but when my summer days are gone
Title: but when my summer days are gone
Genre: AU, romance, angst
Pairing: Baekhyun/Kris
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kris reminisces about someone who changed his life.
A/N: Um... I don't know. KrisBaek feels.
"Keu-rithh."
"That's exactly right, you're such a smart one," Kris chuckled, reaching out to card a few fingers through the little boy's hair. "I'm sure you're going to grow up to be famous one day. Would you like that?"
Sehun nodded eagerly, grabbing onto Kris's sizable hand, minute digits wrapping around Kris's thumb. "Uh huh," a pink tongue darted out to lick chapped lips, and Sehun knitted his brows in deep thought. "If I become famous, will you come play with me again?"
Kris smiled woefully and promised Sehun that he would definitely be back as soon as the boy became famous. They agreed to meet back at the very see-saw that they were sitting on right then. The promise was sealed with hushed whispers on Sehun's end and by Kris's gracious pinky offering.
"Good-bye!" Sehun waved, sporting the widest grin that Kris had thus far seen on the boy's narrow face. "See you soon!"
And Kris smiled until he caught sight of the green, flashing LED light coming from underneath the hem of his trousers. He suddenly felt the tight, metal restraints digging into the flesh of his ankle and suppressed a shiver. He knew that someone was watching him, monitoring his every move. It was an unnerving concept, and Kris was shocked that they had even let him play with a child for so long.
Must've had a pretty good day, officer.
In Kris's mind, Sehun was a lot like someone that he used to know.
Aren't you over it by now?
As the sun set brilliantly over the grass, casting dark shadows behind buildings and setting the sky ablaze, Kris reminisced of what was and what could have been.
-
An eight year old Kris hid in the school library, leaning against a half-empty bookshelf that was nearly double his own height.
"Hey," a voice tickled Kris's ear as he sat, immersed in a fairy tale. Not that he would ever confess to reading such a book. "Heyyyyy," the tone of the voice became slightly more urgent, and Kris looked up, slightly alarmed.
"Who's there?"
He could hear a muffled giggle coming from the other side of the bookshelf that was supporting his torso. A few books fell onto the ground next to him and a small face peered out from the newly formed window. The face grinned, and Kris noticed a neat row of small teeth forming a radiant smile.
"Who are you?" Kris gave the boy a curious look, then shuffled a little to his right so that he could speak to the figure face-to-face.
"Baekhyun," the boy practically squealed. "I'm Baekhyun, and you're Kris!"
Kris fidgeted with his uniform, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, tugging on the bow tie and straightening out his lapel. "How do you know my name?" he already knew the answer, everyone knew him indirectly, but he wasn't used to small-talk. It seemed like an appropriate response.
Baekhyun squeezed a thin arm through the small opening and straightened Kris's bow tie, " Umm… I hear the teachers always talking about you. I know a lot."
"What all do you know?"
Baekhyun gave Kris a quick smile before rattling off a series of facts about Kris, and the latter couldn't help but to be impressed. "…and I know that you're eight, and I'm six. Oh! And I also know why you have a foreign name, except that isn't your real name because your real name is…"
"You talk so much," Kris commented, not caring much about offending the hyper youth. Why should he have to care about hurting others' feelings? They all thought the same of him regardless.
"My mommy says that, too," Baekhyun frowned, lower lip jutting out slightly. "…and so do my teachers. Do you like talking, Kris?"
Kris kind of wished that his new acquaintance would leave him be in the dark corner of the library so that he could finish reading the illustrated collection of fairy tales that sat open next to his leg. "Not really, I don't have anyone to talk to."
A hand reached out and brushed against Kris's cheek, and he nearly jumped in surprise.
"It's okay, you can talk to me from now on. You've got me!"
"I…I don't need you--"
"Hey, 'Kris' is a name like the kind princes have. Are you a prince? You read about them, don't you?"
Kris sputtered a bit, face flushing red at the idea of his secret being exposed by a sassy six-year-old,
"Don't be silly, princes don't really exist."
