you say your lines and i’ll say mine
Title: you say your lines and i'll say mine
Author: Anonymous until 1/30/14
For: aurics
Pairing: Baekhyun/Kai [side: Luhan/Suho]
Word Count: 5,164
Summary: Baekhyun and his friends are making a movie of their own to kill time during the summer. It's a lot of work, especially when Baekhyun is acting alongside his biggest crush ever and the camera keeps rolling in their faces.
Warnings: None
Rating: G
One
A wide shot. A yellow mid-July day. Conversations are muffled and the camera is lowered to record shoes walking on the pavement. Someone runs ahead. The camera shakes, the cameraman not knowing if he wants to raise the camera or otherwise. The pavement meets grass. Someone is singing Girl’s Generation’s Gee, slightly out of tune.
The camera is focused on the back of Chanyeol’s head before Jongdae enters the frame. Jongdae pushes Chanyeol aside to knock on the door. The door opens for the camera to focus on Kyungsoo’s uncombed hair and the scowl
Kyungsoo turns around and the camera pans out behind him.
“Can you stop filming my ass?” Kyungsoo called out. Baekhyun sniggered before passing the camera back to Jongdae, who took to fiddling with it until they reach the kitchen.
As expected, Chanyeol headed straight for the fridge, rummaging about for half-eaten sandwiches and carefully packed cut fruits to reach for the cans of soda Kyungsoo never drank. “I can’t believe you don’t like drinking this,” he mumbled.
“Too much sugar,” Kyungsoo said.
“Sugar is good for you,” Chanyeol argued. “Glycolic acid maintains your skin by eliminating blemishes and restoring the balance in the skin’s oils.”
“I said ‘too much sugar’, idiot,” Kyungsoo replied, “And you’re leaving out all the health risks.” For someone who was well on his way in getting all As for their classes, Chanyeol lacked a specific type of intelligence Kyungsoo felt that most people ought to have.
“Never mind. Keep drinking.” He turned to face Jongdae, who was already ripping open the last packet of dried fruits, and for the umpteenth time, cursed the day he was placed in the same class as the rest of them.
“Junmyeon hyung is coming later,” Sehun supplied, finally looking up from his phone. “He said he’s bringing someone with him.”
“Yixing?” Jongdae said with his mouth full and earns himself a look of disgust from Kyungsoo.
“Should be.”
“Right o!” Abandoning the packet of diabetic-causing goodies, Jongdae clapped his hands together to call for attention. Chanyeol, in his haste to get his head out of the fridge, let out a yelp when he knocked his head against the corner of the fridge door. There was no doubt Kyungsoo would crack his head open if he had broken any of the eggs lining the top row.
“Let’s get started without them,” Jongdae continued, conveniently ignoring Chanyeol’s little accident. “Shoot ideas at me.”
Almost instantly, Chanyeol had his hand raised, looking all too excited. “Anything works, right?”
Jongdae looked to Kyungsoo apprehensively, mouthing Shoot me.
“Zombies!”
Kyungsoo sighed. “We don’t have the budget for that.”
“Vampires!”
“Again, we don’t have the budget for that.”
“Werewolves!”
“Actually, we don’t have a budget at all,” Kyungsoo hissed, looking up from his notepad to glare at Chanyeol, “Now can you please refrain from suggesting anything?”
Chanyeol didn’t seem to want to oblige, “I was called in for a discussion. We’re supposed to discuss!”
“Which means no stupid ideas,” Kyungsoo muttered, leaning away so he was facing Baekhyun instead of Chanyeol. “I was thinking slice of life,” he told Baekhyun, who nodded because that seemed more plausible with their budget (or lack thereof). “Something about friendship, self-discovery, something light-hearted but at times, sad, or serious, contemplative.”
“That’s not a movie,” Chanyeol interrupted, “That’s a documentary.”
“Shut up,” Kyungsoo said irritably, “Wasn’t talking to you.”
