four years down the treacherous road with sharp gravels digging into their bare soles and kyugsoo's feet isn't smooth and free of scars, isn't the way it had been before. the grazes he collected during the umpteenth times he fell roughens its way to the edges of his heart and scrapes the fragile innocence away. kyungsoo's eyes begin to carry mellow mocking at the way he used to think of conquering the world with music and - exo - as he continues down the road. he's seen their bright eyes and enthusiastic smiles on the glittery, perfect surface but he realises as he starts himself on the road, it's not so perfect when your soles develop dents to fit gravels after all.

jongin perhaps has it tougher, as the golden boy of sm entertainment. when kyungsoo first sees him, without the lights and glamour, he doesn't notice the way he's already fallen and the way he's still falling, only greets him with his blithe smile of oblivion and "nice to meet you, i'm do kyungsoo." there is weariness hanging heavy in shades of grey under jongin's eyes when he replies "hey" and kyungsoo's first impression of him was neither zombie or corpse, but rather, sleepy-looking.

they meet the first time in the practise room where jongin's struggling away from monster tired, where every mirror is a glaring reflection of jongin's moves they question his turnout and pointe and how his moves aren't ever sharpsmoothgood enough. then there's the metaphorical mirrors which compares and become more concrete with verbal confirmation - an introduction of "he's the best in our class" to a boy younger than him in a summer ballet intensive.

perhaps jongin never won the crap life shoved in his face but he still pushes on despite being at the losing end of the spectrum. it is only when jongin collapses from an unbearable hip sprain, an injury he's developed from all the moves he's supposed to execute with precise perfection - that kyungsoo finally realises how much everyone's still willing to pay at the losing end of the spectrum.

when it was announced that jongin would be with kyungsoo in the new boy band sm's forming, jongin searches for kyungsoo first thing and engulfs him into a hug. kyungsoo has a look of blank on his face, absolutely stunned of words. he wraps his arms stiffly back around jongin's and maybe they haven't known for long - only the tireless number of sweaty practices they share together since kyungsoo entered sm - but it's the first time the thought of how nicely they fit together cross kyungsoo's mind.

it's not the kind of thing which kyungsoo would have openly admitted but jongin might have grown into him the way he had grown into jongin, a little more than he would have been comfortable with. kyungsoo didn't notice when it started but jongin's always found waiting outside the recording studio with a bottle of water in hand. he's always early, in time to catch kyungsoo finishing the last note striving for perfection coming out with throat sore and raw. "thank you," he'd say gratefully, voice hoarse as he unscrews the bottle cap and brush the way jongin's gaze linger onto him a second too long away.

but when jongin collapses due to fever and misses waiting for kyungsoo's vocal trainings to end with his bright smile for the first time, kyungsoo's throat burns. he walks around looking for a vending machine and mineral water. in the end, he buys an ice pack from a convenience shop somewhere near and heads back to their dorm for jongin. upon entering their shared dorm, kyungsoo's thoughts wanders itself off to the severity of jongin's fever and how much fatigue can dim his smile at this rate of - kyungsoo kills the thought of pale faces and sunken eyes immediately. though, it seemed to settle right with him to pass jongin and ice pack all the same. he is in absolute denial with himself though, that creases on his forehead are caused by worry for the boy as he holds his breath and he twists the doorknob open. he isn't worried, it's just showing concern for a sick teammate.

the thought and denials kind of fly out of the window when an unmade bed - white linen sheets crumpled and a pillow on the ground - greets him. the room was stuffy with windows shut and the musty smell of jongin's shampoo lingers from the connected bathroom. jongin was supposed to be resting when given the chance, so kyungsoo isn't in the least amused when he finds the whole room- dorm empty without a soul to be seen. kyungsoo dials for jongin first thing and curses under his breath "idiot" when he doesn't pick up. he calls for sehun next, half expecting him to have muted his phone for practise and not hear it ringing over loud dance music. a puff of relief does leave kyungsoo's and ease the tension grappling his body.

"sehun. is jongin practising with you?"

"he went back to our dorm around 20 minutes ago. what's the matter?"

kyungsoo bites back his urge to shout at sehun for being an ignorant brat across the line, "he's sick, he's not supposed to turn up for practices."

