Word count: 2.1k
Pairing: Chanyeol/Kyungsoo, Jongin/Kyungsoo
Summary: Chanyeol’s name holds a very special place in Kyungsoo’s heart.
a/n: this is un-beta’d so pls pardon the errors ;A; listened to yuna’s someone out of town when i wrote this :) to Gem (wink wink), I hope you enjoy it~*~ I’m sorry if it seems rushed ;A;
Chanyeol, Kyungsoo thinks the name sounds like summer’s light bursting through the cracks of spring’s vines. The syllables hang at the edge of his heart, trembling with fondness.
He is the hairy sprout of red Kyungsoo sees when he opens his eyes, under the crumpled sheet. He is the scrunch of nose and soft nuzzling that wakes him up, the long arms that fits around his waist. He is the seeping warmth of the dawn, gentle and familiar.
He is the rich chocolate foam and melted marshmallows, the sound of waffles breaking into half. He is the syrup that flows down the edge of his plate, that tongue that swipes playfully against his cheek. He is the laughter bubbling at his throat, the crescents that crinkle brightly under the sun's glow. He is the soft kiss pressed against lips coated with bits of crust, the pinches and nudges under the table.
He is the uneven stack of dishes crowding around the sink, the rubber gloves glazing his elbow and the stray white foam floating in the air.
He is the rushed peck at the corner of his lips, the smell of deodorant lingering around his coat. He is the raindrops pelting against the umbrella, the droplets that fall on his fingertips. He is the pair of mud-stained boots dancing from puddle to puddle, the song he hums whilst waiting for the bus.
He is morning that ends with coffee, shoulder that he rests on for a nap. He is the hand he hold on to throughout the bumpy bus ride. He is the nudge at his side, the lost warmth when he gets up from his seat.
He is the phone vibrating on Kyungsoo's desk, the text that he reads under the desk. He is the quick taps on the buttons, the secret smile plastered on Kyungsoo's lips. He is the first number on speed dial, the voice Kyungsoo hears during the short breaks. He is the bright yellow post it note on Kyungsoo's cup noodles, the scrawny handwriting and the disfigured smiley face. He is the face in the photo frame, the smile that watches Kyungsoo as he completes his assignments.
He is the buzz of the phone in Kyungsoo's pocket, the tap on the shoulder outside his office. He is the scent of the chinese takeaway and the freshly made pizza. He is the muffled sound of the television and the occasional static. He is the sound of beer cans opening, the body Kyungsoo leans on as he watches the television lazily.
He is the scent of citrus shampoo, the damp towel hanging at his neck and the slow presses of lips under the flickering fluorescent light. He is the fingers lost in his hair, the legs that tangle on the couch. He is the body pressed against the wall, the shuddery breaths against his neck. He is the fallen body on the bed, the chuckle that escaped when Kyungsoo trips. He is the arms that pull Kyungsoo into the bed, the smirk that teases and the soft caress against his cheek.
He is the bare skin that melts on Kyungsoo's body, the damp hair pressed against his forehead and the whispers of love echoing through the room. He is the arms that pulls Kyungsoo closer, the head nuzzling at the nape of Kyungsoo's neck. He is the full moon hidden amongst the skyscrapers and the sound of the clock ticking. He is the body Kyungsoo curls against and the soft snores against his back.
He is the future Kyungsoo dreams of, the fantasy he hopes to have.
He is the sound of the bicycle's bell ringing.
He is the crumpled uniform and the bag hanging from his shoulder. He is the curt salute that greets Kyungsoo when he runs out of his apartment. He is the waist Kyungsoo holds onto when he sits at the back of the bicycle. He is the soft breeze brushing past him as they ride through town.
He is the last bell that rings the moment they enter the class. He is the grin they share when the teacher chides them. He is the seats near the back and the bags on they throw onto the ground. He is the textbooks they share and the doodles the draw. He is the jokes they whisper when the teacher is talking.
He is them standing outside the class, hands raised and lips curved up.
He is the bell for recess, the usual table at the end of the canteen. He is the stolen food hanging at the edge of his lips and the chopsticks Kyungsoo uses to attack the thief.
He is the heads resting on the desk, the shared earpiece tangled in messy knots. He is the screechy guitar rifts and the steady bass of the drums. He is the songs they listen on repeat and the conversations that weave through the afternoon. He is the arms dragging Kyungsoo into the library. He is the hands that hold him when they kiss behind the shelf. He is the gasp Kyungsoo lets out when the librarian catches them.
He is the hand he holds onto as they run out of the library.
He is the rolled up sleeves, the guitar leaning against the wall. He is the voice that sings for him, the self composed lyrics that fills the music room. He is the tapping of shoes and burst of laughter when voices crack. He is the fun makes Kyungsoo dizzy with happiness.
He is the dusk that tells them it's time to say goodbye.
He is the 'hello' that comes with the wide grin. He is the number next to Kyungsoo's desk number. He is the face he starts to see every morning. He is the name he calls out when he enters the class. He is the disheveled hair that Kyungsoo remembers on the first day of school.
