Would you be mine? Could you be mine? (1/2)
title: Would you be mine? Could you be mine?
ship/s: chanyeol/d.o., baekhyun/kai, sehun/tao, chen/liyin
rating: nc-17
word count: ~11.1k
summary: When Kyungsoo Do moves out of his parents’ house his third year of college, everything is perfect...Except his neighbor.
warnings: swearing, sex and sexual themes, alcohol use (and a little drunken canoodling), terribly unclever dog names
notes: originally written and posted for moon_things on the sooheaven fic exchange. this one’s got some more polish and some errors have been fixed but it is unfortunately not the “extended version” with the extra scenes that i wanted it to be. consider it the “give-up” version and maybe the extra scenes (they go see singin’ in the rain and chanyeol takes kyungsoo out for ice cream) will be written at a later time. shrug!!! thanks to trashcanyeol for beta'ing the first version and general moral support c:
When Kyungsoo Do moves out of his parents’ house his third year of college, everything is perfect. The new house isn’t too small or too big, with a kitchen spacious enough for him to dance in while cooking. School is just a quick bike-ride away. His housemates are courteous and friendly, and they have a big TV with a lot of video games (too many, probably, if they want to pass their classes). The neighborhood is beautiful and sprawling, full of old memories and assorted, candy-hued homes like a street of technicolor gingerbread houses. It’s every bit what a college town should be: homey but young and exuberant, colorful and vibrant. His miniature collie Jean came with him in the move, and he loves the place too; there is even a sweet little dog park walking distance from his new house. Everything is perfect.
Except his neighbor.
For one, Chanyeol Park is a giant, which does not endear him to Kyungsoo in the least. Honestly, the fact that the guy could easily press his lips to Kyungsoo’s hairline and then comfortably rest his chin atop his head-and that this is the example of their height difference that pops into his head and makes him shiver with sudden warmth-offends his sensibilities. He is horrified by the idea that his own shoulder-to-shoulder length is ¾ths of the neighbor’s (a generous comparison; if he were to be honest with himself, it’s closer to half). Still managing to be skinny as a rail, Chanyeol is large, everything about him: large frame, large hands, large arms, large feet, large ears, large voice, large...well, that Kyungsoo doesn’t know about for sure and he’s certainly not going to think about it either. Except he does. He thinks about it a lot.
He thinks about Chanyeol a lot. And this occupation of his thoughts also does not endear him to Kyungsoo, much like the occupation of France did not endear the Nazis to the French. Nor do Chanyeol's carelessly tousled (but probably carefully permed), undoubtedly dyed auburn waves; nor the cutest little dimple that comes out to sullenly say hello whenever the big guy pouts-and don’t even get Kyungsoo started on that toothy, open-mouthed laugh...
The truth is, Chanyeol is obnoxiously pretty. Now, Kyungsoo can handle pretty. He’s had to look in the mirror his whole life and have it staring back at him, thank you very much. His housemates Jongin and Baekhyun have the same brand of obscenely effortless beauty (and they don't wear a lot of clothes when they're home), but for some reason they don’t piss Kyungsoo off. Not like Chanyeol does.
But to top it all off, this specimen of apparent human perfection is the most insufferably cheery ray of light. And that’s coming from someone who lives with Baekhyun Byun, who can only be compared to an incessantly shining fluorescent light bulb when speaking in terms of bright personalities. But Chanyeol...Chanyeol is the whole sun. And it’s blinding. At least, that’s what Kyungsoo tells himself is the reason he wants nothing to do with him. That, and the stench of hopeless douchebag on him.
Well, and he also plays the drums. Loudly. At any. Given. Time.
In any case, the simple fact remains that he doesn’t want to be around the guy. In any other case, Chanyeol being his neighbor or his friends’ friend could have given him enough leeway to at least avoid him naturally-but Kyungsoo’s dog likes Chanyeol’s dog, and therein lies the unavoidable problem.
They met serendipitously, although Kyungsoo hadn’t seen it as such. Spontaneously, maybe. By happenstance. Coincidentally. Anything but the “happy accident” a word like “serendipity” entails. Strangely enough and despite the fact that they are indeed neighbors and Chanyeol is indeed Kyungsoo’s friends’ friend, The Fates didn’t even have the decency to ordain it an awkward, “Welcome to the neighborhood, new neighbor!” or “I’ve heard so much about you, new best friend!” but something entirely worse.
It was early morning at the bark park, Kyungsoo in his couldn’t-care-less spectacles and Chanyeol in his jogging clothes. Kyungsoo was looking particularly disheveled: unkempt mop of vividly red hair flopping over his starkly contrasting undercut, glasses slightly askew, and still wearing his oversized sleep shirt with some hastily added worn-out sweats and ratty sneakers-and Chanyeol, of course, set the tone for the remainder of their acquaintance up until now: by looking objectionably handsome.
The dregs of summer were still lingering in this September, the sun defiantly peeking above the horizon despite autumn rearing its drowsy, slow-to-wake head. Chanyeol was radiant beneath that sun, as if its source rather than its recipient; the sheen of sweat from his run glittered like lacquer as he sat with his yellow labrador beneath a tree. Casually seated as he was, staring off into space with an idle hand curling in his dog’s fur, he looked more like a model for some glamorous photoshoot unbeknownst to the rest of the world.
It happened quickly. When he reached the bark park, Kyungsoo had only unhooked Jean’s leash for but a moment and he was speeding off in the stranger’s direction. When Jean reached him, nipping affectionately at the other dog, Chanyeol’s face lit up, eyes bright and wide and excited. Normally so well-mannered and -trained, Jean pounced onto Chanyeol’s chest, slobbering all over his face and eliciting delighted giggles from the latter.
“Sorry!” called Kyungsoo after them, rushing to drag Jean away from the sprawled jogger.
“Nah, man, it’s alright,” he assured him between giggle fits without raising his head to see him, sitting up and ruffling Jean’s fur. “I love dogs, this is basically puppy heaven.” He then addressed Jean, “Good morning,” and flashed a brilliant smile.
For a split second, Kyungsoo’s heart caught in his throat but then the labrador came forward, nosing his hand insistently and he was graciously distracted.
The dog was familiar as Kyungsoo had seen the little guy bounding along the backyard, and his owner was familiar in voice alone: a surprisingly deep, powerful baritone. From the stranger’s elven ears and fine, baby-faced features, Kyungsoo would have expected a more boyish sound coming from him. He had had no idea this was the next-door neighbor from whom he had caught bits of songs traveling between their houses.
Scritching Jean’s ears, Chanyeol finally looked up at Kyungsoo-and made a face as if he had been punched in the gut. He scrambled to his full height, bow-legged and gangly and towering over the other.
“I’m Chanyeol,” he introduced in a rush, thrusting out his hand to shake. His tan, defined arms were free from sleeves and his gray sweatpants were tight around the ankles, loose where it counted-but not quite loose enough that Kyungsoo’s imagination couldn’t easily fill in the blanks. “I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you new? You’re Baekhyun and Jongin’s new housemate, aren’t you? Kyungsoo, right?”
Kyungsoo felt the rapid-fire questions as though they were tangible objects pelted at him, shaking his hand cautiously. “Yeah...h-how did you know?” He pressed his forefingers together nervously before he realized he was fidgeting, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Chanyeol grinned sheepishly. “I play the drums.”
“You…?” Kyungsoo screwed up his face in puzzlement. Then it dawned on him-it had been he, Chanyeol, who had been the one causing all the racket for his first days in the house: “Oh. Oh.” His voice...somehow he hadn’t put it together yet...
Guiltily, Chanyeol skewed his lips to one side, a dimple surfacing. “Jongdae told me about you. I’m his housemate,” he explained quickly, eyes twinkling with silent laughter as he bent to ruffle Jean’s fur. “And I already met your dog...But Jongdae didn’t say you were, um. Well.” He blushed, realizing where his sentence had been going. Normally his tongue would be quick to compliment a pretty stranger but this one...this one was somehow different.
With narrowed eyes, Kyungsoo asked, “What?” Short? Small? Narrow-shoulder’d? were the conclusions his inner thoughts jumped to.
“Nothing,” said Chanyeol dismissively, wincing. He quickly changed the subject. “So this is your new girlfriend, Eggroll,” he addressed his own dog. “I was wondering where you were running off to.”
“Jean is a boy,” corrected Kyungsoo warily, a little miffed. “As in Jean Valjean,” he added when Chanyeol’s face went blank. “As in Les Misérables?”
“Oh. Boyfriend, then,” he amended, sinking to a crouch to see Eggroll at eye level. He continued in a babble: “I’m kinda bummed. See, his name’s technically not really Eggroll, that was just something Sehun called him-Sehun’s our other housemate, sorry-and now he only answers to it. Sehun must have trained him behind my back or something because it just stuck. But anyway, his real name is Glen.” He beamed up at Kyungsoo. “After Glen Hansard. You know, the main character from Once? Ever seen?”
Kyungsoo only nodded, overwhelmed. He saw why Chanyeol and Baekhyun were friends.
“I was hoping this would be his Markéta,” said Chanyeol shyly, scratching Jean behind the ears.
“I seriously doubt our dogs are romantically involved,” deadpanned Kyungsoo. He didn’t mention the fact that Once didn’t necessarily have a happy ending for its protagonists, nor did he remind him that Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová had broken up in real life.
Chanyeol shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
An awkward silence passed between them. Chanyeol stood again, as Jean and Eggroll/Glen rassled in the grass. He wouldn’t stop staring at Kyungsoo.
“So…” he began, desperate to fill the silence and distract himself, “how did you meet Jongin and Baekhyun?”
“Voice,” replied Kyungsoo simply. Remembering his tendency to be too short with his words, he hastily added, “I’m a voice major. I met Baekhyun and Jongdae through class.”
“Right, of course, Jongdae told me.” He quirked his lips to the side again, the dimple making a comeback. “I’m surprised I didn’t meet you before.” I’m surprised they didn’t introduce us, was the unheard sentence lingering in the air as he continued to gaze at him.
