Title: there's a tint to your voice (and it's singing me to sleep)
Pairing: Baekhyun/Jongin
Genre: fluff(?), comfort (just slightly, like difference between yellow green and lime green slightly), blind!Jongin
Rating: G
Summary: Jongin dreams in what he thinks are colors every time Baekhyun is nearby.

based on the prompt sooxingsic gave me:
KaiBaek fluff/comfort involving Kai being blind and Baehyun giving out hugs

            Often, Jongin finds that he is quite helplessly alone.

            Contrary to the popular belief, it is not because he has never seen pigment in his life before or because he knows no visage without feeling it first, but rather because of how vastly empty his dreams are when he closes his eyes to greet true darkness. Being born blind had never occurred too great of a problem to him, not even when people constantly watch their steps around him lest he shatter or break, but the nervous restlessness inside him never fails to paint his usually blank canvas a somber blue – a color he does not know, but can feel somewhere deep in his bones.

            When he sleeps, Jongin does not dream in color. Instead, the elaborate ones are in vivid voices, ones he has heard often and others he has more to hear from. The simple ones are silent, and Jongin imagines himself propped up by the wall connected to his bed as he listens to the minute sounds he has come to pay close attention to: the water leaking from a faucet single droplet at a time, the slight drag of curtain on the windows as a breeze flitters by. He wonders about colors and how great they must be that nearly everything concrete is described to him in them. The couch is gray, they say, the walls are ivory, and the recorder he uses at work is charcoal. The world is bursting with this abstract mystery called color, but Jongin does not understand a thing at all.

            He doesn’t mind much though, not being able to imagine a green or red in his head. What he does mind are the few occasional, harmless nightmares that leave his palms sweating when he wakes up.

            Sometimes, when he sleeps, there is absolutely nothing. In these dreams he calls the shadows, Jongin finds himself suspended in a never-ending expanse of air with no ground under his feet and nothing else to tell him where he is, if he is even floating upright or upside down. The first panic comes when he feels the wisps and trails of wind weaving through his fingers with nothing to grasp. Then he realizes that he is not exactly standing on anything, that there is no form of support under his feet. He has no way of knowing whether he is levitated in the high altitude of the sky or in the deep ends of an abyss, and it frightens him when he cannot have a clear idea of where he exactly is. He cannot help but be consumed by the fast thumping in his chest whenever these dreams occur because there is no one in this shade of darkness that is able to guild him, lead him, or help him out. He is in a territory no one else understands, and this is what gets him trembling: the idea of getting lost someplace where no one can find him.

            “Jongin!”

           A familiar voice breaks his sound slumber and in a rush of flooding seconds, the sheets under him feel rumpled. There is a faint smell of coffee in the air, and Jongin flinches when a body rolls onto the bed and leans in to poke him.

            “Yo, Nini, wake up! Don’t wanna be late to work, right?”

            A groan leaves Jongin’s pressed, plump lips as he lifts the covers over his head and twists. “Up, I’m up…”

            “Breakfast is in the kitchen. It’ll be there every day from now on, just so you know,” his roommate starting yesterday says, and Jongin pushes his cover down.

            “What? Why? You don’t have t–”

            “Hey, I may be a little on the poor side, but I know how to be thankful,” Baekhyun says, and he ruffles Jongin’s already messy bed hair. “Now rise, Golden One.”

            Jongin hates the nickname their mentor dubbed him, but he doesn’t complain because a) he is too sleepy and b) it’s Baekhyun that just called him that. He doesn’t know what it is about the older that makes it okay to cross certain boundaries he has set for everyone else, but after spending so much time in the recording studio with him, Jongin finds that there is a small portion of his heart that beats a tiny beat for Baekhyun.

            Usually lethargic mornings are rushed under the care of Baekhyun, who hugs him from behind as he brushes his teeth and speaks words of encouragement to power them both throughout the day. Baekhyun is just a really active hugger, everyone knows this, and Jongin would have been okay with it if he didn’t actually blush up from the touches. Apparently the older thinks Jongin requires more skin-to-skin contact than the rest because he needs guidance wherever he steps, and Jongin can’t find himself to correct him. He can navigate his way just fine through years of experience, but Jongin finds he needs the hugs to warm him up every day, so he doesn’t say a word. He just tries not to make his butterflies too obvious when Baekhyun holds him, and hides his burning cheeks.

            The walk to the studio is unnerving on Jongin’s part, mostly because Baekhyun holds his hand (“I’m a better walking stick”) and because he’s never been this close to Baekhyun before. He tries not to think that this is some kind of special treatment because Baekhyun is always touchy feely with everyone around him, but it still makes his heart flutter and he leaves it be because there isn’t much he can do after all. Sometimes, he wants to run his hands over the curves of Baekhyun’s face to know what he looks like, but he’s a little nervous of what he might find. He puts trust in Baekhyun’s cheery voice anyway.

