Kray; The Painter’s Shell 5/?

Of all the things in the world, nothing made Baekhyun feel more comfortable than laying down in his boyfriend’s arms, feeling warm and dazed under a cocoon of blankets as they surfed through channels on television. The couch in the living room has enough space for two, or probably one, but they didn’t care, as long as they can stay snuggled up to one another like this.

Baekhyun felt a stare at the top of his head when he pressed the remote buttons randomly, not really caring what program comes on until he found one that he’d actually like. After approximately two minutes of that feeling though, Baekhyun got curious.

“What’s the matter?” He lifted his eyes to Chanyeol’s, feeling the strong hands tighten around him as he put the remote on the coffee table.

“Nothing.” Chanyeol hummed to himself. “I was just wondering why you got mad earlier.”

Something heavy sank in his stomach at its mention, his reluctance to tell finding its way back to the surface and he exhaled slowly.

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah. If you could tell me now..?”

“Um..” Baekhyun bit his lower lip while tracing random patterns onto Chanyeol’s chest, not sure of how to break it to Chanyeol without it sounding wrong. “Actually, I was thinking of telling sometime later. When Kris is here. Since he’s the one who asked and all,”

Chanyeol was silent for a moment.

“Ah, I see,”

Despite his words, Baekhyun felt the body beneath him tense up, muscles clenching and he discreetly chanced a glance to Chanyeol. The model’s face was touched with the barest hints of a frown, his brows subtly pulled at the middle and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I never knew he was that important.”

Baekhyun had already seen it coming and he rolled his eyes, pushing himself up on his elbows. Chanyeol’s hand dropped to the small of his back, fingertips barely touching the skin as if he didn’t want to touch him.

“Don’t get me wrong, Chanyeol,” He huffed, voice slightly stern. “It’s just that I don’t want to have to explain it a second time,”

“Really.” The model chuckled humorlessly. The hand on Baekhyun no longer touched him as he brought the hand to his forehead, his eyes to the ceiling. “Though if you asked me, I’d say that you like him more than me.”

“What? Chanyeol, you should really hear yourself right now,” Baekhyun pushed himself up to a sitting position, staring down at the other.

“I am,” He said, eyes finally falling onto Baekhyun’s. “It didn’t sound wrong,”

“It did!” Baekhyun looked scandalized. “You, of all people should know that he means nothing to me!”

“Well you could have shown that he did not! But you chose to parade him around in front of me instead!”

“You’re looking too deep into things, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun stood up, grabbing his phone and wallet on the table.

“It’s you who made me feel this way, Baek,” At that, Baekhyun looked at him, a resigned look on his face.

“I’ve never had doubts about us, Chanyeol.” His eyes turned moist, and Chanyeol felt his heart plummet at the side. He had never liked it when Baekhyun cried. “So why do you?”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to answer, but no words came. Seemingly disappointed, Baekhyun turned and left, letting the door slam as Chanyeol gathered his courage to run after him.

--

Baekhyun finished his story looking guilty, looking down into his cup of tea before they flickered to Kris, who sat across him with his mouth hanging open.

“Wow. To think you only come home after a fight,” Kris laughed, one thick eyebrow raised with a humoured smile on his face.

“Don’t even mention it. I can already see my days ahead,” Baekhyun’s distress was clear in his voice, though it was muffled when he buried his face in his palms and sighed. “God, that is lonely.”

“Cheer up. You’re not going to fight forever.”

“It already feels like forever.” Baekhyun grumbled, putting his hands down again. “Why does he have to be that jealous anyway? It’s just you!”

Kris felt a pang in his heart when Baekhyun said it. Like Baekhyun never and will never see anything in Kris that’s better than Chanyeol, like he never really expected something between them to escalate.

“Yeah,” He answered nervously, taking a sip from his cup.

“I mean, you’re his manager! And my soon-to-be brother-in-law!” He ranted, before slumping down on the couch.

“Maybe he still thinks I..” Kris trailed off, feeling uncomfortable.

“You what?”