-
One day, when Kris was thirteen, he opened his door to find a smiling Baekhyun, index finger poised in mid-air directly in front of the doorbell.
"What in the name of--God, you scared me, Baek," Kris let the door swing open and braced himself against the doorframe, clutching at the fabric covering his chest. He smiled regardless, deciding that if anyone were to give him a heart attack, it probably should be Baekhyun.
Baekhyun laughed. He laughed with his mouth open, and Kris had always found that rather amusing. It guaranteed that at least a few chuckles would slip out of his own mouth, and this time was no exception. Soon, the pair were laughing about nothing in particular, and Kris had forgotten to ask Baekhyun why he was lurking outside of his house so early in the morning because they were too busy gasping for breath and tossing weak slaps at each others' arms.
"Ahem," Baekhyun suddenly stood up straight, trying to bring himself to full height. "Kris, I have an announcement."
Kris gave him a weary look and rubbed his sore arm, "Okay, go ahead."
"We're going out today."
"Don't we go out everyday?" Kris stuck a finger into Baekhyun's shoulder and pushed him backwards. "We go to school and out to eat…Oh, and remember last week when you made me go to the cosmetic store with you to buy that eyeliner? I am never doing that again. The women gave us weird looks."
He almost burst out in a second fit of laughter when he saw Baekhyun's entire face light up red as the younger scrunched up his nose indignantly.
"That was purely in the name of science."
"What kind of science is makeup used for?"
Baekhyun grabbed Kris's hand and yanked him forward, out of the doorway. "The science of my face. Let's go."
-
"You're strange."
"Compared to whom?" Kris piled some loose papers together and tapped an edge of the neat stack against his desk. He turned his head and gave Baekhyun a questioning look from his side of the room.
Baekhyun rocked back in his chair and stretched his arms out as long fingers latched onto bony elbows. "Mmm," he sighed quietly in contentment after the lengthy stretch. "You've always been strange."
Kris scratched his scalp in irritation, staring aimlessly at the jumble of letters on the laptop screen in front of him. The essay writing process wasn't going as smoothly as he had intended. "You didn't answer my question."
"Compared to other people, duh," Baekhyun sat up straight, managing to draw out a few muffled pops from his spine. His paper wasn't going too fabulously, either.
"Well, what did you expect," Kris adjusted his desk lamp, feeling the need to fidget with something, anything to release his agitation at the complete and utter lack of progress and failure that the room was stagnant with. "This paper is bullshit, Baek. How the fuck am I supposed to write twelve pages on Plato's Allegory of the Cave and how it relates to politics."
"You've only ever spent time with me ever since you were like nine, or something," Baekhyun mused on, completely ignoring Kris's groans of frustration and fervent swearing.
Kris heard rustling from the opposite side of the room along with the sound of a laptop closing with a dull tap. "Eight," he corrected absentmindedly, typing a few filler words into his essay and then attempting to add 0.01 inches to each margin. "I was eight, then. And you were six."
Baekhyun slid out of his chair and stood up, complaining about how sitting down for four hours in a row has got to be bad for the health of one's ass.
"We don't get out enough," Baekhyun whined as he slowly shuffled towards Kris's desk. "Come on, let's go out."
"I'm not done yet. So, no."
"It's taking you a thousand years. We'll be haggard old men by the time you finish." This time, Baekhyun ran a hand from the base of Kris's neck to just below his shoulder, fingers trailing lightly against the collar of his shirt. "Let's go."
"Well," Kris mashed the save button over and over again just incase and slammed his laptop shut. "Alright, but, in my defense, we're already haggard young men, anyways."
Baekhyun smiled and laughed that happy laugh that Kris adored so much as he wrapped his arms around Kris's neck, nearly strangling the older male in his embrace. "You are wonderful, Kris."
"Baek, stop, you're killing me--"
"Absolutely marvelous--"
"Seriously, I already said yes, so stop strangling--"
"Simply divine, Wu Yi Fan--"
Kris ripped free from Baekhyun's surprisingly steady grasp and fell backwards into his chair. It was at times like this when he felt an odd mixture of solace and disquiet. He sat still, inhaling deeply with Baekhyun's arms draped loosely around his torso, reveling in the warmth and uncertainty of his own existence.
