Kyungsoo/Sehun | AU | 4200 words

Kyungsoo has his metes and boundaries, but that doesn’t stop Sehun from pushing Kyungsoo over the edge.

Sehun has his cool friends but Kyungsoo does not. Kyungsoo has friends who enjoy singing and music whereas Sehun’s don’t. Sehun’s friends like misadventure. Kyungsoo is not the adventurous type.

Kyungsoo tells Sehun this but Sehun only laughs at him, almost-gone sun casting a faint shadow under his eyes. “You just need to have fun,” Sehun says, fingertips finding the sleeve of Kyungsoo’s shirt and pulling at it. Kyungsoo shakes his head because he’s not meant to have fun mid-semester, too stiff backpack already heavy on his shoulders. Sehun doesn’t care he says, if he fails then he fails, no big deal, but Kyungsoo knows deep down that Sehun does.

Sehun is just too loose for him sometimes, big-for-him trousers hanging low on his pointy hipbones. Sehun is running with his hands held high, middle-spring air sweeping through his hair when he sits in his car, elbow pushed against the windowsill. He drives Kyungsoo downtown sometimes, Chinese take-away still warm on their lips, breath caught in their throat. They go wandering around the beach later, Sehun stripping his jacket off and leaving it by the car. Sehun is always afloat, letting his tides wash over the shore of Kyungsoo’s heart when he’s not aware enough. Sehun is a river, and Kyungsoo is not quite sure if he’s ready to let Sehun’s roams in or not.

Sehun folds his arms over Kyungsoo’s shoulders, the texture of his white shirt scraping against Kyungsoo’s palms. “Come on, smile for me, hyung.”

Kyungsoo smiles at this, hyung. Sehun doesn’t really care to call Kyungsoo that, or anyone to be honest but when he does, it feels like he doesn’t mean it. It’s something impossible to ignore, but Kyungsoo lets it go with a slap on Sehun’s nape. “Let’s go, your class starts in fifteen minutes, and I want to go home.”

“You won’t wait for me?”

“No,” Kyungsoo says, kicking grass into Sehun’s face and laughing when he flinches. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll buy you bubble tea if you wait for me,” says Sehun, left hand flinging in the air, waiting for Kyungsoo to grab it and help him stand up. “Really!”

“No, I’m going home, but nice try.”

Sehun watches him leave after they bid their goodbyes, half of his body already flooding away. Kyungsoo turns back, but Sehun is already walking away; Sehun is a river with hazy edges, and sometimes just too loose for Kyungsoo.

…

Kyungsoo has an apartment on his own. Sehun says he wants to have one too but his parents are persistent. They say he’s only twenty, he has plenty time to move out. Sehun says it’s not fair. Kyungsoo says it’s because they love him.

Sehun brings all of his video games over on Saturdays, hair freshly washed and blow-dried to perfection. Kyungsoo stops to admire it on occasions when Sehun looks the neatest, the grey vest over his chest ironed on the edges. They play video games and drink bubble tea all day, laying around Kyungsoo’s crumpled sheets with the radio on, Sehun dancing along to some popstars Kyungsoo doesn’t even know about. Sehun would ask Kyungsoo to sing but he’d decline, wanting to play video games instead. In reality, he wouldn’t want Sehun hear him sing, voice getting tired by the second verse and faltering. Then just because Sehun is so kind he’d say it’s okay and would slip under covers with Kyungsoo, fingers running over his waist and stilling there. And Kyungsoo would think, if having fun means having Sehun all over him, he’d like to hold him in his arms all the time.

They sleep and laugh and chat until it gets dark and Sehun has to go home. Sehun puts his sneakers on, one of Kyungsoo’s favourites and leaves with his limbs flowing through the door like water is flooding through the cracks of mountains, finding their bay on their own. Sehun walks away but it looks more like he’s drifting above, feet never quite touching ground. He’s long gone when Kyungsoo realises, he’s already left. Kyungsoo turns, locks the door after he closes it. He goes to bed and dreams about running rivers and Sehun’s ironed button-ups.