Kyungsoo shifted stiffly, uncomfortable under such scrutiny. At a loss, he felt he needed to fill the silence, elucidating, “I only met Jongin when I first visited the house, to see if I wanted to live there. I’d heard about him before, of course, from Baekhyun.”
Chanyeol smiled knowingly. “He does like to brag.”
Indeed, Baekhyun did. In fact, by the time he mentioned that he was looking for a place to stay near campus, Kyungsoo was half-convinced that Baekhyun had simply made his boyfriend up. There hadn’t been a shred of evidence that he existed, all he had were Baekhyun’s descriptors, and none of them had sounded credible. He sounded more like an oddly specific dream boy than a real person. Especially every time he’d tell a story from rehearsal for the school musical where they had met, saying things like, “His hair fanned out and sweat flew off the ends like a sprinkler."-Cue dreamy sigh-"He looked so cool.”
Exist he did, though, and all of Baekhyun’s gushing hardly did him justice: he had been a sight to behold when Kyungsoo had strolled over the threshold of his soon-to-be new home and found him stretching on the floor in shorts riding up his muscled thighs, short sleeves revealing a subtle farmer’s tan among his already richly dark skin. Fluffy brown hair in his drowsy but still captivating eyes, Jongin had looked up at them with full lips still pursed in concentration. His ridiculously broad shoulders had stretched the old T-shirt close to ripping; Kyungsoo had felt equally painful pangs of envy and attraction.
Kyungsoo’s mouth must have dropped a little, because Baekhyun had barked out a laugh. “This sleep-zombie is Jongin,” he had said in a forcedly exasperated voice bursting with adoration as he had strode over to Jongin where he sat on the floor, fondly blinking up at his boyfriend. Baekhyun had then ruffled Jongin’s hair sweetly, muttering under his breath to him about their new potential housemate why do you look like you just woke from a nap. Grinning, he had turned back to Kyungsoo, “I told you I didn’t make him up. Told you he was hot.”
Though obviously embarrassed, Jongin had preened, shyly leaning his flushed cheek against Baekhyun’s thigh. “Hi,” he had greeted, deep voice crackled from sleep.
It hadn’t taken them long to strike up a deal; from the beginning, Kyungsoo had loved the place, and from what he had heard, he was sure he would get along with Jongin-though the latter himself had seemed reluctant at first.
“Do you have anything weird about your stuff?” he had asked after a long bout of silence, as they gave him the grand tour of their bitty house. They had stopped at what would be Kyungsoo’s new room, their old one as their previous housemate, Luhan, had the bigger room before graduating.
“What?” Kyungsoo had asked incredulously.
“Do you have anything weird about your stuff?” he had repeated. “Luhan was weird about his bed. We couldn’t sit on it at all, not even to hang out.”
“N-no…” Kyungsoo had verbally stumbled. “I don’t think so.”
“Also,” Jongin had added, “this one”-he had poked Baekhyun in the cheek-“will steal your clothes.”
Baekhyun had scrunched up his nose, grabbing Jongin’s hand away from his face but not letting go.
“And he sings,” Jongin had added, a grin overtaking his lips. “All the time. And he never stops moving.” With a pointed look, he held up where their hands met, where Baekhyun's thin piano-perfect fingers were drumming against his skin.
Initially, Kyungsoo had expected some sort of test, but this had come as some surprise. He had remained shocked for only a moment, before a grin of his own spread and he had said, “I think I can handle how annoying Baekhyun can get.”
Jongin had smiled at that; Baekhyun had pouted. But then, Jongin’s face had turned stoney, asking in an apparently very serious tone, “What can you bring to this house?”
Kyungsoo had been aghast. “I…” he had begun, a little desperate for a living space. “I can cook and clean.”
“I was kidding!” Jongin had exclaimed quickly, the couple rushing forward to put their arms around him.
“Mommyyyy,” Baekhyun had cried to Kyungsoo, rubbing his cheek affectionately against his. Then his face had taken on an expression of resolute determination, pulling Kyungsoo closer to his chest and looking up at Jongin to declare, “We’re keeping him.”
“Get off of me,” Kyungsoo had grumbled, secretly pleased. But he had shoved them off all the same-
“Though not about you, apparently,” commented Chanyeol softly, almost as if to himself, as he cocked his head to the side and shifted his grip on Eggroll’s leash, squeezing the fingers of both hands around it. Had Kyungsoo been paying more attention, he may have recognized it as a possible nervous habit.
Consequently, though, Kyungsoo shook himself from the memory, returning back to the present. The present of this hellishly awkward encounter with his unfortunately handsome and increasingly annoying neighbor. His response to Chanyeol’s borderline inappropriate would-be come-on was none other than, “Uh,” and then had nothing further to contribute. Then, just for something to do with his hands, Kyungsoo foraged his pockets and procured a tube of lip balm. All too aware of Chanyeol’s eyes still on him, Kyungsoo shakily uncapped it with a small pop and proceeded to-very innocently-dab at his full lips.
Chanyeol’s mouth went a little slack. Kyungsoo’s ears turned red. Shit.
“Hey, uh,” started Chanyeol distractedly as he hooked Eggroll’s leash back to his collar, “you wanna, like, hang out right now? Or something? Grab some coffee?”
It had barely made it out of Chanyeol’s mouth when Kyungsoo was stuttering that he had to leave, calling Jean back to his side and reattaching his leash.
Chanyeol called after him as he left, “Let me make you dinner! You and Jongin and Baekhyun!”
Kyungsoo turned around.
“As a housewarming gift,” he continued. He added hopefully, “I’m a really good cook.”
Kyungsoo knew that if he tried to get Jongin and Baekhyun out of a free meal, they would never forgive him; he would get even, of course, but it probably wouldn’t be good for their budding living situation. So he quietly answered, “Okay,” then scurried off.
Chanyeol stared after him, again with that gut-punched look on his face.
✮☆✮☆✮
“You didn’t tell me he was hot.”
Jongdae looked blearily up at Chanyeol over his textbook as his housemate walked through the doorway and let Eggroll speed off. He opened his mouth to drop the pen from his teeth. “I didn’t tell you who was hot?” he asked before setting his homework aside to pet Eggroll. “Hey there, buddy,” he cooed to the dog.
“Kyungsoo,” answered Chanyeol, plopping down beside him with his back to the armrest.
Their house wasn’t exactly spacious, despite its two stories the adjective “dinky” was still often used, but it was still a mite too large for only three people. The living room, where they sat now, was adjacent to a decently-sized kitchen that was separated by a wall lining the walkway from the front door Chanyeol had come from. Behind the couch was the closet under the stairs (their “Harry Potter cupboard”) where they kept DVD’s and video games that were always a hassle to get to. Chanyeol absently fiddled with the doorknob.
“I didn’t?” said Jongdae, cocking his head quizzically and narrowing his eyes. “Pretty sure I did. Pretty sure I told you the exact words, ‘tiny and fuckable’.”
“‘Fuckable’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, though, he’s like, wow,” said Chanyeol emphatically, gesticulating something reminiscent of an explosion with splayed hands. “His eyes and his hair and, and his lips...just. I mean. Wow.”
What Kyungsoo would have described as “disheveled,” Chanyeol would have dubbed, “morning chic.” The just-rolled-out-of-bed look did wonders for him, red hair catching like flame in the sunlight. Chanyeol had been blown away from the moment he’d looked up at him, framed by the barely risen sun like a scene out of some ultra cheesy romcom. Kyungsoo’s eyes, as Chanyeol had so breathlessly listed among his finest attributes, were huge, wide and bright despite the dark brown of his irises. And his lips? Mesmerizing. Plush and smooth and enticing. He’d nearly had an aneurysm when Kyungsoo had put on the chapstick; it was so simply, effortlessly sexy that Chanyeol had thought it was a move, not a nervous habit. But in the end his shyness had only been a plus for Chanyeol. And although “tiny and fuckable” did not quite do the young man justice, Chanyeol couldn’t help but adore his size-and couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted more: to carry him around wherever he went (be it bridal style or piggy-back ride) or have him sit on his face.
But Jongdae only shrugged. “I guess.”
“You guess?” Chanyeol stared, at a loss. “You really are a different guy when you have a girlfriend. Liyin has trained you well.”
“Shut up,” replied Jongdae, chucking a pen at his head.
It missed by only a hair, whizzing past Chanyeol’s ear. Before Chanyeol could jump forward for a counterattack, Sehun’s key turned the lock and he carefully tip-toed inside.
Chanyeol leaned back so he could see the entrance, deadpanning with eyes rolling back in his head, “We’re awake, we already know you spent the night at Zitao’s.”
Sehun winced, swore, then slung his backpack to the floor and slipped off his shoes before joining them in the living room. “It’s the asscrack of dawn, why are you awake?” he demanded, nudging Eggroll from his spot on the couch and pushing Jongdae’s legs out of the way. The dog whined, resting his whiskered chin on Sehun’s knee from his new, unwanted spot on the floor.
Chanyeol and Jongdae promptly responded in tandem: “Class.”
Groaning, Chanyeol leaned back over the arm of the couch again, hands dangling and whispering over the floor. “It’s a human right’s violation to have percussion this early in the morning. I swear to God, I am this close to gagging myself with a marimba mallet.”
Trying not to smile, Sehun quipped in the most deadpan, sardonic tone he could muster, “You’re going to deep-throat your marimba mallet. I knew you were going through a dry spell, Chanyeol, but that’s a little extreme.”
Chanyeol rolled his eyes, sitting up. “It is also a human rights violation for you to be a little shit this early in the morning.” He then gave the both of them an accusatory glare. Jongdae, who had just been laughing his ass off, widened his eyes in pseudo-innocent shock as if to say, Who! Moi? “And that I am the only one single in this house. How did this even happen?” he cried out melodramatically, flinging himself back over the couch arm.
“You ran out of people to seduce, for one,” offered Jongdae, standing and gathering up his school things.
