Title: I Packed You Love for Lunch
Pairing: Kyungsoo/Sehun
Genre: brother!au, slice of life (?)
Rating: G
Summary: To Sehun, his older brother Kyungsoo is and always will be, the best shoulder to lean on.

originally posted on my livejournal (side journal to  be exact - here's the main one)
+ wrote this bc a friend of mine (jane - show her some love, she's a beginning writer on aff) wanted a sesoo brother!au all of a sudden and brother!au anything is gold so i wrote her an impromptu drabble via kakao & cleaned it up like this.

Kyungsoo measures his love for Sehun in bento boxes: Every school morning, he prepares with his small hands one neat square of rice padded into a plastic container with aluminum foils wrapped around bite-size sausages and spam. He knows it's not the healthiest meal choice for a five year-old, but it's what Sehun likes and what his baby brother likes, Kyungsoo can't help but give.

When he takes Sehun to preschool, Kyungsoo hoists him up by his toddler arms and cradles him in front of his bike seat, laughing at the way his little brother hands him his backpack to put in the straw basket in front. Kyungsoo had hesitated when buying this bicycle, contemplating between a navy blue, thin-wheeled racing one (the one he'd wanted) and a sky blue one with a basket (because it'd been the one Sehun said "Hyung, look!" to), but his brother had run up and stuck his lunch box right where he'd wanted to cast his vote and - well, Kyungsoo couldn't have gone against Sehun even if he'd tried.

"Hyung, can Jongin come over today?" Sehun asks, glancing up to peek at him. He squints when the sun's rays beam into his eyes. "I told him my hyung makes the best ddukbokki and he said he doesn't believe me."

"Today?" Kyungsoo asks, adjusting the straps on his own backpack. "Sure. Just make sure to tell him to ask his parents for permission first, okay?"

"Okay," Sehun replies with a nod. He is always so chipper and cherubic; that's what Kyungsoo loves most about him. It's been a while since he's forgotten how to be this happy on his own so his brother is a heartwarming reminder that people aren't lying when they say they have a reason to live. Smiling, Kyungsoo ruffles his soft brown hair in affection then kicks off, biking his way toward his own preschool, the one his father had used to bike him to himself when he'd been alive.

When Jongin comes over that day, a rowdy friend of Sehun's who sticks his hand out at Kyungsoo whenever he gets sauce on his fingers ("Clean," he orders, and Kyungsoo does, albeit with a frown), Kyungsoo earns a mean slap to the face.

"How can I trust such a young boy to take care of my baby?" Jongin's mother says when the night is fast appoaching, darkness already slithering down the sidewalks. Kyungsoo just stares down with a clenched jaw and shoos Sehun indoors. Shrinking, his brother hides his tail between his legs and stalks into the safety of his room.

"Your mother should be ashamed of herself," she says, those bitter words stinging as always. He's gotten used to these judgemental mothers telling him directly and indirectly that his mother is neglecting, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. He knows he doesn't have parents who come to Back-to-school night and he knows they've never attended his Christmas performances. He knows Sehun doesn't have a parent he can proudly walk to school with on "Bring Your Parent to School Day" when Jongin brings his CEO father. He knows.

When Jongin's mother has finished her prideful finger-pointing, her son leaves without saying bye to Sehun even if he is his friend. No one ever tries to defend them; they're too much trouble and much too big of an infection for someone to take under his or her wing. As Kyungsoo quietly walks into his room, he tries to will the wetness in his eyes to sink back where they belong. In his room, his little brother lies huddled under the covers.

"Sehun, didn't I tell you to make sure Jongin got permission first?" he asks, drawing the blankets back. Sitting down on the creaky bed, Kyungsoo watches Sehun sit up and look down at the floor in shame.

"He said he did... I told him 'my hyung said so' and he said 'okay then, my mom said so, okay?' He said his mom knew..."

Kyungsoo draws his knees up and leans his red cheek on them, still hot from the stinging slap. It's so hard to stay positive when people don't even try to understand their side of the story. A strong clenching settles over his heart because he is reminded yet again that Sehun has always lived like this; at least he remembers their father. His brother has no one to lean on, even in his memories.

"... Are you mad at me, hyung?" Sehun peeps, glancing up. Kyungsoo shakes his head and pats his brother's back.

"No, it's not your fault Sehun. You're a good boy; I know."

Sehun looks like he's going to say something, but he stands up instead with a height barely leaning over Kyungsoo's crouched figure, and kisses a tiny apology onto his open cheek.

"Hyung is a good hyung, too. I know," he says, and gives him a nod. Because Kyungsoo is the only one he knows with his heart, he is always on his side.

* * * * *

When Sehun is enrolled into elementary school, Kyungsoo packs him extra sausages and spam to tell him he is a big boy now. He himself graduates middle school and learns the neck-breaking, body-breaking pains of late night study sessions to keep his class rank up, but he always wakes up extra early to pack Sehun lunch.

First grade and second grade are easy like that. But when Sehun becomes a third grader, he comes home with his lunch untouched.

"Sehun, is something wrong? You didn't eat your lunch again," he comments as he eats Sehun's leftover lunch himself. He pushes the new side dishes over to his brother's side of the table but stops when he sees that Sehun looks uninterested. "... Should I pack you something else instead?" he asks.

