appetite for destruction ; part ii
Jongdae is too sleepy to be able to enjoy the landscapes passing before his eyes through the bus window, he's too sleepy to admire Japan's greenery and even too sleepy to be saddened by the fact that he's missing it all. He has always liked Japan -although not as much as he loves China- but there's something about Japan that resonates through his whole body. He supposes it has something to do with the fact that Japan is an island that hasn't always been an island: one day it was a piece of rock connected to the rest of the continent by majestic glaciers, and the day after, everything had melted, leaving imprudent hunters at the mercy of the isolation. Centuries later, Japan is still here despite of all the disasters, wars and other misfortunes, and it has its own culture, its own history. Jongdae likes the idea of walking against the tide, and still be there at the end of the run. Japan is indestructible, at least it feels like so for Jongdae, and he knows it has been proven wrong by hundreds of scientists and earthquakes, but Jongdae seriously keeps doubting Japan will ever disappear. If there was a rockband with countries as members, Japan would definitely be one of them.
Jongdae's inner rambling lulls him to sleep, but he's not deep enough into it to not feel the presence of someone about to sit down next to him. Jongdae eyes are closed, but the subtle mix of lightness and heaviness when Jongin flops on the bus seat still gives him away. Through eyelids heavy with sleep, Jongdae catches a glimpse of an equally as tired Jongin scrolling down his phone with an uninterested frown on his face.
“Is there something wrong?” Jongdae asks, a little worried, because he can't refrain himself from pampering the boy next to him. Jongin is two years younger than him -just like Sehun-, but he's taller, more muscular, and he probably has sex way more often than Jongdae does -not that Jongdae wants to think about that, thank you-, but he still can't help it. Jongin is, and always will be, his baby.
Said baby turns his head towards Jongdae and flashes him a genuine, although weary, smile.
“Of course not. Why would something be wrong?”
Jongdae shrugs before curling up against Jongin's side, the younger's hoodie making a better pilow than the window. He blinks sleepily and watches Jongin's texts pass on the phone screen. Jongin doesn't protest, nor does he hide his phone. Just like Jongdae is totally incapable of being angry at Jongin, Jongin can't keep secrets from Jongdae -not because Jongdae is the most invading being on this planet (even if he actually is) but beause Jongin sincerely needs to tell him everything.
“Did you hear from Taemin, today?” Jongdae absentmindedly asks as he tries not to purr at the sight of Jongin's phone background -one of the selcas they always take everywhere they go.
“Nah,” Jongin answers with the same detached tone. “And I don't think I'll hear from him tomorrow as well.”
Jongdae tears his gaze away from the phone to look up at a still indifferent Jongin.
“Don't tell me you two...”
“Yeah. We broke up yesterday.”
Jongdae just needs to furrow his eyebrows and pinch his lips together to get Jongin to correct himself.
“Okay, I did. I broke up.” Jongin shrugs with a guilty smile.
So Lee Taemin is now another victim of what Jongdae likes to call the jonginlikesbreakupsalittletoomuchitis, he thinks sadly. He liked Taemin, he was nice to Jongin, and the fact that his boyfriend was more often in a tour bus than home didn't scare him away. Plus, he was a dancer, and Jongdae will never admit it, but he litteraly squealed with joy when Jongin told him. Jongin used to dance a lot when they were younger, and he had so much talent, but when they finally decided to try as a band, Jongin stopped dancing to focus on their rehearsals. Years later, Jongin's body is still as fluid as it was, long limbs moving with grace, as he was sliding more than walking, making Jongdae wonder if dancing wasn't actually Jongin's destiny. He once asked the younger if he missed ballet, and Jongin said yes, but he also said that, even though he loved dancing, he loves making music even more, and that he made the right choice.
“I liked Taemin,” Jongdae protests. “Why did you have to break up with him?”
Jongin lets out a laugh as he switches to his unread mail. Jongdae bites his lips to try and hide his smile when he sees a mail from Jongin's mom, titled as “Ninie ♥”. Jongin glares at him before opening the said message.
“If you like him that much, maybe I should give you his number,” the younger growls. “So you two can date and finally leave me in peace.”
“Don't be disrespectful to your elders, Ninie.”
“Go fuck yourself, please hyung.”
Jongdae laughs and pinches Jongin's cheeks, who lets out a whimper of protestation and tickles Jongdae as a counterattack. There isn't much space, but Jongin still manages to kick Jongdae in the stomach, before screaming for help when Jongdae sits on his lap to choke him. When their sore limbs finally become too hard to ignore, after a lot of elbowing and pleading moans, they fall back on their seats, out of breath, their laughs making their bellies hurt way more than the muscular ache of yesterday's show. They share a glance before Jongin gets his phone back from his pocket, and Jongdae goes back to cuddling with the younger's hoodie, pleased and warm. This is a nice kind of routine, he thinks, different than the one that weighs on all of them when they're on tour.
He watches the drummer quickly type a short mail to his mom. 'I'm fine, Japan is as nice as it was last time! I miss you too, but I'll call you soon, okay? Please don't worry for me, you'll get too much wrinkles! Take care of you. I love you. PS: tell dad I miss him too. Your Ninie.' Jongdae takes Jongin's phone and adds something at the end of the mail, before pressing the send button when Jongin shows his consent to what Jongdae just typed. 'Don't worry, I'm taking good care of your son, although the cheeky bastard isn't nice to me! Kisses, Jongdae.'