Chanyeol sat with a snap again. “That’s not fair. Those were legitimate dates. And relationships.”
“Whatever you say, player,” said Jongdae dismissively, shoving everything into his questionable man-handbag.
Chanyeol’s pout-dimple showed itself and Jongdae poked it on his way out. “See you later,” he threw over his shoulder. He abruptly stopped at the door. “Oh! Were we supposed to busk next weekend?”
“Yeah,” replied Chanyeol.
“I can’t go,” said Jongdae apologetically, but then he waggled his eyebrows at Chanyeol. “I have a date.” He then left with a last wave.
Chanyeol grumbled for a moment then jolted, remembering: “Oh! I invited Kyungsoo, Jongin and Baekhyun over for dinner!” He yelled after, though he knew he already couldn’t hear.
“You met Kyungsoo?” asked Sehun, leaning forward and tucking his legs criss-cross-apple-sauce beneath him. “He’s hot, right?”
“Thank you,” said Chanyeol with exaggerated gestures, as if proving a point to the absent Jongdae. “But you’ve met him too? How did you and Jongdae meet him but I didn’t?”
“I don’t know, to keep you from deflowering him?”-Chanyeol hit him, Sehun blocked-“Guy’s got a great ass though.”
“Don’t be crass, Sehun,” snapped Chanyeol, attempting to hit him again.
“Whoa, what’s your deal all of a sudden? Wait a minute,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes, his arms still hovering in a defensive move. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, “You’re not, like, interested in him, are you? Like, interested-interested?”
Chanyeol choked a little on his own tongue. “No.”
“Chanyeol…”
“Alright, so maybe I asked him out for coffee. So what? I’m a healthy young man, I’m allowed to have interests.”
“I know Baekhyun told you he was off-limits, they’ve been looking for a housemate for months,” scolded Sehun, though his heart wasn’t in it. Mostly he was entertained. “You can’t go ruining this for them by breaking the new guy’s heart.”
“That was before I saw him…and anyway, he turned me down.” He then did a double-take. “What makes you say I’ll break his heart!?”
Sehun shot him a look. “Come on, Jongdae already said it. You’re a player.”
“I am not,” he protested adamantly. “Maybe I’ve just been, you know...looking for The One, or whatever.”
Dumbstruck, Sehun stared at him for a moment...and then burst out laughing.
Chanyeol blushed scarlet. “Sh-shut up…”
“You think Kyungsoo is The One?” asked Sehun between dying giggles, tears in his eyes.
“No! I don’t know!” shouted Chanyeol defensively. “Whatever, fuck you.” He quickly added, standing, “I’m gonna be late, and I still have to shower.”
“Yeah,” chuckled Sehun, pinching his nose dramatically. “You stink…”
“Don’t say it,” interrupted Chanyeol.
“...of love!” he finished.
Chanyeol groaned, “You’re the worst, that wasn’t even clever,” then threw a pillow in Sehun’s direction and began to trudge his way to the stairs to shower. Stumbling, he ran back as he remembered something: “Don’t tell Jongdae!”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he replied, an evil grin splitting his face as he held out an upturned hand. “For twenty bucks, that is.” He gestured impatiently. “Pony up, cowboy.”
Chanyeol reluctantly took out his wallet.
✮☆✮☆✮
After dropping Jean off back at home and changing, Kyungsoo resumed his day normally, if not a little shook up. It had been far too early for such a slew of compliments and would-be flirtations, and it unfortunately affected him. All throughout the day, in every class, Kyungsoo’s mind seemed to wander, meandering its little way back to Chanyeol in that sleeveless shirt and those little-to-the-imagination sweatpants. When he put him on “mute,” he was cute-because any time Daydream Chanyeol opened his mouth, something Real Chanyeol would say came out. This made daydreaming with any sort of satisfaction very difficult.
Not that daydreaming about Chanyeol was his desire...or anything...like that…
He spent much of the day groaning at himself. He didn’t want to like Chanyeol, and he didn’t, because there was that something about him that screamed bad idea!, much like that something about him that screamed desperate hornball! So what if their dogs liked each other? So what if he was friends...with all his friends…?
So what if he was so good-looking Kyungsoo’s stomach did backflips?
When he got home he was even more drained than usual, blinking hard over his oxygen-deprived eyes begging to be rid of their contact lenses. Jean was there to greet him jovially when he strolled inside, pocketing his keys. He patted his head obligingly, but muttered under his breath, “This is all your fault, I hope you know.”
Jean cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth in a smile that looked almost cheeky, as if he knew. Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at the dog before he bounded off back into the living room where he had come from. He followed him.
Lo, there lay Jongin, in a position much like the one he was in when Kyungsoo had met him: stretching. That was, until Jean distracted him. Then he just did something akin to melting, forgetting his stretching to curl round the canine like he was a fluffy space heater.
Baekhyun was on the couch, fingers tapping out a beat on his thigh as he perused his performance homework. He looked up, nodding in dismissive acknowledgement to Kyungsoo, obviously rapt.
Kyungsoo didn’t mind, striding past them toward the kitchen.
As Kyungsoo turned away from them, Jongin sat up and stated simply, “So you met Chanyeol,” making him jump.
Startled, Kyungsoo turned and asked, “How did you know?”
Glancing up from the papers on his lap, Baekhyun answered for him, “You have a haunted look in your eyes.”
“He called,” corrected Jongin, shooting Baekhyun a somewhat withering look. He turned back to Kyungsoo. “I’m guessing he hit on you?”
Kyungsoo nodded sheepishly.
“Yeah,” interjected Baekhyun thoughtfully, looking him up and down, “if Chanyeol had a type, it’d be you.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” continued Jongin. “Flirting is like breathing to Chanyeol. He just needs a firm hand.”
Behind him, Baekhyun coughed as though attempting to quell overpowering laughter. He failed, dissolving into fits of giggles. Jongin gave him another look. “Oh come on,” sputtered Baekhyun. “You said it.”
Jongin’s cheeks burned and he looked a little tight-lipped as though he were also trying not to laugh, but he turned his attention back to Kyungsoo anyway. “The point is, you shouldn’t let it bother you,” he started forcefully. “He’s harmless. And he’ll back off eventually.”
“That being said,” began Baekhyun before looking up and folding his thin fingers over his lap. “Jonginnie and I are going to rehearsal for Singin’ in the Rain tonight, so we rainchecked dinner with Chanyeol.”
But then-“You’re leaving?” demanded Kyungsoo, a little panicky. “What if he comes over?”
Baekhyun tilted his head, apparently amused. “It’s like Jongin said, he’s harmless.” He then smirked, adding (a little sinisterly), “He only bites when asked.”
Kyungsoo rolled his eyes then glared menacingly; Baekhyun flinched in some sort of Pavlovian response. He’d experienced too many Kyungsoo-induced dead arms to not live in constant fear of a retaliatory punch.
He cleared his throat and tried to deflect the conversation in another direction. “I’d leave Jongin here to chaperone you if I could. He has to go practice with Prima Ballerina Krystal Soojung Jung,” he said the name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, every syllable punctuated with something a little milder than disgust. There was a teasing smile on his face, but Kyungsoo suspected his jealousy was, at least in part, genuine. Baekhyun turned on Jongin. “You kiss her yet?”
Jongin slumped uncomfortably. “It’s the choreography...” he told him, embarrassed. It wasn’t an answer. He got up and walked over, playfully cuffing his ear. “You kiss Sunny even more.”
“That’s different,” protested Baekhyun, grabbing Jongin’s hand and pouting.
“Mmmhmm,” hummed Jongin skeptically, though he leaned in and kissed the flush rising over Baekhyun’s neck.
Kyungsoo felt a little ill watching them. “I’ll go make us dinner then,” he deadpanned loudly, quickly leaving the room and contemplating the real drawbacks of living with a couple.
After a quick dinner, once the lovebirds had left for practice, Chanyeol did indeed pay Kyungsoo a visit right when he was in the middle of some practicing himself. Jean bounded right on up to the threshold, well-trained enough not to bark but looking ecstatic. Kyungsoo cleared his throat before opening the door.
“Hi,” greeted Chanyeol, already a little breathless in his presence. He distracted himself by leaning down to pet Jean.
Kyungsoo awkwardly responded in kind.
Chanyeol cut to the chase, gripping onto the door frame for moral support. “I know dinner didn’t work out tonight, but I was wondering if you wanted to have a little doggy play date sometime, for Jean and Eggroll. Glen. Whatever. I think they’d enjoy it.”
Great. Now if Kyungsoo refused he’d look like a prick. Very cunning, Chanyeol. Score one for Chanyeol. He agreed, albeit a little solemnly, and in such a way that showed on Chanyeol’s face that he wasn’t satisfied.
“Um, well. Anyway,” he began, holding up his cell phone. “I would have texted or called, but I don’t have your number, so…”
“Oh.” God dammit. Kyungsoo reluctantly swiped Chanyeol’s phone when he offered it, brutally punching in the numbers before shoving it into Chanyeol’s chest.
He didn’t seem to mind, grinning like a fool in a way that made Kyungsoo’s insides perform gymnastics (again). He then waved him goodnight and wished him sweet dreams.
Kyungsoo stood rooted to the spot until Jean licked his fingers and brought him back to the present.
✮☆✮☆✮
It wasn’t until later in the week that Chanyeol realized he hadn’t actually set up a date and time for this “doggy play date” scheme. At least I got his number, he grumbled to himself upon this realization. He was grateful he hadn’t gone through his typical scheme of moves: swipe the other’s phone from them, punch in his number and take a cute selfie for the contact profile pic (this method worked 9 times out of 10)-because then he doubted Kyungsoo would have ever actually called him, and then where would he be?
Setting a date and time turned out to not be as painful a process as he thought it would be. Kyungsoo on the other line, however, was suffering because Chanyeol’s voice over the phone sounded like how chocolate tasted, but they were able to meet very soon indeed-but not until after some very awkward exchanges on campus.