And that was how Chanyeol ended up calling his sister to cry about being bullied by Kyungsoo.
÷
In the end, Jongdae and Kyungsoo took rein of the discussion (and Baekhyun had to bribe Chanyeol with chips while Sehun blogged about Chanyeol being a crybaby on myfriendsarestupid.com). They were going along the lines of an coming-of-age film and everyone was casted, in one way or another, because Jongdae wanted the film to be one without script. It was, according to him, going to be demonstrative and raw. The project meant a lot to him, they all knew this, but he wanted it to be something genuine, an expression of his love for the arts as well as an honest documentation of their last summer in this city.
“You’re going to help promote the film on your blog,” Jongdae ordered, Sehun nodded. He had no choice, what with Kyungsoo having him in a headlock and all. Baekhyun had his phone out, ready to call for an ambulance, and all Chanyeol did was to finish another can of soda.
"We can ask Junmyeon hyung to find us some people who'll be interested in this," Kyungsoo added.
"Do you know anyone aside from us who'll say yes?" Baekhyun asked, still bitter he wasn't allowed to refuse when Jongdae had asked for a 'small' favor. Now that he knew what it was that Jongdae had had in mind, he was more adverse to the idea. He didn't want to disappoint any of then, however, and the only way to do so was to give it his best possible acting.
"Drama club?"
"Not them," Sehun wheezed. Lucky for him, Kyungsoo recognized the request and quietly, he let go of their youngest. "They're so. Troublesome."
Personal experiences and the schools rumor had lots to say about the drama kids. They were very, to put it simply, dramatic. Not that the same could be said about drama kids elsewhere, but the drama club had really bad discipline once they were off the stage and frankly, it wasn't something the group fancied to have in the midst of a filming that was meant to be lighthearted and fun.
"That's an understatement," Jongdae agreed, laughing. Other than Sehun, who always acted as if he was a prickly porcupine around strangers, the rest of them had made decent friends in all social circles, drama club included. That, however, couldn't speak for their decision making in this case.
"And they can get pretty intense. Scary. Terrifying." Chanyeol visibly shuddered at the memory of what had gone down when some jokers messed with Kim Kibum's hair dye the day before their year-end production. They were found stark naked and bruised in one of the toilet cubicles in the science block. No fingers were pointed even though everyone knew who were responsible.
Over black there is someone playing guitar, breaking to tell a particularly bad joke. He is the first to laugh at the punch line. Muffled mess of shouting, cheering and more shouting.
Fade in on:
Living room. A messily hand-painted banner half-hung across the television set: SCHOOL’S OUT FUCKERS!!! is in front of the couch and the mix of junk food and drinks on the floor. They seated in a circle. Chanyeol is playing the guitar and he gives it a pause to brush his fringe to the left before abandoning his guitar to steal a sour candy bar from the boy next to him.
“Get your own food!” Sehun said with a slap on Chanyeol’s arm.
“But I ran out of - ”
“Well, don’t take mine. I don’t share. These are mine.”
Someone leans out of the circle, fiddling with the volume of the stereos. The music grows deafening - as Adam Lambert screamed out the highest note, the screen cuts to silent darkness.
“Turn that down,” Kyungsoo shoved at the culprit and Jongdae, mouth stuffed with chips, shook his head. Reaching out to give him another shove, Kyungsoo huffed and threw himself onto the couch, one leg out to rest on Jongdae’s shoulders, “I can’t even hear anyone over the music, you ass.”
“What’s a party without music blasting the roof off, come on.”
Jongdae didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. Kyungsoo bit back the urge to kick him in the head.
From beside Yixing, Baekhyun lazily stretched, like a cat, and he grinned when Yixing turned to him to feed him a slice of orange. “Thanks,” he said. Yixing smiled and went back to his conversation with Sehun, the latter still trying to defend his plate of goodies from Chanyeol’s grabby hands.