Honestly, he couldn't remember what he had been like before the age of eight. Nothing existed in his memory before that day when Baekhyun had harassed him in the library. Practically every memory that Kris held ever since then involved that boy, always two years younger than himself.
He had left the book of fairy tales abandoned on the floor of the library after their first meeting. They no longer felt as real as they had merely hours prior.
Nothing was as real as Baekhyun.
Baekhyun, whose laughter was infectious, who was always chasing after Kris, who had been the only one to converse with him when he was still just a child who had been born into misfortune.
That was Baekhyun's contribution to Kris's existence, and, looking back on it, Baekhyun could quite possibly have been the entire reason that Kris was a bit "strange."
-
A couple of weeks later, Baekhyun was laughing again.
It wasn't unusual, though, and Kris knew that Baekhyun was almost always laughing. It was when he was serious that caused discord in Kris's all-too-small world.
But this time, he was laughing.
"Are you happy, Kris?"
Kris stared at Baekhyun wondering what the hell that had to do with their previous conversational topic and answered with a bland, "I suppose so."
It was almost 11pm at night and his possibly-manic-best-friend-slash-roommate had dragged him out to see the stars. There were no stars, and Baekhyun had giggled and apologized for being an idiot "because you can hardly ever see any stars in the middle of Seoul" but decided that "we can just watch the airplanes fly by."
The steps that they were sitting on were still a bit damp from the rain that had passed a little while ago, and Kris observed Baekhyun, perched on the edge of a single step, mouth pressed into a thin line. He looked thoughtful, and Kris realized that maybe his response wasn't quite the response the keen boy next to him was fishing for.
"Baek," he called out quietly, as not to draw attention from the passerby. "Baek, I think I'm happy."
Baekhyun's body sagged slightly, and it was barely noticeable. But Kris was well-trained in the art of interpreting Byun Baekhyun, and he noticed the hunched shoulders, the drooped head, the clenched fists.
"I think I'm happy," he repeated, a little louder this time.
"When are you ever happy?" Baekhyun's voice was sharp. His words, acute. He bit out each one carefully, with every intention of maiming.
"Are you happy?"
Baekhyun leaned back, supporting himself on the palms of his hands, and Kris vaguely worried about the concrete scratching his smooth skin.
"I think I could be happy. But we're dirt poor, Kris. What can two broke college students do when their parents won't even support them? I don't even know if how long I'll be able to keep paying the tuition, to be honest."
Kris wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay, as long as they had each other. Kris believed this, but it was apparent that Baekhyun didn't. Baekhyun was right. They needed money, and both of Baekhyun's parents were nowhere to be found while his own mother had abandoned him as a child after his father was arrested. Like father like son, everyone had said, refusing to take him in. "But Baek," Kris tried anyway, "We'll always have each other."
Baekhyun looked at him then, eyes reflecting the bright lights of the city, and he smiled. "Of course we have each other. Always." He reached out and laced his fingers through Kris's hand, moving closer so that their shoulders could touch.
Kris knew that he wasn't the one that was wonderful.
He was nothing more than the moon that reflected the sun's dazzling light.
Baekhyun was the sun; he gave off a warmth that radiated onto Kris's dull surface.
-
It wasn't much longer after that night that their relationship escalated at an inordinately rapid pace.
Kris thought that it was okay because their relationship was unlike any other. He remembered Baekhyun's justification of "It's a bond that's deeper than that of regular friends or even brothers."
"With you, everything is right," Kris had responded, and that had earned him a playful slap-giggle combo for being "so full of shit."
And so they lived the semester out in their tiny dorm room, and Baekhyun always insisted that they should sleep separately just before going to bed, only to come crawling between Kris's sheets a few minutes later. Unspoken words were strung out on an invisible thread, hanging above their beds.
It was their secret.