He is the present unravelling, the promise of something new.
He is Kyungsoo's favourite action figure, the shadow that occupies the swing next to his. He is the glazed knees and broken twigs. He is the digimon bandaids and the fingers that wipes Kyungsoo's tears away. He is the voice that is firm, the voice tells Kyungsoo 'big boys don't cry'. He is the slight cringe on his face when he limps behind Kyungsoo. He is the hand Kyungsoo grabs onto as they walk.
He is the toothless smile and the wild curls that bounce when they play catch. He is the castle they build at the sandbox, the little soldiers they create to protect their kingdom. He is the king of the land and Kyungsoo is his knight in shining armour. He is the stories he tells in their secret tunnel, the exaggerated gestures of the villains. He is the loud yelp when he grabs onto Kyungsoo's arm and the laughter teasing him. He is the make believes that became so real, Kyungsoo dreams of them every night.
He is the lunch boxes they shared, the cherry tomatoes they squeeze because they both hate it. He is the melting ice cream dripping down his hand, the grape-flavoured popsicle that Kyungsoo loves. He is the biscuit broken into half and the candies tug into Kyungsoo's pocket. He is the rubber bands flying in the air, the marbles scattered across the gravel. He is the games Kyungsoo lost and the pat on the head to make him smile.
He is the shield Kyungsoo hides behind when the older kids come. He is the tissue that cleaned his tears away when Kyungsoo was lost in the park and the compass lead Kyungsoo back to his mother.
He is the kid from the other school,the kid Kyungsoo clings to when he comes to the playground.
He is the kid that never came back to the playground, the kid he starts to miss.
He is the memory he treasures, the nameless hero he starts to love.
Chanyeol, Kyungsoo thinks the name sounds like sour ache throbbing against his chest. The syllables sound like a curse he shouldn't swear.
He is the everything he wants and the everything he will never have.
He is the forgotten memories and the gaze lost in the midst of the crowd. He is the what ifs that haunts Kyungsoo when he's lying on his bed at night. He is the what nots he should have memorised when Kyungsoo sees him. He is the warnings his head tosses at his heart.
He is the sad smile that greets him when he waves at Kyungsoo. He is the pained look lingering on his face when Kyungsoo sees him leaning close to a girl. He is awkward conversations that will never grow, sentences that is left hanging and unspoken words that are forgotten at the back of Kyungsoo's head.
He is the silhouette that brushes past Kyungsoo, the shadow that slips through his fingers. He is the desire that Kyungsoo tries to numb, the sting Kyungsoo wants to ignore.
He is the sound of his heart shattering when Kyungsoo see him holding hands with another girl.
He is the weight of the unrequited feelings resting on his back. He is the name Kyungsoo flinches when he hears it. He is the frown on Kyungsoo face when he hears a rumour about him. He is the distance Kyungsoo left when he attempts to heal his broken heart. He is the wound that digimon bandaids can't seal. He is the tears Kyungsoo hates because 'big boys don't cry'.
He is the person he can't forget when he graduates from school.
He is the nightmare that returns when he starts to work in the city. He is the loose tie hanging around his neck and his black hair styled back. He is the loopy grin on his face when he gets drunk at company dinners. He is the rough croak he hears when Kyungsoo greets him in the morning. He is the neverending pricks at Kyungsoo's heart whenever he talks about his girl.
He is the silent lunches Kyungsoo shares with him because his eyes are glued to him phone.
He is the broken smile when Kyungsoo receives an invitation to his wedding.
He is the clenched fist when Kyungsoo watches the bride walk down the aisle to meet him. He is familiar ache that returns when Kyungsoo sees that blinding smile on his face. He is the glasses of alcohol he drinks later that night. He is the night lights that flashes past the taxi's window. He is the chopped voice of the radio DJ, the sound of the driver clearing his throat.
He is the cold bed he falls onto.
He is the empty room he wakes up to.
He is the wishful thinking that stabs into Kyungsoo's chest, the cruel dreams that welcomed him every night.
He is the cold water splashed against his face. He is the slaps Kyungsoo gives to make himself sober. He is the reason hidden beneath the paragraphs, the envelope to Kyungsoo's resignation letter.
Kyungsoo stops thinking about him when he sees that shy smile of the barista.
Jongin, Kyungsoo thinks the name sounds like the warmth hiding in his coat, hugging him tightly when the autumn breeze brushes by. The syllables rest at his heart, trembling with fondness.
Jongin is the aromatic scent of roast coffee beans, the white foam around his lips. Jongin is the chuckle Kyungsoo hears when he leans forward to kiss it off, the fingers intertwined under the table. Jongin is the tanned skin Kyungsoo memorises with his heart-shaped lips, the sleepy eyes that greets him in the morning.
Jongin is the twist in Kyungsoo's tragedy, the light that shines through the grey clouds and the new chapter of his story.
Although Jongin is nothing like Chanyeol, Jongin is the reality Kyungsoo deserves and the happiness Kyungsoo had waited for.