Round 24: Sugar, We're Going Down 1/3
Title: Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down
Team: Future
Rating: R
Fandom: 2PM, Jay Park
Pairing: Taecyeon/Chansung
Summary: Taecyeon goes to a series of parties where he gets stuck in situations that ask him to question his feelings.
Warnings: Cussing, alcohol, sexually suggestive scenes
Author’s note: Much thanks to the mod for being so patient with me, to C for cheering me on, to M for listening to me, to R for reading this in the shortest amount of time given, to the many others who supported me (hugs hugs hugs), and lastly, to my dearest #teamqtpies for giving the memorable experience ever.
Prompt used: The lyrics of History’s What am I to You.
D-84
i’m two quarters and a heart down - dance, dance
It was three am in the morning when Taecyeon fumbled with the car keys in his hand, frick, and tried to use those to unlock the door to his home. It didn't seem to work. Then he tried fiddling with the knob and to his surprise, the door swung open, and he let out a gibberish exclamation of triumph. His footsteps stumbled a bit, making him sway left and right like a boat on water. Some two year old song about choco cream pie was stuck in his head and he rap-slurred it like a drunken man's serenade. What’syourfetish,girl? Guywhoraps? Ohdamnthat’sme, he giggled breathily and blew an air-kiss to his hair-tousled, red-lipped, half-lidded reflection as he passed by a mirror. Booming New Year's fireworks still rang in his ears and whenever he shut his eyes, he could see them vividly, blooming, with palm leaves of speckled light glittering across the night sky. They had all clapped each other's backs in celebration for the new year and laughed in joy at the spectacle. Though they had been watching fireworks their whole lives, every time it happened, it brought 2PM together with beaming smiles and shimmering eyes. They had spent many of their New Years at one of the Gayos, huddling together during the countdown. This time, they had done the same to keep their tradition. But something was missing.
Chansung had left early.
Everything had started out normal, the usual chaos at the party with the six of them. Their many wild and crazy friends were invited, and they lit up their own firecrackers that went pop-pop-pop like bullets pulsing through the air. Paper lanterns glowed soft yellow orbs and floated above their heads like halos. Clinking bottles were passed around and poured sloppily into red plastic cups while the chitter-chatter hummed in their ears. Bursts of obnoxious laughter would crack like lightning through the soft chattering hum every once in a while, and then eyes would glance back and forth sending telepathic messages like, he’s drunk as fuck, and god, I know right. Taecyeon didn’t expect to have any of those eye-to-eye conversations but once he downed a cup of something tongue-curling sweet and bubbly burning, he set it down and froze-moon-glittering eyes had met his gaze. His breath was caught in his throat.
Still very normal, until the rest of the face emerged from the blur of passing people and it was Chansung flushed-face and milk-skinned, floating through the crowd, approaching him. Oh, I could drink that, Taecyeon murmured to himself, but then choked in realization that such an idea had surfaced in his mind. He would never, for the life of him, want to drink Chansung’s skin. He quickly grabbed a bottle and sunk that into his lips. Nope. Everything was still normal. Everything was fine. He had swallowed too fast and the burning sensation seared his throat and oh-now his neck, too-and he turned to see what was causing the heated touch. Chansung. His heart raced wildly. But here Chansung was, chin on Taecyeon’s shoulder, smile all too alluring and Taecyeon could see the billowing fireworks in Chansung’s pupils. So Taecyeon stopped and stared. And stared. And stared.
“Hi,” Chansung breathed with a lazy, dreamy smile. Dazed, Taecyeon had to stop himself from falling over at the overwhelming fragrance of vanilla and alcohol. He found himself hitching fingers onto the seams of Chansung’s shirt to steady himself. Chansung’s doe-eyes widened, and he glanced down and up. Something changed right there. Taecyeon would cringe if he could but the whistle of a firecracker blinded his hearing momentarily and all he saw were moving lips that looked so unreasonably wet. Captivating. Oh, Chansung was saying something. Maybe it was important. But when the sound came back to him, it was the bottleneck that had slipped out from his fingers and shattered on the ground. Someone whooped in the background and there were several waves of clapping that followed. A dog howled from somewhere down the street and Taecyeon could leave his body for those sounds outside the overheating bubble he was in. Alas, he was snapped back to the reality where he was suddenly pressed against the edge of a table, with Chansung on him, chest to chest, hip to hip.
“What-” Taecyeon panicked but Chansung put a finger to his lips, hushing him. What the fuck? What was Chansung doing? This wasn’t- normal. This was utterly wrong and yet, he let Chansung hold the nape of Taecyeon’s neck and move up closer, closer, lips nearly grazing, noses eskimo-kissing.
“Happy New Year’s, hyung,” he whispered, like it was a secret only lovers shared. Maybe he thought Taecyeon’s face looked funny so he giggled.
“How... how drunk are you?” Taecyeon asked slowly, trying to step away but he was pinned to the table’s edge and couldn’t move elsewhere. Chansung’s lips were so plump and full and Taecyeon thought he could let gravity draw him in and sink a thirsty wet mouth between those inviting appleblossom lips-but the thought of it made Taecyeon’s fingers curl into fists. He had to back up now. If only he could. Chansung’s lipbiting grin wouldn’t leave his face. Maybe Taecyeon didn’t want it to ever leave that face. Yes, he did. Of course, he did, because this was wrong.
“Very, very drunk, I guess,” Chansung finally answered, bouncing a little on his feet. Somehow, that should have rung warning bells in Taecyeon’s head but it didn’t. He quite liked this unrestrained Chansung. Yes, Taecyeon had spoken to soon. Chansung’s thumb traced Taecyeon’s lips, blinking slowly, absorbing the touch. His other hand slid past the nape and underneath the collar. He licked his lip as he traced a finger around the collar, mouth parting as he reached the collarbone and then tugged it down. Chansung seemed so breathless all of a sudden. Okay, don’t panic. Taecyeon clasped onto Chansung’s wrist to halt him.
“Chansung, what the hell are you doing?” Taecyeon whispered urgently, trying to unhook the maknae’s finger but he just wouldn’t give in. “Chansung?”
Chansung pursed his lips, which turned into miles and miles of a gushy smile that made Taecyeon involuntarily step backward. Taecyeon knocked further into several bottles and glasses that clinked and clattered against each other on the table. Some of them spilled to the ground and a couple of bottles rolled off the table’s edge and shattered. Suddenly, all this undivided attention was too much for him. He was supposed to be used to it, especially since he was accustomed to being on stage with thousands of fans staring and screaming at him. Okay, he’d admit he had the occasional stagefright sometimes but this- this proximity made him squirm, and yet, his hands were latched onto Chansung’s shirt again, pulling him in. Taecyeon could tell that Chansung relished it all too much, rosy cheeks and dreamy smiles. Maybe Chansung wanted more, because he gestured Taecyeon to move closer, so he could whisper something.
Despite his misgivings, Taecyeon did lean in and tilt his head and Chansung looped his arms around Taecyeon’s neck. Perhaps he shouldn’t have indulged in Chansung’s request, Taecyeon thought. But before he could recant his decision, hot air caressed his neck and ear. His face grew red, trying to bite back the urge to moan from the pleasurable buzz. Chansung’s low, buttery voice did things to him. Undid him. Taecyeon’s fingertips dug into skin and fabric, maybe, maybe, he was getting intoxicated by this more than alcohol ever could, lifting him into clouds that stirred the flickering fire in him. But, no, no, this was wrong. He wanted to resist. He had to. Taecyeon’s hands rested on Chansung’s chest now, Taecyeon could push him away and run like the wind but-
That wasn’t even the beginning. His protests melted. He should’ve fought more, but Chansung was breathing so close to his ear and the heat was addicting and-
“I want,” Chansung whispered sultrily in his ear. “I just want.” And that alone sent hot shivers down Taecyeon’s spine.
Taecyeon turned, so their eyes could meet. This feeling. It was like he couldn’t have enough of it and yet, he needed to run from it-"What do you want?” Taecyeon asked, his voice lower than he had expected. He would have slapped himself right there and then because the depth of his voice only made Chansung’s lips curl into a blushing grin. He shut his eyes. He had to. Chansung’s fingers had slipped underneath Taecyeon’s shirt and his thumbs had rested on hip bones, pressing in. Taecyeon breathed out slowly. His eyes fluttered open and Chansung was staring at him, eyes burning with fervor. Okay. This was war. Taecyeon could go with this, he decided. Just to let Chansung think he could lead Taecyeon on. “What do you want, Chansung-ah? Let me give it you,” he offered gently. He laid a thumb on Chansung’s chin and smiled like sugar.
Sweet. Surprised by the turn of events, Chansung stepped back, his face going beet-red. This time, Taecyeon moved in, maintaining that closeness they had before. Taecyeon realized when the separation split the bubble in half, the cool wintery air rushed back in and he felt almost-naked and he needed, thirsted, for that heat back. But his mind was working on something else, and he glanced down Chansung’s body, wondering if the truth would protrude, behind the zipper. But when Taecyeon did that, his focus was like a pinball, unable to stay in one spot anymore, his own mind-in-gutter running away on his original intent, and he was consumed by the urge to press up against that body that seemed to fit within his. No. No. That was wrong.
“Chansung, do you want... all of this?” Taecyeon ran his hands across his chest and down his torso, fingertips getting caught on the buttons. He could unbutton his own shirt for Chansung right now. He’d done that before. What Chansung was seeing wasn’t anything new. But Chansung hiccupped and stepped further back. Taecyeon stepped closer. “Chansung,” he murmured as he leaned in close to the ear, “I know what you want. I could give it you. Give you everything.” He licked his lips, knowing full Chansung could hear the tongue slipping across the lip and wetting it red and glistening. He breathily laughed because he knew Chansung’s heart must’ve been parading a ruckus inside that chest that Taecyeon so very needily wanted to hold onto, and cuddle, then touch, and trace, and map-no, never. Not in a million years, and not when Chansung boldly moved close as well, their bodies flushed together and Taecyeon couldn’t gasp without admitting that this-felt hot.
“No, hyung,” Chansung whispered in his ear, “you couldn’t even imagine.” There was a huff of warmth that kissed up on his skin and left it all sensitive. Blood pounded in Taecyeon’s head as Chansung’s hand shuffled through his clothes and ran it up against Taecyeon’s skin, fingertips grazing slow trails up his body. Oh, no. Taecyeon clutched onto him. He had to clench his teeth down, and bite his lip to suppress the moan that was stuck in his throat and-no, he felt something warm and wet outlining the shell of his ear and he couldn’t- Taecyeon let the moan drip out of his parted mouth and he turned his head away, flushed, swallowing in embarrassment. The saliva went cold against his heated ear like ice on fire and the contrast washed him inside and out with a bubbly, tingly burst.