Baekhyun was about to compliment Jongdae for coming up with the schedule for filming. Who said they couldn’t work and play at the same time? They pushed back the summer break party so that they could get the filming equipment ready (thank heavens for the film society who never actually produced anything substantial for the school to showcase) and now, it was in full swing.
They were interrupted by the doorbell. Baekhyun frowned, looking to his friends, “Did we invite other people?”
“I did,” Junmyeon said with a raised hand.
Seeing that Junmyeon had been the one to buy all the food and rent all the tapes, none of them had any complaints. Baekhyun got up slowly, since it was his house, and was joined by Junmyeon and Jongdae.
“Why are you filming this?” He asked Jongdae, who only grinned and said nothing.
The screen cuts wide to reveal who Baekhyun sees outside the door. The screen quickly fades to black just before Jongdae bursts out laughing.
“I didn’t expect there to be so many of you...” Baekhyun trailed off. He was at a loss of what to do and taking pity on him, Junmyeon took over.
“I see you’ve brought others,” the older boy said.
Still standing outside, Lu Han grinned and pulled Junmyeon into a hug. His hands lingered on the small of Junmyeon’s back and when Junmyeon went back to stand next to Baekhyun, he seemed a little flustered. Baekhyun didn’t notice this because he was too busy staring at the group standing behind Lu Han. Kris was flanked by Zitao, Sehun’s newfound ‘soul mate’ when it came to dyeing his hair a million colors. Then there were Minseok and Jongin, with his headphones on, who were standing at the back.
“Yixing told me you guys won’t mind, do you?”
Junmyeon shook his head and Baekhyun mirrored him. Jongdae interrupted them by stepping forth, waving enthusiastically at Zitao and the rest, before beckoning at them to come on in. They did so and Baekhyun found himself enveloped by the group because they were an awfully friendly bunch, even if Zitao looked hired-killer-fierce when he didn’t smile and Kris seemed more than capable of freezing asses with a mere glance in their direction. Baekhyun’s mind stopped short when he got to the last person.
Dark skin, long lashes and a khaki-colored canvas knapsack slung over his right shoulder.
“Hi,” said Jongin, and Baekhyun’s mind went blank.
There was the stirring and smoldering of old fires that had burned furiously elsewhere. They were now smoking his lungs, making it impossible for him to breathe normally, let alone speak. Again, Junmyeon came to his rescue, stepping forth with a friendly greeting for Jongin, who, while looking curiously at Baekhyun who refused to meet his gaze for a second time in a span of less than a minute, returned the gesture.
All this while, Jongdae had a steady grip on the camera, grinning unashamedly at Jongdae when they were left alone at the door. Junmyeon had herded the rest of them to the living room, where they were received with the ever so loud Chanyeol and Yixing, who of course was happy to see them.
“We needed more actors,” Jongdae began, as way of explanation.
“You knew about this,” Baekhyun hissed. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
Jongdae nodded, still smiling like nothing was wrong when in actual fact, Baekhyun was pretty sure he was going to dig a grave for his best friend because there was no way he could forgive him. “About inviting the Chinese kids? Yixing knew too.”
“Well,” Baekhyun snapped, “Yixing is friends with all members of the Chinese club, of course he’d know. They’re practically family and, for god’s sake, and you know I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about Jongin.”
“Jongin who?” Jongdae teased.
“Kim. Jong. Dae.”
“Oh right,” Jongdae beamed and Baekhyun had wanted no more than to punch him in the face. Perhaps he could convince Kyungsoo to help him with the disposal of Jongdae's body. “How could I have forgotten? Kim Jongin. Junior year, dancer, has been taking rap lessons from Chanyeol and,” he paused significantly, “Byun Baekhyun’s crush since last summer.”
"Shhhhh!" Baekhyun's eyes went wide and he pressed his hands over Jongdae's mouth. His heart was beating hard as a drum. "If anyone hears, I'll shoot you dead."
"Mmmffff!"
"At least keeps your voice down, will you?"
"Mmmffff!"
