Title: Stardust

Pairing: KaiSoo

Rating: PG-13

Length:  3,300 Words

Genres: Romance

Summary: Jong In thinks that Kyung Soo might secretly consider him a star, but no, he’s wrong. Because Kyung Soo thinks that he’s so much more. Imagine Callisto.

Note: Callisto is one of the planet Jupiter's four moons. It's pretty as . Play the song below to set the mood. HAHAHA XD 

Warning: Un-betaed, as usual. OTL

 

===

 

Like a rabbit in headlights

They’re stunned by all your charm

And I feel so damn lucky

To have you on my arm

 

And I can’t help but wonder

How we ended up alright

And I love you like no other

Cause this has never felt so right

 

You can keep me warm on a cold night

Warm on a cold cold night

You can keep me warm on a cold night

Warm on a cold cold night

 

[Warm on a cold night]

 

===

 

 

[90% of your body mass is stardust, because all elements except for hydrogen and helium are created in stars]

 

Do Kyung Soo

 

Kyung Soo found it funny how Jong In had considered his way of speech and thinking to be that of a romantic. Like how he always compared life with facts, because that was how it will have to be, facts were made out basing on life, and Kyung Soo was a man that lived on facts.

 

Sometimes, Kyung Soo tended to confuse himself. Over thinking small matters that were insignificant, but Jong In would figure him out almost immediately, that, or he would greedily misinterpret his words as romantic sentiment which was pretty absurd. 

 

But then one day, he told this to Jong In.

 

He told him that –

 

“90% of our body mass is actually stardust, Jong In-nie, because all elements except for hydrogen and helium are created in stars.” Kyung Soo said that to Jong In when they were on the couch, skin slick with sweat and Jong In had lain his head on Kyung Soo’s chest. The position was awkward because Jong In was bigger than Kyung Soo, but it was warm, he felt safe.

 

“Are you calling me a star then, Kyung Soo-yah?” Jong In had looked up with his usual soft eyes, lids hooded and smile, cheeky.

 

“Quite the contrary, actually. I am merely stating a fact.” Kyung Soo defended because he had never meant to compare such fact with Jong In. Star? Too generic. That was preposterous. Jong In was the galaxy, the supernova, the Milky Way. He was no mere star. More than that, surely. Kyung Soo preferred specificity. Rather than a star, why not the four moons of the Jupiter combined? Maybe Callisto, if he had to choose one? Kyung Soo liked Callisto. They twinkled just like Jong In’s eyes.

 

But then the younger male had smiled, eyes crinkled up into crescent shape that the elder had come to grudgingly love very much and all thought of arguments ceased almost immediately.

 

“It’s okay, I’ll pretend I’m right.”

 

Kyung Soo had closed his eyes then.

 

Because it felt so surreal.

 

Loving Kim Jong In was like a miracle.

 

===

 

Kyung Soo thought that the world sometimes didn’t make sense, worked in a strange way and coming up with stranger truth. Like how every human essentially was female when they were formed before they then had their genes shifted into that of a male or stayed to that of a female as the embryo grew and the foetus was formed. Then there was actually the fact that the colour Pink don’t actually exist in the universe, it was basically white light without the green colour.

 

Such strange ways, but that was how things worked.

 

“Do you know, Jong In-nie, that when two people kiss, they exchange between 10 million to 1 billion bacteria.”

 

“Then aren’t we a pile of disgusting things then?”

 

“We are, and yet, it is highly confusing how we can never deny ourselves such pleasure.”

 

“Wahh, you’re actually admitting that you like kissing me!”

 

“I am not implying such a thing, I am merely stating a fact, do not put words into my mouth.”

 

“Thank you, Kyung Soo-yah.”

 

The memories of everything, to this day, were still vividly clear in his head, because who could’ve ever forgotten anything about such a beautiful man? Kyung Soo looked up from the dining table, away from the white light of his laptop to see another male sitting on the white couch in their living room. His expression was that of serenity; soft smile and soft eyes as his long fingers traced the screen of his handphone.

 

He did it on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday until Sunday. 

 

Because he didn’t remember.

 

He can’t remember.

 

Like how he will walk into the groceries store and bought cereals every day, coming home with a proud smile and gave them to Kyung Soo. They were out of them last twelve Sundays and Kim Jong In was living in the same day.

 

“Kyung Soo-yah, I bought the cereals so don’t worry!”