Chansung guided Taecyeon’s chin so they were facing each other. It was as if Chansung was telling his hyung silently to look at him if Taecyeon wanted to bare his naked underside that he’d been hiding for so long. Show it to me, was everything Chansung’s intensely chocolate eyes said, and Taecyeon was enamored by those glittery eyes again, watching the fireworks whizz and pop through that reflection. “See,” Chansung said with a buttery smile, “I told you. I still have tricks up my sleeve.”
He was a fool. Oh, such a fool, he was. Taecyeon snapped out of the trance, rubbing at his ear with his fingers. He could feel Chansung’s saliva slicking up his fingers and he curled them into the palm of his hand, squeezing it tight. Tight enough that he could’ve cut off his own blood circulation. He had to fucking run. “Chansung-ah,” he began, lightheaded and dizzy. Chansung didn’t move, nor did he even plan to. If he did, he walked Taecyeon backward to the table and grabbed a bottle and swished it down his throat. “Chansung-ah,” Taecyeon repeated.
“Mmm,” Chansung hummed into the bottle mouth. Taecyeon snatched the bottle away from him, spilling a bit onto Chansung’s shirt before putting it to his own lips. He swallowed big gulps that made his chest burn, masking and fizzling away at the other heat that had consumed him from Chansung’s touch.
“I,” Taecyeon gulped it down and saw stars underneath his eyelids, “I know exactly what you want.” And then he broke into giggles because Chansung had, and his dimples must’ve done something to Chansung because now Chansung was blushing. Chansung reached up and thumbed the dimples until Taecyeon stopped smiling, but it was hard to stop because he liked Chansung tracing the features on his face. No, he didn’t. But he saw Chansung’s smile falter when his did, though Chansung’s doe-eyes were very much covered with a sheen of sparkly fireworks and blossoming ardor. “Let me show you how much I know,” Taecyeon continued. “Just watch.”
“Watch you?” Chansung breathed with babyface wonder.
As soon as Taecyeon stepped away, he really did feel the cold air swarm around him. In seconds, the warmth and heat they had shared and fueled dissipated fast. Something tugged achingly in his chest, so he turned back and grabbed another bottle, listening to the liquid slosh against the glass walls as it filled his mouth and throat with icy cold. It burned and subsided. Taecyeon kept walking further away from Chansung, closing his eyes and inhaling in the wintery air that bit at his lungs. For that moment he was with Chansung, he had forgotten it was still winter. Now that the bubble had burst open, the cold breeze crept through his clothes and chilled what Chansung had touched. He felt as though the winter was erasing it all away, but his dizzying headache did not fade out, as much as he wished it would. Taecyeon glanced over his shoulder once more, giving Chansung a lopsided grin. “Yeah, watch me,” he called out and bit his lip like he was a confident piece of shit. Watch me run.
He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, but at the first woman he saw, her back facing him, he approached her. He dipped his chin onto her shoulder from behind and she turned her head a little, with a surprised gasp. Realizing who it was, she smile and greeted him. Taecyeon smiled back and placed his hands on her waist. It felt right, to hold such curves in his hands that Chansung did not have. It felt destined. She let her hands rest on his and she began to talk about something, not that Taecyeon was truly listening. I know how to cheat, Taecyeon thought to himself with a smirk. He turned her around and complimented how gorgeous she was, making her laugh with delight. And when Taecyeon glanced to see if Chansung was watching him, Taecyeon was disappointed. Taecyeon had wanted the pleasure of seeing jealousy and hurt on Chansung’s face. Oh. But he knows how to play, Taecyeon muttered to himself silently with a sigh because- Chansung was gone. Taecyeon didn’t know how long Chansung had disappeared, but hopefully not so long to at least witness what Taecyeon had done. And Taecyeon thought he saw Chansung’s dejected shadow walking past the fence toward his car but there had been too many people blurring by.
Taecyeon touched his ear again, then placed his fingers to his lips. He could still taste Chansung’s loneliness.
*
At home, Taecyeon kicked hard enough until his shoes flew off and hit the wall. It did not make a pleasant sound but Taecyeon waved a hand of dismissal. "Bah," he mumbled, which in Drunk Taecyeon language meant, who cares.
The notes of the song falling out of Taecyeon's mouth morphed from cream pie rap to a waltzing sequence. Taecyeon spun around, babbling, "Da-da-dadada-da-da-da circus~" He pranced around and around in flowering circles that made his head thrum with a dizzying headache. It wasn’t like the headache from before had gone away, but he had forgotten about it until he spun around and the weight settled again. Something fell as he knocked into his furniture and though his mind was already in the gutter, he did wish he had a partner to dance with. So, he spread his arms wide and pretended that the airy, invisible figure in front of him, matching his footsteps, was his partner in crime. This interpretive dance was going fine, he thought, feeling like some tangible form of happiness (or craziness) had been dumped over his head like a bucket of ice and he felt jittery and bouncy.
Taecyeon shuddered as a draft of wintery cool air hit his face when his swaying body took him to his bedroom. He couldn't remember leaving the window open but where was his brain now, Taecyeon knew he couldn't exactly trust his memory at that point. When Taecyeon moonwalked into his room and turned around, he froze. His window was indeed open. On the wooden sill, a dark and frail silhouette was resting, back leaning against the frame, and one knee propped up. The silhouette seemed to be rubbing their face, like the world was going to end and there was no more hope. At first, warning bells rang through Taecyeon's head. Okay, so those were working, when they hadn’t before. He felt like he was underwater and his movements were jelly. There was no way he could fight with a burglar right now. He grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a lamp, and Taecyeon supposed that was better than a frying pan, at least. But as Taecyeon moved closer and several more bursts of fireworks lit up the sky, the facial features of the silhouette materialized out of the darkness.
"Boogaloo!" Taecyeon shouted his war-cry, and he raised the lamp high in the air. But he paused at the sight of the bone-tired face. Exhaustion and weariness in the form of hollowed out, bags of black circling those doe-eyes haunted him. "Chansung?" Taecyeon murmured in shock, and he let go of the lamp. It crashed onto the floor like the sound of glass breaking and Chansung visibly winced. But Taecyeon wasn't bothered by that. He blinked once, twice, thrice, four times and the sight of Chansung still refused to register in his brain. Then the warm touches resurfaced and gave him shivers and tried to shake himself out of that. That was not what Chansung was supposed to do to him. "You're not-supposed ta... to... uh... hmm," Taecyeon swallowed his words down his throat. He couldn't recognize the sound of his own voice. And he still kept blinking, scrutinizing Chansung.
“Do I look like a goat to you?” Chansung asked quietly. Taecyeon nearly smiled at that, remembering two years ago where he had to film the party version of Go Crazy with a goat. A real goat. Or maybe it was ram, he couldn’t really remember. Same difference.
“You sound like Junho,” Taecyeon muttered, scratching his stomach. “And no, you’re a very handsome goat. There is a difference.”
Chansung's mouth twitched, like he had wanted to smile too but something held him back. Under the moonlight and the flickering lights of the fireworks, the color of his lips were the softest pink, like cotton candy. But it was peppered by sprinkles of rainbow from time to time when bursts of fire bloomed in the sky.
Not this again. Taecyeon rubbed his eyes and smacked his lips. Chansung wasn't saying anything to explain himself and so Taecyeon plopped down on the white painted wood of the window sill. He leaned off the edge to glance down below, teetering for a moment before Chansung bolted up and grabbed Taecyeon harshly, his fingertips digging crescent moons into Taecyeon's skin.
"Careful," Chansung whispered, worried lines criss-crossing his face. Taecyeon blinked slowly at Chansung and noted that the babyface was still there, but it was masked with something else. Hurt? Betrayal? Taecyeon might have begrudgingly taken half of the blame for this, for flirting with that woman, but he shrugged it off. It was no big deal. What the big deal was, lied in Chansung’s face.
"You look like the world's gonna end today," Taecyeon said loudly, and surprised himself with how clear that statement was made. Maybe the adrenaline made him sober up from nearly falling off the edge of his window. The world was supposed to end four years ago, in 2012. And when Taecyeon thought about that, it made him want to laugh. But Chansung frowned deeply and sat back down in front of Taecyeon. Really, now where did Drunk Chansung go?
"I wish you'd be more careful," Chansung said under his breath.
"Hey,” Taecyeon stuck out a finger at him, “I’m very careful, okay. It’s just you- You're supposed to be doing something. You said-" Taecyeon's eyebrows furrowed. He tried to remember what Chansung had said at the party before Chansung left early but Taecyeon couldn't recall. He hadn't been paying attention. Well, okay, it was kind of hard to pay attention when Chansung’s hands were all over him and the warmth of his breath made Taecyeon’s brain go into a spiral of loopy circles and those lips were always moving, saying something but it was the plush color that caught his attention, not the words. Taecyeon watched Chansung's contemplating face, the one that was analyzing the universe or whatever complex thing existed out there. Maybe that's why the face had a complexion-it encompassed a lot of complex things.
Just when Chansung relaxed, staring off into the distance, did Taecyeon remember what Chansung had said. He slammed his fist on the wood. "You said you wanted to be alone." It wasn't accusing, but filled with wonder because it really wasn’t anything Taecyeon had imagined after all, when Chansung said, “I want.” He wanted to be alone. At the end of the sentence, Taecyeon's tongue curled and if there were more to be said, he wouldn't have been able to phrase them aloud. His throat closed. Flashes of heat reddened his face. His ear went on fire, thinking that what Chansung had said, whispered, then licked, was better than any ear candy he’d ever had. But for some unreadable reason, Chansung smiled. It wasn’t the same like Party Chansung’s smile, completely unrestrained and free. But it was close and almost as dreamy. Chansung didn't respond for awhile nor did his eyes meet Taecyeon's. And for that long pause, Taecyeon tried to form words but could not, until he saw Chansung's smile beginning to dissipate and something burned in his chest and the words flew out of his mouth. "Why do you want to be alone?"
"I'm not alone right now, am I?" Chansung answered. His smile was ever so cryptic but it made Taecyeon want to mirror him.
"How aren't you alone right now?" Taecyeon asked. "How-" Oh. Oh. Chansung nodded knowingly but an afterthought flashed through his face and then he shrugged. That smile was softer now, and did not leave his face. So, that was what he wanted. Taecyeon stood up, swaying once again and Chansung seemed to be on his guard now, in case Taecyeon fell over. Taecyeon held his hands out to reassure Chansung, as if saying, I'm good, and then hiked up his jeans. "How'd you get inside, though?" Taecyeon questioned, "'Cause I got in with my keys," he explained, twirling the keys around his finger.
Chansung grinned lopsidedly. "Those are your car keys, hyung." He proceeded to fish through his pocket and pull out a set of different keys. "These are your house keys."
Taecyeon's face contorted to the something like, what the fuck, and shook his head adamantly. "No, these are the keys," shaking them in his hand, "I- used- them- to- get- in." He had accentuated every syllable like throwing darts.