Kyungsoo was very curious as to how he managed to get through two years of school without spotting Chanyeol once and now, neighbors and passing each other on a huge university campus multiple times almost every day. Had the stars aligned to screw him over?
The first time wouldn’t have been so bad, if Chanyeol hadn’t pointed at him with finger pistols and gone, “‘Eyyy!” in greeting across the quad. Kyungsoo’s ears had been so red they looked like smoke was about to come curling out of them.
“Why are you like this,” he muttered under his breath, reaching Chanyeol in a few strides.
“Hmm?” hummed Chanyeol innocently.
Ears that big and he hadn’t heard? Sure. “Nothing,” responded Kyungsoo bitingly. He begrudgingly asked without inflection, “How are you.”
Chanyeol bobbed his head, beaming. “Good. Eggroll can’t wait to hang out with you and Jean.”
With nothing to say, Kyungsoo thinned his lips and puffed out his cheeks.
This. Kept. Happening.
Except they started talking. About everything. About movies, and music, Jongin and Baekhyun and Jongdae and even Sehun. Chanyeol spoke (bragged, really. But for once, Kyungsoo didn’t seem to mind) of his playing nearly every instrument under the sun; Kyungsoo responded, with some enthusiasm, about his silent interest in the guitar, his curious plunkings on Baekhyun’s piano. They found they liked a lot of the same things, shared the same passions. They managed to fill the awkward silences with stirring conversation. Even when they did finally meet up for that doggy date, they miraculously hadn’t run out of things to talk about, and Kyungsoo suspected that that would never happen.
And it was also about then that Kyungsoo came to the horrifying conclusion that, had he met Chanyeol under even slightly different circumstances, he would have gone home with him that day.
“You ever busked before?” asked Chanyeol, jolting Kyungsoo out of his reverie as they strolled to the park, leashed dogs trotting their way down the street in front of them.
“Huh?” he said, jumping slightly. “Oh, no.”
Chanyeol worried his bottom lip through his teeth, cheek dimpling before speaking, “You want to?”
Kyungsoo cocked his head to the side. “With you and the gang? Jongin, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Sehun? Isn’t that a bit of a crowd?” he laughed.
“Nah, it’d be great. Jongin and Sehun mostly just dance, though we’ve done some great rap breaks. And Jongdae’s got a date this weekend so he won’t even be there. But you’ve got an amazing voice, so I thought, I don’t know, that you should join.”
Kyungsoo blushed.
“I heard you, um, practicing,” explained Chanyeol. “It carries. I thought you were Baekhyun at first, actually, but there’s something, I don’t know, smoother about it?” He shrugged. “It’s nice.”
Kyungsoo had heard of thunderstruck, moonstruck, dumbstruck-never had he heard of someone being grinstruck, but there he was, the corners of his lips lifting like they had minds of their own.
Chanyeol cleared his throat, trying to rush away from his compliment as fast as he could. “Now, you don’t have to actually join. What I mean is, you don’t actually have to do anything with us yet, I mean we haven’t all rehearsed together or anything, but...you could still come this weekend. I’d like you...to come, I mean.” Chanyeol gave a little laugh. “You could be our spy in the crowd.”
Despite his best efforts, that grin stayed on Kyungsoo’s face. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, alright.”
✮☆✮☆✮
Busking day came sooner than Kyungsoo had anticipated. The days between blurred in a flurry of homework and studying, applying for jobs, and these pockets of time that highlighted his evenings home: pockets filled with Chanyeol.
Next door neighbors though they were, they still didn’t see each other often outside of their doggy dates and chance glances at school, and before they had actually met Kyungsoo had learned to easily block out the loud neighbor but now...Now that he had thrust himself to the forefront of Kyungsoo’s mind, Chanyeol stood out. On the nights he had to stay up late studying, Kyungsoo found himself listening for Chanyeol, to see if he had made it home. Or he’d bob his head in time to the drumset beats. Sometimes, when he peeked out the hallway window he could see a half-naked Chanyeol in his room spinning about in something akin to a dance. From his own bedroom, Kyungsoo could hear Chanyeol rap in the shower. And he couldn’t catch distinct words, but when Chanyeol was talking with Jongdae and Sehun, Kyungsoo could hear that deep voice, and the laugh that traveled the distance between houses.
He found himself waiting for these pockets of time; caught himself smiling at any hint of Chanyeol.
Needless to say, Kyungsoo wasn’t in the best mood come busking day. Although everyone else’s high spirits were infectious, Kyungsoo’s disdain showed more sour than he wanted. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes glaring. Their planted spy looked more like a potential heckler than someone who would encourage generous donations to the open guitar case in front of them. He did his job, though, dropping in a five dollar bill for show. (Chanyeol had promised he’d get it back; Kyungsoo didn’t actually believe him, but he did it anyway.)
Deserving of those five dollars, however, they did sound and look good. Kyungsoo couldn’t deny that. They had set up in the main square, during the town’s quaint farmer’s market and had pulled quite the crowd to watch them.
Chanyeol was on guitar, Baekhyun on keyboard, Jongin and Sehun dancing in sync on a mat beside them. It didn’t take long for Kyungsoo to join in with the crowd’s clapping. Everything was going well, in fact Baekhyun had even suggested he break out some tap moves, when Sehun slipped-his ankle went wonky, rolling wrong; he fell on his shoulder. The crowd, and the performers alike, all gasped in unison.
Jongin instantly dropped to a crouch, asking him if he was okay and inspecting the ankle. Sehun protested that he was fine, no big deal, guys, seriously, but when he stood he couldn’t put weight on it.
Baekhyun stepped forward from behind his piano. “Oh, no you don’t, we’re taking you to the hospital,” he said firmly, twirling car keys on a finger.
“I’m fine,” ground out Sehun, but then Jongin and Baekhyun both hooked each of his arms around their shoulders and he reluctantly limped with them.
Jongin sent Kyungsoo an apologetic look as Baekhyun turned to Chanyeol to do the same. “Sorry, I’ll come to clean up as soon as I can,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of his keyboard setup.
“The Phoenix”-the name of his van, God save him-“will fit everything, take your time,” said Chanyeol.
He glanced at Kyungsoo in the crowd, then out among the unfamiliar faces. They were starting to leave, uncomfortable in the wake of injury. Chanyeol was at a loss. Should he keep playing? He had busked alone, but all four of them was a hard act to follow. He sat down with his guitar on his lap, trying not to let the several people leaving bother him. His mind went blank, something that rarely happened, as if suddenly he had never heard or learned a song before in his life. He looked back up at the crowd, a nervous smile in place of his general charm.
He and Kyungsoo made eye contact, and Chanyeol must have sent some sort of telepathic SOS because-
“I wanna be a billionaire...So freakin’ bad.”The dispersing crowd turned, enraptured by the sudden siren sound of Kyungoo’s song. He widened his eyes insistently at Chanyeol, eyebrows jerking up as if to say, Play your part. He continued, some attitude leaking into the lyrics, “Buy all of the things I never had.”
Chanyeol shook himself from shock, fingers finding their proper place on his guitar. Kyungsoo knew he had known this song, and as he came forward, still singing, Kyungsoo had to fight the smile from overtaking his face. Chanyeol grinned in kind.
When Kyungsoo made his way to his rightful place by his side, Chanyeol leaned over and whispered to him, lips brushing his ear, “And the spy saves the day.”
Kyungsoo’s voice nearly faltered, but he held strong and patted Chanyeol’s thigh appreciatively. The crowd stayed, swaying in time with them and more money filled the guitar case as they sang on. When the song ended and they geared up for a new one, Chanyeol whispered in his ear once again, “Thank you.”
Kyungsoo beamed up at him, sliding into a new song and catching the other off-guard once again, like he always seemed to do.
✮☆✮☆✮
“Hey,” greeted Jongin when he poked his head into Chanyeol’s house, a newly bandaged Sehun in tow. “Baekhyun dropped us off.”
Chanyeol nodded, opening the door wider for them to enter. Sehun lumbered his way toward the stairs, clearly annoyed with his new crutches.
“You want help?” offered Jongin, resting a hand gingerly at his back.
“I can make it up the stairs,” he snapped, his lisp coming out in frustration.
Jongin held his hands up in surrender. Then he turned to Chanyeol. “Did the keyboard go home with Kyungsoo?”
“Yep,” responded Chanyeol, then he sighed. “He saved the day, actually. We sang together. It was...it was really great. Kind of phenomenal. And we made bank.”
Jongin grin went lopsided. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“Questioning my motives?” teased Chanyeol, crossing his arms over his chest.
“He’s ‘The One’!” called back Sehun on his ascent. “Chanyeol said so!”
“Hey!” cried Chanyeol indignantly, jumping to the barrister and leaning over it to yell at the traitor. “I paid good money for that to be kept secret!”
Sehun turned, that characteristic villainous smile returning. “You only said ‘Don’t tell Jongdae,’ there was no mention of Jongin or anyone else.”
Chanyeol pressed his forehead to the railing, letting out a growl of frustration before righting himself. “Next time we’re drawing up a contract.”
“I’ll find a loophole,” chortled Sehun.
Chanyeol stood to his full height, arms petulantly folded over his chest again. “Yes,” he admitted, answering Jongin’s question. “I really like him.”
Jongin looked about ready to bust his gut he was trying so hard not to laugh at him. “‘The One’?”
“Shut up,” ground out Chanyeol.
Jongin shrugged, sobering a moment. “If you really like him, let me give you a little advice.”
Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion, but reluctantly said, “I’m listening.”
“You know what made you a player?” asked Jongin. He continued before Chanyeol could protest, “You weren’t sincere. You were a good boyfriend, on paper. You did everything by the book. Dinner, movie, flowers, cuddles. You did what was expected of you, not because you necessarily wanted to, but because you knew it would get you what you wanted. You didn’t mean any of it, not really. You were always guarded.” He sighed. “Maybe it’s time to go off-script.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Chanyeol responded, “You...are weirdly sagely sometimes.”
Jongin shrugged.
He smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, man.”
Jongin nodded, hugged him, then left him to consider his off-script options.