 

There were a total of eighty-seven boxes of corn flakes tucked on the shelves in the store room. All placed neatly because that was where they would forever be. Only Kyung Soo liked cereals. Jong In was the type of person who usually skipped breakfast and splurge on lunch and dinner, ending up with instant noodles in the middle of the night.

 

They had a fight about it before.

 

Young lovers they were, so foolishly in love, the world hadn’t meant anything.

 

Kyung Soo never liked such lifestyle and yet, he always felt uselessly flustered when Jong In smiled his almost shy smile, hand sheepishly holding his as they stood together by the balcony, both foolish and in love. In this part of the city, the light pollution was quite bad, rendering the stars to be invisible at night, but Jong In never let go.

 

Jong In never left his side, so stupidly loyal that even before anything had even changed between them twenty-one months ago, when the elder broke his leg one fateful evening when he fell down the stairs at the lab he worked, he never let go.

 

That was the first time Jong In had said he loved him.

 

Twenty-one weeks ago.

 

Kyung Soo had just being discharged and ego prevented him from allowing the nurse to push him onto the wheelchair. Jong In had offered too –to push the chair for him. But Kyung Soo had always been a fool, despite the trophies and certificates of achievement kept at home.

 

He remembered how hard the crutches were as he rested his weight onto it, cushioned handles under his armpit and feet cemented. Jong In had ridden the wheelchair then, smiling from next to him as he slowly rolled the chair with Kyung Soo’s duffel bag on his lap.

 

“Like this, we can pretend that both of us broke our legs.” Jong In’s smile was dazzling back then, its shades and brilliance never changed. Callisto. Kyung Soo had only grunted. “Of course.”

 

Jong In didn’t own a car. His stepmother wasn’t that fond of him and his father never had cared ever since Jong In’s two step sisters were born thirteen years ago. Jong In was only nine at that time, small hands clutching Kyung Soo’s as they watched Smurfs.  

 

Jong In and Kyung Soo used to be neighbours back then, still was, until Kyung Soo moved to the city and proposed for them to live together. That had resulted in prolonged love making, and lingering kisses. But that was eight weeks after he broke his leg, Kyung Soo was mixing everything up.

 

“Kyung Soo-yah, I think it’s weird how I think you are still handsome despite that oily hair and sour face.” Jong In had told him from the wheelchair and Kyung Soo remembered greasy hair and the smell of hospital.

 

“Yet, you slept next to me nightly despite the stiff sofa.” Kyung Soo groaned and the lobby was bustling with few walk-in patients. Receptionists directing which floor the paediatricians were, telling patients that Dr Lee’s clinic was on the 4^th floor and so forth.   

 

Kyung Soo didn’t think he would forget the soft smile and the hesitant touch on his forearm as they waited at the taxi stand.

 

“I love you.”

 

Kyung Soo regretted that it took him six weeks after such confession to respond.

 

“Maybe I love you too.”

 

And now, months later, Kyung Soo stood from the dining table, closed the lid of his laptop and walked over to the white couch. Jong In was quiet, face confused as he studied the handphone in his hand.

 

Temporary amnesia, the doctor had told him.

 

“It’s the impact from the accident, you see. Nothing too bad, he’ll be normal again soon, just give it some time.”

 

“Hey, Jong In-ah,” Jong In looked up when Kyung Soo placed his palm over broad shoulder. His face still looked as handsome as it did two years ago, eyes beautiful in almond shape and naive.

 

Kyung Soo leaned down and pecked his lover’s lips.

 

“I love you, never forget that.”

 

===

 

[The Titanic was the first ship to use SOS signal]

 

Kyung Soo always thought that he was an emotional person. He was constantly filled with them, emotions, thousands of feelings will prickle his veins and burn him alive with colours. Red, green, blue, yellow, orange, red, red, red and more red. He would say that he was colourful too. Constantly b with an overflow of rush and adrenaline and anger and more syllables he dared not go into.

 

“You’re not heartless, honestly Kyung Soo-yah, you get angry, then you get naggy, then you’ll come out with weird theories on how to make the world turn dark, so see, that’s just turmoil of emotions.”

 

“Do I, now?”

 

“Yeah. Like, you know, which one is the planet with the crazy amount of helium and thunderstorms and lava? Venus? Jupiter? I know it’s one of the Sailormoon’s gang.”

 

“Jupiter.”

 

“Yeah, that. Here’s a piece of advice, though, don’t waste your time cracking your head open to come up with ways to destroy the world. Just shut your curtain, it saves more money, and cuddle with me of rainy days. You know I don’t like the cold.”