Chansung bit down on his lip to suppress a laugh and he looked to the side, as if the night sky were more important. "Hyung, I left the door unlocked for you."
"What if some stranger came inside?" Taecyeon asked, though he wasn't truly upset. He felt sort of numb. "Are you even in your right mind?"
Chansung raised an eyebrow. "What if some dangerous thief had taken your house keys instead? Are you in your right mind? To leave your things on the table at the party?"
Taecyeon crossed his arms and felt his face tighten. "Weren't we talking about you?" He stood in that stance like a statue, glaring at Chansung until Chansung couldn't hold the gazing war and looked away. Chansung drew his knees to his chest and hugged them. Then Taecyeon's frame went jelly again, this time out of exhaustion. Fighting took a lot of energy, he realized. He still had that headache to deal with and he didn't need more weight to plunge his head into a migraine. "Okay, I don't want to do this," Taecyeon muttered. Chansung turned his head and looked at Taecyeon with attentive eyes, pupils dancing in them. He reached out for Taecyeon's hand and placed the keys inside the palm and then gently curled the fingers around it.
They stared out into the night together, though sometimes Taecyeon stared more at the back of Chansung's head than the fireworks outside. Was this really the same person from the party? It seemed so long ago and yet it had only been a few hours since then. The wind was gentle so it didn't sweep up the fireworks with it but the scent of smoke did waft through the window. Taecyeon wasn't sure where that was coming from, but maybe someone down the neighborhood was having a barbeque. At around three am in the morning, yes. He was hungry again. But another idea surfaced into his mind before he made the decision to trek down the stairs and look for food in his kitchen. He tapped Chansung's shoulder a couple of times before Chansung finally looked up with a questioning look. Taecyeon grinned. He spread out his arms wide and shook his shoulders side to side, his gesture asking, wanna dance?
If Taecyeon was right, he saw Chansung's cheeks flush apple blossom rose. As much as Chansung's body said yes, Chansung bashfully shook his head no. Taecyeon slumped his shoulders dramatically and puppy faced at the babyface. That seemed to do it. Chansung tilted his head back with a melodious laugh and he rose up to his feet. But he stood there, unsure and hesitating to take a step toward Taecyeon.
"Come on, Chansung-ah," Taecyeon prodded him with a winning smile. He bowed his head and held out his hand. "Waltz with me?" Taecyeon shut his eyes then, hoping to feel the warmth pool into his hand. It did. Taecyeon looked up and grinned. He tightened his clutch over Chansung's hand and hauled him close. That knocked the wind out of Chansung but he smiled, too. Chansung's eyes glittered like butterscotch pools. It was hard not to get carried away.
They stumbled a bit, their steps uneven. They hadn't danced together in a while, not since Chansung taught and guided Taecyeon through his practices for his solo stage, Traicion, in Japan. It was hard to dance without music but the both of them were staring at each other's feet and were trying to correct the other's footsteps. Sometimes their heads bumped together. They laughed and giggled, a couple of times Chansung gave a little shove and Taecyeon would step on Chansung's foot in revenge. Finally, they found the rhythm they were looking for, dancing through the room in slow, gentle circles. Their fluid synchronization gave Taecyeon a sense of satisfaction, something that he also saw on Chansung's face because Chansung didn't stop grinning. They waltzed to the beat of the fireworks whistling and popping through the air.
“Actually, when I think about it, you’re horrible,” Taecyeon said while they danced, unable to hide the smile on his face. Chansung’s behavior at the party had only rewinded through Taecyeon’s head several hundred times. Accursed vivid memories, Taecyeon frowned to himself. Yes, definitely horrible.
“What?” Chansung asked with a laugh. He shook his head as if he couldn’t understand Taecyeon’s conclusion. Truthfully, Taecyeon couldn’t understand it either because when Chansung was in front him, it was hard to not want to bite down on those cute lips and cute eyes or cute- Friends could be adorable, right? No, of course not.
Somewhere along the way, Taecyeon changed his steps and Chansung stumbled into him. Their chests collided, parted mouths merely inches away and then Taecyeon laughed nervously. He spun Chansung away and then caught up to him and breathed, "Tango," which made Chansung want to burst into laughter. Taecyeon was serious with those waggling eyebrows though. He felt like they suited the stepping forward, stepping backward, pining for love kind of dance better than anything else. He tried to sing some generic latin pop song to fill it in, but that didn't work out so well. Chansung bit his lip to hold in his bubbling laughter. Then, Taecyeon resorted to humming Traicion, but not without attempting to sing the Spanish lyrics first. (This also did not go well, but Taecyeon saw the beaming, bright smile on Chansung’s face. That was the Party smile he wanted to see. The one that gave him butterflies. And he’d later realize that would be the smile he would miss the most.)
It was like a dream, but they danced and danced away into the night.
D-71
we can’t take our time; believe me, you’re not mine;
almond-scented, sweet brachetto wine - (un)love song
Los Angeles was divine. Mid-January in California was like a cool spring day, the breeze rustling through the leaves a tad chilly but the sun was relaxingly warm. They would sit by the pool edge where the horizon in front of them was engulfed by the shimmering cityscape of LA. They were, after all, on the crest of the extravagant Beverly Hills for a very special occasion, planning to spend the time there for about a week; though Minjun’s returning flight tickets were stamped for a stay of about a month or so. Afternoon birds were chirping nearby, the grill was sizzling, and the water lapped at the edge. Minjun’s legs were half submerged in the aquamarine pool as Wooyoung rubbed sunscreen on his back.
“Happy, happy, birthday, Minjunnie hyung~” Wooyoung sang as he dabbed the last bit of sunscreen on Minjun’s nape. Minjun laughed. Another breeze fluttered through the deck and it felt good, with the wind running across Minjun’s sun-kissed skin. He adjusted his scarlet red snapback over his hair, and kicked gently into the cool water. Junho had entered the patio from the sliding back door, holding a platter of sliced watermelon. Wooyoung gasped and leapt after Junho. “You got us watermelon! Seeded, right?” Wooyoung asked, clapping his hands. Junho’s eye smile was hard to see behind the sunglasses but it was there on the edge of his lips as he lifted a slice and fed it to Wooyoung.
“I don’t wanna find any seeds on the patio deck!” Minjun called out. This lavish house definitely not theirs, but a close friend’s of Minjun’s they usually visited when they came to LA. Really, Minjn visited LA the most because this was his soul city and Wooyoung and Junho knew how much it meant for Minjun so they paid for the entire trip as a birthday present.
“Yeah, yeah, birthday man,” Junho answered, and they all knew he was rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses. He handed the platter to Wooyoung as he slipped off his flip flops and sat by the edge of pool. He shivered at the water hitting his feet and shins but after a few minutes, the water soothed it down. Fluffy strands of Junho’s hair floated in the breeze every once in a while and he unbuttoned the collar of his white shirt and rolled up his sleeves. “When’s Chansung coming?” he asked suddenly. Those words- there was a heavy elephant in the middle of the patio then, and they all tried to forget how it was hard to breathe.
Wooyoung crouched next to Junho, not willing to put his feet in the water yet. “Dunno,” he replied easily, answer muffled into the slice of the watermelon. The three of them promptly stared at the sun reflecting off the water. It was hypnotic. They could sift through the tiny waves of the pool and blend into the blueness of the water and forget. They could do that. But the wind awoke them from their trance. Wooyoung tugged down his gray tank top over his red swimming shorts every time the breeze came in, muttering that it kept riding up his back. Junho would tap Wooyoung’s shoulder for a slice every once in a while and Wooyoung handed an already eaten one on purpose, laughing. Junho slapped his shoulder with the back of his hand and finally, Wooyoung passed a full slice over to him. A thought came to him. “You know, I actually think they got on the same flight,” Wooyoung said. He realize his voice had quieted down. Their thoughts were surfing along the same wave, it was obvious. That New Year’s party.
But it was two weeks ago. Drunkenness lowers inhibitions on occasion and sometimes things that are not meant to be seen were in front of their eyes and all they need to do was- simply forget. Of course. Junho was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. He stroked his hair and tugged at a knot and did it again, for good measure. He sighed. “When Chansung comes, I’m gonna talk to him.”
“What about?” Minjun asked, pretending to be innocent. He frowned though, not wanting party poopers to ruin his birthday.
“That,” Junho quipped, gesturing the empty space in front of him. It was like as if the memories of the New Year’s incident would surface right then and there in tangible form but- They all knew. No one was going to say it explicitly. The sound of watermelon being split in half reverberated in the air with a loud snap. All eyes went to Wooyoung, who grinned sheepishly, knowing that was inappropriate at that moment but Wooyoung shrugged. He had broken the ice anyway. Wooyoung was about to hand the broken half to Junho as a peace offering but Junho stood up, grabbing a towel and wiping down his legs. “I’m gonna get the cantaloupe,” Junho announced flatly.
“You cut the honeydew, right?” Wooyoung asked. “‘Cause I bought those too.” Wooyoung pouted as Junho seemingly ignored him. But at the last moment, Junho ruffled Wooyoung’s bird nest hair as he walked past him. Wooyoung grinned, as if knowing he’d won some type of battle. He gave a thumbs up to Minjun. “Don’t worry, hyung, I’m not gonna let anything ruin your party,” he said, “not even Taecyeon and Chansung making out if it comes down to that.”
Minjun burst into laughter, slapping the water with his hands. But Junho had turned around to glare at them through his glasses, having slid the patio door open halfway and frowned deeply. He looked as though he wanted to retort something venomous but decided to step inside the house anyway, clearly running into bodily warmth and stumbling back out onto the patio again with a yell.
“Watch it,” Taecyeon muttered, stepping out and sliding the door behind him. The sun glinted off his sunglasses.
“You watch where you’re-” Junho paused with a jawdrop, finger pointing at him. He took off his sunglasses. “What the hell, why are you-”
“Don’t ask,” Taecyeon interrupted. But it was hard not to point and laugh at Taecyeon’s get up, since he was wearing the shiny pink button up shirt he had worn during the My Ear’s Candy performance in LA two years ago, April. His hair was styled up- too formal for a pool party, which had Wooyoung opening his mouth and wanting to ask why, just why but Taecyeon held out a hand to stop him, too. Minjun only casually shrugged at the spectacle. It was amusing. Especially since Taecyeon was wearing black swimming shorts to accompany the bubble gum shirt, and green flip flops, with the black bow tie wilting in the breeze. Taecyeon adjusted the candy pink collar, cleared his throat and walked stoically to the grill. “What’s smoking?” Taecyeon asked nonchalantly, lifting the cover. He tried to pretend the attention was not on him. But three pairs of eyes conveying a mixture of what is going on and why pink? and you piece of shit for flirting with Chansung were kind of difficult to ignore. Taecyeon tugged at his collar uncomfortably, and coughed at the smoke tendrils that filled his nose.