“So what are you going to do now?” Jongdae finally asks as he hands Jongin back his phone.
Jongin locks it and puts it away, refraining a yawn just long enough to answer.
“I don't know. Probably have a lot more sex. I kinda like the singer of our opening band, you know?” Except that Jongdae doesn't know, and Jongin knows it, so he keeps going. “Not the Chinese guy, it's Luhan, and he's cool and everything, but, I mean, Kyungsoo is cuter. He's small and he has huge eyes?”
Jongdae nods, pretending to remember said Kyungsoo when he has actually no idea who the hell he is. Jongin's interrogative eyes crinkle as the drummer smiles. He then buries his hands in his hoodie's pockets, eyelids heavy with sleep.
“He's a little bit weird, and cold at first, but I think he's interesting.”
Once again, Jongdae nods, not sure what he's agreeing to, but wanting to please Jongin nevertheless. He doesn't ask if Jongin has already talked to that Kyungsoo, because he knows he has. Behind his sexy smirks and dark eyeliner, Jongin is a little kid, way too excited, who loves making new friends. He probably has Kyungsoo's and all the latter's band members' numbers already saved on his phone, drown in a thousand of other names. Jongdae compares with his own phone, who barely contains more than thirty numbers, with more than the half of them that he never calls. It's not that he doesn't like making new friends -Jongdae enjoys having fun, just like everyone- but befriending someone is quite scary when you think about it. You have to let them in, and not only reveal them your darkest secrets, but you also have to face the urge to tell them everything that happens to you. It's actually funny, now that Jongdae considers it, because he makes a lot of dumb things -like smoking and drinking probably too much- without thinking about the consequences, but he finds it particularly hard to ignore the price that comes with every friendship. It takes a lot of trust, and a lot of unspoken words both parties are supposed to guess, to let someone into your life, and even like that, nothing can't keep the leaving part from happening. It's a lot of bets for too few advantages -at least it is in Jongdae's opinion, but obviously, Jongin doesn't share his point of view.
Jongdae watches the younger as his body relaxes against his own. Jongin's eyes are closed, and with his cheeks still flushed by all the laughing, he looks genuinely peaceful. There's nothing on his face that gives away the fact that he broke up the day before with his six-month-old boyfriend, but Jongdae wasn't expecting tears and longing, anyway, not from Jongin. He figured out long ago that it was more out of curiosity than nastiness, and that Jongin wasn't playing hard to get. When he's in a relationship, he just can't help himself from thinking about all the what ifs. What if I'm not with the good person? What if I can find better? What if he's not my soulmate? Jongdae may not believe in love at first sight so he still respects Jongin's optimism.
“Hyung?” Jongin whispers, his eyes still closed, and if it wasn't for the slight tension in his body, Jongdae would have thought he was actually sleeping. He hums, stopping himself from looking up at Jongin. The latter has his eyes closed anyway, and Jongdae knows him too well to think it's a coincidence. Like a little kid, Jongin thinks that some things are easier to face when you don't have to actually face them.
“Did something happen between you and Sehun?”
Jongdae's eyes automatically look for Sehun, a few rows ahead of them. From where he's standing, he can see some brown locks, and it's not difficult to picture the guitarist fast asleep against the window, his earphones plugged in. Jongdae also sees Tao's long legs spread out in the aisle, like it always is when Tao and Sehun sit together on the bus because their legs are just too long to fit between the seats. There isn't any high-pitched giggling covering the engine sound, so Jongdae concludes that the both of them are actually asleep. Jongdae's heart aches a little, because Sehun is the most beautiful when he sleeps, with no attitude and no facade that can hide his young age, and he wishes he could enjoy the view.
Still lost in his thoughts, Jongdae doesn't notice Jongin now looking at him.
“Hyung?”
Jongdae blinks.
“Did he tell you something?”he finally asks.
Jongin shakes his head before shrugging. “No, but I've figured out. What happened? Did you two fight?”
Jongdae thinks about Sehun's black eyes and the bottle of wine, he thinks about Sehun's confusion quickly turning into anger, and how the words easily left his mouth, like he had been waiting for so long already to throw his reproaches at Jongdae. Jongdae wouldn't exactly call it 'fighting', not in the way Jongin means it, anyway, because in the end, Sehun just wanted to have sex, and Jongdae said no. The fact that Jongdae has been missing him since then is just another proof that it had to stop. They were friends in the beginning and it should have stayed that way.
“Not really. Don't worry about it though, it's not important.”
Jongin seems to be about to add something, but he finally closes his mouth and silently watches a lost Jongdae.
“What?” the latter asks, confused.
“Nothing,” Jongin pulls back his hood over his head before sinking deeper in his seat with another yawn. “I hope everything will go back to normal soon, because it's weird not to have you two talking anymore.”
With that, Jongin finally closes his eyes again, informing Jongdae that their talk is over. It doesn't take more than thirty seconds for his breath to slow down and his features to soften as sleep takes over him, and soon enough, Jongdae is left staring, and wide awake. Everything is deathly silent, roadies, manager, and musicians all fast asleep, and Jongdae doesn't think about it for a whole minute before standing up and carefully stepping over Jongin to get to the bus driver. He needs someone to talk to, and the guy is actually pretty nice, so it will do. In the silence and the solitude, his thoughts get louder, and he's too used to the noise and the loud music to remember how to deal with them, so he runs away, as fast as he can.