His brother just sits there without a hint of reply, pursed lips keeping whatever displeasures trapped tight and an angry, frustrated sort of frown wrinkling his forehead.

"Is everything okay?" Kyungsoo asks, chewing slower. He sets his chopsticks down and leans on his elbows.

As if he wants to throw a fit, Sehun stands up from his seat and throws his chopsticks down on the floor. Kyungsoo stares with wide eyes at the radical behavior. Sehun has never shown this kind of temper before.

"I hate spam," he says, finally steaming. "I hate sausages and I hate lunch from home, okay?"

He stomps away from the table with a deep fissure cracked down his personality and Kyungsoo sits there for a moment in stunned silence, blinking as the words sink deeper every time he repeats them in his head. When he has swallowed what he can and cleaned the rest of the table, he finds Sehun in their mother's room, still visibly fuming. The walls reek emptiness like they haven't occupied the proper owner in a long time and they suffocate Kyungsoo inch by closing inch. Their mother never really comes home, just keeps the money pouch in the living room filled for whatever Kyungsoo needs the money for, and it frustrates him to come into this room. But despite the wishes he dares not whisper about the mending of their relationship, he is always thankful that she even cares to hand him a budget.

"Sehun," he calls, keeping his voice calm as always. His little brother doesn't even twitch in his solid position in bed, back toward him as his small fingernails pick at the wall stained yellow from the toxic cigarettes frequently smoked by their mother. Kyungsoo sits down at the edge where his back arches humbly and looks down at his hands. "You're gonna have to tell me what's wrong so I know how to make things better. Do you not want me to pack you lunch anymore?"

Sehun bites his swollen upper lip, nibbling it slightly just the way Kyungsoo does himself when he's nervous or finicky.

"If you don't like my cooking, it's okay to tell me," Kyungsoo says. "I know I'm not the best cook and that I'm not as good as umma, so if that's-"

"Umma's food tastes bad," Sehun cuts before Kyungsoo can finish. "I hate umma."

Kyungsoo feels his nametag heavy on his chest, like it is a representation of all the responsibilities he has carried from the day his father had passed away. The school uniform he never has time to take off before bedtime has never been without a grease stain, caused by the splatters of oil when he cooks Sehun's favorite sausages and spam. His fingers prune too easily when he runs them under water because he's washed so many dishes already, has done so many rounds of laundry that have jaded his young hands. He spends hours scrubbing dirt off under his shoes because he wants to buy Sehun better ones and wear his out more. He makes sure to check Sehun's homework after the boy has fallen asleep and irons his uniform so that his brother will look nice. He works so hard to offer his best, so backbreakingly that he is too tired to iron out his own uniform before he goes to sleep, but his efforts are not enough. He is still not enough.

"Jongin's mom packs him yakbab and jjigae and chobab," Sehun starts, voice tight, "Tao's mom even made him baozi once. They brag all the time: My mom made me this. My mom made me that. But I only have spam and sausages!"

Kyungsoo sighs and runs a hand through his floppy hair. "Sehun, that's what I pack you because that's what you like," he says. "When I make all those side dishes for you to eat at dinner, you only eat spam and sausages."

Sehun stays silent.

"Your friends are lucky, you know; their parents buy them lots of nice clothes and toys and pack them lots of different lunches. But you don't have to be jealous," Kyungsoo says. "Tell me truthfully: Do you really hate the lunch I pack you?"

He rubs at a cut under the side of his index fingernail, the raw skin pink and swollen from a knife accident earlier when he'd been chopping mushrooms to put in the dwenjang jjigae. It stings and makes a droplet of water gather at the corner of his eyes, a parallel kind of pain. There is a ruffle behind him and Sehun sits ajdacent, tears suddenly streaming. He doesn't embarrass his brother and lets him cry. "You don't have to pretend to hate something you like just because your friends like something else, Sehun. We're simple but we like living that way, don't we? Sure, I can't make yakbab and pack you warm food because insulator containers are expensive, but you don't like your food hot anyway. You don't even like yakbab."

Sehun wipes at his face with his stretched sleeves and Kyungsoo looks at his brother who's chest is heaving with staggered breaths from crying. Then and now, forever and always, Sehun is his baby brother. When the boy continues to sob, Kyungsoo gives in.

"Come here," he says, and draws out his arms wide, waiting for Sehun. His brother sniffles as he carefully wraps his arms around his waist, hiccupping into his chest. Kyungsoo holds his brother tight and runs a comforting hand through his hair. "You're all I've got Sehun," he reminds him, hugging him close, "so don't make me sad like this, okay?" He rocks his brother softly as he pats his back in a gentle rhythm. The hiccups stop and he feels Sehun nod.

As always, his brother doesn't know how to say that one word "sorry", but Kyungsoo understands the apology all the same. He can know with just the simplest glint in his eyes, the smallest twitch that betrays all the darkness Sehun tries to hide. If he doesn't understand Sehun, who will? Squeezing his brother's shoulder, Kyungsoo reassures him that everything is okay. And he forgives, because the greatest scars come from the people he loves most and he will always be okay with that.

He will always love Sehun, because his brother is always on his side.

a/n: sehun brother!au's are the funnest things to write omfg; i wish i could write a whole series with sehun as the little brother of each of the exo members ;~;