And more often than not, Baekhyun would tackle Kris, or slap him, or drag him around campus, eventually linking hands because Baekhyun liked that kind of physical contact. He was still always cheerful and smiled that beautiful smile that seemed as if it could fix every problem that they might possibly encounter.
But it couldn't.
And sometimes, they would sit on the floor in their room counting loose change that they had collected, and, on a good day, they would get one cup ramen each. On a bad day, they shared. Kris never minded sharing, and he didn't think Baekhyun did either, but he began to realize that it wasn't enough. Baekhyun had known for a long time that it wouldn't be enough, but Kris had remained oblivious until Baekhyun's nightly visits to his bed became more and more frequent as if the intimacy that they shared could fill his stomach and clothe his body.
And then, there were the kisses, frantic and messy. It was all teeth and tongue and swollen lips that set their bodies on fire.
Baekhyun consumed kisses like grains of rice.
-
Kris was nineteen when he last saw Baekhyun.
It was November 7, just a day after his birthday, and Baekhyun had clung to his clothes, knees dragging weakly against the concrete, crying, bleeding, begging him not to do this.
"I have to," Kris said, holding onto Baekhyun's arm with equal desperation. "I have to do this."
"Don't go," Baekhyun insisted, voice hoarse. "This isn't right... We don't need this."
And Kris couldn't believe the words coming out of Baekhyun's mouth because they did need this. Anyone could see that their state of affairs was nearly beyond repair. Anyone could see Baekhyun's bloody knees scraping against the sidewalk through the holes in his worn-out jeans.
"It's going to be fine." Kris bent down to whisper into Baekhyun's ear, "You can trust me. I'll be right back, and then we can go to Japan like you always wanted. Let me go, Baek." He ran his thumb across Baekhyun's cheek, wiping away hysteric tears, and pressed his warm lips against Baekhyun's trembling ones.
Tears pooled in Baekhyun's eyes as they kissed, streaming down his face with every blink, leaving salty trails.
After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled away.
"Kris," he breathed softly against Kris's neck. "If you go now, you'll have nothing to come back to."
"We have nothing now. I don't need anything but you and your happiness."
Kris stood up, leaving Baekhyun sprawled out on the sidewalk, face swollen and knees bleeding into the concrete. He thought that it was heartbreaking, seeing Baekhyun like this.
"It's because I love you, you know," Kris confessed just before climbing into the taxi.
Baekhyun pulled his knees up towards his face and sat on the concrete, too exhausted to get up.
"If you love me, you won't go."
The door slammed shut, and the taxi sped away.
-
"Burglary, huh? So you're a thief. If I'm going to be completely honest here, it was by pure chance that an officer was in the building at the time."
Kris stared passively at the metal handcuffs linking his wrists together. They were shiny, reflective, and he didn't like the sound that the chains made when they were moved. He focused all of his attention on keeping his hands as still as possible.
"I'm thinking it'll be about three years before you can apply for parole."
The room was stark white like a hospital or an asylum. White was not a peaceful, calm color. It disrupted his zen. It was odd not having Baekhyun around talking or touching. The officer was porky and long-winded.
"So, kid. Why'd you do it?"
Kris looked at the officer's scuffed shoes, his wrinkled shirt, the worn watch on his wrist that gave off a dull gleam. Kris looked everywhere but at his face.
"What's a young man like you doing going around and robbing stores?"
-
As Kris walked down the street, he thought about Sehun. Little Sehun with the lisp, the narrow face, the heavily lidded eyes.
And then he thought about Baekhyun. His Baekhyun, who had only been seventeen and in college. Baekhyun with the most beautiful laugh that he had ever encountered.
He wondered, as he rounded the corner, eyeing the parole officer who was sitting in a black sedan with darkly-tinted windows, if Baekhyun had already grown up. Kris had learned to live without him out of necessity, but Baekhyun had left by choice.
It was impossible that either of them could have remained children.
And as he shuffled along the deserted road, towards the sunset, he realized that Baekhyun had matured already, all those years ago, and it was Kris that had been a child.