“Still have a crush on you?” His voice grew timid. He knew that he must be turning red, and by the look on Baekhyun’s face, he had just made the situation awkward.

So he cleared his throat, and acted like he hadn’t spoken.

“So basically now he thinks we’re… something?”

“No,” Baekhyun shrugged. “He knows you’re with Yixing. He couldn’t be that stupid.”

Yixing.

Oh right. He’s upstairs and sick.

“Oh hey, I just remembered something. I need to get Yixing some food, since he hadn’t eaten at all.” He stood up, feeling the atmosphere brighten.

“Why didn’t he take it himself?” Baekhyun narrowed his eyes, merely watching as Kris made his way to the kitchen.

“He’s… sick.” Kris nodded to himself slowly as he poured the soup into a bowl. “To be honest, I don’t know. But he hadn’t eaten, so might as well get him some.”

“Soup?” Baekhyun asked skeptically.

“Well, yeah! That’s all I can make!” Kris said exasperatedly before rushing upstairs with the tray, balanced precariously in his hands.

Baekhyun laughed at him, noticing the way Kris’s cheeks turn slightly red.

How cute.

--

The tray clinked softly on the nightstand as he placed it, his eyes falling onto the figure beneath the blanket. When he sat on the bed, it creaked under his weight, but Yixing was still. He touched Yixing’s shoulder tentatively, shaking him when the other gave no response.

“Yixing,” His voice was threatening to waver as he spoke, his tone soft. “Yixing? You have to eat,”

He leaned in closer when he gave no response, and found that the other’s eyes were open. They were emotionless, dazed.

“Yixing?” He called again, concerned.

Kris didn’t know where he got the courage, but it was already too late to ponder when his fingers touched strands of jet black hair just behind his ear. It was addicting, the way it would shine under the light as more loose strands fall from his ponytail. He loved how the hair felt soft beneath his fingers, and he just can’t stop.

So he didn’t actually realize it when he finally did, looking down into a pair of eyes that were staring straight into his.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Yixing asked. His voice sounded tired.

“What- No. You’re nicer-“

“I’m a burden, Kris. It will do you no good of marrying me.” His voice did not falter, did not break, and Kris didn’t know what to make of it. These were words of insecurity, he knew, but there was no sign of it on the other’s face. Perhaps he had mastered his emotions well.

“You’re not,” He said simply, voice dropping to a whisper as his fingers continued their ministrations on the silky hair. “You’ve never been.”

He searched the other’s eyes as he spoke, but he closed it. As if his emotions were on full display and he didn’t want Kris meddling in it. When he opened them again, they shined under the light, glossy.

“I can give you no child, and I can give you no happiness. I’m fragile, and I am weak. All you’re getting here is someone who would break with a single touch, and I’m not worth your care,”

“No.” He smiled softly. “You can’t give me a child, but you can give me the happiness. And maybe you’re fragile- heck everyone is- but you’re not weak, Yixing. If you were weak, you would have given up on life, but you didn’t. You still strive to survive. You still paint, remember?”

Yixing gave a half-smile, showing his dimples and it took all of Kris to refrain from pinching his cheeks.

“And you didn’t break, Yixing.” He added, watching where his fingers were twirling the loose strands of black. “I’m touching you now, and you didn’t break.”

At that, Yixing nearly laughed and pushed his hands away. “Not like that, you idiot.”

“I know!” Kris defended himself, knowing that smile right then probably would break his face in half. “But that’s beside the point. It’s the same thing anyway. I still touched you.”

A comfortable silence settled over them as they stared at each other, assessing once again before Kris pulled Yixing’s wrist.

“Come on, you have to eat that,” He said, pointing to the tray on the nightstand as Yixing sat up.

“Thanks,” Yixing said softly, between sips from his spoon. The soup was already not as hot as he preferred it to be, and it tasted a bit weird, but it’s the thought that counts. And he appreciated it, really. From his peripheral vision, he could see Kris giving him a soft smile as he watched, and it was enough to make his heart flutter about.