He walks by Chanyeol's seat, smiling when he notices the latter fast asleep in a position that doesn't seem comfortable at all -his chin against his chest and his legs crossed- and keeps going, trying to ignore the way his heart beats faster as Sehun's head gets closer. He curses Tao and his long legs that keep him from running to the front of the bus, but still avoids them, careful not to step on them. Tao is a pain in the ass when he's hurt, pouting with trembling lips and teary eyes until he's given everything he wants. When Jongdae got the Chinese's fingers caught in a door a few months ago, it costed him a new phone and a week of treating him chicken. It's Sehun, Jongdae recalls, that actually asked Tao to stop, because having three phones is a little bit hipster Tao, and because I want to eat a pizza with Jongdae hyung without you dumbass baby whining in my ears, now leave us alone. Freedom never tasted so good, and they ended up going to the movie after their shared pizza. Sehun held Jongdae's hand throughout the whole movie, and then he kissed him slowler, but also deeper than ever when they finally fell on Jongdae's bed.
Jongdae isn't sure how much time has passed since he completely froze on the aisle, his fingers digging in the seats for support, because his mind is too busy remembering the taste of Sehun's lips against his own. His heart beats erraticaly in his chest, almost painfully, and a shot of pure electricity sends shivers down his spine along with a recrudescence of memories. His body obviously remembers Sehun better than his mind, because now every inch of his skin itches for Sehun's touch, Sehun's fingers, Sehun's lips, Sehun's everything. His breath tangles in the back of his throat, and he knows he shouldn't, but he turns around anyway.
Sehun isn't sleeping, like Jongdae supposed he would be. The guitarist is wide awake, silent and motionless, and he watches Jongdae with serious eyes. For a second, Jongdae wonders if Sehun knows how to read minds, if he heard, by one way or another, what Jongdae was just thinking about -what he is still thinking about- but he wipes it from his mind when Sehun doesn't make a single move. There's something in the guitarist's eyes that almost looks pleading, a wrinkle on his forehead that Jongdae wants to kiss away, and a invisible electrical storm thickening the air all around him. Jongdae gets so easily caught by the magnetism that he should be ashamed, and he instantaneously pictures himself on Sehun's lap, pressed against his chest, where he already knows he fits perfectly, as he steals kisses he doesn't want Sehun to give to anyone else.
Jongdae turns on his heels and strides as fast as he can, almost running to the driver's seat to escape Sehun's orbit before he crashes. When he finally stops, he's not sure if his lungs are still in his chest anymore, seeing how breathing is almost impossible. He doesn't turn back to see if Sehun is still looking at him, but the back of his neck keeps itching while he talks with the driver, and it's not hard to imagine dark eyes digging into his skin.
Fucking eyes. Fucking dark eyes, and fucking long fingers, fucking long neck. Fucking Oh Sehun. Jongdae didn't sleep a wink all night, even though he was exhausted, but did it stop his mind from flashing fucking Oh Sehun every three seconds? Certainly not. On top of that, Sehun's room happened to be next to his, and Jongdae heard him giggling like a five year old with Jongin all night long. His bed was way too large for him to simply fall asleep, and all he could think about was how Sehun was laughing with him instead of Jongin a few days ago. But Jongdae doesn't care, he doesn't fucking care anymore. So what if Sehun keeps ignoring him? Did Jongdae really do something wrong? Who got kissed by a girl, after all? Certainly not Jongdae. He doesn't care that Sehun's fingers kept sliding on his guitar's neck instead of pushing the girl away, doesn't care that he was smiling after the kiss instead of looking guilty. He doesn't. Fucking. Care.
Sehun can go to hell, and Jongdae will stay right here and have fun with.... Right, what's her name, again?
“I'm so glad I changed my mind last minute and decided to come here!” Whatshername squeals with excitement, and Jongdae flashes her one of his rockstar smiles. It's superficial, far from being sincere, and barely friendly, but it does have an effect, seeing how the girl is now giggling.
Jongdae goes to grab his beer on the bar, and accidentally locks eyes with Junmyeon, a few meters away from him. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. 'You're drunk', Jongdae hears him say in his own mind, and he knows Junmyeon -or maybe it's his conscience, they both sound the same anyway- is right, but he doesn't seem to be able to stop himself. Next to Junmyeon, Sehun is laughing, flashy orange cocktail in the hand, eyes turning into malicious crescents, and it's not fair. Jongdae should have fun too, instead of staring and hoping that Sehun will finally look back at him.
“I'm glad you did too,” he humors the girl, who immediately starts blushing.
Letting go is easy. Being drunk is even easier. Jongdae realizes things he tends to forget when he's stuck in reality, like how he should be proud of himself because he actually made it. He had a dream, and it was wide, but he made it, despite everything. He should be proud, instead of moping around all day long, because he's stronger than all of this. He's stronger than the bitterness and the exhaustion, stronger than the huge void Baekhyun left behind him when he gave up on EXO, he's stronger than Sehun and the deadly sins printed all over his milky skin, and he should just show them. How he just doesn't fucking care anymore.