Genre: AU, romance, angst
Pairing: Baekhyun/Kris
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kris reminisces about someone who changed his life.
A/N: Um... I don't know. KrisBaek feels.
"Keu-rithh."
"That's exactly right, you're such a smart one," Kris chuckled, reaching out to card a few fingers through the little boy's hair. "I'm sure you're going to grow up to be famous one day. Would you like that?"
Sehun nodded eagerly, grabbing onto Kris's sizable hand, minute digits wrapping around Kris's thumb. "Uh huh," a pink tongue darted out to lick chapped lips, and Sehun knitted his brows in deep thought. "If I become famous, will you come play with me again?"
Kris smiled woefully and promised Sehun that he would definitely be back as soon as the boy became famous. They agreed to meet back at the very see-saw that they were sitting on right then. The promise was sealed with hushed whispers on Sehun's end and by Kris's gracious pinky offering.
"Good-bye!" Sehun waved, sporting the widest grin that Kris had thus far seen on the boy's narrow face. "See you soon!"
And Kris smiled until he caught sight of the green, flashing LED light coming from underneath the hem of his trousers. He suddenly felt the tight, metal restraints digging into the flesh of his ankle and suppressed a shiver. He knew that someone was watching him, monitoring his every move. It was an unnerving concept, and Kris was shocked that they had even let him play with a child for so long.
Must've had a pretty good day, officer.
In Kris's mind, Sehun was a lot like someone that he used to know.
Aren't you over it by now?
As the sun set brilliantly over the grass, casting dark shadows behind buildings and setting the sky ablaze, Kris reminisced of what was and what could have been.
-
An eight year old Kris hid in the school library, leaning against a half-empty bookshelf that was nearly double his own height.
"Hey," a voice tickled Kris's ear as he sat, immersed in a fairy tale. Not that he would ever confess to reading such a book. "Heyyyyy," the tone of the voice became slightly more urgent, and Kris looked up, slightly alarmed.
"Who's there?"
He could hear a muffled giggle coming from the other side of the bookshelf that was supporting his torso. A few books fell onto the ground next to him and a small face peered out from the newly formed window. The face grinned, and Kris noticed a neat row of small teeth forming a radiant smile.
"Who are you?" Kris gave the boy a curious look, then shuffled a little to his right so that he could speak to the figure face-to-face.
"Baekhyun," the boy practically squealed. "I'm Baekhyun, and you're Kris!"
Kris fidgeted with his uniform, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, tugging on the bow tie and straightening out his lapel. "How do you know my name?" he already knew the answer, everyone knew him indirectly, but he wasn't used to small-talk. It seemed like an appropriate response.
Baekhyun squeezed a thin arm through the small opening and straightened Kris's bow tie, " Umm… I hear the teachers always talking about you. I know a lot."
"What all do you know?"
Baekhyun gave Kris a quick smile before rattling off a series of facts about Kris, and the latter couldn't help but to be impressed. "…and I know that you're eight, and I'm six. Oh! And I also know why you have a foreign name, except that isn't your real name because your real name is…"
"You talk so much," Kris commented, not caring much about offending the hyper youth. Why should he have to care about hurting others' feelings? They all thought the same of him regardless.
"My mommy says that, too," Baekhyun frowned, lower lip jutting out slightly. "…and so do my teachers. Do you like talking, Kris?"
Kris kind of wished that his new acquaintance would leave him be in the dark corner of the library so that he could finish reading the illustrated collection of fairy tales that sat open next to his leg. "Not really, I don't have anyone to talk to."
A hand reached out and brushed against Kris's cheek, and he nearly jumped in surprise.
"It's okay, you can talk to me from now on. You've got me!"
"I…I don't need you--"
"Hey, 'Kris' is a name like the kind princes have. Are you a prince? You read about them, don't you?"
Kris sputtered a bit, face flushing red at the idea of his secret being exposed by a sassy six-year-old,
"Don't be silly, princes don't really exist."