✮☆✮☆✮
( continued)
ship/s: chanyeol/d.o., baekhyun/kai, sehun/tao, chen/liyin
rating: nc-17
word count: ~11.1k
summary: When Kyungsoo Do moves out of his parents’ house his third year of college, everything is perfect...Except his neighbor.
warnings: swearing, sex and sexual themes, alcohol use (and a little drunken canoodling), terribly unclever dog names
notes: originally written and posted for moon_things on the sooheaven fic exchange. this one’s got some more polish and some errors have been fixed but it is unfortunately not the “extended version” with the extra scenes that i wanted it to be. consider it the “give-up” version and maybe the extra scenes (they go see singin’ in the rain and chanyeol takes kyungsoo out for ice cream) will be written at a later time. shrug!!! thanks to trashcanyeol for beta'ing the first version and general moral support c:
When Kyungsoo Do moves out of his parents’ house his third year of college, everything is perfect. The new house isn’t too small or too big, with a kitchen spacious enough for him to dance in while cooking. School is just a quick bike-ride away. His housemates are courteous and friendly, and they have a big TV with a lot of video games (too many, probably, if they want to pass their classes). The neighborhood is beautiful and sprawling, full of old memories and assorted, candy-hued homes like a street of technicolor gingerbread houses. It’s every bit what a college town should be: homey but young and exuberant, colorful and vibrant. His miniature collie Jean came with him in the move, and he loves the place too; there is even a sweet little dog park walking distance from his new house. Everything is perfect.
Except his neighbor.
For one, Chanyeol Park is a giant, which does not endear him to Kyungsoo in the least. Honestly, the fact that the guy could easily press his lips to Kyungsoo’s hairline and then comfortably rest his chin atop his head-and that this is the example of their height difference that pops into his head and makes him shiver with sudden warmth-offends his sensibilities. He is horrified by the idea that his own shoulder-to-shoulder length is ¾ths of the neighbor’s (a generous comparison; if he were to be honest with himself, it’s closer to half). Still managing to be skinny as a rail, Chanyeol is large, everything about him: large frame, large hands, large arms, large feet, large ears, large voice, large...well, that Kyungsoo doesn’t know about for sure and he’s certainly not going to think about it either. Except he does. He thinks about it a lot.
He thinks about Chanyeol a lot. And this occupation of his thoughts also does not endear him to Kyungsoo, much like the occupation of France did not endear the Nazis to the French. Nor do Chanyeol's carelessly tousled (but probably carefully permed), undoubtedly dyed auburn waves; nor the cutest little dimple that comes out to sullenly say hello whenever the big guy pouts-and don’t even get Kyungsoo started on that toothy, open-mouthed laugh...
The truth is, Chanyeol is obnoxiously pretty. Now, Kyungsoo can handle pretty. He’s had to look in the mirror his whole life and have it staring back at him, thank you very much. His housemates Jongin and Baekhyun have the same brand of obscenely effortless beauty (and they don't wear a lot of clothes when they're home), but for some reason they don’t piss Kyungsoo off. Not like Chanyeol does.
But to top it all off, this specimen of apparent human perfection is the most insufferably cheery ray of light. And that’s coming from someone who lives with Baekhyun Byun, who can only be compared to an incessantly shining fluorescent light bulb when speaking in terms of bright personalities. But Chanyeol...Chanyeol is the whole sun. And it’s blinding. At least, that’s what Kyungsoo tells himself is the reason he wants nothing to do with him. That, and the stench of hopeless douchebag on him.
Well, and he also plays the drums. Loudly. At any. Given. Time.
In any case, the simple fact remains that he doesn’t want to be around the guy. In any other case, Chanyeol being his neighbor or his friends’ friend could have given him enough leeway to at least avoid him naturally-but Kyungsoo’s dog likes Chanyeol’s dog, and therein lies the unavoidable problem.
They met serendipitously, although Kyungsoo hadn’t seen it as such. Spontaneously, maybe. By happenstance. Coincidentally. Anything but the “happy accident” a word like “serendipity” entails. Strangely enough and despite the fact that they are indeed neighbors and Chanyeol is indeed Kyungsoo’s friends’ friend, The Fates didn’t even have the decency to ordain it an awkward, “Welcome to the neighborhood, new neighbor!” or “I’ve heard so much about you, new best friend!” but something entirely worse.
It was early morning at the bark park, Kyungsoo in his couldn’t-care-less spectacles and Chanyeol in his jogging clothes. Kyungsoo was looking particularly disheveled: unkempt mop of vividly red hair flopping over his starkly contrasting undercut, glasses slightly askew, and still wearing his oversized sleep shirt with some hastily added worn-out sweats and ratty sneakers-and Chanyeol, of course, set the tone for the remainder of their acquaintance up until now: by looking objectionably handsome.
The dregs of summer were still lingering in this September, the sun defiantly peeking above the horizon despite autumn rearing its drowsy, slow-to-wake head. Chanyeol was radiant beneath that sun, as if its source rather than its recipient; the sheen of sweat from his run glittered like lacquer as he sat with his yellow labrador beneath a tree. Casually seated as he was, staring off into space with an idle hand curling in his dog’s fur, he looked more like a model for some glamorous photoshoot unbeknownst to the rest of the world.
It happened quickly. When he reached the bark park, Kyungsoo had only unhooked Jean’s leash for but a moment and he was speeding off in the stranger’s direction. When Jean reached him, nipping affectionately at the other dog, Chanyeol’s face lit up, eyes bright and wide and excited. Normally so well-mannered and -trained, Jean pounced onto Chanyeol’s chest, slobbering all over his face and eliciting delighted giggles from the latter.
“Sorry!” called Kyungsoo after them, rushing to drag Jean away from the sprawled jogger.
“Nah, man, it’s alright,” he assured him between giggle fits without raising his head to see him, sitting up and ruffling Jean’s fur. “I love dogs, this is basically puppy heaven.” He then addressed Jean, “Good morning,” and flashed a brilliant smile.
For a split second, Kyungsoo’s heart caught in his throat but then the labrador came forward, nosing his hand insistently and he was graciously distracted.
The dog was familiar as Kyungsoo had seen the little guy bounding along the backyard, and his owner was familiar in voice alone: a surprisingly deep, powerful baritone. From the stranger’s elven ears and fine, baby-faced features, Kyungsoo would have expected a more boyish sound coming from him. He had had no idea this was the next-door neighbor from whom he had caught bits of songs traveling between their houses.
Scritching Jean’s ears, Chanyeol finally looked up at Kyungsoo-and made a face as if he had been punched in the gut. He scrambled to his full height, bow-legged and gangly and towering over the other.
“I’m Chanyeol,” he introduced in a rush, thrusting out his hand to shake. His tan, defined arms were free from sleeves and his gray sweatpants were tight around the ankles, loose where it counted-but not quite loose enough that Kyungsoo’s imagination couldn’t easily fill in the blanks. “I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you new? You’re Baekhyun and Jongin’s new housemate, aren’t you? Kyungsoo, right?”
Kyungsoo felt the rapid-fire questions as though they were tangible objects pelted at him, shaking his hand cautiously. “Yeah...h-how did you know?” He pressed his forefingers together nervously before he realized he was fidgeting, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Chanyeol grinned sheepishly. “I play the drums.”
“You…?” Kyungsoo screwed up his face in puzzlement. Then it dawned on him-it had been he, Chanyeol, who had been the one causing all the racket for his first days in the house: “Oh. Oh.” His voice...somehow he hadn’t put it together yet...
Guiltily, Chanyeol skewed his lips to one side, a dimple surfacing. “Jongdae told me about you. I’m his housemate,” he explained quickly, eyes twinkling with silent laughter as he bent to ruffle Jean’s fur. “And I already met your dog...But Jongdae didn’t say you were, um. Well.” He blushed, realizing where his sentence had been going. Normally his tongue would be quick to compliment a pretty stranger but this one...this one was somehow different.
With narrowed eyes, Kyungsoo asked, “What?” Short? Small? Narrow-shoulder’d? were the conclusions his inner thoughts jumped to.
“Nothing,” said Chanyeol dismissively, wincing. He quickly changed the subject. “So this is your new girlfriend, Eggroll,” he addressed his own dog. “I was wondering where you were running off to.”
“Jean is a boy,” corrected Kyungsoo warily, a little miffed. “As in Jean Valjean,” he added when Chanyeol’s face went blank. “As in Les Misérables?”
“Oh. Boyfriend, then,” he amended, sinking to a crouch to see Eggroll at eye level. He continued in a babble: “I’m kinda bummed. See, his name’s technically not really Eggroll, that was just something Sehun called him-Sehun’s our other housemate, sorry-and now he only answers to it. Sehun must have trained him behind my back or something because it just stuck. But anyway, his real name is Glen.” He beamed up at Kyungsoo. “After Glen Hansard. You know, the main character from Once? Ever seen?”
Kyungsoo only nodded, overwhelmed. He saw why Chanyeol and Baekhyun were friends.
“I was hoping this would be his Markéta,” said Chanyeol shyly, scratching Jean behind the ears.
“I seriously doubt our dogs are romantically involved,” deadpanned Kyungsoo. He didn’t mention the fact that Once didn’t necessarily have a happy ending for its protagonists, nor did he remind him that Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová had broken up in real life.
Chanyeol shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
An awkward silence passed between them. Chanyeol stood again, as Jean and Eggroll/Glen rassled in the grass. He wouldn’t stop staring at Kyungsoo.
“So…” he began, desperate to fill the silence and distract himself, “how did you meet Jongin and Baekhyun?”
“Voice,” replied Kyungsoo simply. Remembering his tendency to be too short with his words, he hastily added, “I’m a voice major. I met Baekhyun and Jongdae through class.”
“Right, of course, Jongdae told me.” He quirked his lips to the side again, the dimple making a comeback. “I’m surprised I didn’t meet you before.” I’m surprised they didn’t introduce us, was the unheard sentence lingering in the air as he continued to gaze at him.
