(no subject)
Yin and Yang
EXO - Kris/Chanyeol
877 words; PG-13
Chanyeol is good at the waiting game.
MAMA!verse AU. Based on a random thought that if Chanyeol is a phoenix, it follows that his secondary power would be immortality. Warning: character death
It was probably inevitable that they were drawn to each other. Their powers affected nearly everything about them, including their relationships with each other. Chanyeol was close to Baekhyun and Sehun, but always felt intensely uncomfortable around Joonmyun. And they’d found out the hard way that Minseok couldn’t even get within five feet of Chanyeol without getting violently ill.
A dragon was naturally attracted to fire, a phoenix to flight.
Still, though, even with their powers, they had almost nothing in common. Kris was calm, driven, and mature. He was a natural leader, one who kept Zitao in line when no one else could, except maybe Baekhyun, who made sure Yixing didn’t deplete all of his energy healing everything in sight.
Then there was Chanyeol, whose powers made him excitable and reckless. Chanyeol, who’d accidentally burned Luhan’s arm pretty badly during a practice session. (Yixing healed him afterwards, and Luhan assured Chanyeol that he was fine, and no hard feelings, but Sehun didn’t speak to him for two weeks.)
Kris’s smiles were hard-earned, each one carefully tucked away in Chanyeol’s mind for safe-keeping. Chanyeol smiled all the time, because it had always come more easily to him than frowning. Neither of them were very good with words; Kris didn’t like initiating conversation, and Chanyeol chattered constantly because he hated silence.
The first time he asked Kris about it, they had just finished dinner and were getting ready to leave the restaurant. He didn’t answer, and for a second, Chanyeol thought he hadn’t heard. Then Kris reached out, adjusting Chanyeol’s scarf so it wound around his mouth and chin. “It’s cold, I don’t want you to get sick,” he said with a small smile. He took Chanyeol’s mittened hand and tucked it into his pocket together with his own. When he stepped out of the restaurant, Chanyeol followed. They clasped hands like that all the way to the subway station.
The second time he asked, Kris only gasped out, “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” Then he shifted his hips, pressing in a little harder. Chanyeol’s breath hitched, and oh fuck, this wasn’t the time to be talking at all. Later, when Kris thought he was sleeping, he pressed his lips to Chanyeol’s forehead and whispered three words that Chanyeol-extremely limited Chinese and all-understood immediately. After that, the whys never seemed all that important.
And then, suddenly, there was no time to ask again at all.
Chanyeol’s memories of that day are filled with holes, muted and fuzzy at the edges. This is, honestly, probably for the best.
He does remember Zitao’s tear-streaked face. “It happened so fast, I couldn’t stop it, hyung, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry it’s my fault I’m so, so sorry.”
“What happened what happened where is he tell me!” He screamed a lot that day.
“There was a surprise explosion-” Joonmyun explained, his voice and hands trembling.
“No no that’s bullshit fire can’t hurt him it would never-”
“It was the shrapnel, Chanyeollie, I’m sorry.” I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
Kris’s body, cold and unmoving, pale except for the bright bloom of red at his torso. Chanyeol shoved everyone out of the way and knelt down to cradle him, pushing back his hair and not caring about the wet stickiness all over his hands, saying something like “Yixing hyung Yixing fix him do something!”
Yixing’s voice, soft and halting. “You know I can’t-”
Chanyeol knew.
And suddenly there was fire flashing behind his eyelids, the steady furnace he’d felt in his gut all these years erupting into an inferno and threatening to go supernova. He clutched Kris’s body to his chest and vaguely heard Kyungsoo yelping “Something’s wrong everyone get back get back.”
Then Chanyeol screamed one last time and burst into flames.
When the fire had died down and the smoke had dissipated, the others found his unconscious body on the floor, lying naked in a bed of ashes. That was the first time.
Chanyeol has been reborn several times now. The others are reborn, too, after they live out their natural life spans, because forces of nature don’t just die out. No matter how many times he’s reborn, he’s always Chanyeol, but it’s not the same for them.
He’s met three of Kris’s reincarnations. There was Victoria, the dancer, who liked to act childish, but handled responsibility better than Chanyeol ever had. Then it was Minho, the aspiring soccer player. He was tall (not as tall as Kris) and handsome (not as handsome as Kris), and sometimes he said things with this quiet gravity that made Chanyeol do a double-take. Their faces looked nothing alike, but he was the one it hurt to look at most, so Chanyeol stayed away after their first few meetings. He kept tabs on him through Taemin, Jongin’s second reincarnation. The current one is Joohyun, who plays the piano and sings, who is both naïve and wise beyond her years.
All three of them have bits and pieces that Chanyeol thinks he recognizes sometimes-a slow smile here, a warm hand on the shoulder there-but none of them, not even tall, handsome Minho, are Kris.
So he waits. He has all the time in the world.
*****
Oh God, what is this, I have no idea. I might write a prequel to this from Kris's point of view at some point.