He sees the girl's pupils blow wide with shock when Jongdae leans down to her, and the next thing he registers is the faint taste of cherry gloss on her lips. He could get used to it, he thinks, cherry gloss is nice, and it doesn't burn like smoke and nights spent drinking beers. They don't fight for dominance, and Jongdae doesn't lose himself as soon as their lips touch. It's just nice, peaceful and it probably looks a lot like those kisses in Korean dramas, but maybe that's the way it should be. Jondgae's hands are firmly cupping the girl's face, and he doesn't want -doesn't need- to let them wander all over her body. It's just a kiss, and Jongdae is still Jongdae.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?!”
Someone brutally pushes Jongdae, this way forcing him to break the kiss, but everything happens too fast for Jongdae's drunken mind, and the next thing he knows, pain explodes in his under lip when Sehun's fist crashes on his face. Whatshername cries out in fear, her hands on her mouth, and everyone in the bar is now staring at them -not that Jongdae cares, because the only thing he actually sees is Sehun with his fists clenched as if he was dying to use them on Jongdae again.
“Guys,” Junmyeon warms them before turning towards the girl with a reassuring smile. “It's okay,” he tells her, all sweet and nice. “They just drank a little too much so we're gonna head back to the hotel now. Have a good night.”
Junmyeon is an iron fist in a velvet glove: he keeps smiling to everyone but his fingers dig painfully into Jongdae and Sehun's arms as he drags them outside. Junmyeon is a good manager, because he knows how to manipulate people, he knows how to contain a crowd without having to raise his voice or threaten anyone, and the whole band witnesses it one more time when their exit goes unnoticed by the dozens of people now back at enjoying their Friday night. His reassuring smiles make no mistake about how angry he really is though, and as soon as they're in the back alley, away from prying eyes, he roughly pushes the two of them.
“What were you thinking about, Sehun?!”
Junmyeon never curses, but the anger in his eyes is usually violent enough. Not this time, though, because Sehun doesn't lower his head, like he generally does. Instead, he points a trembling finger at Jongdae.
“You should ask him!” Sehun yells, before turning to face Jongdae. “What were you thinking about, you asshole, uh?!”
All the alcohol suddenly vanishes from Jongdae's body, fading away with every sassy answers he could have come up with, when he notices Sehun's eyes glittering with tears. The guitarist is furious, like Jongdae has never seen him, and the sight is terrifying. Sehun is out of breath, his anger so strong that it took over his whole body. He clenches his hand on his shirt as if trying to extract his own heart from his chest, and he moans with barely contained fury, unable to stay still. Junmyeon is obviously as shocked as Jongdae -so are Tao, Jongin and Chanyeol- seeing how Sehun's short breaths are the only things that can be heard in the alley.
“Did you... Why... You're such a...” Sehun muffles a scream of pure frustration as he clenches his teeth. He closes his eyes and hides his face in his hands.
It's weird, Jongdae thinks, because he could have sworn it was still summer when they left the hotel to go to the bar, but now there's ice blocking his veins and making his heart crackles. Maybe he is dreaming after all -and it could explain a lot, like how he is unable to move or even talk, and how terrifyingly pliable Sehun looks. Jongdae knows Sehun's body, he used to hate it with passion almost every night, and watch it turning the air into electrical storms with the slightess move. Sehun is a long line that always seemed endless under his fingertips, all sharp angles and straightness, graceful and steady, even in the way he used to break down under Jongdae's touch; but now he appears almost boneless and elastic, as if his limbs were slipping out of his control. Sehun is crumbling away, one mutted scream of anger after another.
“You little shit,” Sehun sobs between gritted teeth.
Everything Jongdae has felt these past few days comes back to him; punching the air out of his lungs. It's like breathing in a lungful of black smoke, but this time not only with his lungs, but also with his pores and every tiny cell of his body. He's suffocating -even parts of him he didn't know could die from the lack of air are now begging for an injection of oxygen- but Jongdae can only open his mouth and swallow more black smoke. The power he wanted to have over Sehun was there all along, but it turns out that it doesn't taste as great as he thought it would. It's poisonous and it burns his tongue, in a way more painful way than Sehun's kisses used to do so. Jongdae believes he'll be reduced to ashes really soon, so he finally takes a step forward. He's still not sure about what he's going to say when he opens his mouth, but he knows for sure that if he was a nice kid once, he has now grown up to something completely different, greedy and stupid, and he's about to act selfishly once again by asking Sehun to calm down, because Jongdae is scared. So fucking scared.
“Sehun? Please, I--”
Sehun jolts out of his unbalanced dance with his rage when he hears Jongdae's voice. Jongdae feels flimsy, but he still feels Sehun's mental grip on his body, as if he was some kind of life preserver for a drowning Sehun. Unfortunately, he is also why Sehun was sinking in dark waters in the first place.
“Fuck you,” Sehun throws at him, his voice already hoarse. “We've had sex for months, Jongdae! Months! How could you think that some random crazy fan girl kissing me would matter to me more than you do?!” Sehun kicks an empty can of beer with a furious scream. He has never looked so young, Jongdae thinks, and he's not sure why, but it makes him want to cry. “You're so fucking scared of losing everything that you just throw it all away, as if it would hurt you less if you were the one leaving. Guess what?! It doesn't work like that, you dickhead!” Sehun's voice is a pitch higher and it keeps getting higher and higher, but also stormier, as Sehun lets it all out without breathing a single time. He's drowning anyway, and breathing would mean a lungful of cold and icy water in his body forever. “I didn't choose to kiss that girl, but you did! I know you too well to think that you don't care about me, and I was so patient with you, but then... It fucking hurts, Jongdae! You can't kiss anyone but me, do you hear me?! YOU CAN'T KISS ANYONE BUT ME, YOU ASSHOLE!”