Kyungsoo shifted stiffly, uncomfortable under such scrutiny. At a loss, he felt he needed to fill the silence, elucidating, “I only met Jongin when I first visited the house, to see if I wanted to live there. I’d heard about him before, of course, from Baekhyun.”
Chanyeol smiled knowingly. “He does like to brag.”
Indeed, Baekhyun did. In fact, by the time he mentioned that he was looking for a place to stay near campus, Kyungsoo was half-convinced that Baekhyun had simply made his boyfriend up. There hadn’t been a shred of evidence that he existed, all he had were Baekhyun’s descriptors, and none of them had sounded credible. He sounded more like an oddly specific dream boy than a real person. Especially every time he’d tell a story from rehearsal for the school musical where they had met, saying things like, “His hair fanned out and sweat flew off the ends like a sprinkler."-Cue dreamy sigh-"He looked so cool.”
Exist he did, though, and all of Baekhyun’s gushing hardly did him justice: he had been a sight to behold when Kyungsoo had strolled over the threshold of his soon-to-be new home and found him stretching on the floor in shorts riding up his muscled thighs, short sleeves revealing a subtle farmer’s tan among his already richly dark skin. Fluffy brown hair in his drowsy but still captivating eyes, Jongin had looked up at them with full lips still pursed in concentration. His ridiculously broad shoulders had stretched the old T-shirt close to ripping; Kyungsoo had felt equally painful pangs of envy and attraction.
Kyungsoo’s mouth must have dropped a little, because Baekhyun had barked out a laugh. “This sleep-zombie is Jongin,” he had said in a forcedly exasperated voice bursting with adoration as he had strode over to Jongin where he sat on the floor, fondly blinking up at his boyfriend. Baekhyun had then ruffled Jongin’s hair sweetly, muttering under his breath to him about their new potential housemate why do you look like you just woke from a nap. Grinning, he had turned back to Kyungsoo, “I told you I didn’t make him up. Told you he was hot.”
Though obviously embarrassed, Jongin had preened, shyly leaning his flushed cheek against Baekhyun’s thigh. “Hi,” he had greeted, deep voice crackled from sleep.
It hadn’t taken them long to strike up a deal; from the beginning, Kyungsoo had loved the place, and from what he had heard, he was sure he would get along with Jongin-though the latter himself had seemed reluctant at first.
“Do you have anything weird about your stuff?” he had asked after a long bout of silence, as they gave him the grand tour of their bitty house. They had stopped at what would be Kyungsoo’s new room, their old one as their previous housemate, Luhan, had the bigger room before graduating.
“What?” Kyungsoo had asked incredulously.
“Do you have anything weird about your stuff?” he had repeated. “Luhan was weird about his bed. We couldn’t sit on it at all, not even to hang out.”
“N-no…” Kyungsoo had verbally stumbled. “I don’t think so.”
“Also,” Jongin had added, “this one”-he had poked Baekhyun in the cheek-“will steal your clothes.”
Baekhyun had scrunched up his nose, grabbing Jongin’s hand away from his face but not letting go.
“And he sings,” Jongin had added, a grin overtaking his lips. “All the time. And he never stops moving.” With a pointed look, he held up where their hands met, where Baekhyun's thin piano-perfect fingers were drumming against his skin.
Initially, Kyungsoo had expected some sort of test, but this had come as some surprise. He had remained shocked for only a moment, before a grin of his own spread and he had said, “I think I can handle how annoying Baekhyun can get.”
Jongin had smiled at that; Baekhyun had pouted. But then, Jongin’s face had turned stoney, asking in an apparently very serious tone, “What can you bring to this house?”
Kyungsoo had been aghast. “I…” he had begun, a little desperate for a living space. “I can cook and clean.”
“I was kidding!” Jongin had exclaimed quickly, the couple rushing forward to put their arms around him.
“Mommyyyy,” Baekhyun had cried to Kyungsoo, rubbing his cheek affectionately against his. Then his face had taken on an expression of resolute determination, pulling Kyungsoo closer to his chest and looking up at Jongin to declare, “We’re keeping him.”
“Get off of me,” Kyungsoo had grumbled, secretly pleased. But he had shoved them off all the same-
“Though not about you, apparently,” commented Chanyeol softly, almost as if to himself, as he cocked his head to the side and shifted his grip on Eggroll’s leash, squeezing the fingers of both hands around it. Had Kyungsoo been paying more attention, he may have recognized it as a possible nervous habit.
Consequently, though, Kyungsoo shook himself from the memory, returning back to the present. The present of this hellishly awkward encounter with his unfortunately handsome and increasingly annoying neighbor. His response to Chanyeol’s borderline inappropriate would-be come-on was none other than, “Uh,” and then had nothing further to contribute. Then, just for something to do with his hands, Kyungsoo foraged his pockets and procured a tube of lip balm. All too aware of Chanyeol’s eyes still on him, Kyungsoo shakily uncapped it with a small pop and proceeded to-very innocently-dab at his full lips.
Chanyeol’s mouth went a little slack. Kyungsoo’s ears turned red. Shit.
“Hey, uh,” started Chanyeol distractedly as he hooked Eggroll’s leash back to his collar, “you wanna, like, hang out right now? Or something? Grab some coffee?”
It had barely made it out of Chanyeol’s mouth when Kyungsoo was stuttering that he had to leave, calling Jean back to his side and reattaching his leash.
Chanyeol called after him as he left, “Let me make you dinner! You and Jongin and Baekhyun!”
Kyungsoo turned around.
“As a housewarming gift,” he continued. He added hopefully, “I’m a really good cook.”
Kyungsoo knew that if he tried to get Jongin and Baekhyun out of a free meal, they would never forgive him; he would get even, of course, but it probably wouldn’t be good for their budding living situation. So he quietly answered, “Okay,” then scurried off.
Chanyeol stared after him, again with that gut-punched look on his face.
✮☆✮☆✮
“You didn’t tell me he was hot.”
Jongdae looked blearily up at Chanyeol over his textbook as his housemate walked through the doorway and let Eggroll speed off. He opened his mouth to drop the pen from his teeth. “I didn’t tell you who was hot?” he asked before setting his homework aside to pet Eggroll. “Hey there, buddy,” he cooed to the dog.
“Kyungsoo,” answered Chanyeol, plopping down beside him with his back to the armrest.
Their house wasn’t exactly spacious, despite its two stories the adjective “dinky” was still often used, but it was still a mite too large for only three people. The living room, where they sat now, was adjacent to a decently-sized kitchen that was separated by a wall lining the walkway from the front door Chanyeol had come from. Behind the couch was the closet under the stairs (their “Harry Potter cupboard”) where they kept DVD’s and video games that were always a hassle to get to. Chanyeol absently fiddled with the doorknob.
“I didn’t?” said Jongdae, cocking his head quizzically and narrowing his eyes. “Pretty sure I did. Pretty sure I told you the exact words, ‘tiny and fuckable’.”
“‘Fuckable’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, though, he’s like, wow,” said Chanyeol emphatically, gesticulating something reminiscent of an explosion with splayed hands. “His eyes and his hair and, and his lips...just. I mean. Wow.”
What Kyungsoo would have described as “disheveled,” Chanyeol would have dubbed, “morning chic.” The just-rolled-out-of-bed look did wonders for him, red hair catching like flame in the sunlight. Chanyeol had been blown away from the moment he’d looked up at him, framed by the barely risen sun like a scene out of some ultra cheesy romcom. Kyungsoo’s eyes, as Chanyeol had so breathlessly listed among his finest attributes, were huge, wide and bright despite the dark brown of his irises. And his lips? Mesmerizing. Plush and smooth and enticing. He’d nearly had an aneurysm when Kyungsoo had put on the chapstick; it was so simply, effortlessly sexy that Chanyeol had thought it was a move, not a nervous habit. But in the end his shyness had only been a plus for Chanyeol. And although “tiny and fuckable” did not quite do the young man justice, Chanyeol couldn’t help but adore his size-and couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted more: to carry him around wherever he went (be it bridal style or piggy-back ride) or have him sit on his face.
But Jongdae only shrugged. “I guess.”
“You guess?” Chanyeol stared, at a loss. “You really are a different guy when you have a girlfriend. Liyin has trained you well.”
“Shut up,” replied Jongdae, chucking a pen at his head.
It missed by only a hair, whizzing past Chanyeol’s ear. Before Chanyeol could jump forward for a counterattack, Sehun’s key turned the lock and he carefully tip-toed inside.
Chanyeol leaned back so he could see the entrance, deadpanning with eyes rolling back in his head, “We’re awake, we already know you spent the night at Zitao’s.”
Sehun winced, swore, then slung his backpack to the floor and slipped off his shoes before joining them in the living room. “It’s the asscrack of dawn, why are you awake?” he demanded, nudging Eggroll from his spot on the couch and pushing Jongdae’s legs out of the way. The dog whined, resting his whiskered chin on Sehun’s knee from his new, unwanted spot on the floor.
Chanyeol and Jongdae promptly responded in tandem: “Class.”
Groaning, Chanyeol leaned back over the arm of the couch again, hands dangling and whispering over the floor. “It’s a human right’s violation to have percussion this early in the morning. I swear to God, I am this close to gagging myself with a marimba mallet.”
Trying not to smile, Sehun quipped in the most deadpan, sardonic tone he could muster, “You’re going to deep-throat your marimba mallet. I knew you were going through a dry spell, Chanyeol, but that’s a little extreme.”
Chanyeol rolled his eyes, sitting up. “It is also a human rights violation for you to be a little shit this early in the morning.” He then gave the both of them an accusatory glare. Jongdae, who had just been laughing his ass off, widened his eyes in pseudo-innocent shock as if to say, Who! Moi? “And that I am the only one single in this house. How did this even happen?” he cried out melodramatically, flinging himself back over the couch arm.
“You ran out of people to seduce, for one,” offered Jongdae, standing and gathering up his school things.
Chanyeol sat with a snap again. “That’s not fair. Those were legitimate dates. And relationships.”