EXO - Kris/Chanyeol
877 words; PG-13
Chanyeol is good at the waiting game.
MAMA!verse AU. Based on a random thought that if Chanyeol is a phoenix, it follows that his secondary power would be immortality. Warning: character death
It was probably inevitable that they were drawn to each other. Their powers affected nearly everything about them, including their relationships with each other. Chanyeol was close to Baekhyun and Sehun, but always felt intensely uncomfortable around Joonmyun. And they’d found out the hard way that Minseok couldn’t even get within five feet of Chanyeol without getting violently ill.
A dragon was naturally attracted to fire, a phoenix to flight.
Still, though, even with their powers, they had almost nothing in common. Kris was calm, driven, and mature. He was a natural leader, one who kept Zitao in line when no one else could, except maybe Baekhyun, who made sure Yixing didn’t deplete all of his energy healing everything in sight.
Then there was Chanyeol, whose powers made him excitable and reckless. Chanyeol, who’d accidentally burned Luhan’s arm pretty badly during a practice session. (Yixing healed him afterwards, and Luhan assured Chanyeol that he was fine, and no hard feelings, but Sehun didn’t speak to him for two weeks.)
Kris’s smiles were hard-earned, each one carefully tucked away in Chanyeol’s mind for safe-keeping. Chanyeol smiled all the time, because it had always come more easily to him than frowning. Neither of them were very good with words; Kris didn’t like initiating conversation, and Chanyeol chattered constantly because he hated silence.
The first time he asked Kris about it, they had just finished dinner and were getting ready to leave the restaurant. He didn’t answer, and for a second, Chanyeol thought he hadn’t heard. Then Kris reached out, adjusting Chanyeol’s scarf so it wound around his mouth and chin. “It’s cold, I don’t want you to get sick,” he said with a small smile. He took Chanyeol’s mittened hand and tucked it into his pocket together with his own. When he stepped out of the restaurant, Chanyeol followed. They clasped hands like that all the way to the subway station.
The second time he asked, Kris only gasped out, “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” Then he shifted his hips, pressing in a little harder. Chanyeol’s breath hitched, and oh fuck, this wasn’t the time to be talking at all. Later, when Kris thought he was sleeping, he pressed his lips to Chanyeol’s forehead and whispered three words that Chanyeol-extremely limited Chinese and all-understood immediately. After that, the whys never seemed all that important.
And then, suddenly, there was no time to ask again at all.
Chanyeol’s memories of that day are filled with holes, muted and fuzzy at the edges. This is, honestly, probably for the best.
He does remember Zitao’s tear-streaked face. “It happened so fast, I couldn’t stop it, hyung, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry it’s my fault I’m so, so sorry.”
“What happened what happened where is he tell me!” He screamed a lot that day.
“There was a surprise explosion-” Joonmyun explained, his voice and hands trembling.
“No no that’s bullshit fire can’t hurt him it would never-”
“It was the shrapnel, Chanyeollie, I’m sorry.” I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
Kris’s body, cold and unmoving, pale except for the bright bloom of red at his torso. Chanyeol shoved everyone out of the way and knelt down to cradle him, pushing back his hair and not caring about the wet stickiness all over his hands, saying something like “Yixing hyung Yixing fix him do something!”
Yixing’s voice, soft and halting. “You know I can’t-”
Chanyeol knew.
And suddenly there was fire flashing behind his eyelids, the steady furnace he’d felt in his gut all these years erupting into an inferno and threatening to go supernova. He clutched Kris’s body to his chest and vaguely heard Kyungsoo yelping “Something’s wrong everyone get back get back.”
Then Chanyeol screamed one last time and burst into flames.
When the fire had died down and the smoke had dissipated, the others found his unconscious body on the floor, lying naked in a bed of ashes. That was the first time.
Chanyeol has been reborn several times now. The others are reborn, too, after they live out their natural life spans, because forces of nature don’t just die out. No matter how many times he’s reborn, he’s always Chanyeol, but it’s not the same for them.
He’s met three of Kris’s reincarnations. There was Victoria, the dancer, who liked to act childish, but handled responsibility better than Chanyeol ever had. Then it was Minho, the aspiring soccer player. He was tall (not as tall as Kris) and handsome (not as handsome as Kris), and sometimes he said things with this quiet gravity that made Chanyeol do a double-take. Their faces looked nothing alike, but he was the one it hurt to look at most, so Chanyeol stayed away after their first few meetings. He kept tabs on him through Taemin, Jongin’s second reincarnation. The current one is Joohyun, who plays the piano and sings, who is both naïve and wise beyond her years.
All three of them have bits and pieces that Chanyeol thinks he recognizes sometimes-a slow smile here, a warm hand on the shoulder there-but none of them, not even tall, handsome Minho, are Kris.
So he waits. He has all the time in the world.
*****
Oh God, what is this, I have no idea. I might write a prequel to this from Kris's point of view at some point.