"i noticed, that's why i got him to go back- "

kyungsoo hangs up on sehun, having difficulty in swallowing his raving of "he is a sick person how could you just let him wander off like that". the anxiety's driving him insane like little ants crawling about throughout his body because if jongin's supposed to be resting in the dorm, where the hell is he? jongin's sick and roaming around like what a person with a high fever is not supposed to be doing. what if he faints in the middle of the corridor and no one ever notices? what if he gets lost because he can't think straight? what if he got abducted- kyungsoo cuts his worrying thoughts off which is trailing off to illogical and tries to maintain his composure. he tells himself to imagine himself as jongin and asks where he would have gone twenty minutes ago, when sehun sends him away and he feels warm and sweaty- oh

his vocal practice ended around that time.

except that he was released 10 minutes early that day and jongin probably had not been aware of the time changes. not even taking time to mutter another curse under his breath, he takes off at an inhumane speed - wind loud and howling in his ears, hair out of eyes and people places passing in a whizz of noncommittal colours - towards the building, where his vocal lessons were held.

he finds the boy seated on the ground beside the long benches outside the room, fingers loosely grasped around a bottle of mineral water with knees tucked in to his chest. he looks inexplicably worn out and kyungsoo notices how the curves of the cheekbones are protruding against the skin of his face, weariness shrouds his entire being as his eyelids gradually droop to cover red, blown eyes. his back hunches over and his shoulders fold in. as jongin's eyes close and his head falls gently, collapsing against the edges of the hard plastic bench. the hold on the plastic bottle loosens, kyungsoo then feels Something. it's not exactly worry, concern, not exactly anything he's used to. perhaps his feeling of guilt increases along with Something, though, he can't stop his urge to pick up the toppled plastic bottle which lies stagnant on the ground, like the way jongin's lights went out - almost falling and then down.

that day, he slots himself between jongin and the bench with an icepack pressured to jongin's forehead instead, since he very well doesn't have the strength to carry jongin back to the dorm, he doesn't like the idea of other members carrying him (for an inexplicable reason) and he thinks jongin would have preferred his shoulders to the bench anyway. kyungsoo notices the way jongin's eyeballs roll under his eyelids in his sleep, the way he snuggles closer into kyungsoo with a soft whimper in his curled up position, the way drawing circles on his back helps to smoother out the occasional frowns marring his forehead, and the way his long lashes extends the way a hint of grey eyeshadow is light on his eyelids the way determination is softened and melted into his sharp features the way the light glints off the lip gloss on his plush lips the way his face glows in his original form - innocent, free from the shackles of camera flashes and caked make up. it make his sleeping form look ethereal - beautifully crumbled.

maybe Something felt like the pain when a piece of his heart gets torn apart at jongin's disintegrated state - his dark locks of hair which falls and mats his forehead along with a thin sheen of sweat and his determination to be the best still buzzing at the tips of his fingers. kyungsoo realises how hard jongin tries. admits begrudgingly how the younger has wormed his way into his heart and settled there with his sincere smile.

they soon grow into their ever-changing hairstyles, ever-changing clothes, ever-changing schedules but as a piece of polaroid from their debut days fall out of kyungsoo's wallet, he realises that he can't exactly get used to how he's seeing the practised smile plastered on jongin's face, nowadays no matter how long it's actually been. kyungsoo can't exactly remember the last time he's seen the smile in the polaroid playing on jongn's lips and he wonders if it might - like the colours and contrast in the polaroid - be fading.

he's seen the scars left by jongin's falls, how the gravels tear his shin his knees and leave barely any part unmarked. it's always been bloody, red flowing out and then hardening into scabs which jongin picks at despite the constant preaching of kyungsoo's "don't do that". there isn't spike in his words, perhaps that's the reason why they keep picking at scabs anyway. kyungsoo derives this form of masochistic pleasure from the prick of pain himself and he forms this theory where the scars are reminders of failures, how they probably are almost completely dependant on the constant, ringing reminders in order to rise up.

but then again, kyungsoo should have been desensitised at the rate of scraping and falling and the refusal to back down.

he doesn't though. he doesn't stop flinching every time jongin's on the verge of collapsing - heavier and more pressure along with rising popularity and buckets slung around his shoulders and filling to the brim with hopes and expectations. when jongin collapses, the buckets tied to his shoulders topple over along and with them goes the hope and expectations and pressure. they lie on the gritty ground in a huge puddle of disappointment and jongin hopes it could just dissolve into the grit as if nothing ever happened. they don't.

kyungsoo does, however, learn to shut in jongin's thoughts of giving up with languid kisses of "it's fine, pick yourself up and fill the buckets again," despite multiple reminders that they are only humans, no part machine.

jongin's smile doesn't come returning anymore, especially when kyungsoo's the one having to keep him together through the tight hugs in sleep, arms and legs clinging around him and desperately, desperately not allowing his remains to slip away. it's funny how he's it's not that much of interweaving as it is of entwining. it's funny how kyungsoo doesn't mind being the one to cushion jongin's fall even if it means a few more bruises than he rightfully deserves. he probably finally realises how tiring it is to keep your face muscles stuck in that position - blinding teeth, blinding smile. so blinding that you don't see whatever's truly left of them in the eyes. jongin's the one who had to adapt himself to this since young, why can't kyungsoo?



"kyungsoo, you're drunk. let's go back, we still have dance practice." jongin tries to wriggle himself out of kyungsoo's strong grip - how did such a tiny person even get such a strength? he dwells as the older tugs him up the stairs relentlessly.