…

By the end of April, Sehun flows away from Kyungsoo effortlessly, having found Lu Han as his ‘new cute Chinese best friend’ as he likes to call it. Jongin says, it’s a matter of time and you’ll be all over each other again but that seems so impossible now, Sehun hanging out with Lu Han on each day of each week of each month.

“Don’t be so jealous, dude,” Chanyeol tells him during lunch break, half-chewed boiled egg dangling from his mouth. Baekhyun sighs, “Gross,” and pushes Chanyeol away but Chanyeol steadies himself with his legs.

“I’m not jealous,” says Kyungsoo. His eggs are untouched on his plate.

“Sure,” Wu Yi Fan says. “And Chanyeol is not dumb.”

“I’m not,” Chanyeol deadpans, stabbing his chopsticks into the back of Wu Yi Fan’s hands. He sulks until break is over, sobbing into Jongin’s shoulder when they have to part.

“You really shouldn’t worry about it though,” Baekhyun says before their class start, “Sehun loves you no matter what.”

But does Sehun love Lu Han like he loves Kyungsoo?

…

Kyungsoo remembers the first time they kissed, his hands trembling in Sehun’s hold. They were only two awkward boys hauling over the bridge in fall. Sehun was only thirteen, bones so thin his clothes didn’t fit him. Kyungsoo pushed his hands into his pockets, Sehun watching the way sunlight got caught on his eyelashes, and without caution, he pushed his lips to Kyungsoo’s.

Kyungsoo only remembers chapped lips and a taste of unmarred skin on the roof of his mouth but it was over even before it started. It was just a moment, a flutter of the eyelids or a beat of the heart, but it had Sehun slipping his hands in Kyungsoo’s pockets too.

They didn’t feel odd about it, but they never talked about it either. At the age of fifteen, it was Kyungsoo who kissed Sehun behind the shed on his birthday, the smell of burnt candles and cheap cake stuck between the creases of his lips, Sehun’s hair curling into his fingers like they were meant to. There weren’t any questions, just Sehun’s lips morphing into a smile after they parted, legs sliding against each other.

They didn’t get together and they didn’t even plan to, and they haven’t kissed since then but Kyungsoo can’t forget how it felt to be held so close to someone he actually loves.

…

Sehun comes over on a rainy Sunday, raindrops caught in his now lighter hair, running down the side of his neck. Kyungsoo picks them up with his palm after he lets him in, nails brushing along the vein of Sehun’s nape.

They play video games like any other times before with Sehun sloped across the bed and Kyungsoo sitting in front of the TV, arms finding rest on his knees. It feels like there aren’t any Lu Hans, but then Sehun drops the controller by his side and scoots over to where Kyungsoo is sitting. A tense shudder runs through Kyungsoo’s spine before Sehun throws his arms around him, chest feeling too board against Kyungsoo’s scapula.

“Hyung,” Sehun starts. Kyungsoo already knows what he wants to say. “About Lu Han–“

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo lies. “I’m not mad or anything. You’re allowed to have other friends.”

Sehun goes quiet then, heart steadily beating into the blades of Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Sometimes Sehun is really just like a cold rush, fast and unexpected and Kyungsoo can’t match him in motion enough to comprehend. It’s alright because rivers are not running forever. When they mould, they slow down, cold rush not as freezing cold as before, but Kyungsoo can’t wait anymore.

“We’re not like that,” Sehun says after a moment, one of his fingers dipping into Kyungsoo’s neck. “We are not…“

Kyungsoo thinks he knows what he means. He wants to lean into Sehun but he chooses not to, sitting upright and missing the way how Sehun’s arms twitch when they slide away. “I said it’s okay, no need for apologising.”

Shifting under Kyungsoo’s gaze, Sehun starts the material of Kyungsoo’s sheets, and Kyungsoo panics because this is a first. This is a first because Kyungsoo never knew how it felt to be uncomfortable with Sehun but now he knows.