 

“You’re sweaty. There’s nothing even attractive about such suggestion.”

 

“So why are you still in my arms now?”

 

“You specifically told me that you dislike the cold.”

 

Kyung Soo remembered reading somewhere when he was a child of how the Titanic was the first ship to use the S.O.S signal. Morse code. A continuous sequence of three dits, three dahs, and three dits, all run together without letter spacing. Something that look like this:

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

“So my comfort precedes yours?”

 

“You’d rather if I ignore you, instead?”

 

“No, no, that will just make me sad.”

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

“Do you not want to hold me, Jong In?”

 

“What a negative tone. I wish we can do this forever.”

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

Kyung Soo wondered how my times in a day he would’ve utilised such signal if it was possible, this · · · – – – · · · , repeatedly, being distressed and again and again. S.O.S.

 

Titanic may be the first ship to ever use such signal, but Kyung Soo believed that when Jong In’s arms tightened around his waist, head nuzzled against the crown of Kyung Soo’s head, that his heart may as well be Titanic itself.

 

Because he wasn’t just falling.

 

He was sinking.

 

Sinking into the poisonous clouds of hydrogen, helium and hydrocarbons –there might be four moons waiting for him at the end, there might be burning liquid of metals, there might be nothing –but stars, planets, galaxy, the space. That might wait for him too, the possibility was endless.

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

· · · – – – · · ·

 

[S.O.S]

 

===

 

[By balancing temperature, humidity and lighting, cloud can be created in the middle of a room.]

 

Kim Jong In

 

When he was sixteen and Kyung Soo was seventeen, Jong In remembered how the elder had cheered him up. It was that time when the younger’s father had slapped right across his face for the first time. Jong In always liked remembering small details, things like how it was winter and cold and the room was dark because Kyung Soo had always been weird like that, disliking the sunlight and always complained about wanting to create a world without a sun.

 

“But I like sunlight. They’re warm and especially nice during winter.” Jong In laughed more than few times back then. Sitting on Kyung Soo’s soft sheet and the elder had looked at him with such pained expression from his study desk, it was quite a difficult expression to manage and it was laughable.

 

“It pained me to be in such close proximity with a bundle of optimism such as you. I could vomit.” Kyung Soo had said and that was the first time Jong In realised he may like Kyung Soo’s cynical attitude a little too much to be that of just friends.

 

Jong In thought that it was the man’s weird attempt to cheer him up, somehow, that finally got him. It was two days after his father’s slapping incident when Kyung Soo’s small hands pulled Jong In to the basement at his mother’s garden. Door attached to the ground with flight of stairs led down through unused pots and chairs and broken table, before then, at the end of it, stood a partition, hiding strange items and equipment. Kyung Soo’s house had a large lawn, his mother was a single mother and a researcher, always going around the world to come up with new theories and left Kyung Soo with the maid.

 

Jong In lived next door.

 

Kyung Soo explained that by balancing temperature, humidity and lighting, cloud can be created in the middle of a room.

 

And that was what he did.

 

He created them just for Jong In and the younger remembered finally crying out. His father –

 

Oh, now he remembered.

 

They were out of cereals. That won’t do. Kyung Soo always took breakfast on time and he liked cereals the best. Especially corn flakes. Yeah, dry and plain corn flakes with milk. Not too much, though, because Kyung Soo hated soggy cereals.   

 

It was the New Year’s Eve. It was really cold and Jong In had worn that thick scarf Kyung Soo had bought for him and smiled as he clutched on the red woollen fabric around his neck.

 

[Let’s get some cereal!]

 

The walk to the grocery store was long. He could take the city shuttle, but Jong In liked how the sun was washing over him in this cold weather. It had felt nice. The sunlight had always been nice.

 

There were only few coffee shops that opened this early. Seoul was a weird city, everyone was obsessed with coffee and on a –

 

[Oh yeah, cereals.]

 

He bypassed the rows of coffee shop, bypassing the man with a forlorn look by the foggy window of cafe no.1, hearing the walking man with heavy eye bag trying to reason with another man with skin the fairest Jong In had ever saw and being careful not to step on the pile of vomit in front of the bookstore.

 

Kyung Soo would’ve been proud to see his manoeuvring skills. Jong In was really good at that kind of stuff these days.

 

And it was when he stood in front of the shelf of cereals that he finally remembered.

 

Loud crash and massive headache and lots of blood.