            There’s a limited amount of factors Jongin can really judge from about a person, and the first is probably the voice. It’s the first handshake that greets him, really, so he depends a lot on it for first impressions. Baekhyun’s voice is kind of  like cotton candy, light in all the right places and sweet in much the rest, and it lilts into Jongin’s ears easily. The first time he realizes he holds affection for the older is actually when he starts to filter out conversations and hears Baekhyun loudest amongst the rest. Jongin thinks there is a special speck of tone in Baekhyun’s voice that makes the others around him feel elated, a teasing crinkle of eyes when he smiles though he cannot see it to prove his theory, and a beautiful laugh to match it. There is no definite way to say, it, but put shortly, Jongin believes Baekhyun is nothing short of perfect.

            “I actually love the new soundtrack that came out for this scene.”

            Jongin nods as Baekhyun leans into him and brings a hand over to the CD. The smooth disk slides under his fingers.

            “Think you can pull it off?” Baekhyun asks, and Jongin shoves him playfully.

            “Of course, you’re quite easy to imitate, you know,” he replies, and Baekhyun gasps in mock offense before snuggling closer to him on the sofa during their break. Jongin hopes he isn’t smiling too obviously as he cozies himself up.

            It’s an interesting job, quite frankly, that Jongin has. He is a certified voice actor, but, as Baekhyun says, he’s more of a voice singer. He does not do voiceovers of animations because he cannot see the characters talking, but instead imitates the voiceovers of other actors and plays as a singer for them. If there is a voice actor who cannot sing, Jongin is there to mimic his voice and belt notes. The only thing he can really depend on is the alterations he can apply to his voice, but Jongin believes this isn’t all that strange because he’s spent all his life focusing in on the different tones of the human voice. Since young, he had followed and repeated the dialogue around his house as a form of play, and the first sense of pride had hit him when he’d used his mother’s voice to call his father down to dinner. The baffled old man had chuckled in genuine surprise to find his son downstairs with no meal, and from then a dream sprouted within him.

            It’s a happy life, Jongin thinks, because he gets paid for something he loves doing. It’s a great miracle that he’s so good at something he wants to spend his whole life doing as he knows many people who struggle between the seesaw of happiness and success. It will be an even happier life, he adds, if Baekhyun would please hug him to sleep sometimes. Now that they are roommates, Jongin likes to think this is a great possible in his life, but he knows it’s one that he has a rather hard time reaching. He never stops hoping, though. He wants Baekhyun to notice.

            Three nights later, the dream recurs. Jongin fidgets in his sheets, tangling his hair and frizzing it up as he rubs it violently against his pillow. A suffocating surge of pressure knocks the wind out of his lungs, leaving in a burst of microscopic particles, silently choking him. The endless expanse of absolute nothing sinks down on his flesh, and Jongin jolts in a rough spasm in bed.

            “Hey – hey, Jongin – are you okay?”

            Arms wrap comfortingly, protectively around him, and Jongin wheezes out a strangled breath as he swims up from the depths of his dream. There is sweat beading every inch of his forehead and his shirt sticks disgustingly to his back.

            “Shh, you’re okay now, I’ve got you,” Baekhyun reassures, the back of Jongin’s head to smooth down his frayed hair. He soothingly rubs his nape in circular motion.

            Adrenaline seeps out of Jongin’s pores little wisps at a time, and he lets the warmth of Baekhyun envelope him and coax him back to reality. There is a bed under him, he knows, because the gravity feels especially strong under his sides, his skin sensitive to touch in the rush of things.

            “You’re okay,” Baekhyun says again, and he rests his chin on Jongin’s head to calm him. The younger thinks he can feel the rapid thumping of Baekhyun’s heart; he must have been surprised.

            “S-Sorry,” he apologizes, for waking him up and for worrying him. He feels extremely small right now, legs slightly curled inwards as he fights the urge to ball up.

            “It’s fine. Everything’s okay,” Baekhyun tells him as he rubs his back, leaving trails of calmness there. “Does that… happen a lot? These nightmare things – I didn’t even know you had them.”

            “K-Kind of,” Jongin manages to say, still struggling with his breath. His lungs slowly come down from the shock when he becomes aware of the close proximity they are in. “It’s… It’s just one of those childhood things that never go away. It’s nothing, really.”

            Baekhyun holds him closer and nods in understanding. Jongin is grateful that someone is here with him.

            “Don’t worry, everyone has those,” he replies, and he draws the blankets closer around them. “Even I do, truth be told.”

            “… You do?” Jongin asks, heart now hushed. He searches for Baekhyun’s hand in the dark.

            “Yeah. I’m afraid of all kinds of things.” Their fingers graze each other, and Baekhyun intertwines them together. “I think it’s kind of why I hug people so much.”

            Jongin wiggles a little ways up so that his shoulder bumps against Baekhyun’s. He’s not sure if the older is looking at him, but he does feel a gaze.

