Chapter Two

Au Revoir (Kim Jongin x Reader; REVISING)

The rest of the class passes in a blur, your thoughts everywhere than where they should be. Sera keeps glancing over at you, as if she’s trying to pick your mind. 

“Don’t be nervous,” she eventually says, reaching over to pat your hand reassuringly, as if you’re imagining all the ways tonight could go wrong. “You’ve been together so long and known each other even longer, there’s nothing to worry about.” 

But it’s not really worry about the future of your relationship that’s gripping you by the coattails here, it’s an apprehension of how you’re going to be able to hold off what the night will progress into, and if you convincingly do that, what you’re going to do if you return home and the house isn’t as empty as you left it.

He promised that it wouldn't be.

“I’m not-- I’m not worried, I just...” You shake your head at yourself, knowing it’s useless to try explain it. You just know you’re running out of excuses here and Chanyeol’s been as patient as possible, but it’s getting to a stage that’s ‘abnormal’, and all that understanding he’s built up may traverse into anger and accusations, which may end with him getting his way, but through an obligation on your part, because the minute a man raises his voice at you...

You sigh. 

Sera knows more than the average person about your circumstances, but even she doesn’t know the entirety of it, and you know for your own safety -- and hers -- you can’t tell her any more than you already have.   

The bell signals. Sera almost shoots up from her seat, eager to be anywhere other than the stuffy classroom, but you find yourself stuck in place, mulling over a particular thought. 

“Actually,” you begin, twiddling with your thumbs. “Could I invite the new kid to the party?” 

She shrugs, as if used to your ‘bleeding heart’, knowing you’re the kind of person who can’t watch someone go lonely, if you knew there was something you could’ve done to lessen the loneliness. 

“Sure,” she mutters. “But if a ‘random’ fire starts, or my house becomes a sudden drug den, you’re making him pay repairs.” 

You sneak another glance at the new kid, pursing your lip at Sera’s words. “He doesn’t look the type,” you mutter. Knowing you have an issue calling people out, she’s making sure that it’s a risk you’re willing to take, especially for someone you barely know.

And for some reason, you think it is. 

She waves her finger in front of your face, in a mildly condescending manner. “People can take you by surprise, someone might see me and think I’m the stereotypical school .” She turns to you, eyes narrowing in contemplation. “And am I, _____?” 

“Far from it.” Thankfully. 

You wait until the class empties somewhat before making your way to the back row, and it’s not that you’ve been paying exceptionally close attention to the new kid, you’re just attuned to differences in your routine, differences in the school’s routine, and right now, that’s him. 

What you have gathered from this one class you share, is that he makes no move to converse with anyone, besides the teacher. And strangely enough, you don’t think you’ve seen anyone approach him either. 

Maybe because they all have their little cliques already, or they’re just so used to being the ones who are approached. 

You don’t know. 

He doesn’t say anything but from the tenseness of his posture you know he’s aware you’re there. You clear your throat awkwardly, as if realizing this might’ve been a mistake.

What if none of it sounds natural? Better yet, what are you doing asking a total stranger if he’d like to go to a party your friend is hosting just because you don’t want him to be the only one in the entire grade who hasn’t received an invite -- is that even your call to make?

But whatever the matter, you’re there now, he’s right in front of you, quiet as a mouse, something in his eyes telling you the last thing he wants is to be cornered by some random girl he’s never spoken to. 

“H-hi,” you choke out, words drying out the millisecond you realize that you should've asked someone other than Sera if they knew his name. Chances are they might have.

It's starting to feel really rude of you to goad him into conversation whilst you make it abundantly clear you don't know who he is. New or not, it's not going to be a nice thing to be on the receiving end of, is it? 

His impassive, but evidently unimpressed look stays in place. There’s no response initially, but he gauges the unspoken quite quickly, it seems. 

“Jongin,” he supplies. There’s a softness to his tone that surprises you, a natural gentleness you’ve not heard in a man in a very long time. 

“Jongin,” you repeat, nodding. It suits him, in all the ways a name can suit a person. 

An awkward, almost tense silences ensues. You find yourself twiddling with your thumbs, chewing at your lip. 

“Where did you move from?”

His impassive expression remains, in direct contrast to the gentle tone from before. You’re reaching a dead end, this isn’t something he wants to talk about, clearly. You should just cut to the chase and get out of there, leave him to his own devices.  

“W-well, anyway, I realize how daunting being the new kid can be and I know not everyone around here seems to be that approachable so I just... uh.” You shake your head at yourself, usually you’re so much more composed than this. But there’s something about Jongin’s slightly disheveled appearance and the way he isn’t... pretending, obviously at least, that’s thrown you off entirely. 

Your school is much like a garden of roses with their thorns plucked off. No matter what role or trope the student body plays into, they do it in a way where their traumas, scars and bruises aren’t on show.