“Definitely not you,” Junho muttered, slipping past the patio doors. Junho must’ve decided not to pick a fight there, thankfully. But Wooyoung snickered.
Taecyeon stuck out a tongue in the direction of where Junho went and grumbled to himself. “But hey, samgyupsal,” he said with lifted spirits, glancing at the grill again. “Nichkhun’s favorite, it’s too bad he’s stuck at his brother’s wedding.”
“They probably have a lot of samgyupsal there, too,” Minjun said, as he pulled his legs out of the water, rubbing them down with a towel. He didn’t stand up but brought his knees to his chin. “And he’s coming here tomorrow, so it’s fine.” Taecyeon nodded, placing the cover back onto the grill. Minjun stared at Wooyoung and Taecyeon thoughtfully, and there weren’t any sunglasses to shield the dark glinting eyes. Minjun readjusted his snapback again. “Hey listen, I’ve got something to announce.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re getting married, bruh,” a voice piped up from behind them. They all turned heads toward the patio door, where they saw Jay leaning against the doorframe. Jay’s face was shadowed with a Seattle Seahawks snapback, but it didn’t hide the smile wide on his lips. More tattoos covered his neck and left arm from the last time they had seen him, at least that was from all the skin was visible to them. Who knew how much more he had added throughout the years. He was clad with a short sleeved shirt and shorts and nike shoes. Wooyoung’s eyes were as wide as teacup saucers because Jay, holy crap while Taecyeon’s jaw dropped to the floor. But Taecyeon’s eyes were onto Jay’s neck, where a few of the stars tattooed on his skin peeped out from underneath the collar and a gold chain and gave Taecyeon a chill. He hadn’t seen those in a long time, but every time he did see them, he was always reminded of what they used to be. Seven on stage.
“Not if I’m marrying Audrey,” Minjun joked. Audrey was Minjun’s adored dog, pictured and filmed in more than half of the posts on his instagram account. Minjun stood up and gave Jay a fistbump. Jay grinned lopsidedly and patted the back of Minjun’s head. Jay turned to the others.
“‘Ey, stop staring at me like that, it ain’t like I’m naked or anythin’- Oh, but that,” Jay pointed at Taecyeon’s shirt, “that is-”
“A manly color,” Taecyeon finished for him. Jay’s mouth was hanging for another comment, probably more like a question, but Taecyeon shook his head sternly. “Nope, I said don’t ask, man.”
“Asshat,” Jay said, squinting at Taecyeon. “I’m gonna get my chance and I will ask.”
“The question to be asked is, how are you here, hyung?” Wooyoung took a step toward his hyungs. He crossed his arms, and glared at Minjun. Usually he seemed to be up to date with Minjun’s surprises and plans. But not this.
Minjun put an arm around Jay. “Jaebeom was in Seattle-”
“And I thought why the heck not?” Jay filled in, shrugging his shoulders. Taecyeon knew why. They hadn’t seen Jay in long time and since Minjun and Taecyeon were getting enlisted, they might as well see Jay at least once before they headed over. Perhaps Junho knew something about this since he and Wooyoung were the ones who bought the tickets for Minjun. But then again, Junho might blow a gasket as well for not knowing. Taecyeon decided he didn’t want to know. Besides, during off time, Jay would usually frequent to Seattle where his family lived, so really it might have been simple coincidence. He knew this was a wish they all had, wanting to see Jay again, not on the basis that someone else was leaving. Over the years, Taecyeon did run into Jay, brief awkward meetings where they caught up with the news. Jay was fine. Everyone else was fine. That was how it was supposed to be.
Some news, they knew about because they had subconsciously kept track of each other, and there were some that were meant to be hidden. Taecyeon felt an arm go around his broad shoulders and he smiled. He bent down to Jay’s height, which obviously insulted Jay and Jay smacked him across the head before stalking off to the grill to grab a plate.
“Here you go, birthday boy,” Jay said Minjun, handing a plate of steaming samgyupsal. It was still awkward between them and Jay, but for the sake of it, they tried to let it all sink back to what it used to be. It really was a distant memory, but the nostalgia kept Taecyeon’s lips smiling.
“Man,” Wooyoung corrected. “Birthday man.”
“Grandpa,” Taecyeon said. Jay and Minjun squinted at Taecyeon.
“If he’s grandpa, then what am I?” Jay had a thumb pointing at himself.
“What was it that you were going to announce?” Taecyeon asked Minjun, evading Jay’s question with a grin.
“I’m gonna kick your ass into that pool, you son of a bitch.” Jay held out the steaming tongs toward Taecyeon. Wooyoung hooted with laughter and Minjun grinned, obviously they both wanted to see Taecyeon get whipped. Ever since Jay left, there wasn’t anyone who could truly discipline Taecyeon like Jay could.
“Aw man, I really missed you,” Taecyeon gushed, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes.
“You’ve got six years’ worth of ass-whooping to do on that guy,” Wooyoung whispered loudly to Jay, giving him his approval. Jay glanced at Minjun, who also nodded with a wide smirk. Jay began to beat the tongs on his hand, biting into his lip like a lion baring his teeth.
Taecyeon stepped backward with a nervous smile, holding his hands up. “Hey, I’ve been a good boy. I took care of these kids and showed them infinity and beyond.” Taecyeon raised his arms up, showing the sky as “infinity and beyond.” But Jay scoffed through his nose with a big grin that Taecyeon couldn’t possibly wipe off, not even with a squeegee. He probably had hell coming for him. Taecyeon glanced down at his swimming shorts, not minding if those got wet. His shiny pink shirt that reflected every single sunray and made him radiate like the sun itself- that was not something he wanted to get wet at all and he wanted to curse- Oh. Oh. Taecyeon shot his head back up, the movement too fast that his sunglasses slipped off and fell onto the wooden planks. He had an idea. “I’ll tell you who made me wear this and you promise you won’t beat my ass,” he offered, the tone of his voice losing confidence by the end of the sentence. He flashed a nervous grin.
“Well yeah, obviously someone made ya wear it since you were all so tightlipped ‘bout it,” Jay babbled. “But we had ta ask, in case your fashion terrorist soul was speaking out again-or somethin’.” Jay’s face was contorted with a disgusting frown, as if considering Taecyeon’s offer. Jay looked to Minjun and Wooyoung, who were still eager to see Taecyeon get dumped into the pool, face first, ass last. Then his gaze went back to Taecyeon, who was standing comically in the sun, hands up, and some of his hair waving in the breeze. “Deal,” Jay said with finality. He seemed to surprise himself. Minjun and Wooyoung’s faces fell immediately. Wooyoung shook Jay’s shoulders.
“Aw, hyung! Come on,” Wooyoung protested. Minjun sighed but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face. It was too good to be true but even Jay bought Taecyeon’s devilish charms sometimes.
“Yes!” Taecyeon exclaimed with a lipbiting grin, curling his hand into a fist and bringing his arm down like a piece of shit winner.
“‘Ey, ‘ey, don’t you celebrate yet, you ass.” Jay waved the tongs in the air, like a weapon. “So tell me. Who was it?”
“Chansung.”
Jay was staring at Taecyeon like some wild alien had landed on earth. Taecyeon glanced at Wooyoung with a questioning look, but Wooyoung was mirroring Jay’s face, his expression actually looking like an alien. Then Taecyeon looked at Minjun, hoping Minjun would explain why the hell Wooyoung and Jay looked like they were about to invert their faces inside out. Minjun grimaced and pointed at his own cheeks, then pointed at Taecyeon, followed by a question mark drawn in the air. Oh. Taecyeon’s cheeks. He touched them, and they were feverishly warm to the pads of his fingers. He blanketed them up with his palms-still hot. Oh. He was blushing. Nah. Taecyeon wouldn’t blush at the thought of Chansung. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been the scorching sun, he was after all getting toasted in this pink shirt. The fabric was little thicker to give that glossy shine, but his legs and feet, open to the cool breeze were just fine. But now, the contrast of temperature reminded him of- Chansung’s warm tongue on his ear and the saliva cooling down even though his ear was burning. Taecyeon immediately covered his ears. His winged Dumbo ears glowed orangey-red in the sun, but blushing would make it too obvious. Damn it. This wasn’t happening. This was not happening at all.
“You said what?” Jay asked slowly.
“Chansung,” Taecyeon repeated. Damn his mouth for answering before thinking. Now Taecyeon wished he hadn’t said anything.
“So, he packed your bag and shit?”
“Yeah.”
Jay squinted. “This is...” Everyone seemed to lean in then, anticipating for his next words. “Unprecedented,” Jay said, and Minjun and Wooyoung sighed in disappointment. Even Taecyeon felt like the wrong word had been inserted for Jay’s usual catchphrase. It was a bad replacement. At a split second, the sunlight reflected off of Jay’s chain and blinded Taecyeon’s eyes. He used his hand to shield them, and his thoughts wandered off on a tangent. Where the hell was Junho? Fetching another plate of cantaloupe and cutting up some honeydew couldn’t take that long. Unless Junho was trying to grow them.
The patio door slid open.
“Don’t you mean conspiracy, hyung? Don’t you always say everything is a conspiracy? What happened to that?” Chansung asked casually, as he stepped out onto the patio, carrying a box of pizza toward them. He had that benign smile on him.
“I grew up,” Jay answered mindlessly, waving a hand. He turned though, upon realizing who had talked to him. “You-! You, what you done to my homie?” he accused, pointing his tongs threateningly at Chansung. So, Jay took Taecyeon’s side, surprisingly enough. Minjun and Wooyoung gaped. But that in turn made Chansung stare at Jay’s homie, Taecyeon, and their eyes locked on each other. Taecyeon’s vision flickered, going blurry and fading out at the edges because of the heat or something, he figured. He started to see doubles of Chansung and the pizza box. Doubles of pizza was great. That was totally great. And now the idea of getting pushed into the pool didn’t seem like such a bad idea. As long as Taecyeon’s head was submerged underwater where he couldn’t even see the distorted reflection of Chansung, doubles or anything more, then really, it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He willed for Jay to kick his ass. Or something. He needed to get away.
They stared. Taecyeon kind of missed seeing fireworks in those doe-eyes. No, he didn’t. But they stared. And stared. And stared.
Wooyoung snuck toward Chansung, took ahold of the pizza and Chansung’s shoulders and lead them both to the table next to the grill. But Chansung’s eyes never left Taecyeon. Neither did Taecyeon’s.
Silence hung ominously between all of them.
“EHEY!” Jay burst into forced obnoxious laughter, clapping Taecyeon and Chansung on their backs. “So y’all doin’ great, that’s fantastic!” But immediately, Jay’s face went expressionless when he turned to Taecyeon. “Dude, you’re comin’ with me,” he said, hooking a finger on Taecyeon’s pink collar. He proceeded to drag Taecyeon back inside the house.
part 2
Team: Future
Rating: R
Fandom: 2PM, Jay Park
Pairing: Taecyeon/Chansung
Summary: Taecyeon goes to a series of parties where he gets stuck in situations that ask him to question his feelings.