-
One day, when Kris was thirteen, he opened his door to find a smiling Baekhyun, index finger poised in mid-air directly in front of the doorbell.
"What in the name of--God, you scared me, Baek," Kris let the door swing open and braced himself against the doorframe, clutching at the fabric covering his chest. He smiled regardless, deciding that if anyone were to give him a heart attack, it probably should be Baekhyun.
Baekhyun laughed. He laughed with his mouth open, and Kris had always found that rather amusing. It guaranteed that at least a few chuckles would slip out of his own mouth, and this time was no exception. Soon, the pair were laughing about nothing in particular, and Kris had forgotten to ask Baekhyun why he was lurking outside of his house so early in the morning because they were too busy gasping for breath and tossing weak slaps at each others' arms.
"Ahem," Baekhyun suddenly stood up straight, trying to bring himself to full height. "Kris, I have an announcement."
Kris gave him a weary look and rubbed his sore arm, "Okay, go ahead."
"We're going out today."
"Don't we go out everyday?" Kris stuck a finger into Baekhyun's shoulder and pushed him backwards. "We go to school and out to eat…Oh, and remember last week when you made me go to the cosmetic store with you to buy that eyeliner? I am never doing that again. The women gave us weird looks."
He almost burst out in a second fit of laughter when he saw Baekhyun's entire face light up red as the younger scrunched up his nose indignantly.
"That was purely in the name of science."
"What kind of science is makeup used for?"
Baekhyun grabbed Kris's hand and yanked him forward, out of the doorway. "The science of my face. Let's go."
-
"You're strange."
"Compared to whom?" Kris piled some loose papers together and tapped an edge of the neat stack against his desk. He turned his head and gave Baekhyun a questioning look from his side of the room.
Baekhyun rocked back in his chair and stretched his arms out as long fingers latched onto bony elbows. "Mmm," he sighed quietly in contentment after the lengthy stretch. "You've always been strange."
Kris scratched his scalp in irritation, staring aimlessly at the jumble of letters on the laptop screen in front of him. The essay writing process wasn't going as smoothly as he had intended. "You didn't answer my question."
"Compared to other people, duh," Baekhyun sat up straight, managing to draw out a few muffled pops from his spine. His paper wasn't going too fabulously, either.
"Well, what did you expect," Kris adjusted his desk lamp, feeling the need to fidget with something, anything to release his agitation at the complete and utter lack of progress and failure that the room was stagnant with. "This paper is bullshit, Baek. How the fuck am I supposed to write twelve pages on Plato's Allegory of the Cave and how it relates to politics."
"You've only ever spent time with me ever since you were like nine, or something," Baekhyun mused on, completely ignoring Kris's groans of frustration and fervent swearing.
Kris heard rustling from the opposite side of the room along with the sound of a laptop closing with a dull tap. "Eight," he corrected absentmindedly, typing a few filler words into his essay and then attempting to add 0.01 inches to each margin. "I was eight, then. And you were six."
Baekhyun slid out of his chair and stood up, complaining about how sitting down for four hours in a row has got to be bad for the health of one's ass.
"We don't get out enough," Baekhyun whined as he slowly shuffled towards Kris's desk. "Come on, let's go out."
"I'm not done yet. So, no."
"It's taking you a thousand years. We'll be haggard old men by the time you finish." This time, Baekhyun ran a hand from the base of Kris's neck to just below his shoulder, fingers trailing lightly against the collar of his shirt. "Let's go."
"Well," Kris mashed the save button over and over again just incase and slammed his laptop shut. "Alright, but, in my defense, we're already haggard young men, anyways."
Baekhyun smiled and laughed that happy laugh that Kris adored so much as he wrapped his arms around Kris's neck, nearly strangling the older male in his embrace. "You are wonderful, Kris."
"Baek, stop, you're killing me--"
"Absolutely marvelous--"
"Seriously, I already said yes, so stop strangling--"
"Simply divine, Wu Yi Fan--"
Kris ripped free from Baekhyun's surprisingly steady grasp and fell backwards into his chair. It was at times like this when he felt an odd mixture of solace and disquiet. He sat still, inhaling deeply with Baekhyun's arms draped loosely around his torso, reveling in the warmth and uncertainty of his own existence.
