having part of no one like you (standalone)
kris/chanyeol | PG-13 | mention of sex with subtle hint(s) of heavy angst | 1, 347 words
wufan has always been fascinated by women who are tying knots of their beautiful hair; those skinny elbows jutting out, the way they run their slender and manicured fingers around their small heads and how they gather every single strands to make a sometimes messy sometimes neat bun-everything.
except that this time it’s not a woman at all.
wufan meets him on a rainy saturday. he also leaves for good on the same day, almost a year from now, but of course wufan doesn’t know it yet because right at this moment his world seems to be stopped spinning.
and that’s what matter the most.
he is frozen to his spot, the last in queueing line of a very crowded starbucks near his apartment complex, and because he doesn’t make any sound the ma-boy-who causes him to freeze in the first place turns around and successfully spills his mint hot chocolate all over wufan’s tailored dark grey suit.
god, is what in wufan’s mind witnessing the boy’s big brown orbs widening in shock, then,
“pardon me, i didn’t move out of your way,” and the boy’s immediate reply-voice-kills wufan.
“i should be the one apologizing!” the boy grimaces. “i will pay for the laundry fee, i’m so sorry!” they shift to the side, knowing that a couple of new customers are coming. wufan holds the boy’s wrist as the boy rummages through his trendy postman bag.
“it’s okay, really,” wufan says, whisper-like, somehow doesn’t want everyone else to see that he’s talking to a very gorgeous person. “can i buy another cup for you?” he offers, telling himself that he’s not savoring the thin bone underneath his fingers.
the boy frowns.
“it’s not a code, i swear,” wufan rubs his nape sheepishly with his previously occupied hand. it smells like apricot and other sweet stuffs. “i’m so sorry if it came out wrong,” he is pushing his luck, but the boy’s embarrassed face is totally worth it.
after a few awkward, staring contest in silence, the boy speaks with a softer tone, “okay,” and then he smiles while wufan dies a little bit more. “with a chocolate muffin, pretty please?”
wufan almost says, anything, but he’s in a very vulnerable state; which anyone can tell that he is falling because it isn’t easy for kris wufan to fall-and when he does, all of his being practically screams yes, i am in love.
so he settles for a simple introduction, and the boy becomes park chanyeol now, the one and only.
▲ ▼
they heat up wufan’s king sized bed on their fifth meeting (date?), with chanyeol’s hair spreading on wufan’s satin dark grey sheet and his lighter skin glistening with salty sweats and the redness of his swollen lips are, as always, killing wufan who can’t say no when chanyeol, still panting after their very first orgasms together, climbs his crotch and slides back in with one smooth movement and soon rides wufan like a pro.
wufan comes, declaring his love while spurting his seed deep inside, and chanyeol shudders on top of him, kisses him with a laugh.
the next day, chanyeol is gone, not even his apricot-ness can be found on wufan’s clothes or pillows; no matter how hard our protagonist try to inhale everything.
nothing.
▲ ▼
it’s in a train heading to incheon because wufan has to catch a flight for a business meeting in japan where chanyeol finally appears, about two months later, with apricot air and nape length hair.
chanyeol doesn’t smile when their eyes meet, but still wufan is in love.
“annyeonghaseyo,” chanyeol says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to see him talking to wufan. but still.
“chanyeol-ah,” wufan lets the name grace his tongue, “how-” have you been?-but that will be lame. so, “where are you going?”
“anywhere,” chanyeol shrugs, tightening his grip on the ring holder.
wufan, at this point, can’t afford to lose chanyeol anymore-he, as yixing his best friend affectionately mocks him, present tense, is blinded because he asks (pleads?) if chanyeol wants to go to japan with him.
chanyeol doesn’t exactly say yes, but he’s not refusing either, and wufan is hopeful for the rest of the ride, openly staring at chanyeol and doesn’t care that his ear splitting smile crumbles his supposedly composed adult aura when chanyeol entwines their fingers together and boards the plane.
they end up staying in japan for a week, because chanyeol has never been outside south korea before and wufan can never say no for everything that is park chanyeol related, including witnessing the younger boy’s breathtaking smile again (and hopefully, forever).
on their last day in hokkaido, chanyeol knocks on wufan’s hotel room and kisses him silly on the hallway, then he apologizes but says nothing more as he unbuckles wufan’s jeans and gets to his knees; swallowing wufan whole in one go, moaning wufan’s name like a prayer when he spreads his legs, eyes glossing and wufan is nothing but a fool man in love that he forgets it is the godforsaken l word which had scared chanyeol away.
this time, chanyeol stays, snuggling to wufan’s chest. during the short plane ride, wufan holds chanyeol’s hand. when they’re in the train chanyeol hooks his arm on wufan’s and follows wufan home.
he apologizes again, typing his new number to wufan’s mobile, and wearing wufan’s old and frayed t-shirts for the next three days until he remembers he has classes, leaving with the most stunning smile so far.