 

It was fair to say, that in this panic state, the first person he called was Kyung Soo.

 

“Kyung Soo-ah, didn’t I already buy the cereal yesterday and the day before? Don’t we already have a lot at home? Are we saving for some Zombie apocalypse?”

 

That was probably the first time in his life that he heard Kyung Soo finally cried. He had no clue why the man did so, he hadn’t even cried when his grandmother passed away back then, but the man was a sniffling mess now.

 

“I knew it,” the man sobbed. “I knew it.” The white fluorescent light was too harsh on the ceiling. “I knew you can do it,” It was hard to breathe. “I knew it.” 

 

But the more confusing thing was, he couldn’t explain why his cheeks were wet too.

 

He ran all the way home after that, phone clutched and line still on.

 

He ran.

 

He ran.

 

He ran.

 

And when he burst through the front door and saw Kyung Soo sitting on the couch with a calm face, he remembered it all.

 

Callisto.

 

That was Kyung Soo’s favourite moon.

 

Callisto.

 

Callisto.

 

“Hey, Kyung Soo-yah.” He called out, still panting by the archway to the living room. Kyung Soo quirked an eyebrow questioningly and Jong In gripped his phone tighter. “I don’t want to be your star anymore.” He said and Kyung Soo’s face slowly morphed into an empty canvas again. His eyes were forever wide as he studied Jong In’s step, shoulders hunch, and angry air. “I want to be Callisto.” He demanded. Because he was selfish. And he remembered. He remembered them holding hands outside on the balcony, he remembered arguing when Kyung Soo threw away his cup noodles.

 

Kyung Soo’s eyes were wide, they glistened and his jaw was clenched tight.

 

“Can I?” He asked, still breathless, but confidence unwavering when he slumped next to the elder on the couch and wrapped greedy arms around small set of shoulders.

 

“I have a counter-proposal.” Kyung Soo said instead. His voice was melodious, soft and Jong In nuzzled his head against the other man’s.

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“Take my name, instead. All my three bank accounts will be yours too.”

 

Jong In had answered in a heartbeat with clear voice.

 

“Proposal accepted.”    

 

The beauty of being a law student was that, he understood contract.

 

In common law legal systems, a contract is an agreement when having a lawful object entered into voluntarily by two or more parties, each of whom intends to create one or more legal obligations between them. What is a Contract? Easy-peasy.  A contract is a written or expressed agreement between two parties to provide a product or service. There are essentially six elements of a contract that make it a legal and binding document.

 

In order for a contract to be enforceable, it must contain:

 

1. An offer that specifically details exactly what will be provided
2. Acceptance, which is the agreement by the other party to the offer presented
3. Consideration, money or something of interest being exchanged between the parties
4. Capacity of the parties in terms of age and mental ability
5. The intent of both parties to carry out their promise
6. Legally enforceable terms and conditions, also called object of the contract

 

Kyung Soo might insist later that night when they both huddled together under the duvet, the elder spooning him, both of them warm and cosy, wearing only their skin and sweat, that no contract was even made between the two of them, as no specific details were properly tabled out by them. But for all that Jong In cared; all six requirements were already checked in his head.

 

“I said I accepted, hence, a contract is created.”

 

“To this day, I still marvel at your ability to pass your papers despite your clear stupidity.”

 

“I’m doing law. Words are my forte, you can keep theories and facts to yourself. We don’t need that.”

 

“You are ignoring all the foundation that makes a contract, a contract. Not to mention that you disregard the usage of material facts to your cause. You are no lawyer material, you’re a blooming politician.”

 

“Like I said, words are my forte. But who cares. I’m yours and you’re mine. You proposed. End of story.”   

 

“Your agreement is more than enough for me.”

 

“What’s wrong with a simple Callisto, though? That would’ve been simpler and more romantic. I don’t want your three accounts.”

 

Kyung Soo didn’t contradict him like he usually would.

 

Because he said –

 

“Your worth is probably more than all the four moons combined, Jong In, don’t be absurd.”

 

Jong In was really, really, really in love that winter.

 

He was twenty-two.

 

-End-

 

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I'm back. Why Callisto you ask? It's because when I was bedridden in the hospital, they have this show called Beyond Earth on National Geographic. Suffice to say, Jupiter is scary as . Beautiful, true, but scary. 

 

But anyways, how was this? Was it okay? Nay? Just leave me a comment or two and lemme know! 

 

p/s: listen to the song! It really does set the mood! XD

 

-bluecoins