Honestly, he couldn't remember what he had been like before the age of eight. Nothing existed in his memory before that day when Baekhyun had harassed him in the library. Practically every memory that Kris held ever since then involved that boy, always two years younger than himself.
He had left the book of fairy tales abandoned on the floor of the library after their first meeting. They no longer felt as real as they had merely hours prior.
Nothing was as real as Baekhyun.
Baekhyun, whose laughter was infectious, who was always chasing after Kris, who had been the only one to converse with him when he was still just a child who had been born into misfortune.
That was Baekhyun's contribution to Kris's existence, and, looking back on it, Baekhyun could quite possibly have been the entire reason that Kris was a bit "strange."
-
A couple of weeks later, Baekhyun was laughing again.
It wasn't unusual, though, and Kris knew that Baekhyun was almost always laughing. It was when he was serious that caused discord in Kris's all-too-small world.
But this time, he was laughing.
"Are you happy, Kris?"
Kris stared at Baekhyun wondering what the hell that had to do with their previous conversational topic and answered with a bland, "I suppose so."
It was almost 11pm at night and his possibly-manic-best-friend-slash-roommate had dragged him out to see the stars. There were no stars, and Baekhyun had giggled and apologized for being an idiot "because you can hardly ever see any stars in the middle of Seoul" but decided that "we can just watch the airplanes fly by."
The steps that they were sitting on were still a bit damp from the rain that had passed a little while ago, and Kris observed Baekhyun, perched on the edge of a single step, mouth pressed into a thin line. He looked thoughtful, and Kris realized that maybe his response wasn't quite the response the keen boy next to him was fishing for.
"Baek," he called out quietly, as not to draw attention from the passerby. "Baek, I think I'm happy."
Baekhyun's body sagged slightly, and it was barely noticeable. But Kris was well-trained in the art of interpreting Byun Baekhyun, and he noticed the hunched shoulders, the drooped head, the clenched fists.
"I think I'm happy," he repeated, a little louder this time.
"When are you ever happy?" Baekhyun's voice was sharp. His words, acute. He bit out each one carefully, with every intention of maiming.
"Are you happy?"
Baekhyun leaned back, supporting himself on the palms of his hands, and Kris vaguely worried about the concrete scratching his smooth skin.
"I think I could be happy. But we're dirt poor, Kris. What can two broke college students do when their parents won't even support them? I don't even know if how long I'll be able to keep paying the tuition, to be honest."
Kris wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay, as long as they had each other. Kris believed this, but it was apparent that Baekhyun didn't. Baekhyun was right. They needed money, and both of Baekhyun's parents were nowhere to be found while his own mother had abandoned him as a child after his father was arrested. Like father like son, everyone had said, refusing to take him in. "But Baek," Kris tried anyway, "We'll always have each other."
Baekhyun looked at him then, eyes reflecting the bright lights of the city, and he smiled. "Of course we have each other. Always." He reached out and laced his fingers through Kris's hand, moving closer so that their shoulders could touch.
Kris knew that he wasn't the one that was wonderful.
He was nothing more than the moon that reflected the sun's dazzling light.
Baekhyun was the sun; he gave off a warmth that radiated onto Kris's dull surface.
-
It wasn't much longer after that night that their relationship escalated at an inordinately rapid pace.
Kris thought that it was okay because their relationship was unlike any other. He remembered Baekhyun's justification of "It's a bond that's deeper than that of regular friends or even brothers."
"With you, everything is right," Kris had responded, and that had earned him a playful slap-giggle combo for being "so full of shit."
And so they lived the semester out in their tiny dorm room, and Baekhyun always insisted that they should sleep separately just before going to bed, only to come crawling between Kris's sheets a few minutes later. Unspoken words were strung out on an invisible thread, hanging above their beds.
It was their secret.