Jongdae is still petrified, and Sehun is still moving. But then, his body seems to relax suddenly, forcing Sehun to slide down against the wall before sitting down on the dirty ground. He brings his knees closer to his chest and closes his eyes, seeming extremely tired.
“Just... take that fucking cocky confidence of yours with you, and leave me the fuck alone,” Sehun finally mutters, the back of his head resting against the bricks.
Out of all of Sehun’s words, those are the ones that hit Jongdae the most. They sound a little bit familiar -so does the ache in his heart- and he knows he doesn't want to go through all of this again. Last time, he had to face the bleeding of his heart until it finally turned into swollen scars that would always itch, but he feels like this time, it could actually kill him. Sehun's words carve themselves on his bones, where Jongdae can't possibly heal, and the pain is unbearable and terrifying -mostly because he knows he could have done something to avoid it, but instead chose to go for it again. Realization -of things he never wanted to realize- isn't like a cold shower -like it was when he saw Sehun's teary eyes- but more like walking into a frozen lake. His body turns to ice, slowly, and the quiet process numbs his legs, then moving up to nibble on his belly, and by the time it reaches his heart, Jongdae is a crying mess, all terrified and desperate sobs.
Sehun watches him a few seconds before he takes his face back in his hands, and slowly shakes his head, his broken sobs weakly barely making it through his fingers.
“You can't kiss anyone but me, hyung...”
Tao and Jongin are the first ones to move. They walk towards Sehun and help him to get back on his feet, their movements more synchronized than ever, but also slower and kind of hazier too, as if they were trying to shuffle as little air as possible, never really leaving Sehun's personal space. They lock their arms under Sehun's, and softly drag him out of the alley. There is nothing that Jongdae can do, except keep crying as Jongin glares at him, wrinkles dug out by anger on his forehead. Tao won't even look at him because he's probably too furious for that, and Jongdae really can't blame him.
“I-Is there something I can do?” Jongdae almost begs as Tao, Sehun and Jongin walk by him. He doesn't miss the way Sehun shudders, as if the idea itself was already too hard on him. Tao and Jongin don't even slow down, and Jongdae is about to run after them and throw himself at Sehun's feet when Junmyeon stops before him.
“I think you did enough for tonight, Jongdae,” EXO's manager whispers before turning on his heels and following Tao, Sehun and Jongin. Junmyeon didn't even seem angry, just... just sad and sorry, and it breaks Jongdae's heart a little more. If Jongdae had paid more attention when Junmeyon came to help him everytime Jongdae had felt empty and heavy, too tired to even drag his aching body to bed, he would have seen, flashing through his old friend's eyes, the consequences Jongdae now has to face. Now that he thinks about it, Sehun didn't even seem surprised himself, neither did Tao and Jongin. Jongdae sobs even harder when he realizes that, all this time, he has been so bad to them.
“You fucked up, Jongdae,” Chanyeol's low voice is like music to Jongdae's ears as he turns toward his oldest friend.
Chanyeol is an elaborate mix of memories, pieces of laughter they shared years ago still hung up to his whole body, from his huge ears to his clumsy feet. Jongdae remembers the countless memories as he takes in Chanyeol's silent and strong presence, and he knows what's going to happen next. Chanyeol is going to tell something, but it'll be shorter than Sehun's cries of anger. It'll be just as painful, though, because Jongdae can almost taste his friend's disapointment in the back of his throat. And then, Chanyeol will walk away, just like Sehun, Jongin, Tao and Junmyeon did, leaving Jongdae behind without looking back.
Chanyeol was there when EXO was only a hazy idea in the back of their heads, Chanyeol was there when Jongdae bought his first guitar, Chanyeol was there when Jongdae cried because, even though he hated his dad for leaving him, his mother and Jongdeok behind, he still missed him. Chanyeol was there when Baekhyun wasn't anymore, and Jongdae can't bear the idea of Chanyeol not being there anymore.
“Chanyeol, please...” Jongdae sobs, desperate. “Don't... don't leave me, please...”
The list is never-ending, Jongdae thinks. Everybody leaves, that's just the way the wind blows, but maybe he should begin to wonder why it keeps happening to him. It's scary to admit that he's so fucked up that no one wants to keep him in their life, it's terribly painful to realize that he's the common denominator to all those barely said goodbyes, but no matter what it takes, Jongdae will endure it. He just wants Chanyeol to stay, because Chanyeol has always been there, and Jongdae doesn't want to have to figure out how life works without Park Chanyeol by his side.
“Chanyeol...,” Jongdae begs another time, ready to fall to his knees. He lowers his head and closes his eyes, resisting to the urge to put his fingers in his ears to stop his mind from recording the sound of Chanyeol's foosteps getting farther away. “Don't leave, don't leave, please...”
He hears Chanyeol's shoes against the ground, but they don't go too far, because Jongdae sees the tip of his friend's worn-out Converse stop just before his own. Next thing he knows, Chanyeol's arms are wrapping him in a hug and he softly kisses Jongdae's head. Jongdae grabs onto him before burying his face against Chanyeol's chest and finally lets go. As he wears himself out, looking for the black out with hysterical sobs, he doesn't hear Chanyeol's shaky i'm not going to leave you, jongdae that he whispers into Jongdae's hair.
