song as old as rhyme

 

if chanyeol is to count the number of days he’d spent hunched over his guitar, he’d probably go insane remembering the hours of being stuck with too blank pages of his notebook as he pulls on a few strings of his well-loved instrument.

 

baekhyun encourages him to go out for a drink, come with, park chanyeol, the great outdoors await, but chanyeol wholeheartedly declines because his brain functions way less when he’s intoxicated. and it’s just ten ing a.m. besides, sehun will probably take you up on the offer. the flush on baekhyun’s cheeks almost makes him choke on his coffee, but as if it’s the first time his roommate has been rendered speechless at the mention of his boyfriend’s best friend’s name.

 

(chanyeol almost forgets how so incredibly smitten baekhyun really is when it comes to sehun. it’s true love, chanyeol, baekhyun would claim, and chanyeol would actually believe him because those disgustingly googly-oogly eyes are all too familiar, to be very honest.)

 

‘go,’ chanyeol flails dramatically, falling atop a squirming baekhyun. ‘leave me for your noodle prince!’

 

‘don’t mind if i do,’ comes the reply, and the excitement radiates off of baekhyun so contagiously that chanyeol mechanically pulls out his phone to give jongin a call, oblivious to baekhyun’s pushes and protests and opinions on what outfit to wear, what pick-up lines to say.

 

‘hello?’

 

the moment jongin answers, chanyeol’s smile is magnanimous and bright. ‘hey there. did i wake you?’

 

‘mm-hmm, it’s okay,’ jongin croaks, sleep heavy in his voice and the adorability makes chanyeol bite his lower lip and squint his eyes. talk about smitten. ‘what’s up?’

 

‘nothing,’ by now, chanyeol has his thumbnail chewed off, nervousness still a common trait when it comes to jongin. one would think chanyeol had been over this phase—the anxiety, the irregular heartbeats, the clammy hands and the stuttering—but not him. maybe not ever. ‘uhmm. do you want to maybe, you know, come over? we can watch “house of cards” or play video games or... or something.’

 

screw songwriting, chanyeol figures forlornly, tracing the tips of his fingers along the jagged guitar strings. jongin chuckles, croakiness replaced with the pleasing sound of a smile. ‘i’ll be there in twenty.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the first thing chanyeol does when jongin steps into the apartment is to tackle him with a blanket, laughing too loudly as he wraps the younger man like a burrito and kissing his face senseless because i missed you, i missed you, i missed you.

 

jongin almost couldn’t breathe from laughing himself, ‘you saw me yesterday, hyung!’ but he doesn’t protest to chanyeol’s kisses, even as he is carried over chanyeol’s shoulder like a sack of rice to the small living room, dropping unceremoniously to the sofa with a light bounce and a soft thud. chanyeol crawls on top of him with a devious grin.

 

‘i missed you, still,’ chanyeol whispers on the curve of jongin’s shoulder, kisses fleeting and quiet on warm, tanned skin. ‘what ever would i be without you?’

 

‘a lost lamb,’ jongin chuckles, still very much immobile and amused. ‘a lone wolf. an awkward giraffe.’

 

‘what about,’ chanyeol slowly unwraps jongin, rolling the blanket off ever so slowly until his fingers slip under jongin’s white shirt to tease. ‘merely being half the man i ought to be?'

 

jongin's breath hitches as long, slender fingers run along the plains of his chest, down to the slope of his hips and the curves of his waist. 'you are the cheesiest , park chanyeol.'

 

'i'm a songwriter, it's what i do!' chanyeol huffs, settling himself in the space between his boyfriend and the back of the sofa, pulling jongin closer against him by the waist to keep him from falling. jongin faces him with a steady, observant gaze, noticing the slight frown on chanyeol's lips as he traces a thumb across the taller man's cheekbone.

 

in the gentlest of voices, jongin asks, 'you haven't been able to write, have you?'

 

‘no,’ chanyeol sighs, defeat in the tone of his voice. he plays with jongin’s fingers like a lost child. 'i mean, i've been spending an ample amount of time outside—observing things, watching people. i’ve even tried feeding pigeons, jongin, and i’m deathly afraid of them. i’ve retraced my steps, listened to music, but i’m still stuck.’

 

chanyeol ends with a pout, and it stays even after jongin brings their foreheads together. ‘have you tried anything new?’

 

chanyeol puts a distance between them, a bit shocked as he looks at jongin as if he’d suddenly grown two heads. ‘what’d you mean?’

 

‘maybe it’s about time you make your own inspiration, rather than finding it from something or someplace else.’

 

chanyeol pauses to think, taking in the slope of jongin’s jaw and the mild droop of his eyelids. ‘hmm, you know what,’ chanyeol says after a while, nuzzling his nose against the shorter man’s hair. he smells like apples and sunshine. ‘not only are you my other half, but my very efficient, very wonderful mentor, as well.’

 

‘thanks, but,’ jongin yawns and snuggles in closer, delving in the familiar warmth emanating from chanyeol’s body. ‘this mentor needs to sleep a bit more.’

 

chanyeol kisses the crown of his boyfriend’s head, whispering a thank you and an i love you lost in the stillness of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it is the quietness, the soft howl of the wind from his window that coaxes chanyeol awake.

 

he opens his eyes to the gentle glare of the midday sun caught in jongin’s lashes, in the curves of his cheeks, the fullness of his lips. jongin almost looks golden, ethereal, under the sunlight as chanyeol takes in the rhythm of his boyfriend's breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest with every exhale, the twitch on his lips at the softest touch of a kiss on his eyelids.

 

it is in the beauty of jongin’s existence that chanyeol finds his words, his songs, the poetic flow of his thoughts and his feelings spilling onto sheets upon sheets of paper. jongin is constant and everlasting, the pleasant stirrings in chanyeol’s chest, the perpetual tug on his heartstrings. it is precisely at that very moment, while jongin lies deep in slumber as he dreams, that chanyeol finds what he is looking for.

 

how could he have looked elsewhere, when it’s been right in front of him all along?

 

carefully, he breaks free from jongin’s grasp, down to the mess of papers on the floor. his guitar sits quietly still against the wall, seemingly awaiting his return. he looks at jongin, eyes fiery with fondness, and with a brush of his lips on jongin’s knuckles, he begins to write.

 

 

 

there’s a light in the room from where he lies,

and a kiss from parted lips i’ve stolen;

there he is, in slumber and in dream,

with hushed whispers of his name i’ve spoken.