Especially yourself.  

“My friend Sera is throwing a party this weekend and we’ve pretty much invited the entire grade, so new or not, if you want to tag along please know you’re welcome. I can get a more formal invite to you by the morning, if you’d like.”

 He regards you with an even blanker stare than previously, and if you knew anything, he almost looks offended. That even as much as he doesn’t want to be in the classroom talking to a complete stranger, he’d take it over a party with dozens of them. 

On his way out, as he brusquely pushes past you, he mutters, “you might want to go easy on the perfume in the future. It’s overbearing.”  

Is it brutal honesty? Perhaps. Is it something you never experience from the rest of the student body, who for the life of them, treat you like royalty simply because you’re in the ‘popular’ clique? Also yes.

Does the sheer contrast make you smile for that reason? Weirdly, it does. 

He’s new enough that his mind and mannerisms haven’t been corrupted by the expectations and invisible hierarchy of the school and if it isn’t as refreshing as an iced lemonade on a sweltering summer day, you don’t know what is.  

You find yourself watching him as he walks, taking note of  the way his books are tucked under his arm, the way his fingers curl over them protectively. The slowed, but secured steps he’s taking to the door, like each movement has purpose, a quiet, almost threatening determination.

For what? You have no clue.

But it’s in that moment, you know he’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met before. 

But to him? 

You’re just like the rest. Maybe you could defend yourself, scream from the rooftops that it’s all just a tired facade, just about ready to fall apart at the seams... but you don’t. The mere fact that he exists, that you’re not living in some robotic white picketed fence dream where everyone follows the same routine, simpering about the same monotonous surface level drivel for seven hours a day Monday through Friday... right now, that’s enough.   

 

 

Chanyeol’s leaning against his car, wearing the same smirk he knows irritates you like no other. What bothers you the most about this school and the popular clique are the constant facades. 

You know each and every one of them outside of school basis and besides Baekhyun -- Chanyeol’s best friend -- pretty much every single one of them is completely different. Sera included.

They’re a million times less flashy, a lot more subdued, massively more studious. And vice versa for the outwardly studious kids. Truth is, outside of school, they’re people, not just hollow caricatures trying to fill a space they believe must be filled in high school. 

And you’re basing this entirely on what little you do know about Baekhyun, so who’s to say he’s any different, really? 

Though it’s probably hypocritical of you to be thinking this, it’s not like you’re any different. You might have the sunniest facade known to man, and the sweetest demeanor, but not a single one of them knows what your home life is like, nor the darkness that inhibits and follows your very existence. 

And they never will. You’ve navigated your image so precisely that when people meet your facade, spend time with her, they truly believe they know you, not the aspect of you that might’ve wholly existed if it hadn’t been for the million and one other things that got in the way of her development.  

 

Outside of school, Chanyeol’s the sweetest, friendliest guy you know. When he drops his tough, cool boy facade, he’s the real you of the school. And that side of him is... so freeing, so heart warming, your hope in your darkest hour. But lately, it’s appearing less and less. 

Like right now, for instance. “Wait,” he mutters, eyes narrowing onto a figure passing by. “It’s that new kid.”

There’s a gleam in his eyes you’re not used to, it’s darkened, mischievous. Maybe he’s bored of the same mindless chatter, himself. The same mundane day repeating itself, with the very same people filling the very same roles they did the day before. 

Maybe Jongin’s completely unaware of what he’s walked into here, the vulture-like stares he might be receiving from fellow students, the very fact that he’s ‘new meat’, a rare prospect in this neck of the woods, where everyone knows everyone and everyone’s parents grew up with each others’. 

And whilst you harbor this same curiosity on the matter, Chanyeol’s intentions don’t seem as pure. He makes the slightest movement to get up and embark upon Jongin but you reach over and take a hold of his hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

You know he does it as some stupid stereotypical need to prove his ‘alpha male’ position in your grade, teasing and picking on the odd kid here and there, ruffling their hair and hounding them for lunch money, or as a quick way to get his homework done, but of all his new habits, it’s the one you hate the most. 

He rolls his eyes, leaning back against the hood, as if admitting momentary defeat. 

 

Pulling up to his apartment should come as a surprise, but it doesn’t. It’s only been in the back of your mind for the past week and a half. He’s made a reservation, you chant. He’s made a reservation.

Now if there’s some way to convince yourself this is just because he wants you two to take a breather before you make the way to the restaurant, you shake your head at yourself. 

Likely, isn’t it?

Baekhyun’s here. Surely he’ll open his mouth in a second and tell you--

“Baekhyun’s out,” and it’s said with such a hopeful, schoolboy glee you almost want to curse at yourself. You’re here having a near enough panic attack, while he’s likely planned the evening to the nth degree, penciling all the ways you’d try wean your way out of it, preparing for them, hoping to convey his tone in a way that suggests he’s not mad, not by any means, just confused.