Jongdae's vision is filled with plain white plaster. The air never tasted healthier in his lungs, but paradoxically, breathing has never been harder. The ceiling is heavy on Jongdae, it weighs on his mind with the hundreds of ceilings he never saw because of the black smoke, and the incessant litany of 'were they all made of white plaster' drives him crazy. A few centimeters from his hand lies Chanyeol's hand, warm and open, because Chanyeol never catches you first, but when you finally fall into his arms, he never lets go.
They could be teenagers right now, Jongdae realizes, and even younger, because the peaceful silence filling the room isn't new to them. They went there before, and they probably will again later. Everything is the same, from Chanyeol's loud breathing to Jongdae's conscience fading away in too many thoughts, but it still tastes miles away from what it used to. In truth though, everything has changed, and the pale remake they're living just makes the differences stand even more. To begin with, his heart feels like it left his chest and is now beating in his lip, pulsating with the memory of Sehun's sharp fist. But the biggest difference of all, other than Jongdae's hairstyle, is probably Baekhyun's absence -and it's easily the most painful one too.
“Do you regret choosing this life sometimes?” Jongdae asks in a whisper so soft that when Chanyeol's silence is the only answer he gets, he just thinks that the guitarist didn't hear him. Maybe it's for the best, maybe the question wasn't made to be asked, seeing how wording it was already painful. Jongdae feels guilty, and ashamed of what he has kept silent all these years, but maybe it's where it belongs in the end.
“Of course, I do,” Chanyeol finally says, voice lost somewhere between whispering and talking. Jongdae stares at him, eyes wide open, and it takes a few seconds for Chanyeol to finally look back at him. “You didn't expect it, did you?” Chanyeol ads with the ghost of a smile on his lips, and Jongdae can only shake his head.
Chanyeol is the loud, blinding and always hyper, ray of sunshine of the band. He has always been, and he will always be. The you-better-move-your-ass-on-that-freaking-stage-or-I’ll-sit-on-your-instrument speech isn't Chanyeol's only power, and if it weren't for him, EXO would have probably faded away when Baekhyun closed the door behind him. Chanyeol keeps them all glued together, and thinking he regrets being there sometimes is terrifying as hell. Jongdae doesn't have an ounce of energy left in his body, but it still doesn't stop his tears from wattering his puffy and red eyes once again.
“You can go, then,” Jongdae retorts, on the defensive. “I don't need you to stay because of some promise we made when we were younger, I mean, it didn't stop Baekhyun, so why would it stop you? Just get the fuck out of here, and go live your own perfect life.”
Chanyeol keeps watching him for a long and silent minute, before looking up to the ceiling once again. He sighs, the oxygen leaving heavily his lungs to weigh on his chest as soon as he exhales.
“You didn't pay attention... All you heard was 'yes sometimes I wish I was somewhere else' and you panicked,” Chanyeol finally says. “ 'Yes, sometimes I wish I was somewhere else, but in the end I'm still here because this is where I belong' is what you should have heard.”
Jongdae's eyebrows furrow when Chanyeol flashes a slight smile to the void above them. He's about to ask what Chanyeol meant by that, but he feels way too tired to even open his mouth. Somewhere in the hotel, Tao, Jongin and Junmyeon are probably taking care of Sehun. It hurts not being the younger's shelter, but it's not like Jongdae actually tried to turn his embraces into a home for Sehun, so can he really be sad about it?
“You know, that dating rule we made when we created EXO?” Chanyeol suddenly questions, his wide eyes back at digging into Jongdae's tired ones. “Absolutely no dating between the members of the band,” Chanyeol then recites, using the exact same words than that night, except that it was Baekhyun's bossy voice that said them back then.
Jongdae doesn't answer. What could he say? They were young and stupid, and their parents probably laughed at them more than once, but it's still one of the best nights of his life. It was a dream the three of them had already lingering in the back of their minds, and Jongdae was the first one mouthing it. They were so excited after that that sleeping wasn't even a possibility, so they spent the rest of the night writing stupid rules to make sure EXO would never have to face any scandal that could wipe them away from the shelves in music stores.
“I thought the rule kinda went forgotten when Baek and I started dating--”
“Why would it?” Jongdae snaps, his voice shaky, but firm and angry. “If anything, it should be even more important than before.”
Chanyeol stays silent and Jongdae keeps swallowing down his tears as he looks defiantly at Chanyeol. More than empty, he now feels angry, because Chanyeol is now skating on thin ice and Jongdae doesn't want to go there with him. He spent the last couple of years building multiple warning signs around those memories, and he's not going to ignore them now.
“Jongdae,” Chanyeol's voice is serious and low, forcing Jongdae to stay silent, but Jongdae doesn't care. This is not a safe talk, Chanyeol shouldn't bring that up, Jongdae doesn't need it, not after what happened. “Jongdae,” Chanyeol goes again. “Baekhyun didn't leave because we were dating.”
“And how would I know?!” Jongdae barks. “You never told me anything! Both of you!!”
Chanyeol brings his hand up to wipe some of Jongdae's tears away, and puts it back on the bed as soon as Jongdae pushes him away. If he thinks Jongdae is really going to let him, the fucker is delusional.