When nightfall came, Kris could sense that something between them had changed. Yixing had given him a small smile before he drifted off, and for the last few seconds that he was conscious, he had felt an arm drape over his stomach.

That night, he dreamt of sunshines and a smiling face.

--

Kris woke up the next morning feeling impossibly hot. Like his body temperature was a few thousand degrees over the normal body temperature. His pants felt impossibly tight and his body was impossibly warm all over. Somehow, the innocent dream morphed into one that had clearly expressed his deprivation, and the object of his desire was sleeping right beside him. It didn’t do him good when the thought crossed his mind. Sighing, he craned his neck to look at the clock.

5:24 AM.

ing early.

So he tried desperately to get back to sleep, willing his to go away as his mind wrapped around the fact that his body also felt impossibly heavy. When he tried to turn, he found himself immobilized. Looking down gingerly, he almost screamed at the impossibility of the situation.

Yixing was draped over him, his hand wrapped securely around his waist while their legs tangled. Kris felt his cheeks flush as he looked at Yixing, the smell of his hair invading his senses, sending it to overdrive and he sighed, surrendering to the fact that he needed to get laid.

Needless to say, a thousand gallons of ice cold water was wasted in shower that morning.

His bad mood that day didn’t end there. Instead, it intensified when Chanyeol turned out to be obviously mad at him, considering the frown on his face. Frankly, Kris didn’t give a damn, so he said absolutely nothing about it, until Chanyeol actually started ing up the photoshoot.

“Concentrate, damn you.” He had said through gritted teeth to Chanyeol when the photographer told him to take a break.

Kris internally scolded himself for losing his cool so easily, though the model only sent a brief glare his way. But fortunately his performance improved after that. Still, Chanyeol refused to meet his eyes and it was his turn to be seriously pissed. And right at that moment, his phone rang.

“What do you want?” He snapped into the phone without checking the caller ID.

“Whoa, chill dude.” Came Kai’s voice from the other end, which only hurtled a load of annoyance his way. “Why is it always me? Anyway I just need you to pass a message to Yixing.”

“Make it quick,” He demanded impatiently.

“Tell him I’ll pick him up in the morning, tomorrow. We’ll work in my studio for a while. And this would probably take a long time, since I’ve finished my sketches and all I need is for him to determine the colours and prints.”

“That is all?”

“That is all.” Kris was ready to end the call when Kai called again. “Wait. One more thing, tell him to dress properly. He’s going to meet some people in charge of this project.”

Kris let the information sink in, alarm bells ringing in his head when the thought of Kai and Yixing alone in the studio crossed his mind.

“Wait. So there’ll be only the two of you?”

“No,” Kai scoffed. Kris could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “I told you he’ll be meeting other people working on this project.” Then he laughed, sounding a bit teasing. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

“No.” He replied hastily, though he was sure his voice sounded nothing but. “I’ll pass it to him.”

Like always, Kris ended the call before the other could say anything, feeling a bit anxious about what Kai had just told him. Well, he could always forget to tell Yixing. Then he shook his head.

No.

He directed his attention to Chanyeol, who seemed uncharacteristically out of it as he posed, looking tired and tense, so unlike the model he’d seen before. It made Kris want to go there and yell some sense into him.

“You look frustrated.” A feminine voice sounded, too close for his liking.

He looked up, straight into the eyes of a pretty famous model, and he automatically forced a smile onto his face.

“I’m sorry, that’s just how I was born,”

She laughed, covering with her hand. She was pretty, the perfect embodiment of the word feminine, but he didn’t find himself attracted.

“You’re funny,” She said, holding out her hand. “I’m Hyori.”

“I know.” He replied simply, accepting the handshake. “Kris Wu. Shouldn’t you be there?” He asked, pointing to the set.

“Nah. I’m here for my sister. Lee Hi.” She motioned to a blonde girl on the set. “Usually, they’re done by this time. What’s taking them so long?”

“I don’t know.” Kris made his disinterest clear, but Hyori seemed to not take the hint, as she sat beside him.

“You say that, but clearly you’re model’s ruining it.”

Kris decided then that he wouldn’t like this girl, though he still replied, albeit nonchalantly.