“And don't get any ideas. I'll kick your face in faster than you can say ‘I love Park Sun-young’.” Baekhyun said with gritted teeth.
That trick always managed to shut Jongdae up like no other.
÷
The party was in full swing. The three youngest were chattering excitedly at a corner, Chanyeol seemed to have struck up a friendship ("Oh dear," Baekhyun thought.) with Lu Han, and nobody was surprised when Junmyeon took a liking to Kris and Minseok. Junmyeon could take a liking to anyone.
"I was telling him about the script," Chanyeol explained when they approached. “They’re going to join us, right?” Baekhyun nodded halfheartedly, gaze gravitating to where Jongin was almost in tears because of something Sehun was saying. Zitao seemed to have caught onto the joke a beat later and he too lost his cool.
Chanyeol, sensing Baekhyun’s distraction, followed it.
“Oh, I know!” Everyone jumped when Chanyeol suddenly shouted this, turning to him warily. “Zitao knows, you know, how to do all the flips and whatnot right?”
“Wushu,” Zitao interjected, “It’s called wushu.”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol’s brows furrowed as he tried to remember the term, “Yeah, that. That’s great. We won’t need any stunt artists now that we have him, right?”
There was a long silence.
“Pray tell me,” Kyungsoo was the first to speak, staring at Chanyeol as if he couldn’t, for the love of all things holy, comprehend how Chanyeol could say such things despite having this thing called a brain. “Which part of a film that is about a summer romance and friendship will require wushu?”
“Oh. Right.”
“We can help with other things though,” Minseok hurriedly said, trying not to dwell on yet another episode of Chanyeol Being Stupid. “Like, Junmyeon said you need another lead?”
“Yeah,” Jongdae turned to give Junmyeon a sweet smile, one that promised repayment of kinds Baekhyun would rather not know. “We do. Can any of you take up that role? Maybe,” he scanned their faces and Baekhyun had a sinking feeling he was going to do something really, really bad. “Jongin? Or Zitao?”
From beside Jongin, Sehun burst out laughing. Baekhyun thought that he looked really weird - all crinkly - whenever he did so. “Jongin gets really shy in front of the camera,” Sehun explained, “Unless he’s on stage dancing or something, he doesn’t - “
“Sure.”
Everyone turned to stare at Jongin and from where he was sitting, Sehun’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“I mean,” Jongin laughed embarrassedly, “I don’t mind? It sounds interesting.”
From that moment onwards, Baekhyun decided that Jongdae was no friend of his.
÷
The wind stirred softly across the yard. Baekhyun was more than happy to step out with the house, carrying with him Kyungsoo’s baked goodies. He didn’t expect to come face to face with Jongin, who had abandoned the boys because Jongdae was going around getting footages of some ‘artistic’ scenes, like birds chirping or dogs barking or something along those lines.
“What are those for?” he asked Baekhyun.
“These?” Baekhyun held up the plate, “Cookies for everyone.”
Without asking, Jongin bounced up the steps, eagerly taking one for himself. He had had half the cookie in his mouth before asking, “It’s alright if I take one right?” and Baekhyun didn’t have the heart to point out that maybe he should have asked before taking. “Sure,” he said instead, cursing himself to the pits of hell because god forbid Jongin look so darn cute when he was enjoying a good chewy piece of chocolate chip cookie.
“I didn’t know you can bake.”
Baekhyun looked up, startled. “I can’t. Not really. I help Kyungsoo out because that guy’s got a knack for ovens and shit. I’m part of the ramen cooking gang, to be honest. I help him out because hey!” he looked down at the plate of cookies, “free food.”
“Please feed me more of this,” Jongin said, finishing the cookie with a huge, contented smile on his face.
Baekhyun’s heart beat a little faster.
“Sure,” he heard himself muttering. “Of course.”
Anything for you.
÷
They started filming proper the day after Jongdae got the rough timeline out and Baekhyun found himself sitting in the middle of Island Creamery with Jongin, their friends a seat away. The film was running and Jongin was the first to break the silence.