▲ ▼
chanyeol moves in one friday evening, bringing boxes full with colorful clothes and a guitar which he plays whenever wufan has exceptionally tiring days.
his favorite song is about she who had the world, who could get anything she wanted but his love. he himself doesn’t love her because of some unexplainable reason from the lyric. he doesn’t see anything else but the sky when he look into her eyes anyway.
wufan goes to google and no, it’s not like that, chanyeol-ah, look at me and tell me if you only see the sky. i could love you, jesus christ, i worship you.
chanyeol stops playing the day wufan hums along.
▲ ▼
it’s chanyeol’s twentieth birthday and because he can’t take such expensive present he tells wufan to return it back.
(he gave wufan a signed stereophonics’ language, sex, violence, other? CD which is also not cheap, purchased from the internet, so why?).
▲ ▼
when wufan asks for a break, chanyeol throws his mobile at wufan and leaves for weeks.
at that time, wufan barely sleeps. he tries to call the names on chanyeol’s contact list-thirty three people-but none of them know chanyeol’s whereabout.
when he shows up, wufan has stopped counting the days, and he’s too worn out to comment on chanyeol’s newest haircut; he is still the most beautiful nevertheless with boyish, side fringe style.
“why do you love me?” chanyeol asks as wufan massages his ever so skinny legs, almost inaudibly as if he doesn’t really really want wufan to hear him.
wufan is about to answer but chanyeol interrupts coldly, “it’s not enough if you’re going to say that you just do,” he folds his flawless legs, “hm?”
wufan leans to kiss him, but chanyeol turns his head.
“why don’t you love me?”
“who said i don’t?”
▲ ▼
on a rainy saturday with his shoulder length hair sometimes falling to his face as he packs up his colorful belongings, chanyeol decides he doesn’t want to hurt wufan anymore.
wufan doesn’t protest, at all, doesn’t even try to correct chanyeol’s piercing excuse (it’s fine, i understand i can’t force anything, but please stay?) that maybe causing chanyeol to feel scandalized for a split second because.
because what?
“will you do me a favor?” wufan says from where he sits on the bed. chanyeol waits.
wufan fishes out his mobile, activating the video mode. he presses record, zooming in on chanyeol’s watering eyes.
“can you turn around and tie your hair?”
t h e e n d
wufan has always been fascinated by women who are tying knots of their beautiful hair; those skinny elbows jutting out, the way they run their slender and manicured fingers around their small heads and how they gather every single strands to make a sometimes messy sometimes neat bun-everything.
except that this time it’s not a woman at all.
wufan meets him on a rainy saturday. he also leaves for good on the same day, almost a year from now, but of course wufan doesn’t know it yet because right at this moment his world seems to be stopped spinning.
and that’s what matter the most.
he is frozen to his spot, the last in queueing line of a very crowded starbucks near his apartment complex, and because he doesn’t make any sound the ma-boy-who causes him to freeze in the first place turns around and successfully spills his mint hot chocolate all over wufan’s tailored dark grey suit.
god, is what in wufan’s mind witnessing the boy’s big brown orbs widening in shock, then,
“pardon me, i didn’t move out of your way,” and the boy’s immediate reply-voice-kills wufan.
“i should be the one apologizing!” the boy grimaces. “i will pay for the laundry fee, i’m so sorry!” they shift to the side, knowing that a couple of new customers are coming. wufan holds the boy’s wrist as the boy rummages through his trendy postman bag.
“it’s okay, really,” wufan says, whisper-like, somehow doesn’t want everyone else to see that he’s talking to a very gorgeous person. “can i buy another cup for you?” he offers, telling himself that he’s not savoring the thin bone underneath his fingers.
the boy frowns.
“it’s not a code, i swear,” wufan rubs his nape sheepishly with his previously occupied hand. it smells like apricot and other sweet stuffs. “i’m so sorry if it came out wrong,” he is pushing his luck, but the boy’s embarrassed face is totally worth it.
after a few awkward, staring contest in silence, the boy speaks with a softer tone, “okay,” and then he smiles while wufan dies a little bit more. “with a chocolate muffin, pretty please?”
wufan almost says, anything, but he’s in a very vulnerable state; which anyone can tell that he is falling because it isn’t easy for kris wufan to fall-and when he does, all of his being practically screams yes, i am in love.
so he settles for a simple introduction, and the boy becomes park chanyeol now, the one and only.