Warnings: Cussing, alcohol, sexually suggestive scenes
Author’s note: Much thanks to the mod for being so patient with me, to C for cheering me on, to M for listening to me, to R for reading this in the shortest amount of time given, to the many others who supported me (hugs hugs hugs), and lastly, to my dearest #teamqtpies for giving the memorable experience ever.
Prompt used: The lyrics of History’s What am I to You.
D-84
i’m two quarters and a heart down - dance, dance
It was three am in the morning when Taecyeon fumbled with the car keys in his hand, frick, and tried to use those to unlock the door to his home. It didn't seem to work. Then he tried fiddling with the knob and to his surprise, the door swung open, and he let out a gibberish exclamation of triumph. His footsteps stumbled a bit, making him sway left and right like a boat on water. Some two year old song about choco cream pie was stuck in his head and he rap-slurred it like a drunken man's serenade. What’syourfetish,girl? Guywhoraps? Ohdamnthat’sme, he giggled breathily and blew an air-kiss to his hair-tousled, red-lipped, half-lidded reflection as he passed by a mirror. Booming New Year's fireworks still rang in his ears and whenever he shut his eyes, he could see them vividly, blooming, with palm leaves of speckled light glittering across the night sky. They had all clapped each other's backs in celebration for the new year and laughed in joy at the spectacle. Though they had been watching fireworks their whole lives, every time it happened, it brought 2PM together with beaming smiles and shimmering eyes. They had spent many of their New Years at one of the Gayos, huddling together during the countdown. This time, they had done the same to keep their tradition. But something was missing.
Chansung had left early.
Everything had started out normal, the usual chaos at the party with the six of them. Their many wild and crazy friends were invited, and they lit up their own firecrackers that went pop-pop-pop like bullets pulsing through the air. Paper lanterns glowed soft yellow orbs and floated above their heads like halos. Clinking bottles were passed around and poured sloppily into red plastic cups while the chitter-chatter hummed in their ears. Bursts of obnoxious laughter would crack like lightning through the soft chattering hum every once in a while, and then eyes would glance back and forth sending telepathic messages like, he’s drunk as fuck, and god, I know right. Taecyeon didn’t expect to have any of those eye-to-eye conversations but once he downed a cup of something tongue-curling sweet and bubbly burning, he set it down and froze-moon-glittering eyes had met his gaze. His breath was caught in his throat.
Still very normal, until the rest of the face emerged from the blur of passing people and it was Chansung flushed-face and milk-skinned, floating through the crowd, approaching him. Oh, I could drink that, Taecyeon murmured to himself, but then choked in realization that such an idea had surfaced in his mind. He would never, for the life of him, want to drink Chansung’s skin. He quickly grabbed a bottle and sunk that into his lips. Nope. Everything was still normal. Everything was fine. He had swallowed too fast and the burning sensation seared his throat and oh-now his neck, too-and he turned to see what was causing the heated touch. Chansung. His heart raced wildly. But here Chansung was, chin on Taecyeon’s shoulder, smile all too alluring and Taecyeon could see the billowing fireworks in Chansung’s pupils. So Taecyeon stopped and stared. And stared. And stared.
“Hi,” Chansung breathed with a lazy, dreamy smile. Dazed, Taecyeon had to stop himself from falling over at the overwhelming fragrance of vanilla and alcohol. He found himself hitching fingers onto the seams of Chansung’s shirt to steady himself. Chansung’s doe-eyes widened, and he glanced down and up. Something changed right there. Taecyeon would cringe if he could but the whistle of a firecracker blinded his hearing momentarily and all he saw were moving lips that looked so unreasonably wet. Captivating. Oh, Chansung was saying something. Maybe it was important. But when the sound came back to him, it was the bottleneck that had slipped out from his fingers and shattered on the ground. Someone whooped in the background and there were several waves of clapping that followed. A dog howled from somewhere down the street and Taecyeon could leave his body for those sounds outside the overheating bubble he was in. Alas, he was snapped back to the reality where he was suddenly pressed against the edge of a table, with Chansung on him, chest to chest, hip to hip.
“What-” Taecyeon panicked but Chansung put a finger to his lips, hushing him. What the fuck? What was Chansung doing? This wasn’t- normal. This was utterly wrong and yet, he let Chansung hold the nape of Taecyeon’s neck and move up closer, closer, lips nearly grazing, noses eskimo-kissing.
“Happy New Year’s, hyung,” he whispered, like it was a secret only lovers shared. Maybe he thought Taecyeon’s face looked funny so he giggled.
“How... how drunk are you?” Taecyeon asked slowly, trying to step away but he was pinned to the table’s edge and couldn’t move elsewhere. Chansung’s lips were so plump and full and Taecyeon thought he could let gravity draw him in and sink a thirsty wet mouth between those inviting appleblossom lips-but the thought of it made Taecyeon’s fingers curl into fists. He had to back up now. If only he could. Chansung’s lipbiting grin wouldn’t leave his face. Maybe Taecyeon didn’t want it to ever leave that face. Yes, he did. Of course, he did, because this was wrong.
“Very, very drunk, I guess,” Chansung finally answered, bouncing a little on his feet. Somehow, that should have rung warning bells in Taecyeon’s head but it didn’t. He quite liked this unrestrained Chansung. Yes, Taecyeon had spoken to soon. Chansung’s thumb traced Taecyeon’s lips, blinking slowly, absorbing the touch. His other hand slid past the nape and underneath the collar. He licked his lip as he traced a finger around the collar, mouth parting as he reached the collarbone and then tugged it down. Chansung seemed so breathless all of a sudden. Okay, don’t panic. Taecyeon clasped onto Chansung’s wrist to halt him.
“Chansung, what the hell are you doing?” Taecyeon whispered urgently, trying to unhook the maknae’s finger but he just wouldn’t give in. “Chansung?”
Chansung pursed his lips, which turned into miles and miles of a gushy smile that made Taecyeon involuntarily step backward. Taecyeon knocked further into several bottles and glasses that clinked and clattered against each other on the table. Some of them spilled to the ground and a couple of bottles rolled off the table’s edge and shattered. Suddenly, all this undivided attention was too much for him. He was supposed to be used to it, especially since he was accustomed to being on stage with thousands of fans staring and screaming at him. Okay, he’d admit he had the occasional stagefright sometimes but this- this proximity made him squirm, and yet, his hands were latched onto Chansung’s shirt again, pulling him in. Taecyeon could tell that Chansung relished it all too much, rosy cheeks and dreamy smiles. Maybe Chansung wanted more, because he gestured Taecyeon to move closer, so he could whisper something.
Despite his misgivings, Taecyeon did lean in and tilt his head and Chansung looped his arms around Taecyeon’s neck. Perhaps he shouldn’t have indulged in Chansung’s request, Taecyeon thought. But before he could recant his decision, hot air caressed his neck and ear. His face grew red, trying to bite back the urge to moan from the pleasurable buzz. Chansung’s low, buttery voice did things to him. Undid him. Taecyeon’s fingertips dug into skin and fabric, maybe, maybe, he was getting intoxicated by this more than alcohol ever could, lifting him into clouds that stirred the flickering fire in him. But, no, no, this was wrong. He wanted to resist. He had to. Taecyeon’s hands rested on Chansung’s chest now, Taecyeon could push him away and run like the wind but-
That wasn’t even the beginning. His protests melted. He should’ve fought more, but Chansung was breathing so close to his ear and the heat was addicting and-
“I want,” Chansung whispered sultrily in his ear. “I just want.” And that alone sent hot shivers down Taecyeon’s spine.
Taecyeon turned, so their eyes could meet. This feeling. It was like he couldn’t have enough of it and yet, he needed to run from it-"What do you want?” Taecyeon asked, his voice lower than he had expected. He would have slapped himself right there and then because the depth of his voice only made Chansung’s lips curl into a blushing grin. He shut his eyes. He had to. Chansung’s fingers had slipped underneath Taecyeon’s shirt and his thumbs had rested on hip bones, pressing in. Taecyeon breathed out slowly. His eyes fluttered open and Chansung was staring at him, eyes burning with fervor. Okay. This was war. Taecyeon could go with this, he decided. Just to let Chansung think he could lead Taecyeon on. “What do you want, Chansung-ah? Let me give it you,” he offered gently. He laid a thumb on Chansung’s chin and smiled like sugar.
Sweet. Surprised by the turn of events, Chansung stepped back, his face going beet-red. This time, Taecyeon moved in, maintaining that closeness they had before. Taecyeon realized when the separation split the bubble in half, the cool wintery air rushed back in and he felt almost-naked and he needed, thirsted, for that heat back. But his mind was working on something else, and he glanced down Chansung’s body, wondering if the truth would protrude, behind the zipper. But when Taecyeon did that, his focus was like a pinball, unable to stay in one spot anymore, his own mind-in-gutter running away on his original intent, and he was consumed by the urge to press up against that body that seemed to fit within his. No. No. That was wrong.
“Chansung, do you want... all of this?” Taecyeon ran his hands across his chest and down his torso, fingertips getting caught on the buttons. He could unbutton his own shirt for Chansung right now. He’d done that before. What Chansung was seeing wasn’t anything new. But Chansung hiccupped and stepped further back. Taecyeon stepped closer. “Chansung,” he murmured as he leaned in close to the ear, “I know what you want. I could give it you. Give you everything.” He licked his lips, knowing full Chansung could hear the tongue slipping across the lip and wetting it red and glistening. He breathily laughed because he knew Chansung’s heart must’ve been parading a ruckus inside that chest that Taecyeon so very needily wanted to hold onto, and cuddle, then touch, and trace, and map-no, never. Not in a million years, and not when Chansung boldly moved close as well, their bodies flushed together and Taecyeon couldn’t gasp without admitting that this-felt hot.
“No, hyung,” Chansung whispered in his ear, “you couldn’t even imagine.” There was a huff of warmth that kissed up on his skin and left it all sensitive. Blood pounded in Taecyeon’s head as Chansung’s hand shuffled through his clothes and ran it up against Taecyeon’s skin, fingertips grazing slow trails up his body. Oh, no. Taecyeon clutched onto him. He had to clench his teeth down, and bite his lip to suppress the moan that was stuck in his throat and-no, he felt something warm and wet outlining the shell of his ear and he couldn’t- Taecyeon let the moan drip out of his parted mouth and he turned his head away, flushed, swallowing in embarrassment. The saliva went cold against his heated ear like ice on fire and the contrast washed him inside and out with a bubbly, tingly burst.