“Whatever you say, player,” said Jongdae dismissively, shoving everything into his questionable man-handbag.
Chanyeol’s pout-dimple showed itself and Jongdae poked it on his way out. “See you later,” he threw over his shoulder. He abruptly stopped at the door. “Oh! Were we supposed to busk next weekend?”
“Yeah,” replied Chanyeol.
“I can’t go,” said Jongdae apologetically, but then he waggled his eyebrows at Chanyeol. “I have a date.” He then left with a last wave.
Chanyeol grumbled for a moment then jolted, remembering: “Oh! I invited Kyungsoo, Jongin and Baekhyun over for dinner!” He yelled after, though he knew he already couldn’t hear.
“You met Kyungsoo?” asked Sehun, leaning forward and tucking his legs criss-cross-apple-sauce beneath him. “He’s hot, right?”
“Thank you,” said Chanyeol with exaggerated gestures, as if proving a point to the absent Jongdae. “But you’ve met him too? How did you and Jongdae meet him but I didn’t?”
“I don’t know, to keep you from deflowering him?”-Chanyeol hit him, Sehun blocked-“Guy’s got a great ass though.”
“Don’t be crass, Sehun,” snapped Chanyeol, attempting to hit him again.
“Whoa, what’s your deal all of a sudden? Wait a minute,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes, his arms still hovering in a defensive move. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, “You’re not, like, interested in him, are you? Like, interested-interested?”
Chanyeol choked a little on his own tongue. “No.”
“Chanyeol…”
“Alright, so maybe I asked him out for coffee. So what? I’m a healthy young man, I’m allowed to have interests.”
“I know Baekhyun told you he was off-limits, they’ve been looking for a housemate for months,” scolded Sehun, though his heart wasn’t in it. Mostly he was entertained. “You can’t go ruining this for them by breaking the new guy’s heart.”
“That was before I saw him…and anyway, he turned me down.” He then did a double-take. “What makes you say I’ll break his heart!?”
Sehun shot him a look. “Come on, Jongdae already said it. You’re a player.”
“I am not,” he protested adamantly. “Maybe I’ve just been, you know...looking for The One, or whatever.”
Dumbstruck, Sehun stared at him for a moment...and then burst out laughing.
Chanyeol blushed scarlet. “Sh-shut up…”
“You think Kyungsoo is The One?” asked Sehun between dying giggles, tears in his eyes.
“No! I don’t know!” shouted Chanyeol defensively. “Whatever, fuck you.” He quickly added, standing, “I’m gonna be late, and I still have to shower.”
“Yeah,” chuckled Sehun, pinching his nose dramatically. “You stink…”
“Don’t say it,” interrupted Chanyeol.
“...of love!” he finished.
Chanyeol groaned, “You’re the worst, that wasn’t even clever,” then threw a pillow in Sehun’s direction and began to trudge his way to the stairs to shower. Stumbling, he ran back as he remembered something: “Don’t tell Jongdae!”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he replied, an evil grin splitting his face as he held out an upturned hand. “For twenty bucks, that is.” He gestured impatiently. “Pony up, cowboy.”
Chanyeol reluctantly took out his wallet.
✮☆✮☆✮
After dropping Jean off back at home and changing, Kyungsoo resumed his day normally, if not a little shook up. It had been far too early for such a slew of compliments and would-be flirtations, and it unfortunately affected him. All throughout the day, in every class, Kyungsoo’s mind seemed to wander, meandering its little way back to Chanyeol in that sleeveless shirt and those little-to-the-imagination sweatpants. When he put him on “mute,” he was cute-because any time Daydream Chanyeol opened his mouth, something Real Chanyeol would say came out. This made daydreaming with any sort of satisfaction very difficult.
Not that daydreaming about Chanyeol was his desire...or anything...like that…
He spent much of the day groaning at himself. He didn’t want to like Chanyeol, and he didn’t, because there was that something about him that screamed bad idea!, much like that something about him that screamed desperate hornball! So what if their dogs liked each other? So what if he was friends...with all his friends…?
So what if he was so good-looking Kyungsoo’s stomach did backflips?
When he got home he was even more drained than usual, blinking hard over his oxygen-deprived eyes begging to be rid of their contact lenses. Jean was there to greet him jovially when he strolled inside, pocketing his keys. He patted his head obligingly, but muttered under his breath, “This is all your fault, I hope you know.”
Jean cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth in a smile that looked almost cheeky, as if he knew. Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at the dog before he bounded off back into the living room where he had come from. He followed him.
Lo, there lay Jongin, in a position much like the one he was in when Kyungsoo had met him: stretching. That was, until Jean distracted him. Then he just did something akin to melting, forgetting his stretching to curl round the canine like he was a fluffy space heater.
Baekhyun was on the couch, fingers tapping out a beat on his thigh as he perused his performance homework. He looked up, nodding in dismissive acknowledgement to Kyungsoo, obviously rapt.
Kyungsoo didn’t mind, striding past them toward the kitchen.
As Kyungsoo turned away from them, Jongin sat up and stated simply, “So you met Chanyeol,” making him jump.
Startled, Kyungsoo turned and asked, “How did you know?”
Glancing up from the papers on his lap, Baekhyun answered for him, “You have a haunted look in your eyes.”
“He called,” corrected Jongin, shooting Baekhyun a somewhat withering look. He turned back to Kyungsoo. “I’m guessing he hit on you?”
Kyungsoo nodded sheepishly.
“Yeah,” interjected Baekhyun thoughtfully, looking him up and down, “if Chanyeol had a type, it’d be you.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” continued Jongin. “Flirting is like breathing to Chanyeol. He just needs a firm hand.”
Behind him, Baekhyun coughed as though attempting to quell overpowering laughter. He failed, dissolving into fits of giggles. Jongin gave him another look. “Oh come on,” sputtered Baekhyun. “You said it.”
Jongin’s cheeks burned and he looked a little tight-lipped as though he were also trying not to laugh, but he turned his attention back to Kyungsoo anyway. “The point is, you shouldn’t let it bother you,” he started forcefully. “He’s harmless. And he’ll back off eventually.”
“That being said,” began Baekhyun before looking up and folding his thin fingers over his lap. “Jonginnie and I are going to rehearsal for Singin’ in the Rain tonight, so we rainchecked dinner with Chanyeol.”
But then-“You’re leaving?” demanded Kyungsoo, a little panicky. “What if he comes over?”
Baekhyun tilted his head, apparently amused. “It’s like Jongin said, he’s harmless.” He then smirked, adding (a little sinisterly), “He only bites when asked.”
Kyungsoo rolled his eyes then glared menacingly; Baekhyun flinched in some sort of Pavlovian response. He’d experienced too many Kyungsoo-induced dead arms to not live in constant fear of a retaliatory punch.
He cleared his throat and tried to deflect the conversation in another direction. “I’d leave Jongin here to chaperone you if I could. He has to go practice with Prima Ballerina Krystal Soojung Jung,” he said the name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, every syllable punctuated with something a little milder than disgust. There was a teasing smile on his face, but Kyungsoo suspected his jealousy was, at least in part, genuine. Baekhyun turned on Jongin. “You kiss her yet?”
Jongin slumped uncomfortably. “It’s the choreography...” he told him, embarrassed. It wasn’t an answer. He got up and walked over, playfully cuffing his ear. “You kiss Sunny even more.”
“That’s different,” protested Baekhyun, grabbing Jongin’s hand and pouting.
“Mmmhmm,” hummed Jongin skeptically, though he leaned in and kissed the flush rising over Baekhyun’s neck.
Kyungsoo felt a little ill watching them. “I’ll go make us dinner then,” he deadpanned loudly, quickly leaving the room and contemplating the real drawbacks of living with a couple.
After a quick dinner, once the lovebirds had left for practice, Chanyeol did indeed pay Kyungsoo a visit right when he was in the middle of some practicing himself. Jean bounded right on up to the threshold, well-trained enough not to bark but looking ecstatic. Kyungsoo cleared his throat before opening the door.
“Hi,” greeted Chanyeol, already a little breathless in his presence. He distracted himself by leaning down to pet Jean.
Kyungsoo awkwardly responded in kind.
Chanyeol cut to the chase, gripping onto the door frame for moral support. “I know dinner didn’t work out tonight, but I was wondering if you wanted to have a little doggy play date sometime, for Jean and Eggroll. Glen. Whatever. I think they’d enjoy it.”
Great. Now if Kyungsoo refused he’d look like a prick. Very cunning, Chanyeol. Score one for Chanyeol. He agreed, albeit a little solemnly, and in such a way that showed on Chanyeol’s face that he wasn’t satisfied.
“Um, well. Anyway,” he began, holding up his cell phone. “I would have texted or called, but I don’t have your number, so…”
“Oh.” God dammit. Kyungsoo reluctantly swiped Chanyeol’s phone when he offered it, brutally punching in the numbers before shoving it into Chanyeol’s chest.
He didn’t seem to mind, grinning like a fool in a way that made Kyungsoo’s insides perform gymnastics (again). He then waved him goodnight and wished him sweet dreams.
Kyungsoo stood rooted to the spot until Jean licked his fingers and brought him back to the present.
✮☆✮☆✮
It wasn’t until later in the week that Chanyeol realized he hadn’t actually set up a date and time for this “doggy play date” scheme. At least I got his number, he grumbled to himself upon this realization. He was grateful he hadn’t gone through his typical scheme of moves: swipe the other’s phone from them, punch in his number and take a cute selfie for the contact profile pic (this method worked 9 times out of 10)-because then he doubted Kyungsoo would have ever actually called him, and then where would he be?
Setting a date and time turned out to not be as painful a process as he thought it would be. Kyungsoo on the other line, however, was suffering because Chanyeol’s voice over the phone sounded like how chocolate tasted, but they were able to meet very soon indeed-but not until after some very awkward exchanges on campus.
Kyungsoo was very curious as to how he managed to get through two years of school without spotting Chanyeol once and now, neighbors and passing each other on a huge university campus multiple times almost every day. Had the stars aligned to screw him over?