▲ ▼
they heat up wufan’s king sized bed on their fifth meeting (date?), with chanyeol’s hair spreading on wufan’s satin dark grey sheet and his lighter skin glistening with salty sweats and the redness of his swollen lips are, as always, killing wufan who can’t say no when chanyeol, still panting after their very first orgasms together, climbs his crotch and slides back in with one smooth movement and soon rides wufan like a pro.
wufan comes, declaring his love while spurting his seed deep inside, and chanyeol shudders on top of him, kisses him with a laugh.
the next day, chanyeol is gone, not even his apricot-ness can be found on wufan’s clothes or pillows; no matter how hard our protagonist try to inhale everything.
nothing.
▲ ▼
it’s in a train heading to incheon because wufan has to catch a flight for a business meeting in japan where chanyeol finally appears, about two months later, with apricot air and nape length hair.
chanyeol doesn’t smile when their eyes meet, but still wufan is in love.
“annyeonghaseyo,” chanyeol says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to see him talking to wufan. but still.
“chanyeol-ah,” wufan lets the name grace his tongue, “how-” have you been?-but that will be lame. so, “where are you going?”
“anywhere,” chanyeol shrugs, tightening his grip on the ring holder.
wufan, at this point, can’t afford to lose chanyeol anymore-he, as yixing his best friend affectionately mocks him, present tense, is blinded because he asks (pleads?) if chanyeol wants to go to japan with him.
chanyeol doesn’t exactly say yes, but he’s not refusing either, and wufan is hopeful for the rest of the ride, openly staring at chanyeol and doesn’t care that his ear splitting smile crumbles his supposedly composed adult aura when chanyeol entwines their fingers together and boards the plane.
they end up staying in japan for a week, because chanyeol has never been outside south korea before and wufan can never say no for everything that is park chanyeol related, including witnessing the younger boy’s breathtaking smile again (and hopefully, forever).
on their last day in hokkaido, chanyeol knocks on wufan’s hotel room and kisses him silly on the hallway, then he apologizes but says nothing more as he unbuckles wufan’s jeans and gets to his knees; swallowing wufan whole in one go, moaning wufan’s name like a prayer when he spreads his legs, eyes glossing and wufan is nothing but a fool man in love that he forgets it is the godforsaken l word which had scared chanyeol away.
this time, chanyeol stays, snuggling to wufan’s chest. during the short plane ride, wufan holds chanyeol’s hand. when they’re in the train chanyeol hooks his arm on wufan’s and follows wufan home.
he apologizes again, typing his new number to wufan’s mobile, and wearing wufan’s old and frayed t-shirts for the next three days until he remembers he has classes, leaving with the most stunning smile so far.
▲ ▼
chanyeol moves in one friday evening, bringing boxes full with colorful clothes and a guitar which he plays whenever wufan has exceptionally tiring days.
his favorite song is about she who had the world, who could get anything she wanted but his love. he himself doesn’t love her because of some unexplainable reason from the lyric. he doesn’t see anything else but the sky when he look into her eyes anyway.
wufan goes to google and no, it’s not like that, chanyeol-ah, look at me and tell me if you only see the sky. i could love you, jesus christ, i worship you.
chanyeol stops playing the day wufan hums along.
▲ ▼
it’s chanyeol’s twentieth birthday and because he can’t take such expensive present he tells wufan to return it back.
(he gave wufan a signed stereophonics’ language, sex, violence, other? CD which is also not cheap, purchased from the internet, so why?).
▲ ▼
when wufan asks for a break, chanyeol throws his mobile at wufan and leaves for weeks.
at that time, wufan barely sleeps. he tries to call the names on chanyeol’s contact list-thirty three people-but none of them know chanyeol’s whereabout.
when he shows up, wufan has stopped counting the days, and he’s too worn out to comment on chanyeol’s newest haircut; he is still the most beautiful nevertheless with boyish, side fringe style.
“why do you love me?” chanyeol asks as wufan massages his ever so skinny legs, almost inaudibly as if he doesn’t really really want wufan to hear him.
wufan is about to answer but chanyeol interrupts coldly, “it’s not enough if you’re going to say that you just do,” he folds his flawless legs, “hm?”
wufan leans to kiss him, but chanyeol turns his head.
“why don’t you love me?”
“who said i don’t?”
▲ ▼
on a rainy saturday with his shoulder length hair sometimes falling to his face as he packs up his colorful belongings, chanyeol decides he doesn’t want to hurt wufan anymore.
wufan doesn’t protest, at all, doesn’t even try to correct chanyeol’s piercing excuse (it’s fine, i understand i can’t force anything, but please stay?) that maybe causing chanyeol to feel scandalized for a split second because.
because what?
“will you do me a favor?” wufan says from where he sits on the bed. chanyeol waits.
wufan fishes out his mobile, activating the video mode. he presses record, zooming in on chanyeol’s watering eyes.
“can you turn around and tie your hair?”
t h e e n d