It is your two year anniversary, you know...

And well... you are a couple. 

“He’ll be back later,” he continues, voice falling into a seductive timbre, which definitely has its affect on you, he can see that by the goosebumps forming on your skin when he pulls you onto his lap, you’ve shown outward attraction to him on numerous occasions, much as he worried that was the issue, you constantly assure him it isn’t. “We’ll have a couple of hours to kill until then, though.”

Once he brushes your hair off your shoulder, his lips make their way to your neck, and he begins by placing one chaste kiss on the exposed skin, warm breath leaving his next sentence in its wake, “two years and I’m still as crazy about you as I was at the start.” There’s a pause. “If not more.” 

You reach for his hand, gently interlocking your fingers. “M-me too.”

“You know...” he begins, tracing patterns into your thigh, and you try to disguise the wince as his large hands brush over a particularly painful patch of skin. “If we really wanted, we could forgo dinner.”

You feel panic rise within you. “H-haven’t you made the reservation already?” 

He sighs, tucking his hands into his jacket pocket, hoisting it back over his shoulders, like he hadn’t taken it off fully for this exact reason, and not because he knew you’d find a way to avoid going further. “Unfortunately.” 

 

Dinner’s great. Really, it is. For the both of you. Your smiles are almost ear to ear, you have a million things to talk about, no one is wholeheartedly pretending like at school, so looking into his eyes only leaves you feeling warm.

But even in the midst of all of that, even outside of what the night should be progressing into and the apparent nerves that take over you at the mere mention, there’s something else. In your eyes, he can see it.

“Baby,” he begins. “Is something up?” Not that he’s accusing you of only pretending to enjoy the night, it’s clear you genuinely have, but you suppose there are some topics that dim your genuine joy no matter what you do. 

You twiddle with your thumbs. Just the topic you wanted to avoid.  “My-- uh... my father’s coming back tonight.”

Much as very few know the real you, Chanyeol and Sera are two who have gotten to the depths of you, without getting too deep into the traumas, so you do like to exclude them from the general consensus, even though they might not know all the gritty details, thankfully, they know enough. 

Chanyeol knows that the relationship between yourself and your father is beyond rocky, and that your father’s curfews are strictly enforced. In the early days of your relationship, you had to sneak around constantly. 

Berating himself for not realizing sooner, because this wasn’t your usual apprehension, he finds himself calling off his own hopes and wishes, because not only will Baekhyun be arriving back at their apartment soon, and that’s a whole other can of worms, there’s no way on earth he could convincingly invite you over for the night without your father throwing a fit. 

Maybe when he goes back out of town, which he hopes is soon, but certainly not tonight...

 

Chanyeol runs a tired hand through his hair, willing the sombre mood away. 

“Shut the up,” he mutters as he makes his way inside the apartment, making sure he doesn’t slam the door. It’s an awkward contraption of a thing, and sometimes he can be heavy handed, something Baekhyun never is.  

He can hear Baekhyun’s biting chortle in the background. “I didn’t say anything,” he sings. 

Taking his coat off with half the energy he started the day with, he looks over at his best friend, his roommate, and watches the array of emotions run through his eyes. He feels the mood darken, even if it’s by a fraction, it’s enough to silence the both of them.

“You know,” Baekhyun begins, raising his eyebrow only slightly. “You must really love her, to go this long without getting your wet.” There’s a callous cruelness to the words, but under it, a symphony only they can hear, that only they can decipher.  

Chanyeol opens his mouth, only to close it a second later. Truthfully, he’s floored. 

Baekhyun shakes his head, the pain in his eyes finally becoming apparent. “Happy anniversary bro,” he whispers, as he gets up from his seat and makes his way past him.  

“Baekhyun--”

“Save it,” he mutters, as if he’s exhausted the topic a million times over in his head. “I’m going to have an early night. See you in the morning.”

When Chanyeol makes his way into the kitchen for a glass of water, it doesn’t take a photographic memory to see that the wine glasses have been rearranged; like they’ve been taken from their usual spot, placed on the table and back a few times, and it’s hard to miss the drop of wine on the floor that could only have come off the one bottle of wine Chanyeol had left in the fridge, unopened when he’d made his way out with you, hours earlier... 

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Ninibears-erigom
#1
Chapter 2: Wait...are Baekhyun...were Baekhyun and Chanyeol a thing cos like Baekhyun giving off some jealous ex vibes lol
Ninibears-erigom
#2
Chapter 1: I still love the start T_T
noomin #3
Chapter 1: This is so intriguing love it
Ninibears-erigom
#4
Chapter 1: Omgggggggggg I’m so intrigued!!!!
jngntmnscenarios
#5

Maybe this would be a better theme song for the story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8C5M3_Uaqk, but I love the title too much ahhh