And more often than not, Baekhyun would tackle Kris, or slap him, or drag him around campus, eventually linking hands because Baekhyun liked that kind of physical contact. He was still always cheerful and smiled that beautiful smile that seemed as if it could fix every problem that they might possibly encounter.
But it couldn't.
And sometimes, they would sit on the floor in their room counting loose change that they had collected, and, on a good day, they would get one cup ramen each. On a bad day, they shared. Kris never minded sharing, and he didn't think Baekhyun did either, but he began to realize that it wasn't enough. Baekhyun had known for a long time that it wouldn't be enough, but Kris had remained oblivious until Baekhyun's nightly visits to his bed became more and more frequent as if the intimacy that they shared could fill his stomach and clothe his body.
And then, there were the kisses, frantic and messy. It was all teeth and tongue and swollen lips that set their bodies on fire.
Baekhyun consumed kisses like grains of rice.
-
Kris was nineteen when he last saw Baekhyun.
It was November 7, just a day after his birthday, and Baekhyun had clung to his clothes, knees dragging weakly against the concrete, crying, bleeding, begging him not to do this.
"I have to," Kris said, holding onto Baekhyun's arm with equal desperation. "I have to do this."
"Don't go," Baekhyun insisted, voice hoarse. "This isn't right... We don't need this."
And Kris couldn't believe the words coming out of Baekhyun's mouth because they did need this. Anyone could see that their state of affairs was nearly beyond repair. Anyone could see Baekhyun's bloody knees scraping against the sidewalk through the holes in his worn-out jeans.
"It's going to be fine." Kris bent down to whisper into Baekhyun's ear, "You can trust me. I'll be right back, and then we can go to Japan like you always wanted. Let me go, Baek." He ran his thumb across Baekhyun's cheek, wiping away hysteric tears, and pressed his warm lips against Baekhyun's trembling ones.
Tears pooled in Baekhyun's eyes as they kissed, streaming down his face with every blink, leaving salty trails.
After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled away.
"Kris," he breathed softly against Kris's neck. "If you go now, you'll have nothing to come back to."
"We have nothing now. I don't need anything but you and your happiness."
Kris stood up, leaving Baekhyun sprawled out on the sidewalk, face swollen and knees bleeding into the concrete. He thought that it was heartbreaking, seeing Baekhyun like this.
"It's because I love you, you know," Kris confessed just before climbing into the taxi.
Baekhyun pulled his knees up towards his face and sat on the concrete, too exhausted to get up.
"If you love me, you won't go."
The door slammed shut, and the taxi sped away.
-
"Burglary, huh? So you're a thief. If I'm going to be completely honest here, it was by pure chance that an officer was in the building at the time."
Kris stared passively at the metal handcuffs linking his wrists together. They were shiny, reflective, and he didn't like the sound that the chains made when they were moved. He focused all of his attention on keeping his hands as still as possible.
"I'm thinking it'll be about three years before you can apply for parole."
The room was stark white like a hospital or an asylum. White was not a peaceful, calm color. It disrupted his zen. It was odd not having Baekhyun around talking or touching. The officer was porky and long-winded.
"So, kid. Why'd you do it?"
Kris looked at the officer's scuffed shoes, his wrinkled shirt, the worn watch on his wrist that gave off a dull gleam. Kris looked everywhere but at his face.
"What's a young man like you doing going around and robbing stores?"
-
As Kris walked down the street, he thought about Sehun. Little Sehun with the lisp, the narrow face, the heavily lidded eyes.
And then he thought about Baekhyun. His Baekhyun, who had only been seventeen and in college. Baekhyun with the most beautiful laugh that he had ever encountered.
He wondered, as he rounded the corner, eyeing the parole officer who was sitting in a black sedan with darkly-tinted windows, if Baekhyun had already grown up. Kris had learned to live without him out of necessity, but Baekhyun had left by choice.
It was impossible that either of them could have remained children.
And as he shuffled along the deserted road, towards the sunset, he realized that Baekhyun had matured already, all those years ago, and it was Kris that had been a child.