Tension sits hard on the length of his limbs so he stands up and pulls Sehun with him to the kitchen. Freshly baked apple pie awaits them on the counter that Kyungsoo made the night before, steaming hot plate leaving vapour on the table. They eat until they’re full, Sehun forcing spoonfuls of apple sauce into Kyungsoo’s mouth.

Kyungsoo growls, “Why are you stuffing me?”

“Because you’re so small you have to grow,” Sehun snickers.

“I’m older than you, brat.”

“Hah,” Sehun rolls his eyes. “You feel like a dongsaeng to me.”

Kyungsoo gasps and sulks like Chanyeol and Sehun pokes his face until it blooms into a smile.

When Sehun leaves, his heart squeezes tight in his chest. Sometimes he forgets how to live with someone like Sehun and forgets how it is to get washed away.

…

Winter comes faster than Kyungsoo thought it would, cold wind blowing his face into roses. Winter is when rivers slow down, getting ice tangled in their way. Sehun slows down too with his failing limbs, feet finally coming to a stop at the end of the pavement.

“Wait for me,” Kyungsoo says, “You’re always running.”

“No, you just take a lot of unnecessary time to stroll around.”

Kyungsoo scoffs at him, eyes fixated on the road. “Where are we going?”

“Jongin’s birthday party. He said to be there at ten but I don’t think we’ll make–“

“But Jongin’s birthday is next week.”

Sehun rolls his eyes. He reaches out for Kyungsoo, grabbing at his shoulders and says, “Yours too, and you haven’t even told me what to get you.”

A smile cracks its way to Kyungsoo lips but he shrugs Sehun away, saying, “It’s because I don’t want anything from you.”

“You sure about that?”

Sehun sounds like he’s only teasing him but his hands are hovering over Kyungsoo’s waist and Kyungsoo can’t be sure. “Yeah.”

Kyungsoo watches from the very corner of his eyes how some passing cars illuminate Sehun’s face in the darkness, eyes so blue they leave imprints on Kyungsoo’s photoreceptors. Sehun is radiant with all these alien yellows reflecting on his skin where it’s free from warm wool and cotton, giant bulletin billboards’ neon lights painting his hair in various greens and deep purples, sometimes reds on end. Sehun flows with these colours so lightly, as easily as he fits his clothes now, trousers not so big on him anymore.

Sehun catches Kyungsoo’s eyes and the moment breaks, raising goosebumps on Kyungsoo’s arms. He smiles, and then his arm is in Kyungsoo’s.

It’s too nice. It’s not just an efficient weight on his meat. The feeling weaves itself into Kyungsoo’s whole, bruising the underside of his heart until it starts beating again. Thinks, what if Sehun never was and they never happened. What if that bridge in autumn where they did not only fall together but has fallen into each other never was built, river under racing alone without a shelter. Kyungsoo doesn’t know answers, doesn’t know how to figure his heart out. It’s not like simple math with calculators and curved-in-paper numbers. It’s Sehun and he’s a river running blindly, the burst of his swiftness engulfing Kyungsoo in. Sehun takes him away, sometimes, still warm take-away galbi in hand. That is when Kyungsoo understands that Sehun is not meant to slacken down. Sehun is meant to flit through Kyungsoo’s bones and die out in his heart.

Jongin’s place reeks of weed and amphetamine, last night’s wine drip-dried on the cushions on the couch. The living room is full of freshmen, either classmates of Jongin or Sehun or just some blokes from the street looking for some fun. They are too young and too bold, pot dangling in their hands and lips fitting over someone else’s, the touch of their hands never quite unsteady on hips.

And then there is Lu Han. Lu Han, with honey brown hair falling over his forehead, skin pure on his neck. Lu Han suffused in stripes, his worn-out sweater hanging carelessly on his shoulders. Lu Han who is magnificent, and is nothing like Kyungsoo.

Sehun finds Lu Han with opened arms, the whole length of his body leaning into his warmth. Jealousy. It’s jealousy that Kyungsoo feels and it makes him hinge out the door.