“Baekhyun didn't leave because of the rule, or because we had a fight, or I don't know what possible reasons your stupid brain came up with. He left because this,” Chanyeol's eyes scan the whole room, “EXO, started to become more than real, and it wasn't what he truly wanted, in the end.”
Jongdae stays silent as he considers Chanyeol's words. He can't bring himself to believe that the full explanation lays in those few words, because Baekhyun shot several holes in his body when he left, and those words aren't even nearly enough to fill a single one of them. He trusts Chanyeol though, he knows his best friend isn't lying, and when he actually thinks about it, he must admit that it does make sense. On paper, anyway, because this isn't even the begining of a real justification for him, and if that's all Chanyeol has to say, why did he fucking wait two years for that?
“You were supposed to know what he wanted,” Jongdae finally breaks the silent with a whisper-like voice. It wasn't what he wanted to say in the first place, but the words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to chain them up in the back of his mind. He feels Chanyeol turning his head on the left to look at him.
“You two were dating, right?” Jongdae keeps going, his voice liquid and poisonous. He feels it damaging his mouth, eating his vocal chords and burning his tongue like acid, but Jongdae doesn't flinch. He's kept those wounds hidden for too long, and the internal bleeding has finally taken the best of him. When he finally turns his head to throw his anger at Chanyeol, a pending thunderstorm in his pupils, Jongdae is taken aback by the look on his friend's face. They're lying close on the bed, and Jongdae sees wrinkles he has never really paid attention to, but he's not sure they were actually there the minute before. It's like Chanyeol didn't even feel the bitterness of Jongdae's voice and the not-so-hidden reproaches that it was conveying, because he was already bleeding. He looks like he has spent too many years trying to heal old wounds with new bandaids, and now he's weighed down under the thousands of staples that can't even sew up any injury.
Jongdae is suddenly remembered that Baekhyun left Chanyeol too, that day. He left Chanyeol, EXO's solo guitarist, Chanyeol, one of his childhood best friends, and Chanyeol, his boyfriend. Jongdae's resentment is still there, though, because they were three Chanyeol, and Jongdae was just a two in Baekhyun's heart. It hadn't always been like that, except that maybe it had, because Jongdae had to learn how to get used to the second place when Baekhyun and Chanyeol began to exchange secret glances Jongdae had absolutely no means to understand. Friday nights in the studio turned into Baekhyun and Chanyeol's dates, and Jongdae just got kicked out of the equation. It could have been okay in the end, he could have kept swallowing down his fear of abandonment, if Chanyeol had been able to keep Baekhyun with them, or, even better, to stop him from wanting to leave in the first place. But when Baekhyun announced that he had enough that day, when he grabbed his guitar's case and left the studio, and when Jongdae laughed because fucking Baekdumb is once again trying to keep the spotlights on him, Chanyeol too had absolutely no clue what was going on. Chanyeol, who had more than the half of Baekhyun's heart, had no fucking clue, and Tao ended up being the first one running after Baekhyun.
“I'm sorry,” Chanyeol whispers. “I'm so sorry for everything, Jongdae...”
Yes, sometimes I wish I was somewhere else, but in the end I'm still here because this is where I belong.
Baekhyun left, but Chanyeol stayed. In the end, Jongdae didn't have Baekhyun's heart, but neither did Chanyeol. Jongdae has Chanyeol's, though, and Chanyeol has Jongdae's.
Jongdae closes his eyes and thinks about that day in the studio, how realization washed over him painfully as his laugh broke in the back of his throat when Tao rushed outside with a litany of “Baekhyun hyung, Baekhyun hyung!” that would become the background music of thousands of Jongdae's nightmares later. EXO was doing really great, and they were actually working on their third album. Baekhyun kept saying that any dumbass with a cheap guitar could make two successful albums, but that a whole explosion of talent was needed to make a third great album, and Jongdae didn't pay attention to the I don't think I'm gonna let you use my talent this time, guys that was creeping under the surface. Chanyeol said that it was starting to become too real for Baekhyun, and Jongdae now understands that what he took for pressure because of the fans' expectations back then, was actually the urge to run away while Baekhyun still could.
It does sound a lot like Baekhyun, Jongdae mentally admits. Baekhyun, who had three shelves full of books, Baekhyun who was passionate about volcanos one day, and lions the day after. The kid had about three hundred different dreams, from becoming a vet to being a famous magician, including being a cartoonist as a hobby, and Jongdae can totally imagine his ex-best friend suffocating in the exclusive rights that EXO was asking from him. There wasn't a single thing that Baekhyun couldn't do well -except maybe composing, despite the fact that he was a great musician. It was just stronger than him, like he couldn't even control himself, and every song he composed lasted for more than ten minutes. Baekhyun was a multi-talent fucker, a genius who always wanted to know more, to do more, more and more. Jongdae has learned, throughout the years, that dreams unfortunately grow older faster than their dreamers, but things like that don't happen to Byun Baekhyun, because Baekhyun knows how to keep his dreams young and colorful. Jongdae can't even understand why he and Chanyeol thought that they would be enough in the end.
But it's still not a reason, it still doesn't make the door slamming behind Baekhyun less painful.