"i'm not!" kyungsoo gurgles, before bursting into joyous laughter as he waves the bag of canned beer in his hands haphazardly. they are heading towards the sm buildings roof, with kyungsoo's pale complexion flushed pink with traces alcohol straying into his mind. everything's slightly fuzzy but kyungsoo thinks it's probably the way it's always been - vague and unclear. the contracts the photoshoots the dance the song - the meaning of all those crap he endured is unclear. the reason why he wanted to begin this route in the first place now was too - unclear. (or maybe he just doesn't want to think right then. he's drunk and drunk people should not be thinking. that's the point of beer.)

"kyungsoo- hyung. stop fooling around. we'll get into trouble." jongin tries to make his point but staying stiff, making it difficult for kyungsoo to drag him along despite his tight grip.

"but," kyungsoo pauses for a moment to look at jongin. at the mischievous glint still bright and burning in his eyes, jongin knows whatever plan kyungsoo's have in his mind is unstoppable, it's much like during the trainee days when they were supposed to diet but kyungsoo has a sudden craving for delicious, juicy, pork belly. "it's our birthday," kyungsoo adds with a pout, "we didn't even have cake for yours yesterday."

kyungsoo then proceeds to drag jongin up, disregarding jongin's futile protests of "but the dance practice…" if jongin were to be honest with himself, he does feel little pricks for not celebrating his birthday, he doesn't want just performances onstage and the cheers of fans, he wants his family, but even that was considered too much to ask for.

they could go for the stupid dance practice anytime soon, kyungsoo thinks, they've been practicing so much that they're even dancing in their sleep- "is that not enough?" that managed to shut jongin up and get him to allow himself to get dragged reluctantly. the moment kyungsoo unlock the gates (with the key kyungsoo had stolen) to the roof, kyungsoo loosens his grip on jongin and heads towards the edge of the building, running and feeling the wind tug his hair like never before. it's been long since he's felt this - free. jongin merely stands at the position where kyungsoo's left him, looking at the way the older throws his hands up and laughs with the swoosh of the wind in his face,

he stands debating whether or not it's a good idea to learn from his drunk hyung before kyungsoo's hands finds his way back to his wrists again and pulls him along. jongin gets tugged along and he looks at the way the kyungsoo's hair is in a disarray and how free he looked despite the silent shrill voices of their make-up artists deeming it as incorrigible. and as kyungsoo pulls him along, they twirl. they do pirouettes and pivots and don't stop until jongin's more out of breath than he's ever been, until he's drunk on the heart-shape of kyungsoo's smile and the crinkle of his eyes into the miniature canyons of happy and the scrunches of his nose and voices are finally at ease in his head.

jongin then realises how he loves how kyungsoo had the taste of being wild and free. he loves how he's such a whirr that everything spins just to keep up and he thinks that's probably why his room's always in a mess even though he claims to like things neat and tidy.

"shut up." kyungsoo says with a bright smile as he leans in, tiptoes slightly and plants a chaste kiss on jongin's lips, leaving behind the hint of bitter alcohol and intoxicated giggles. "your thoughts are too loud."

jongin decides that he likes this too - the way their chests rise and fall in perfect synchronisation and the way the artificial city lights illuminate the sky and the way everything whirls into a mess of upside down and round and round for a while. he chuckles, fingers running through the strands of kyungsoo's dyed red hair and pulling the shorter in for another kiss. "seoul's beautiful like that," he comments as he wraps an arm around kyungsoo and look at the different lights reflected in kyungsoo's dark orbs.

kyungsoo sighs and buries his head into jongin's chest, something he never realised he missed doing, before suddenly perking back up, a bright smile adorning his face "i forgot. i brought blankets." he proceeds to tug jongin, who gladly follows along this time with his steps light and head light to the little nest kyungsoo's formed with the blanket. they are both dizzy from the mixture of they don't know what, the cans of beer aren't even open yet, freedom, perhaps. when kyungsoo pushes jongin down and straddles him, he kisses him hard bites gently on his dry-cracked bottom lips, nibbles his earlobes and tells him how much he's missed jongin, missed this.

jongin laughs squirms because it's ticklish and he catches kyungsoo pouting because "it was supposed to be sensual." he points out with a faked pout.

he ruffles kyungsoo's hair lovingly as a sort of half-hearted apology, kyungsoo's cute - he never quite forgot how much he liked the silky smooth texture and lemon mint scented shampoo. he then pulls the said male down and buries his nose in his hair, inhaling his scent before kyungsoo rolls himself off, "i know i smell nice, but you're being creepy."

they try to point out stars, with kyungsoo tucked safely beside jongin when his arms wrap around the smaller male, even though it's not quite possible with the artificial city lights too bright. but they figured that perhaps they could laugh and kiss and let the electricity buzz through their beings for this moment. think about how they could plot to cut down the entire electricity of the city lights just so they could see the stars. and with intertwined fingers and compiled heartbeats, they let go,

forgetting about the world they left beneath them.



-end-



a/n:

- being an idol is tough :ccc