“I don’t know much about you,” he said. He didn’t say anything else, just stared at Baekhyun until the older boy caught on. The silence running between them wasn’t wholly uncomfortable (it was as uncomfortable as it could get with a bunch of people breathing down Baekhyun’s neck while he went on a fake ice-cream date with his crush).
“Ah,” Baekhyun said, Jongin’s motive suddenly clear. He brushed back his hair, a nervous tick, and then pressed his hands to his mouth so his voice was a little muffled. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Past relationships? Favorite food? Movies you dislike?” Jongin went on for a while. He had an air of lazy interrogation to him. While he did this, Baekhyun’s hands moved nervously about.
Jongin’s eyes went wide when, after a round of grilling, Baekhyun admitted that he had never dated.
“No-one?” He said this in a tone of disbelief.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t believe you,” Jongin decided, crossing his arms.
Baekhyun laughed, then looked at his feet. “It’s true. I just,” he paused, trying to find the right words, “I guess I just never thought about dating anyone?”
“Do you like anyone, then?”
Refusing to be overwhelmed by all the questions, Baekhyun shot back, “Well, do you?”
Jongin answered with an unexpected, raucous laugh and “Yes, I do.” Before Baekhyun could consider the implications his reply had brought, Jongin leaned in. “And you’ve got something,” he paused, then leaned in to brush his thumb against Baekhyun’s cheek. “Here.”
Baekhyun didn’t get to see what it was; his heart was a strong thud-thud-thud against his chest and he couldn’t form a reply even if he tried.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand cut!”
÷
Kyungsoo turned to Jongdae, who looked very pleased their progress thus far. “You’re the worst.”
“What did I do?” Jongdae looked up from his laptop, surprised.
Shaking his head, Kyungsoo went back to the task of keeping the equipment. “More like what didn’t you do?”
÷
Summer was halfway gone and their progress had been good. Everyone was pleased. Jongdae, as the director, gave everyone a day off, no price to be paid, and like a rocket, Lu Han and Minseok had taken off for the stadium to play a game with other friends. Zitao and Sehun had eagerly tagged along.
Baekhyun was more than happy to stay home. Over the past three weeks, he had been driven nuts by Jongdae and his ridiculous plot devices - numerous ‘dates’ he had to go with Jongin, accompanied by scenes in which the two of them are apart, at some secluded part of the city, contemplating life and love.
“Hyung!”
It was Jongin who had called out to him from behind the shoe rack. Baekhyun eyed his predicament curiously, trying his best not to judge Jongin, who was positively shaking. “Do I want to know?”
“It’s Chanyeol,” Jongin said this with a look of absolute fear.
“Has he been - “
“He’s trying to poison me with this bowl of sludge he calls chocolate cake batter.”
Baekhyun softly went, “Oh no.”
“He’s going to kill me.”
“Not if Kyungsoo sees what he’s done to the kitchen first.”
Jongin was still hiding behind the shoe rack and Baekhyun, pitying him, reached out a hand for Jongin to grab. “Come on,” he laughed when Jongin shook his head, looking like a scared kitten trying to escape giant, menacing humans, “I’ll deal with him if he comes after you, I promise.” He didn’t add that he felt that Jongin, almost his age, should be a tad braver than that.
Ten minutes later found them in Baekhyun’s room. Jongin was curiously prodding at Baekhyun’s collection of miniature beansprout bean bags. “I look like them,” was Baekhyun’s explanation and Jongin accepted it easily enough.
“They’re cute,” Jongin suddenly said without turning around. “Like you.”
And Baekhyun had no idea how he could reply to that.
÷
When Jongdae had first roped Baekhyun into this pet project of his, he had said with conviction that they were doing it all in the name of the Arts. So when Baekhyun was told to stay up until past midnight to sit with Jongin in the middle of the city park, he couldn’t complain about the mosquitos and the chill.