Jongin finds him in the bathroom with his head dug between his knees and shaking. The smoke that wreathes around has his eyes blood shot red, too dark in the corners. Jongin helps him up. Kyungsoo doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, but he’s already decided. He kisses Jongin. Jongin is not Sehun. Jongin is a fire burning down the walls Kyungsoo builds, but he can’t keep him floating. Jongin smells like cologne and soap and fume, hair rough under Kyungsoo’s fingers. It doesn’t remind him of that fall over the river with hands in pockets and rosy cheeks. In fact, Jongin makes him forget and maybe that is what Kyungsoo needs.

It’s Jongin who pulls away first, fingers fisted around the hem of Kyungsoo’s shirt. He breathes as rapidly as Kyungsoo’s heart is beating a loud rhythm of blood in his ears.

“What’s this?” Jongin asks. His sun-kissed golden skin contrasts against Kyungsoo’s whiteness. It’s almost repulsive, not quite how like Sehun melts into Kyungsoo. “Kyungsoo, what’s this?”

“I don’t know,” says Kyungsoo and he’s not lying.

“I thought you–“ Jongin begins, voice slurred with weed and haze. “You and Sehun–“

Kyungsoo’s breath catches in his throat. “No, we’re not.”

The quietness is deafening. Jongin’s hands leaves his neck, goes to click the bathroom door open. Before he leaves, Sehun’s form flashes across the room then moulds into Jongin’s retreating back and as he fades, Kyungsoo’s face falls.

Sehun’s eyes taint him. For a moment, he forces his eyelids closed, imagines early-spring air racing in the opened windows, ruffling the sleeves of his light beige cotton cloth raincoat. The next moment Sehun is still looking at him, orbs delving under his clothes to drill into his veins. Kyungsoo thinks it’s by misadventure that someone as accommodating and free as Sehun could look so stable right there in the midst of rumpled joint smoke twirling around his head, the inaudible drumming of the music skipping through the carpet right to his toes. He is almost unreal and Kyungsoo decides it’s a dream when Lu Han comes up to Sehun to his hands across his arms.

Why does it feel so suffocating here? Kyungsoo is out faster than lightning and doesn’t care to turn back.

…

Next week Kyungsoo pretends that nothing’s gone wrong. He can’t be sure himself but he likes the idea of Sehun and Lu Han not existing, footprints getting carried away in the sand if Kyungsoo squints enough.

Jongin disappears. Chanyeol tries calling him but the line goes dead at the second ring. Baekhyun says Jongin is probably huddled in his cosy corner of sheets but Kyungsoo knows better.

Sehun comes to school with his tie fastened around his neck. Kyungsoo’s pulse picks up when Sehun brushes his arm against his as he passes him.

“Where’s Jongin?” Sehun asks. His clothes are ironed to perfection.

“No one knows,” Joonmyun says. “He doesn’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’s having a hangover.”

“Right,” Sehun says and his eyes meet Kyungsoo’s for a split moment before they roll back behind his lids and he sighs. “I’m meeting Lu Han in five minutes. I have to go.”

Kyungsoo feels his veins freeze in motion. Baekhyun clutches at the back of his jacket lightly. The moment Sehun walks away, Baekhyun’s hand is gone. When Sehun is out of reach, he asks, eyes expectant, “Did something happen between you two?”

“No,” Kyungsoo says without missing a beat. “Nothing.” He wishes he’s never met Sehun in primary school with shoes so worn out they almost fell of his feet, body too long to suit others. He wishes this nothing means really nothing and not a thousand other things, wishes there were no bridges and kisses and burnt candles with cake on them, no taste of skin and yielding fingers. No autumn breezes and Kyungsoo starts walking away. Baekhyun looks at him, eyebrows knocking together in an interrogative manner.

Kyungsoo waftures at him. In class, he tries not to doodle heart-shaped faces on spitballs. He notices something though.

