quickly as it came.
He’s desperate but he doesn’t know how to approach and talk to Kyungsoo without it derailing into an argument once again. On one hand, he was also aggrieved that Kyungsoo was willing to leave him here by himself. Assuming Sehun and Jongin were right, shouldn’t they have talked it out first?
The second Friday evening came with fraying nerves that came with being two weeks without Kyungsoo. Sanghoon found him staring at the alcohol section of the supermarket, out on a late-night errand but distracted by the memories of the burn on his throat before haziness.
Sanghoon snuck up on him, bearing a zealous invitation to yet another party. “To celebrate the end of high school,” he’d exclaimed. Technically, there were still some classes but barely anyone paid them mind. Chanyeol ended up agreeing. He was feeling particularly lonely.
"Thought you got tired of me," slurred Chanyeol the following night, lounging on a sofa in one of the private rooms of the mansion"s upper floors.
"Get tired of you? Pray tell what made you think so, dear friend?"
"You"re being weird."
"Pfft, I’ve always been like this," chimed Sanghoon before he chugged straight from the bottle and continued pacing the room. "You’re the one being weird."
Chanyeol only grumbled before raising his cup for yet another sip. He felt much of his upper body cringe, still unused to the drink. His throat protested at the horrid tang yet he couldn’t stop. Supposing that no one drank alcohol for its famous taste, he was probably doing just fine.
"What happened to your shadow?"
"What d’ya mean?"
"Do Kyungsoo."
"Huh?"
"Do Kyungsoo. Your shadow. I often see him with you but this week it"s just, poof! Did you have a lovers’ quarrel?
"Don"t—" Chanyeol sat up immediately and felt his vision blur. "Don"t mention his name. "re not talking "bout "im tonight."
"Oh, it’s a touchy subject! Okay! Duly noted! Oh, I know what would help you. Eat these nice brownies."
Chanyeol laughed at the sight of unwrapped food being procured from an expensive looking trousers. Why Sanghoon had it there, he didn"t care to think. He vaguely mused why Sanghoon wore those trousers, and then reasoned out that he"s wealthy. Oddly, he only now questioned why Sanghoon brought him up to his rooms and was just talking to him. What the hell was that? But first things, first; "Brownies? ‘Tsn’t drugged, is it?" He accepted it into his hands.
"That’d be too obvious. If I were to drug you, it would have been in your first cup."
There was another hint of green on his eyes. He"d seen it before, particularly the night he had urged Chanyeol to drink alcohol for the first time. Now he was drinking it of his own volition and was possibly about to take in illegal substances.
Chanyeol all but hastily stood and threw it at the carpeted floor—or what he supposed was the carpeted floor for he had grown dizzy and lost his vision momentarily. "Fuck, man, are you serious? I don"t go there. Fucking shit, what the hell!"
"Kidding. I’m kidding! Bro, can’t we joke around anymore?" Sanghoon rolled his eyes and pushed Chanyeol back to the plush seat. "Calm down. You just wasted a perfectly good brownie."
Chanyeol glared at Sanghoon but stayed put, then looked around for his cup. He found it spilled on the floor as well.
His mind drifted to a memory. It was the summer before the start of the school year. Kyungsoo had been looking for something and was starting to be frustrated, Chanyeol waited nearby but spilled his drink on Kyungsoo"s newly washed rug. Kyungsoo had scowled and Chanyeol immediately promised to clean it. Kyungsoo seemed to have felt bad while still a little disgruntled as he insisted he"d do it himself but Chanyeol kept relenting and it was growing into an argument, until Chanyeol suggested, "We should just do it together."
“Over one rug? I can do it. Don’t touch it.”
“I was already offering to do it.”
“And I said no. Stop insisting.”
“But it"s my fault.”
“Well, I absolve you of your sins or whatever. Let it go, Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol had stilled and stared at Kyungsoo, left mostly unaware of everything else but his continued search. He didn"t know why he reacted that way. The statement had passed quickly as an electric shock but Chanyeol had found himself mulling over it as Kyungsoo finally found his object and went to clean his rug.
Sanghoon was staring at the framed pictures as if it wasn"t his own family when Chanyeol said, ""ngsoo"s leaving."
"I"m sorry?"
"Kyungsoo. He"s leaving."
"I thought you said we"re not talking about him."
"He"s leaving me," he continued. "All alone. Fuck, y’think I’ll survive that?"
Sanghoon paused in his steps but continued facing the pictures.
"Shit. You don"t think we"re a thing, do you? "Cos we"re not. We"re not boyfriends. He"s not my boyfriend so of course he could fucking leave.
"I mean, why d"s he wanna leave? His father"s less horrible, he could, y"know, work a few more years "round here and wait for me. Or something. Not just, ffffffuck off out’f here and leave me alone. I can"t… He"s always been by my side. You said it y"rself. But also, I get it, y’know? I get it. I should just, uhh, let him go "n shit. Bet he"d be much happier. Oh, man, I just realized how... how much of a selfish coward I am. Should be happy for "im that"s he"s leavin", no?"
There was a stretching silence before he heard a hum from the other end of the room.
“Wha"z ‘at mean?”
“Nothing, nothing, just…” Sanghoon turned, with an uncharacteristic solemnity in his expression, “reminded me of a few things. A few old friends, rather. It has made me a bit nostalgic.”
Chanyeol huffed. “What, they run away together?”
“They did.”
Chanyeol stared at the empty fireplace. “Oh…” And then, a few beats later, he asked, “Are they happy?”
“I would like to believe so.”
“Hm,” he breathed out, unsure of what to make of the conversation and a dignified Sanghoon, and then burped. “Fuck, why"s this shit always so nasty? What about those things with fun colors and frilly li"l umbrellas? Bet they’re better.”
It’s weird. The night was weird. Sanghoon was weird with his eyes, relatively softer but stern. It could be the alcohol talking but he could almost liken it to the eyes of the town priest in the photos of his youth before, as the stories went, he became jaded. The only reason Chanyeol knew of that damn picture was his mother’s gossip circle, but it was similarly weird that he made such a connection. Sanghoon seemed to also stand taller, but under his inebriation, even the lamp on the bedside table was reaching for the ceiling. “Not necessarily," he answered, bereft of the bite his words usually held. “Come, you"ve had enough. I"ll take you home.”
“Take me home, y’say?” Chanyeol giggled as he was hefted up, gently. “Fuck, I thought y" don"t swing that way, man. Take me to a date first.”
From then on, it was nothing but darkness, feeling as if his soul was slowly being siphoned out. He resurfaced only once—to realize he"s in his room and to feel Kyungsoo slipping from his fingers. He’s not sure if it’s just a dream.