The first time wouldn’t have been so bad, if Chanyeol hadn’t pointed at him with finger pistols and gone, “‘Eyyy!” in greeting across the quad. Kyungsoo’s ears had been so red they looked like smoke was about to come curling out of them.
“Why are you like this,” he muttered under his breath, reaching Chanyeol in a few strides.
“Hmm?” hummed Chanyeol innocently.
Ears that big and he hadn’t heard? Sure. “Nothing,” responded Kyungsoo bitingly. He begrudgingly asked without inflection, “How are you.”
Chanyeol bobbed his head, beaming. “Good. Eggroll can’t wait to hang out with you and Jean.”
With nothing to say, Kyungsoo thinned his lips and puffed out his cheeks.
This. Kept. Happening.
Except they started talking. About everything. About movies, and music, Jongin and Baekhyun and Jongdae and even Sehun. Chanyeol spoke (bragged, really. But for once, Kyungsoo didn’t seem to mind) of his playing nearly every instrument under the sun; Kyungsoo responded, with some enthusiasm, about his silent interest in the guitar, his curious plunkings on Baekhyun’s piano. They found they liked a lot of the same things, shared the same passions. They managed to fill the awkward silences with stirring conversation. Even when they did finally meet up for that doggy date, they miraculously hadn’t run out of things to talk about, and Kyungsoo suspected that that would never happen.
And it was also about then that Kyungsoo came to the horrifying conclusion that, had he met Chanyeol under even slightly different circumstances, he would have gone home with him that day.
“You ever busked before?” asked Chanyeol, jolting Kyungsoo out of his reverie as they strolled to the park, leashed dogs trotting their way down the street in front of them.
“Huh?” he said, jumping slightly. “Oh, no.”
Chanyeol worried his bottom lip through his teeth, cheek dimpling before speaking, “You want to?”
Kyungsoo cocked his head to the side. “With you and the gang? Jongin, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Sehun? Isn’t that a bit of a crowd?” he laughed.
“Nah, it’d be great. Jongin and Sehun mostly just dance, though we’ve done some great rap breaks. And Jongdae’s got a date this weekend so he won’t even be there. But you’ve got an amazing voice, so I thought, I don’t know, that you should join.”
Kyungsoo blushed.
“I heard you, um, practicing,” explained Chanyeol. “It carries. I thought you were Baekhyun at first, actually, but there’s something, I don’t know, smoother about it?” He shrugged. “It’s nice.”
Kyungsoo had heard of thunderstruck, moonstruck, dumbstruck-never had he heard of someone being grinstruck, but there he was, the corners of his lips lifting like they had minds of their own.
Chanyeol cleared his throat, trying to rush away from his compliment as fast as he could. “Now, you don’t have to actually join. What I mean is, you don’t actually have to do anything with us yet, I mean we haven’t all rehearsed together or anything, but...you could still come this weekend. I’d like you...to come, I mean.” Chanyeol gave a little laugh. “You could be our spy in the crowd.”
Despite his best efforts, that grin stayed on Kyungsoo’s face. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, alright.”
✮☆✮☆✮
Busking day came sooner than Kyungsoo had anticipated. The days between blurred in a flurry of homework and studying, applying for jobs, and these pockets of time that highlighted his evenings home: pockets filled with Chanyeol.
Next door neighbors though they were, they still didn’t see each other often outside of their doggy dates and chance glances at school, and before they had actually met Kyungsoo had learned to easily block out the loud neighbor but now...Now that he had thrust himself to the forefront of Kyungsoo’s mind, Chanyeol stood out. On the nights he had to stay up late studying, Kyungsoo found himself listening for Chanyeol, to see if he had made it home. Or he’d bob his head in time to the drumset beats. Sometimes, when he peeked out the hallway window he could see a half-naked Chanyeol in his room spinning about in something akin to a dance. From his own bedroom, Kyungsoo could hear Chanyeol rap in the shower. And he couldn’t catch distinct words, but when Chanyeol was talking with Jongdae and Sehun, Kyungsoo could hear that deep voice, and the laugh that traveled the distance between houses.
He found himself waiting for these pockets of time; caught himself smiling at any hint of Chanyeol.
Needless to say, Kyungsoo wasn’t in the best mood come busking day. Although everyone else’s high spirits were infectious, Kyungsoo’s disdain showed more sour than he wanted. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes glaring. Their planted spy looked more like a potential heckler than someone who would encourage generous donations to the open guitar case in front of them. He did his job, though, dropping in a five dollar bill for show. (Chanyeol had promised he’d get it back; Kyungsoo didn’t actually believe him, but he did it anyway.)
Deserving of those five dollars, however, they did sound and look good. Kyungsoo couldn’t deny that. They had set up in the main square, during the town’s quaint farmer’s market and had pulled quite the crowd to watch them.
Chanyeol was on guitar, Baekhyun on keyboard, Jongin and Sehun dancing in sync on a mat beside them. It didn’t take long for Kyungsoo to join in with the crowd’s clapping. Everything was going well, in fact Baekhyun had even suggested he break out some tap moves, when Sehun slipped-his ankle went wonky, rolling wrong; he fell on his shoulder. The crowd, and the performers alike, all gasped in unison.
Jongin instantly dropped to a crouch, asking him if he was okay and inspecting the ankle. Sehun protested that he was fine, no big deal, guys, seriously, but when he stood he couldn’t put weight on it.
Baekhyun stepped forward from behind his piano. “Oh, no you don’t, we’re taking you to the hospital,” he said firmly, twirling car keys on a finger.
“I’m fine,” ground out Sehun, but then Jongin and Baekhyun both hooked each of his arms around their shoulders and he reluctantly limped with them.
Jongin sent Kyungsoo an apologetic look as Baekhyun turned to Chanyeol to do the same. “Sorry, I’ll come to clean up as soon as I can,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of his keyboard setup.
“The Phoenix”-the name of his van, God save him-“will fit everything, take your time,” said Chanyeol.
He glanced at Kyungsoo in the crowd, then out among the unfamiliar faces. They were starting to leave, uncomfortable in the wake of injury. Chanyeol was at a loss. Should he keep playing? He had busked alone, but all four of them was a hard act to follow. He sat down with his guitar on his lap, trying not to let the several people leaving bother him. His mind went blank, something that rarely happened, as if suddenly he had never heard or learned a song before in his life. He looked back up at the crowd, a nervous smile in place of his general charm.
He and Kyungsoo made eye contact, and Chanyeol must have sent some sort of telepathic SOS because-
“I wanna be a billionaire...So freakin’ bad.”The dispersing crowd turned, enraptured by the sudden siren sound of Kyungoo’s song. He widened his eyes insistently at Chanyeol, eyebrows jerking up as if to say, Play your part. He continued, some attitude leaking into the lyrics, “Buy all of the things I never had.”
Chanyeol shook himself from shock, fingers finding their proper place on his guitar. Kyungsoo knew he had known this song, and as he came forward, still singing, Kyungsoo had to fight the smile from overtaking his face. Chanyeol grinned in kind.
When Kyungsoo made his way to his rightful place by his side, Chanyeol leaned over and whispered to him, lips brushing his ear, “And the spy saves the day.”
Kyungsoo’s voice nearly faltered, but he held strong and patted Chanyeol’s thigh appreciatively. The crowd stayed, swaying in time with them and more money filled the guitar case as they sang on. When the song ended and they geared up for a new one, Chanyeol whispered in his ear once again, “Thank you.”
Kyungsoo beamed up at him, sliding into a new song and catching the other off-guard once again, like he always seemed to do.
✮☆✮☆✮
“Hey,” greeted Jongin when he poked his head into Chanyeol’s house, a newly bandaged Sehun in tow. “Baekhyun dropped us off.”
Chanyeol nodded, opening the door wider for them to enter. Sehun lumbered his way toward the stairs, clearly annoyed with his new crutches.
“You want help?” offered Jongin, resting a hand gingerly at his back.
“I can make it up the stairs,” he snapped, his lisp coming out in frustration.
Jongin held his hands up in surrender. Then he turned to Chanyeol. “Did the keyboard go home with Kyungsoo?”
“Yep,” responded Chanyeol, then he sighed. “He saved the day, actually. We sang together. It was...it was really great. Kind of phenomenal. And we made bank.”
Jongin grin went lopsided. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“Questioning my motives?” teased Chanyeol, crossing his arms over his chest.
“He’s ‘The One’!” called back Sehun on his ascent. “Chanyeol said so!”
“Hey!” cried Chanyeol indignantly, jumping to the barrister and leaning over it to yell at the traitor. “I paid good money for that to be kept secret!”
Sehun turned, that characteristic villainous smile returning. “You only said ‘Don’t tell Jongdae,’ there was no mention of Jongin or anyone else.”
Chanyeol pressed his forehead to the railing, letting out a growl of frustration before righting himself. “Next time we’re drawing up a contract.”
“I’ll find a loophole,” chortled Sehun.
Chanyeol stood to his full height, arms petulantly folded over his chest again. “Yes,” he admitted, answering Jongin’s question. “I really like him.”
Jongin looked about ready to bust his gut he was trying so hard not to laugh at him. “‘The One’?”
“Shut up,” ground out Chanyeol.
Jongin shrugged, sobering a moment. “If you really like him, let me give you a little advice.”
Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion, but reluctantly said, “I’m listening.”
“You know what made you a player?” asked Jongin. He continued before Chanyeol could protest, “You weren’t sincere. You were a good boyfriend, on paper. You did everything by the book. Dinner, movie, flowers, cuddles. You did what was expected of you, not because you necessarily wanted to, but because you knew it would get you what you wanted. You didn’t mean any of it, not really. You were always guarded.” He sighed. “Maybe it’s time to go off-script.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Chanyeol responded, “You...are weirdly sagely sometimes.”
Jongin shrugged.
He smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, man.”
Jongin nodded, hugged him, then left him to consider his off-script options.
✮☆✮☆✮
( continued)