Chanyeol’s hair is prickling on end.

…

Four days into not-really-talking but acknowledging-your-presence, Kyungsoo is tired to his bones. He’s been lying to Baekhyun for the past week… no, the past five years now ever since he’s known him and he’s tired, so tired the skin on his meat feels like falling off.

That is why when Sehun runs into him, he doesn’t turn away. Guess the loneliness came knocking, because his heart stops beating the moment Sehun looks at him.

Sehun says, “Hyung,” and something coils in the pit of Kyungsoo’s heart.

“Hey,” he says, not really looking at Sehun but watching the way his scar glistens with sweat.

“How are you?”

“Good. Passed the last three exams with flying colours. You?”

Sehun doesn’t answer immediately. Kyungsoo realises there are video games in his hands. Sehun smiles, “I miss you, hyung,” and it takes all Kyungsoo’s strength to stop the trembling in his jarring legs as he leans over.

“I… Me too, Sehun,” he says, and when Sehun presses him to his heart, the tears feel like a warm brush of steady rivers running down his face.

…

Sehun leaves his towel on the heater, drops of water shining on the expanse of his back as he twists and turns to get under the blankets. Under them it’s mellow like the skin of Kyungsoo’s palm as it sweeps over his scalp, drawing empty hearts into flesh. Outside it’s raining but this fort they’ve built will keep them safe if the storm comes ripping the concrete stuck in these walls out. When the storm’s gone, Kyungsoo will make Sehun some bulgoggi and bubble tea, video game consoles still in hand. Sehun will smile at him and Kyungsoo will wonder, is this all they really are, breaking hearts behind faint smiles? Too heavy feelings on chest, still laughing, hiding behind hard-faced masks of denial? Wonders, when will all this come to an end but he can’t find answers accurate enough.

Sehun says then, his voice soft at the corners: “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Kyungsoo says. He wants to say he doesn’t need him anymore, that he’s better off without him, but he doesn’t want to watch Sehun fall.

Something rings in his ears, more like you don’t want to watch yourself fall, and maybe he doesn’t want to deny it. Sehun is so still against him. Right now, he’s not a river.

It prickles against his ribs when Sehun loses Kyungsoo’s name on his lips. He’s close, hands already darting out to smooth down the creases on Kyungsoo’s shirt. Kyungsoo seems lost, back hunched and knees bent and he leans away, just a little when Sehun appears to be too close to him. He doesn’t know if he wants Sehun’s lips on his skin yet, if he wants to let the reins go. Sehun is too free for him, too loose around Kyungsoo’s fingers when he tangles them in his hair, yesterday night’s shampoo mixed with smoke and filth and something that is undeniably Sehun. Apples. Sehun smells like apples and Kyungsoo can feel it on his mouth when Sehun goes impatient and slides a hand to Kyungsoo’s nape. Sehun’s breath hits the roof of his teeth and Kyungsoo smiles, just barely at the tension in the other’s fingers.

It’s Sehun who moves in and it’s Sehun who leaves his saliva trailing along Kyungsoo’s lips when he pulls away. It’s drying off on Kyungsoo’s skin and it’s only heat that Kyungsoo feels on his limbs. Kyungsoo swears Sehun is hotter than a thousand suns together, brighter than Icarus in the middle of nothing but blackness and yet he’s really just some water flowing through valleys and boring into you at the end.

Sehun waits and Kyungsoo knows what he’s waiting for. Reassurance; a flick of tongue or a simple flash of eyes, maybe Kyungsoo’s fingers slipping under his shirt but they’re already in his hair. Kyungsoo pulls on it until they’re a heartbeat apart and Kyungsoo keeps his eyes open briefly, watching how Sehun melts into his touch. He moans, not that loud but still vociferous enough for Kyungsoo to hear him and all Kyungsoo can think about is chills chills chills.

Sehun moves in even closer, one knee bumping into Kyungsoo’s other. Kyungsoo ponders about the reins he has to hold tight but they’re already gone, Sehun’s hands running down his torso faster than lightning to finger the end of his shirt and the rubber band of his boxers, just above Kyungsoo’s tract of skin all warm and white.