“Remember, Byun Baekhyun, you are doing this for the greater good of mankind. For the freedom of expression, for creativity, and for humanity!” Jongdae called out from where he stood.
“For your glorious film career, more like,” Baekhyun shouted back.
He didn’t hate it, however, because Jongin hadn’t said a word since they started filming. In the quietness, other than the sounds of wind rushing past, Baekhyun could map the stars and hear their every word, every whisper.
“It’s nice,” he said, subconsciously leaning into Jongin when the wind grew stronger.
“Yeah” came the reply. Jongin begins whistling a tune, at once very complicated and very simple. It seemed to be pouring out of him, moving through the gentle light of the stars and the moon, holding its own in the still, all-encompassing night.
Baekhyun, trapped in the lull of the tune, moved so that he was taking in Jongin’s smile, his windswept hair, and short fingernails as he played an invisible piano. His hands were two dancers, not quite dancing with each other but harmonious nonetheless. Baekhyun didn’t realize Jongin had been staring at him too and when he did, embarrassment flooded up from his chest. Blinking, he looked down and focused on Jongin’s fingers, which were still dancing. He tried to absorb the feeling instead the detail, the general wash of motion like how he had examined the sky. At the end of the day, he hadn’t meant to describe the miracle, only its effects.
The night was young and so were they.
÷
Baekhyun rose early the next morning, early enough that he could assume the others were still sleeping. He went to the kitchen, measured out coffee and made batter, then waited to hear the house stir. He heard footsteps down the stairs and for a moment, thought it was Junmyeon’s parents, but it was Jongin.
“Good morning,” Jongin greeted.
“Morning,” Baekhyun replied. He then turned back to the task of making the pancake batter the way Kyungsoo had taught him and the thought struck that Jongin might have left him be, but there he was, stepping forward until he was standing side by side with Baekhyun, scrubbing his face and his neck with a tea towel. Then, he wrung out the towel and looked to Baekhyun.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Mmhm,” Baekhyun went, not knowing why he was steadily trying to ignore Jongin’s presence. He only knew he wished to say no more to Jongin than courtesy required.
Jongin nodded, seeming to have accepted Baekhyun’s coldness, then decided otherwise. “Are you alright?”
“Yes. You don’t have to worry about me.” This time, Baekhyun’s reply was full of frustration and it was all very difficult for both of them to make sense of, like how it was like with a puppy with a vest or an old person without teeth. Jongin looked a little dejected and Baekhyun, kicking aside the vile taste in mouth, went back to his batter.
÷
“I’m not in the mood for idle conversation.”
“I know. Junmyeon told me you upset Jongin, or he upset you, or both.” Jongdae moved so that he was sitting next to Baekhyun on the porch. “Sometimes you’re so loud and we’re so loud that everyone forgets we’re suffering too.” He waited for Baekhyun to say something and having received no response, continued, “What’s bothering you?” Then, softer still, he asked, “What’s eating you up from inside?” He gave Baekhyun a look of pity. Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he appreciated or hated that.
“Him.”
Jongdae didn’t look surprised. “And?”
“And I can’t bear with it any longer, but I don’t know what it is.”
“Maybe you should go talk to him.”
Taking deep breaths, Baekhyun waited for the treble to kick in, the soprano ring of hysteria he knew so well. It did, but he held it down. “And what?” He laughed and once the nausea had passed him by, he laughed harder still. “Have him tell me ‘I’m sorry if I seem to have misled you.’?” He didn’t miss Jongdae shaking his head and glancing sideways at him but he chose to ignore it. “I’m not that brave,” he said, “nor that strong.”
All too often he felt this: lack of goodness. He wasn’t good enough. When he was around Jongin, unsure of his feelings and sure of Jongin’s, he felt worse. Much, much worse.
“You should do something about those insecurities of yours.”
“So should you. So should everyone, really. Well, there’s not much we can do about that.” He was saying that, but he had his own hopes, which were also too high.
“There is.” Jongdae got up, “We just choose not to.”