“He’s had a rough night,”

“He should be professional,” She commented again. “I think he should at least clear out his head before getting on with the job,”

“And I think you should leave,” He said immediately, and Hyori turned to him, jaw dropping.

“What?” It was clear from her eyes that she didn’t get turned down by guys very frequently, but Kris would say that she was an expert in initiating small talk either.

“You should leave,” He said with a fake smile.

She huffed, immediately standing up before leaving with a final glare. Kris couldn’t care less.

Damn es.

After the photoshoot, Kris waited for Chanyeol in the car. Instead of looking angry, Chanyeol returned with what looked like exhaustion on his face, but he was still adamant about avoiding Kris’s gaze. It was the last straw.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kris snapped, glaring straight at him. Chanyeol stared back with wide eyes, clearly not expecting his manager to actually get mad. After a moment passed, Kris sighed and looked back outside through the windshield.

“I’m not going to apologise, as I’ve done nothing wrong.” He turned the key in the ignition and waited for the engine to warm up before adding. “Also, you’re stupid.”

At that, Chanyeol seemed to lose all control, and he suddenly burst out in frustration.

“I know!” He wallowed in his despair, looking out the window longingly. At what, Kris didn’t know. “I ed up. Baek told you?”

“No, Yixing did.”

Chanyeol turned to him, eyes wide and Kris rolled his in annoyance.

“Of course Baekhyun did, stupid.”

“There’s no need to torment me with the word.” Chanyeol seemed to sink in his chair after that, all manners and behaviours of a model thrown out the window. “What am I going to do now?”

“Follow me home,” Kris said spontaneously, which got him a raised eyebrow from Chanyeol. “Not like that, you idiot.”

Chanyeol gave no response, but Kris knew that he had no other choice.

--

Just as he arrived, he went straight to Yixing’s room, leaving Chanyeol to wander around the house alone for Baekhyun. As usual, he found him in his room, sitting in front of the easel, his dedication only to the white canvas in front of him. He was painting the moon at that time, he could see from the silvery outlines. How fitting, Kris thought. He’s exactly like the moon.

“Hi Yixing,”

The brunette turned around, startled at his presence.

“Ah, you’re back. Are you hungry? I didn’t cook, I’m sorry.” He got up, gathering his brushes and putting them in one place before turning to face Kris again.

“It’s okay, just carry on with whate-“

“Are you hungry?” He asked again, firmly.

“Well yeah, but-“

“Come.” It was not an invitation, but neither was it an order.

He led Kris to the kitchen by his wrist, the soft touch making Kris turn slightly red.

“What do you want to eat?” Yixing asked, opening the fridge, inspecting the contents.

“Anything you can whip up right now,” He grinned childishly, which grew wider when Yixing gave him a soft smile of his own. It was subtle, but only seeing it made Kris’s insides melt hopelessly.

He watched Yixing cook, mesmerized by the grace of the way he moved. He didn’t even try to make small conversation, preferring instead the comfortable silence that they shared. When Yixing took out the knife though, he grew worried.

“Let me help,”

“No.” Yixing brushed him away. “You’ll spoil the food.”

Kris laughed, but his mind still couldn’t get over the fact that Yixing had been cooking for years, and he was not prone to accidents as much as he was imagining it. But he was right to worry, because the second he took his eyes off of him, Yixing jumped back, startled.

A cry of surprise tore from his throat, which he quickly covered by shutting his mouth as he stared at his finger. Drops of red blood collected at the tip, and instantly, Kris knew that this isn’t going to be good.

Blessed with good impulse, Kris shot up from his chair, before pulling Yixing’s back against him. One hand covered his eyes while the other grabbed his fingers, away from his vision. Yixing was tense, he could sense from the way he flinched when Kris got closer to him.

“It’s okay,” Kris whispered. “It’s just blood. A tiny bit. It’s okay. I’m here,”

And the bloody finger was pressed against his lips.