Slowing down then picking a quicker pace up, Kyungsoo realises Sehun is both a wild river running through mountains right now and a quiet little lake in the middle of a meadow where only sunflowers bloom, hands ever so fast skipping over his ribcage and chest and then faltering. He counts to three and then slides again, bony knuckles stone-hard against Kyungsoo’s stomach.

Kyungsoo likes this boldness but wishes Sehun could be a lake for ten more minutes, touches soft and careful down his navel instead of being rough and tough.

And then it suddenly stops, Sehun withdrawing from Kyungsoo, hands losing their grip on Kyungsoo’s waist. Voice hoarse, Sehun says, “I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I know I went too far,” but Kyungsoo doesn’t want any of it. He’s been acting like a coward ever since Sehun and Lu Han met, and maybe, he’ll have to let the reins go. He will have to let Sehun flow between his ribs with such ease, sweeping through his skin and finally reaching his heart where he stays unbidden but still.

“No,” Kyungsoo says, Sehun letting his vacantness flood into Kyungsoo and leave its impressions along the windowsill. “Sehun,” Kyungsoo breathes, voice fading, “I want you now,” and it almost sounds like a promise.

Sehun seems thorn, one hand itching to reach out and the other pulling away, eyes big and wild and somewhat hopeless. Tired. Sehun is tired and Kyungsoo has known it right from the moment he started to push his boundaries. Hands coming up to rest against each side of Sehun’s jaw, Kyungsoo brings him closer, between them only the smell of apples and raw skin and rain, and right now Sehun is not a river but a lake, washing his tides over Kyungsoo without really meaning to.

“I’m going to keep you floating,” Kyungsoo says when Sehun’s fingers start to haul different kinds of moulds along his ribcage.

Then Kyungsoo kisses Sehun and it’s nothing like their kisses before because this time, Kyungsoo lets Sehun really flood into him. Sehun heaves a sigh, slowly ripping from his chest and it’s nice and it’s easy, Sehun’s lips paper-light on Kyungsoo’s own. Kyungsoo thinks about Jongin burning down his walls but now Sehun is patching them up together, superglue stinting between the cracks.

Moments later, they are all just spent limbs squeezed together, raindrops rolling down the glass beside them and clashing against the ledge.

…

Jongin shows up on Monday and knocks his mineral water over Kyungsoo’s notebooks. Water stills along the rives and then dries out later, paper waving against the table.

Jongin laughs and when his eyes close, some flames start to edge their way around the corner and parch Kyungsoo’s fingertips. Chanyeol cackles at Joonmyun when he’s rolling his eyes.

Baekhyun says, “Good you’re back,” and flicks Jongin’s head in a loving way. Jongin snickers, says he wants to have pizza for lunch, and then everything is vivid and happy again until Lu Han walks in.

Sehun looks at Kyungsoo and smiles. It reaches his eyes.

Under the table, when no one sees, Sehun’s hands come up to wring around Kyungsoo’s knuckles.

The hurt in Kyungsoo’s fingertips is gone.

…

By the time summer starts, Kyungsoo learns how to be fast enough to follow Sehun when he’s running. Sehun is quick but not too quick for Kyungsoo now, hands locking together between them and swinging. Sehun kisses a bruise into Kyungsoo’s mouth when they’ve slowed down, sun beating down their backs and it burns, skin too white to bear the heat. Maybe later they’ll burn but Sehun will kiss it better and it’ll be alright.

…

Kyungsoo has metes and boundaries, but that doesn’t mean Sehun shouldn’t keep him floating.

a/n: i'm still alive!! guess you never thought i'd write anything exo, right? i'm pretty surprised myself... 

this little something was written yesterday night and was finished today, so it's really really rushed but i haven't written anything since february i guess (?) and i missed writing so much i just couldn't stop myself from posting it

sorry

do you even remember me still?