Most of the time, Jongdae curses the way Baekhyun nests in his mind, but in the dead of night, when sleep keeps slipping through his fingers, he enjoys the company of all those memories. They were so sure about being together until the end that even now, years after Baekhyun's guitar's disappearance, it's like Jongdae's body remains convinced that the three of them belong together. Living with Baekhyun's 'I was there' in his mind is still better than without any Baekhyun at all, but it doesn't, for sure, make Jongdae's life easier.
Staring at the ceiling is starting to feel too suffocating -not because Jongdae's teary eyes make it look closer than it really is, but because it still isn't moving, and Jongdae is tired of wishing for it to crush him so he can finally stop missing Baekhyun. His hand slides against Chanyeol's palm and, finally, there isn't any space left to be seized between Chanyeol's fingers. Chanyeol sighs, softly but lengthily, as if he had been holding that breath of air for too long. A long time after, Jongdae can still hear Chanyeol's lungs getting rid of all that oxygen in his head, and for an even longer time, the memory of the exhalation is the only thing that makes the silence feel a little more alive in the hotel room.
“Sehun likes you a lot, you know,” Chanyeol finally whispers, his gaze still lost on the ceiling above their heads. Jongdae wonders if he sees it as white as him. “You fucked up pretty bad, tonight.”
Jongdae bites the corner of his bottom lip. Sehun's name rings through his mind in a colorful storm of memories and sensations, but he's not surprised. It's not like it's the first time Sehun seems to bloom in his insides. He used to think with vanity that it was his love for music that was saving him from all the black smoke and beers he was gulping down, but in the silence of the room and with the heat of Chanyeol's hand against his, pretending doesn't work anymore. Sehun was their additional guitarist when Baekhyun was still there: he would join them during their tours and play with them with an ease none of them -even Baekhyun- had for their first stages. When Baekhyun finally packed up and went, Sehun unpacked and stayed, adding his own creativity to EXO's music, one riff after another. Jongdae still doesn't know how Sehun did it, but it never felt like Sehun was there to replace Baekhyun, just like Sehun never acted shy or unsure in the studio or on stage. What Baekhyun was bringing to EXO is gone forever, but that doesn't mean there's nothing left, because Sehun unlocked doors they didn't even know existed. When they were all floundering, not quite knowing what to do with the void Baekhyun left behind him, Sehun was quiet but firm, like a lighthouse that helped them out of the fog one by one. He was the most solid under Jongdae's fingertips -Jongdae who was convinced that he broke his dream and tried to hide the breaks with black smoke, Jongdae who tried to tear Sehun apart with kisses and nail scratches to prove that Sehun wasn't any different, and that he would end up leaving him too. But Sehun is solid, where Baekhyun was elastic, and Jongdae is in love.
“Do you think he'll forgive me?”
“Of course. Though it'll probably be harder with Zitao. You'll have to buy him a lot of things, I hope you put some money aside, boy.” Chanyeol answers with an amused voice, and Jongdae feels the atmosphere getting lighter as background noises invade the heavy silence in the room again. Baekhyun is still there, of course, standing in the middle of the room -his droopy eyes on them as he flashes them one of his brightest smiles, his delicate fingers buried deep in his pockets- and he's probably there to stay, but Jongdae can't keep himself from feeling like it's actually a little bit different, now. Something hits him, and he turns his head towards Chanyeol.
“Do you guys still talk?”
There's no confusion about who Jongdae is talking about in Chanyeol's eyes, only hesitation and it's enough of an answer. Jongdae licks his lips as he tries to word his next question, and probably the most important one.
“Are-- Are you two still together?”
It's almost imperceptible, but Jongdae sees it anyway. Chanyeol deflates as the left corner of his lips slightly twiches, and once again, Jongdae finds his answer in Chanyeol's eyes.
“I think he has someone else. He lives with a Chinese guy with a weird name, like Yixing or I don't know.”
Of course you know, Jongdae thinks, but he stays silent. For the first time in two years, Jongdae is angry at Baekhyun for something else than the void he now has to carry all around. Jongdae didn't deserve those few sharp words that day, and neither did Chanyeol, but that didn't stop Baekhyun. Even Tao's pleading cries outside of the studio didn't slow him down --and Zitao was for Baekhyun what Jongin is to Jongdae. Jongin's numerous attempts to talk to him on the phone the following days didn't change a thing. Baekhyun woke up that morning, and he was all that mattered. He snatched pieces of them without any second thought, and just like that, it was over.
“Jongdae?” Jongdae hums in agreement. “I think the new rule should be 'don't let the guy you love find himself a Chinese dude with a weird name.'”
Jongdae turns his head towards Chanyeol, and smiles. Chanyeol gives him a toothy grin in return, and it makes Jongdae laughs. It doesn't take more than two seconds for Chanyeol's laughter to join, and their mirth keeps them awake until dawn, exactly like it used to be back in the days. At some point during the night, Jongdae's phone buzzes and the screen lights up with a 'I love you, hyung ♥ (even if you're a shithead)' from Jongin, followed a couple of minutes after by a 'Tao wants a new leather jacket, but don't tell him I gave you the idea, otherwise he'll still be mad and you'll have to buy him something else.'. Chanyeol laughs so hard that he falls off the bed, and Jongdae honestly thinks he's going to die seeing how the muscular ache is now abusing his body, but all in all, it feels good -so good, like finally realizing that you have a home despite the fact that you live in a tour bus.
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