            “I think it’s scary to be left behind,” Baekhyun explains, thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of Jongin’s hand. It’s the thumb thing, Jongin thinks, and he knows he’s blushing a little because Baekhyun’s touches make a tickle of warmth ignite in his chest.

            “Why?”

            “I don’t know, I think it’s something that came from when I was little. My parents split you see, two days after my seventh birthday. I lived with my mom, and she was always busy with something. She had a hard time providing for us both with just one job, so she started taking up all the night shifts she could find so that she could pack me lunch every day.”

            Jongin leans into Baekhyun and their foreheads meet, the sweat now dried. He trails a hand up and shyly lays a finger on Baekhyun’s jaw, letting the soft skin underneath register in his receptors.

            “I ended up having to tuck myself to sleep alone every night, and I got scared because I started to imagine things. You know, typical kid things: What if my mom never comes back? What if there’s a fire and nobody knows? What if some robber snakes in and decides to kill me because I’m a witness? I don’t know; it’s kind of ridiculous when I think about it now, but you know those crazy thoughts, right? I’m sure you’ve had them too.”

            Jongin nods and Baekhyun’s hair ruffles under him.

            “Anyway, I just developed this sort of fear of being forgotten by the person I depended on most, and it keeps me anxious even today. I hug people to let them know I’m here, that I’ll always be there to wrap a protective pair of arms around them. It’s like a way of coping, I guess? Who knows, right? The way human emotions work is kind of strange.”

            “Yeah,” Jongin says, nose brushing against Baekhyun’s. “I feel the same sometimes.”

            “Feels good to know someone knows what I feel,” Baekhyun replies, and Jongin thinks there might be a small smile on his face. His heartbeat rises in his chest in a loud volume of pitter-patters.

            “Red,” Baekhyun chuckles then, a light jump to his voice. Jongin pauses in confusion. “It’s the color of your face right now.”

            “I d-don’t know what red is,” Jongin denies although it’s technically true, shying away from how close Baekhyun’s voice sounds in his ear.

            Soft skin brushes by his lips, and he wonders if they're Baekhyun’s lips. It comes and goes in such a short second that Jongin freezes in a frenzied bafflement.

            “… W-What was that?” Jongin asks, because he’s never kissed anyone before and he doesn’t know what it’s supposed to feel like on his skin. His heart palpitates much too rapidly for his taste and his voice drops to an almost whisper. He’s almost afraid to ask any further.

            “What did you think it was?” Baekhyun says in that tone again, the one that’s got Jongin wanting to feel for that smirk he knows is there.

            “… I’m not sure,” Jongin shies away from the answer, teeth biting into his upper lip. A thumb comes to ease it out, though, and then there’s another fleeting touch of skin on his lips. It’s a little different this time, a little wide and it doesn’t fit over the grooves.

            “T-That one was different,” he frowns just slightly, puzzled.

            “What do you think that one was?”

            “I don’t think those were your… lips… right?”

            “Why? Were you expecting my lips?”

            Jongin falls quiet after the question, loud pounding vibrating in his ears. He squirms away in embarrassment.

            It’s a heart-stopper when hands close around his shoulders, dragging him into a warm body. Baekhyun kisses him for real this time, and Jongin thinks that yes, this is the thing he felt first, the slight dippings and the perfect amount of pressure. His breath hitches as Baekhyun wraps him in a complete hug, bringing him closer as he gently kisses him. Fingers desperately tangle into the arm of Baekhyun’s shirt, gripping the fabric. Jongin feels a little light.

            “R-Red, huh?” he stutters out when Baekhyun lets him go, face heating up with a burst of colors. “I’m red, I’m so red. God, this is just…”

            “Pink,” Baekhyun chuckles, and he pecks his nose. “A little more endearing, that is.”

            When Jongin falls into the comfortable embrace Baekhyun provides, the corners of his lips tug softly towards his ears. Sleep washes kindly over him, and in his dream, there is someone there to keep him company. It’s Baekhyun, or what Jongin thinks he must look like, and he’s holding a red rose. It’s not something he can quite describe, this idea of color, but he ties them to emotions and labels them with the rapid beating of his heart. Baekhyun teaches him how to paint the world in beautiful hues, and for the first time, he realizes the shadows are not tints of darkness at all. They are rather empty transparencies, vast areas in which Jongin has yet to color. Baekhyun helps him step by step though, pigment by subtle pigment. He thinks maybe it’s not so bad after all, these dreams of his, because now there is someone who hugs him goodnight and holds him hello. There is a cushion he can fall on, and a lullaby that rocks him to sleep. For the first time in his life, Jongin feels complete.

1, 2 Go to sleep, now wipe those tears and don’t be afraid

3, 4 It upsets my heart to see you toss and turn

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow

I promise everything will be better than today.

Have a good, good night*

*song lyrics from TVXQ's Good Night