“I’m here,”

--

The next day, Kris was surprised to find that he woke up at exactly twelve. With the sun high up, he squinted, trying to adjust himself to the light. The room smelled like sunshines and Yixing, he noticed.

But the painter was nowhere to be found.

He craned his neck, looking around, hoping to have a glimpse of the brunette. When he didn’t see him though, he buried himself into the blanket and shut his eyes again.

--

“Kris,”

Yixing was smiling, looking down at him with affection in his eyes as he his hair lovingly. His gaze was deep and full of emotion. Kris couldn’t help but to admire the beauty in front of him, so caring, so affectionate.

“I love you,”

Kris’s eyes widened as Yixing leaned down, closing the distance between them. His hair fell loosely around their faces, framing their kiss, keeping it a secret from the world. Before he knew it, his fingers were already carding through them, pulling him down closer to deepen their kiss. Yixing’s hands were on Kris’s shoulders, supporting him as Kris traced patterns onto his back.

Yixing shuddered under his touch, a small gasp escaping his lips as he arched his back. Their lips disconnected, and Kris opened his eyes again, to find that the other pair had turned into glassy orbs of dark brown, swimming with lust.

Kris let his hand slide on the gentle curve of his neck, feeling slight trembles coursing his vein as he moved them to his shoulder, slipping his shirt off in the process. His skin was smooth and milky, and Kris found himself wanting to see more.

“Kris,” His voice sounded louder, as he caressed his sides gently. Warm hazel eyes looked into his, and Kris tried to bite back a groan.

“Kris,” Suddenly he wasn’t so gentle anymore, looking at Kris sternly, not affected at all by the touches.

“Kris!”

He jerked awake at the sound of his name, frantically looking around the moment his eyes opened. He relaxed when he found Yixing looking at him with worry.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice laced with concern. “It’s three in the evening and you’re still in bed!”

“Three?” He asked groggily, fragments of the dream still clinging to his mind.

“Yes.” He pulled Kris’s hand none too gently, urging him to get off the bed. “Now go shower or something. Or eat. Whatever, as long as you get out of bed.”

When had Yixing become this naggy?

Kris obeyed with a grunt, dragging his feet to the bathroom to brush his teeth, not caring about showers before heading downstairs. From the stairs, he could hear voices.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

They sat at the kitchen, flirting shamelessly with each other over a plate of something Kris couldn’t identify. He shrugged it off as Chanyeol’s cooking.

“You’re so sweet,” He could hear Baekhyun say, and it was all he could do to keep himself from gagging.

“You’re sweeter,” Chanyeol said. Kris felt his face twitch.

Okay, this crap should stop.

“Ew, it’s too late in the afternoon to give me toothaches.” Kris announced his presence, smirking smugly when both Baekhyun and Chanyeol both jumped in their seats. “I see you guys have made up,”

“Yeah. Someone admitted to being stupid.” Baekhyun chuckled, earning a light slap on the arm.

They were sitting at the island counter, and amidst the plates of the things Kris couldn’t dare to call food, was a newspaper.

“Hey, did you buy that?” Kris asked Baekhyun, pointing to the paper.

“Nope. Yixing did. He went out just now right?”

Kris nodded, picking up the newspaper absentmindedly before walking to the couch. What could be so interesting? He flipped the pages, scanning through each headline, finding nothing of his interest. Political problems, road accidents, missing people. Then he reached the gossip section. They were all just the usual news really. Female actresses losing weight, models getting promoted to Milan and Paris, tons of scandals.He scanned the page, halfway through flipping it when his eyes caught it.

His name. Next to his picture. With Hyori.

What-

--

A/N: I kinda rushed through the ending sorry L Sooo abt the story. I just haaaaaad to put in the cliché scene lol. It seemed irresistible at that time. Now I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I can’t cut it. I like it ;A; okay enough. So guise feel free to point out my mistakes (grammars, spelling etc) as I did not beta this one /flails/ Sorry T^T And this story will end soon. Just give to 2/3 chapters more. Or 4, if I decide to change my mind eheheh

So thanks guys for being patient! Enjoy and comment!

I love you guise ;A; and do vote <3