Chansung guided Taecyeon’s chin so they were facing each other. It was as if Chansung was telling his hyung silently to look at him if Taecyeon wanted to bare his naked underside that he’d been hiding for so long. Show it to me, was everything Chansung’s intensely chocolate eyes said, and Taecyeon was enamored by those glittery eyes again, watching the fireworks whizz and pop through that reflection. “See,” Chansung said with a buttery smile, “I told you. I still have tricks up my sleeve.”
He was a fool. Oh, such a fool, he was. Taecyeon snapped out of the trance, rubbing at his ear with his fingers. He could feel Chansung’s saliva slicking up his fingers and he curled them into the palm of his hand, squeezing it tight. Tight enough that he could’ve cut off his own blood circulation. He had to fucking run. “Chansung-ah,” he began, lightheaded and dizzy. Chansung didn’t move, nor did he even plan to. If he did, he walked Taecyeon backward to the table and grabbed a bottle and swished it down his throat. “Chansung-ah,” Taecyeon repeated.
“Mmm,” Chansung hummed into the bottle mouth. Taecyeon snatched the bottle away from him, spilling a bit onto Chansung’s shirt before putting it to his own lips. He swallowed big gulps that made his chest burn, masking and fizzling away at the other heat that had consumed him from Chansung’s touch.
“I,” Taecyeon gulped it down and saw stars underneath his eyelids, “I know exactly what you want.” And then he broke into giggles because Chansung had, and his dimples must’ve done something to Chansung because now Chansung was blushing. Chansung reached up and thumbed the dimples until Taecyeon stopped smiling, but it was hard to stop because he liked Chansung tracing the features on his face. No, he didn’t. But he saw Chansung’s smile falter when his did, though Chansung’s doe-eyes were very much covered with a sheen of sparkly fireworks and blossoming ardor. “Let me show you how much I know,” Taecyeon continued. “Just watch.”
“Watch you?” Chansung breathed with babyface wonder.
As soon as Taecyeon stepped away, he really did feel the cold air swarm around him. In seconds, the warmth and heat they had shared and fueled dissipated fast. Something tugged achingly in his chest, so he turned back and grabbed another bottle, listening to the liquid slosh against the glass walls as it filled his mouth and throat with icy cold. It burned and subsided. Taecyeon kept walking further away from Chansung, closing his eyes and inhaling in the wintery air that bit at his lungs. For that moment he was with Chansung, he had forgotten it was still winter. Now that the bubble had burst open, the cold breeze crept through his clothes and chilled what Chansung had touched. He felt as though the winter was erasing it all away, but his dizzying headache did not fade out, as much as he wished it would. Taecyeon glanced over his shoulder once more, giving Chansung a lopsided grin. “Yeah, watch me,” he called out and bit his lip like he was a confident piece of shit. Watch me run.
He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, but at the first woman he saw, her back facing him, he approached her. He dipped his chin onto her shoulder from behind and she turned her head a little, with a surprised gasp. Realizing who it was, she smile and greeted him. Taecyeon smiled back and placed his hands on her waist. It felt right, to hold such curves in his hands that Chansung did not have. It felt destined. She let her hands rest on his and she began to talk about something, not that Taecyeon was truly listening. I know how to cheat, Taecyeon thought to himself with a smirk. He turned her around and complimented how gorgeous she was, making her laugh with delight. And when Taecyeon glanced to see if Chansung was watching him, Taecyeon was disappointed. Taecyeon had wanted the pleasure of seeing jealousy and hurt on Chansung’s face. Oh. But he knows how to play, Taecyeon muttered to himself silently with a sigh because- Chansung was gone. Taecyeon didn’t know how long Chansung had disappeared, but hopefully not so long to at least witness what Taecyeon had done. And Taecyeon thought he saw Chansung’s dejected shadow walking past the fence toward his car but there had been too many people blurring by.
Taecyeon touched his ear again, then placed his fingers to his lips. He could still taste Chansung’s loneliness.
*
At home, Taecyeon kicked hard enough until his shoes flew off and hit the wall. It did not make a pleasant sound but Taecyeon waved a hand of dismissal. "Bah," he mumbled, which in Drunk Taecyeon language meant, who cares.
The notes of the song falling out of Taecyeon's mouth morphed from cream pie rap to a waltzing sequence. Taecyeon spun around, babbling, "Da-da-dadada-da-da-da circus~" He pranced around and around in flowering circles that made his head thrum with a dizzying headache. It wasn’t like the headache from before had gone away, but he had forgotten about it until he spun around and the weight settled again. Something fell as he knocked into his furniture and though his mind was already in the gutter, he did wish he had a partner to dance with. So, he spread his arms wide and pretended that the airy, invisible figure in front of him, matching his footsteps, was his partner in crime. This interpretive dance was going fine, he thought, feeling like some tangible form of happiness (or craziness) had been dumped over his head like a bucket of ice and he felt jittery and bouncy.
Taecyeon shuddered as a draft of wintery cool air hit his face when his swaying body took him to his bedroom. He couldn't remember leaving the window open but where was his brain now, Taecyeon knew he couldn't exactly trust his memory at that point. When Taecyeon moonwalked into his room and turned around, he froze. His window was indeed open. On the wooden sill, a dark and frail silhouette was resting, back leaning against the frame, and one knee propped up. The silhouette seemed to be rubbing their face, like the world was going to end and there was no more hope. At first, warning bells rang through Taecyeon's head. Okay, so those were working, when they hadn’t before. He felt like he was underwater and his movements were jelly. There was no way he could fight with a burglar right now. He grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a lamp, and Taecyeon supposed that was better than a frying pan, at least. But as Taecyeon moved closer and several more bursts of fireworks lit up the sky, the facial features of the silhouette materialized out of the darkness.
"Boogaloo!" Taecyeon shouted his war-cry, and he raised the lamp high in the air. But he paused at the sight of the bone-tired face. Exhaustion and weariness in the form of hollowed out, bags of black circling those doe-eyes haunted him. "Chansung?" Taecyeon murmured in shock, and he let go of the lamp. It crashed onto the floor like the sound of glass breaking and Chansung visibly winced. But Taecyeon wasn't bothered by that. He blinked once, twice, thrice, four times and the sight of Chansung still refused to register in his brain. Then the warm touches resurfaced and gave him shivers and tried to shake himself out of that. That was not what Chansung was supposed to do to him. "You're not-supposed ta... to... uh... hmm," Taecyeon swallowed his words down his throat. He couldn't recognize the sound of his own voice. And he still kept blinking, scrutinizing Chansung.
“Do I look like a goat to you?” Chansung asked quietly. Taecyeon nearly smiled at that, remembering two years ago where he had to film the party version of Go Crazy with a goat. A real goat. Or maybe it was ram, he couldn’t really remember. Same difference.
“You sound like Junho,” Taecyeon muttered, scratching his stomach. “And no, you’re a very handsome goat. There is a difference.”
Chansung's mouth twitched, like he had wanted to smile too but something held him back. Under the moonlight and the flickering lights of the fireworks, the color of his lips were the softest pink, like cotton candy. But it was peppered by sprinkles of rainbow from time to time when bursts of fire bloomed in the sky.
Not this again. Taecyeon rubbed his eyes and smacked his lips. Chansung wasn't saying anything to explain himself and so Taecyeon plopped down on the white painted wood of the window sill. He leaned off the edge to glance down below, teetering for a moment before Chansung bolted up and grabbed Taecyeon harshly, his fingertips digging crescent moons into Taecyeon's skin.
"Careful," Chansung whispered, worried lines criss-crossing his face. Taecyeon blinked slowly at Chansung and noted that the babyface was still there, but it was masked with something else. Hurt? Betrayal? Taecyeon might have begrudgingly taken half of the blame for this, for flirting with that woman, but he shrugged it off. It was no big deal. What the big deal was, lied in Chansung’s face.
"You look like the world's gonna end today," Taecyeon said loudly, and surprised himself with how clear that statement was made. Maybe the adrenaline made him sober up from nearly falling off the edge of his window. The world was supposed to end four years ago, in 2012. And when Taecyeon thought about that, it made him want to laugh. But Chansung frowned deeply and sat back down in front of Taecyeon. Really, now where did Drunk Chansung go?
"I wish you'd be more careful," Chansung said under his breath.
"Hey,” Taecyeon stuck out a finger at him, “I’m very careful, okay. It’s just you- You're supposed to be doing something. You said-" Taecyeon's eyebrows furrowed. He tried to remember what Chansung had said at the party before Chansung left early but Taecyeon couldn't recall. He hadn't been paying attention. Well, okay, it was kind of hard to pay attention when Chansung’s hands were all over him and the warmth of his breath made Taecyeon’s brain go into a spiral of loopy circles and those lips were always moving, saying something but it was the plush color that caught his attention, not the words. Taecyeon watched Chansung's contemplating face, the one that was analyzing the universe or whatever complex thing existed out there. Maybe that's why the face had a complexion-it encompassed a lot of complex things.
Just when Chansung relaxed, staring off into the distance, did Taecyeon remember what Chansung had said. He slammed his fist on the wood. "You said you wanted to be alone." It wasn't accusing, but filled with wonder because it really wasn’t anything Taecyeon had imagined after all, when Chansung said, “I want.” He wanted to be alone. At the end of the sentence, Taecyeon's tongue curled and if there were more to be said, he wouldn't have been able to phrase them aloud. His throat closed. Flashes of heat reddened his face. His ear went on fire, thinking that what Chansung had said, whispered, then licked, was better than any ear candy he’d ever had. But for some unreadable reason, Chansung smiled. It wasn’t the same like Party Chansung’s smile, completely unrestrained and free. But it was close and almost as dreamy. Chansung didn't respond for awhile nor did his eyes meet Taecyeon's. And for that long pause, Taecyeon tried to form words but could not, until he saw Chansung's smile beginning to dissipate and something burned in his chest and the words flew out of his mouth. "Why do you want to be alone?"
"I'm not alone right now, am I?" Chansung answered. His smile was ever so cryptic but it made Taecyeon want to mirror him.
"How aren't you alone right now?" Taecyeon asked. "How-" Oh. Oh. Chansung nodded knowingly but an afterthought flashed through his face and then he shrugged. That smile was softer now, and did not leave his face. So, that was what he wanted. Taecyeon stood up, swaying once again and Chansung seemed to be on his guard now, in case Taecyeon fell over. Taecyeon held his hands out to reassure Chansung, as if saying, I'm good, and then hiked up his jeans. "How'd you get inside, though?" Taecyeon questioned, "'Cause I got in with my keys," he explained, twirling the keys around his finger.
Chansung grinned lopsidedly. "Those are your car keys, hyung." He proceeded to fish through his pocket and pull out a set of different keys. "These are your house keys."
Taecyeon's face contorted to the something like, what the fuck, and shook his head adamantly. "No, these are the keys," shaking them in his hand, "I- used- them- to- get- in." He had accentuated every syllable like throwing darts.
Chansung bit down on his lip to suppress a laugh and he looked to the side, as if the night sky were more important. "Hyung, I left the door unlocked for you."
"What if some stranger came inside?" Taecyeon asked, though he wasn't truly upset. He felt sort of numb. "Are you even in your right mind?"
Chansung raised an eyebrow. "What if some dangerous thief had taken your house keys instead? Are you in your right mind? To leave your things on the table at the party?"
Taecyeon crossed his arms and felt his face tighten. "Weren't we talking about you?" He stood in that stance like a statue, glaring at Chansung until Chansung couldn't hold the gazing war and looked away. Chansung drew his knees to his chest and hugged them. Then Taecyeon's frame went jelly again, this time out of exhaustion. Fighting took a lot of energy, he realized. He still had that headache to deal with and he didn't need more weight to plunge his head into a migraine. "Okay, I don't want to do this," Taecyeon muttered. Chansung turned his head and looked at Taecyeon with attentive eyes, pupils dancing in them. He reached out for Taecyeon's hand and placed the keys inside the palm and then gently curled the fingers around it.
They stared out into the night together, though sometimes Taecyeon stared more at the back of Chansung's head than the fireworks outside. Was this really the same person from the party? It seemed so long ago and yet it had only been a few hours since then. The wind was gentle so it didn't sweep up the fireworks with it but the scent of smoke did waft through the window. Taecyeon wasn't sure where that was coming from, but maybe someone down the neighborhood was having a barbeque. At around three am in the morning, yes. He was hungry again. But another idea surfaced into his mind before he made the decision to trek down the stairs and look for food in his kitchen. He tapped Chansung's shoulder a couple of times before Chansung finally looked up with a questioning look. Taecyeon grinned. He spread out his arms wide and shook his shoulders side to side, his gesture asking, wanna dance?
If Taecyeon was right, he saw Chansung's cheeks flush apple blossom rose. As much as Chansung's body said yes, Chansung bashfully shook his head no. Taecyeon slumped his shoulders dramatically and puppy faced at the babyface. That seemed to do it. Chansung tilted his head back with a melodious laugh and he rose up to his feet. But he stood there, unsure and hesitating to take a step toward Taecyeon.
"Come on, Chansung-ah," Taecyeon prodded him with a winning smile. He bowed his head and held out his hand. "Waltz with me?" Taecyeon shut his eyes then, hoping to feel the warmth pool into his hand. It did. Taecyeon looked up and grinned. He tightened his clutch over Chansung's hand and hauled him close. That knocked the wind out of Chansung but he smiled, too. Chansung's eyes glittered like butterscotch pools. It was hard not to get carried away.
They stumbled a bit, their steps uneven. They hadn't danced together in a while, not since Chansung taught and guided Taecyeon through his practices for his solo stage, Traicion, in Japan. It was hard to dance without music but the both of them were staring at each other's feet and were trying to correct the other's footsteps. Sometimes their heads bumped together. They laughed and giggled, a couple of times Chansung gave a little shove and Taecyeon would step on Chansung's foot in revenge. Finally, they found the rhythm they were looking for, dancing through the room in slow, gentle circles. Their fluid synchronization gave Taecyeon a sense of satisfaction, something that he also saw on Chansung's face because Chansung didn't stop grinning. They waltzed to the beat of the fireworks whistling and popping through the air.
“Actually, when I think about it, you’re horrible,” Taecyeon said while they danced, unable to hide the smile on his face. Chansung’s behavior at the party had only rewinded through Taecyeon’s head several hundred times. Accursed vivid memories, Taecyeon frowned to himself. Yes, definitely horrible.
“What?” Chansung asked with a laugh. He shook his head as if he couldn’t understand Taecyeon’s conclusion. Truthfully, Taecyeon couldn’t understand it either because when Chansung was in front him, it was hard to not want to bite down on those cute lips and cute eyes or cute- Friends could be adorable, right? No, of course not.
Somewhere along the way, Taecyeon changed his steps and Chansung stumbled into him. Their chests collided, parted mouths merely inches away and then Taecyeon laughed nervously. He spun Chansung away and then caught up to him and breathed, "Tango," which made Chansung want to burst into laughter. Taecyeon was serious with those waggling eyebrows though. He felt like they suited the stepping forward, stepping backward, pining for love kind of dance better than anything else. He tried to sing some generic latin pop song to fill it in, but that didn't work out so well. Chansung bit his lip to hold in his bubbling laughter. Then, Taecyeon resorted to humming Traicion, but not without attempting to sing the Spanish lyrics first. (This also did not go well, but Taecyeon saw the beaming, bright smile on Chansung’s face. That was the Party smile he wanted to see. The one that gave him butterflies. And he’d later realize that would be the smile he would miss the most.)
It was like a dream, but they danced and danced away into the night.
D-71
we can’t take our time; believe me, you’re not mine;
almond-scented, sweet brachetto wine - (un)love song
Los Angeles was divine. Mid-January in California was like a cool spring day, the breeze rustling through the leaves a tad chilly but the sun was relaxingly warm. They would sit by the pool edge where the horizon in front of them was engulfed by the shimmering cityscape of LA. They were, after all, on the crest of the extravagant Beverly Hills for a very special occasion, planning to spend the time there for about a week; though Minjun’s returning flight tickets were stamped for a stay of about a month or so. Afternoon birds were chirping nearby, the grill was sizzling, and the water lapped at the edge. Minjun’s legs were half submerged in the aquamarine pool as Wooyoung rubbed sunscreen on his back.
“Happy, happy, birthday, Minjunnie hyung~” Wooyoung sang as he dabbed the last bit of sunscreen on Minjun’s nape. Minjun laughed. Another breeze fluttered through the deck and it felt good, with the wind running across Minjun’s sun-kissed skin. He adjusted his scarlet red snapback over his hair, and kicked gently into the cool water. Junho had entered the patio from the sliding back door, holding a platter of sliced watermelon. Wooyoung gasped and leapt after Junho. “You got us watermelon! Seeded, right?” Wooyoung asked, clapping his hands. Junho’s eye smile was hard to see behind the sunglasses but it was there on the edge of his lips as he lifted a slice and fed it to Wooyoung.
“I don’t wanna find any seeds on the patio deck!” Minjun called out. This lavish house definitely not theirs, but a close friend’s of Minjun’s they usually visited when they came to LA. Really, Minjn visited LA the most because this was his soul city and Wooyoung and Junho knew how much it meant for Minjun so they paid for the entire trip as a birthday present.
“Yeah, yeah, birthday man,” Junho answered, and they all knew he was rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses. He handed the platter to Wooyoung as he slipped off his flip flops and sat by the edge of pool. He shivered at the water hitting his feet and shins but after a few minutes, the water soothed it down. Fluffy strands of Junho’s hair floated in the breeze every once in a while and he unbuttoned the collar of his white shirt and rolled up his sleeves. “When’s Chansung coming?” he asked suddenly. Those words- there was a heavy elephant in the middle of the patio then, and they all tried to forget how it was hard to breathe.
Wooyoung crouched next to Junho, not willing to put his feet in the water yet. “Dunno,” he replied easily, answer muffled into the slice of the watermelon. The three of them promptly stared at the sun reflecting off the water. It was hypnotic. They could sift through the tiny waves of the pool and blend into the blueness of the water and forget. They could do that. But the wind awoke them from their trance. Wooyoung tugged down his gray tank top over his red swimming shorts every time the breeze came in, muttering that it kept riding up his back. Junho would tap Wooyoung’s shoulder for a slice every once in a while and Wooyoung handed an already eaten one on purpose, laughing. Junho slapped his shoulder with the back of his hand and finally, Wooyoung passed a full slice over to him. A thought came to him. “You know, I actually think they got on the same flight,” Wooyoung said. He realize his voice had quieted down. Their thoughts were surfing along the same wave, it was obvious. That New Year’s party.
But it was two weeks ago. Drunkenness lowers inhibitions on occasion and sometimes things that are not meant to be seen were in front of their eyes and all they need to do was- simply forget. Of course. Junho was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. He stroked his hair and tugged at a knot and did it again, for good measure. He sighed. “When Chansung comes, I’m gonna talk to him.”
“What about?” Minjun asked, pretending to be innocent. He frowned though, not wanting party poopers to ruin his birthday.
“That,” Junho quipped, gesturing the empty space in front of him. It was like as if the memories of the New Year’s incident would surface right then and there in tangible form but- They all knew. No one was going to say it explicitly. The sound of watermelon being split in half reverberated in the air with a loud snap. All eyes went to Wooyoung, who grinned sheepishly, knowing that was inappropriate at that moment but Wooyoung shrugged. He had broken the ice anyway. Wooyoung was about to hand the broken half to Junho as a peace offering but Junho stood up, grabbing a towel and wiping down his legs. “I’m gonna get the cantaloupe,” Junho announced flatly.
“You cut the honeydew, right?” Wooyoung asked. “‘Cause I bought those too.” Wooyoung pouted as Junho seemingly ignored him. But at the last moment, Junho ruffled Wooyoung’s bird nest hair as he walked past him. Wooyoung grinned, as if knowing he’d won some type of battle. He gave a thumbs up to Minjun. “Don’t worry, hyung, I’m not gonna let anything ruin your party,” he said, “not even Taecyeon and Chansung making out if it comes down to that.”
Minjun burst into laughter, slapping the water with his hands. But Junho had turned around to glare at them through his glasses, having slid the patio door open halfway and frowned deeply. He looked as though he wanted to retort something venomous but decided to step inside the house anyway, clearly running into bodily warmth and stumbling back out onto the patio again with a yell.
“Watch it,” Taecyeon muttered, stepping out and sliding the door behind him. The sun glinted off his sunglasses.
“You watch where you’re-” Junho paused with a jawdrop, finger pointing at him. He took off his sunglasses. “What the hell, why are you-”
“Don’t ask,” Taecyeon interrupted. But it was hard not to point and laugh at Taecyeon’s get up, since he was wearing the shiny pink button up shirt he had worn during the My Ear’s Candy performance in LA two years ago, April. His hair was styled up- too formal for a pool party, which had Wooyoung opening his mouth and wanting to ask why, just why but Taecyeon held out a hand to stop him, too. Minjun only casually shrugged at the spectacle. It was amusing. Especially since Taecyeon was wearing black swimming shorts to accompany the bubble gum shirt, and green flip flops, with the black bow tie wilting in the breeze. Taecyeon adjusted the candy pink collar, cleared his throat and walked stoically to the grill. “What’s smoking?” Taecyeon asked nonchalantly, lifting the cover. He tried to pretend the attention was not on him. But three pairs of eyes conveying a mixture of what is going on and why pink? and you piece of shit for flirting with Chansung were kind of difficult to ignore. Taecyeon tugged at his collar uncomfortably, and coughed at the smoke tendrils that filled his nose.
“Definitely not you,” Junho muttered, slipping past the patio doors. Junho must’ve decided not to pick a fight there, thankfully. But Wooyoung snickered.
Taecyeon stuck out a tongue in the direction of where Junho went and grumbled to himself. “But hey, samgyupsal,” he said with lifted spirits, glancing at the grill again. “Nichkhun’s favorite, it’s too bad he’s stuck at his brother’s wedding.”
“They probably have a lot of samgyupsal there, too,” Minjun said, as he pulled his legs out of the water, rubbing them down with a towel. He didn’t stand up but brought his knees to his chin. “And he’s coming here tomorrow, so it’s fine.” Taecyeon nodded, placing the cover back onto the grill. Minjun stared at Wooyoung and Taecyeon thoughtfully, and there weren’t any sunglasses to shield the dark glinting eyes. Minjun readjusted his snapback again. “Hey listen, I’ve got something to announce.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re getting married, bruh,” a voice piped up from behind them. They all turned heads toward the patio door, where they saw Jay leaning against the doorframe. Jay’s face was shadowed with a Seattle Seahawks snapback, but it didn’t hide the smile wide on his lips. More tattoos covered his neck and left arm from the last time they had seen him, at least that was from all the skin was visible to them. Who knew how much more he had added throughout the years. He was clad with a short sleeved shirt and shorts and nike shoes. Wooyoung’s eyes were as wide as teacup saucers because Jay, holy crap while Taecyeon’s jaw dropped to the floor. But Taecyeon’s eyes were onto Jay’s neck, where a few of the stars tattooed on his skin peeped out from underneath the collar and a gold chain and gave Taecyeon a chill. He hadn’t seen those in a long time, but every time he did see them, he was always reminded of what they used to be. Seven on stage.
“Not if I’m marrying Audrey,” Minjun joked. Audrey was Minjun’s adored dog, pictured and filmed in more than half of the posts on his instagram account. Minjun stood up and gave Jay a fistbump. Jay grinned lopsidedly and patted the back of Minjun’s head. Jay turned to the others.
“‘Ey, stop staring at me like that, it ain’t like I’m naked or anythin’- Oh, but that,” Jay pointed at Taecyeon’s shirt, “that is-”
“A manly color,” Taecyeon finished for him. Jay’s mouth was hanging for another comment, probably more like a question, but Taecyeon shook his head sternly. “Nope, I said don’t ask, man.”
“Asshat,” Jay said, squinting at Taecyeon. “I’m gonna get my chance and I will ask.”
“The question to be asked is, how are you here, hyung?” Wooyoung took a step toward his hyungs. He crossed his arms, and glared at Minjun. Usually he seemed to be up to date with Minjun’s surprises and plans. But not this.
Minjun put an arm around Jay. “Jaebeom was in Seattle-”
“And I thought why the heck not?” Jay filled in, shrugging his shoulders. Taecyeon knew why. They hadn’t seen Jay in long time and since Minjun and Taecyeon were getting enlisted, they might as well see Jay at least once before they headed over. Perhaps Junho knew something about this since he and Wooyoung were the ones who bought the tickets for Minjun. But then again, Junho might blow a gasket as well for not knowing. Taecyeon decided he didn’t want to know. Besides, during off time, Jay would usually frequent to Seattle where his family lived, so really it might have been simple coincidence. He knew this was a wish they all had, wanting to see Jay again, not on the basis that someone else was leaving. Over the years, Taecyeon did run into Jay, brief awkward meetings where they caught up with the news. Jay was fine. Everyone else was fine. That was how it was supposed to be.
Some news, they knew about because they had subconsciously kept track of each other, and there were some that were meant to be hidden. Taecyeon felt an arm go around his broad shoulders and he smiled. He bent down to Jay’s height, which obviously insulted Jay and Jay smacked him across the head before stalking off to the grill to grab a plate.
“Here you go, birthday boy,” Jay said Minjun, handing a plate of steaming samgyupsal. It was still awkward between them and Jay, but for the sake of it, they tried to let it all sink back to what it used to be. It really was a distant memory, but the nostalgia kept Taecyeon’s lips smiling.
“Man,” Wooyoung corrected. “Birthday man.”
“Grandpa,” Taecyeon said. Jay and Minjun squinted at Taecyeon.
“If he’s grandpa, then what am I?” Jay had a thumb pointing at himself.
“What was it that you were going to announce?” Taecyeon asked Minjun, evading Jay’s question with a grin.
“I’m gonna kick your ass into that pool, you son of a bitch.” Jay held out the steaming tongs toward Taecyeon. Wooyoung hooted with laughter and Minjun grinned, obviously they both wanted to see Taecyeon get whipped. Ever since Jay left, there wasn’t anyone who could truly discipline Taecyeon like Jay could.
“Aw man, I really missed you,” Taecyeon gushed, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes.
“You’ve got six years’ worth of ass-whooping to do on that guy,” Wooyoung whispered loudly to Jay, giving him his approval. Jay glanced at Minjun, who also nodded with a wide smirk. Jay began to beat the tongs on his hand, biting into his lip like a lion baring his teeth.
Taecyeon stepped backward with a nervous smile, holding his hands up. “Hey, I’ve been a good boy. I took care of these kids and showed them infinity and beyond.” Taecyeon raised his arms up, showing the sky as “infinity and beyond.” But Jay scoffed through his nose with a big grin that Taecyeon couldn’t possibly wipe off, not even with a squeegee. He probably had hell coming for him. Taecyeon glanced down at his swimming shorts, not minding if those got wet. His shiny pink shirt that reflected every single sunray and made him radiate like the sun itself- that was not something he wanted to get wet at all and he wanted to curse- Oh. Oh. Taecyeon shot his head back up, the movement too fast that his sunglasses slipped off and fell onto the wooden planks. He had an idea. “I’ll tell you who made me wear this and you promise you won’t beat my ass,” he offered, the tone of his voice losing confidence by the end of the sentence. He flashed a nervous grin.
“Well yeah, obviously someone made ya wear it since you were all so tightlipped ‘bout it,” Jay babbled. “But we had ta ask, in case your fashion terrorist soul was speaking out again-or somethin’.” Jay’s face was contorted with a disgusting frown, as if considering Taecyeon’s offer. Jay looked to Minjun and Wooyoung, who were still eager to see Taecyeon get dumped into the pool, face first, ass last. Then his gaze went back to Taecyeon, who was standing comically in the sun, hands up, and some of his hair waving in the breeze. “Deal,” Jay said with finality. He seemed to surprise himself. Minjun and Wooyoung’s faces fell immediately. Wooyoung shook Jay’s shoulders.
“Aw, hyung! Come on,” Wooyoung protested. Minjun sighed but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face. It was too good to be true but even Jay bought Taecyeon’s devilish charms sometimes.
“Yes!” Taecyeon exclaimed with a lipbiting grin, curling his hand into a fist and bringing his arm down like a piece of shit winner.
“‘Ey, ‘ey, don’t you celebrate yet, you ass.” Jay waved the tongs in the air, like a weapon. “So tell me. Who was it?”
“Chansung.”
Jay was staring at Taecyeon like some wild alien had landed on earth. Taecyeon glanced at Wooyoung with a questioning look, but Wooyoung was mirroring Jay’s face, his expression actually looking like an alien. Then Taecyeon looked at Minjun, hoping Minjun would explain why the hell Wooyoung and Jay looked like they were about to invert their faces inside out. Minjun grimaced and pointed at his own cheeks, then pointed at Taecyeon, followed by a question mark drawn in the air. Oh. Taecyeon’s cheeks. He touched them, and they were feverishly warm to the pads of his fingers. He blanketed them up with his palms-still hot. Oh. He was blushing. Nah. Taecyeon wouldn’t blush at the thought of Chansung. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been the scorching sun, he was after all getting toasted in this pink shirt. The fabric was little thicker to give that glossy shine, but his legs and feet, open to the cool breeze were just fine. But now, the contrast of temperature reminded him of- Chansung’s warm tongue on his ear and the saliva cooling down even though his ear was burning. Taecyeon immediately covered his ears. His winged Dumbo ears glowed orangey-red in the sun, but blushing would make it too obvious. Damn it. This wasn’t happening. This was not happening at all.
“You said what?” Jay asked slowly.
“Chansung,” Taecyeon repeated. Damn his mouth for answering before thinking. Now Taecyeon wished he hadn’t said anything.
“So, he packed your bag and shit?”
“Yeah.”
Jay squinted. “This is...” Everyone seemed to lean in then, anticipating for his next words. “Unprecedented,” Jay said, and Minjun and Wooyoung sighed in disappointment. Even Taecyeon felt like the wrong word had been inserted for Jay’s usual catchphrase. It was a bad replacement. At a split second, the sunlight reflected off of Jay’s chain and blinded Taecyeon’s eyes. He used his hand to shield them, and his thoughts wandered off on a tangent. Where the hell was Junho? Fetching another plate of cantaloupe and cutting up some honeydew couldn’t take that long. Unless Junho was trying to grow them.
The patio door slid open.
“Don’t you mean conspiracy, hyung? Don’t you always say everything is a conspiracy? What happened to that?” Chansung asked casually, as he stepped out onto the patio, carrying a box of pizza toward them. He had that benign smile on him.
“I grew up,” Jay answered mindlessly, waving a hand. He turned though, upon realizing who had talked to him. “You-! You, what you done to my homie?” he accused, pointing his tongs threateningly at Chansung. So, Jay took Taecyeon’s side, surprisingly enough. Minjun and Wooyoung gaped. But that in turn made Chansung stare at Jay’s homie, Taecyeon, and their eyes locked on each other. Taecyeon’s vision flickered, going blurry and fading out at the edges because of the heat or something, he figured. He started to see doubles of Chansung and the pizza box. Doubles of pizza was great. That was totally great. And now the idea of getting pushed into the pool didn’t seem like such a bad idea. As long as Taecyeon’s head was submerged underwater where he couldn’t even see the distorted reflection of Chansung, doubles or anything more, then really, it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He willed for Jay to kick his ass. Or something. He needed to get away.
They stared. Taecyeon kind of missed seeing fireworks in those doe-eyes. No, he didn’t. But they stared. And stared. And stared.
Wooyoung snuck toward Chansung, took ahold of the pizza and Chansung’s shoulders and lead them both to the table next to the grill. But Chansung’s eyes never left Taecyeon. Neither did Taecyeon’s.
Silence hung ominously between all of them.
“EHEY!” Jay burst into forced obnoxious laughter, clapping Taecyeon and Chansung on their backs. “So y’all doin’ great, that’s fantastic!” But immediately, Jay’s face went expressionless when he turned to Taecyeon. “Dude, you’re comin’ with me,” he said, hooking a finger on Taecyeon’s pink collar. He proceeded to drag Taecyeon back inside the house.
part 2