Baekhyun didn’t doesn’t answer. He was off by himself someplace else.
÷
For the past weeks, they filmed, fooled around, and spent nights at everyone and anyone’s house - wherever Jongdae felt was best for filming. Baekhyun, for the third day, woke and found himself in a room that wasn’t his own. It was Jongdae’s judging from the plum-colored drapes that hung over the curtains that covered the window shades. He woke with a headache, most likely because of the drunken deeds from the night before, and it didn’t take long for a thought to settle in his mind.
Early morning sunlight entered like a tide and so did the feelings he had been trying to bury. His hands weren’t able to block out the wave and just like that, the wind was knocked out of him. It was five minutes before his breath came back, and it gave him time to decide if he was more of a fight or flight person.
Someone knocked on the door. Thinking it was Jongdae, since it was his room, he took the liberty to say “Go away.” He sounded tired. The dull ache behind his eyes refused to leave.
“It’s me.”
It was half past eight and it was absolute chaos in his head. Jongin knocked again, each knock slammed up into Baekhyun’s gut, and he would say “Please just go away.” But he didn’t because this was no doubt inevitable. So instead he wet his lips and said, “Come in then.”
The look of concern Jongin wore was another blow. With difficulty, Baekhyun threw aside the mess of blankets, swiveling his legs around so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Some of them went out for breakfast,” Jongin started. “Minseok hyung dragged them off for a run.”
“Who’s still around?”
“Lu Han and Junmyeon are out at the back but Jongdae told me not to bother them. Reconciliation, I think.”
“Ah,” he mumbled in reply. “Good for them.”
Jongin didn’t look happy. “What about us?”
Baekhyun looked down at his feet with interest. “Us?” His voice sounded softer than it ever had been. It was so unlike him to be so meek, so helpless, because he was used to being the loudest voice in a room, a high note, there to stamp the sadness out of everyone, himself included, because that was what he was good at doing. Now, however, the sadness in him wouldn’t budge. It was Jongin’s fault.
“Yes,” Jongin said solemnly. “What’s wrong with us?”
“I don’t know what you’re saying.”
A moment of silence, then Jongin was speaking again, this time sounding a little angry. “You do. Everything was fine and we were having so much fun together. I really enjoyed our conversations and making things up as we went and - “
“Right,” Baekhyun stopped Jongin short with a laugh, hollow. “We ‘made things up’, didn’t we? It was all part of a script that wasn’t written. You said your lines, I said mine, and now the film is done and so are we.”
“That’s what’s wrong?”
“Yes.” Suddenly Baekhyun couldn’t stop imagining a future with Jongin in it. He wanted Jongin to be there to ask him something as simple as “What’s wrong?” whenever he was feeling lost and hurt. He also wanted such a future to stop being a mere figment of his imagination and start being a part of reality. He didn’t want a “The End” and he didn’t just want to be a name to be credited. He wanted to come undone. “Everything was wrong,” he said. The tears weren’t falling but he knew his eyes and his eyes were red and his hands were shaking and Jongin had always, so he had realized since the start of summer, been observant.
Jongin’s fingers touched the back of his hand. It was like an electric shock. He looked up and Jongin was still squatting in front of him, eyes as sad as what Baekhyun was feeling and Baekhyun found that he couldn’t bear looking at Jongin staring at him like that. “Baekhyun,” Jongin said softly, “Tell me.”
Baekhyun met his eyes, held them, but didn’t speak. He didn’t know where to begin, where to continue, and how it should end.
There was something soft about Jongin’s gaze, something urgent at the same time and as the silence dragged on, Baekhyun still couldn’t find the words. He shook his head, muted, hopes dwindling.
“You’re being really silly,” Jongin said, the words coming out as a whisper. Baekhyun blinked his confusion, hand still in Jongin’s. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one.”
“What?” Baekhyun finally croaked out, voice raspy.
“When Lu Han hyung asked if I wanted to join you guys at the summer break party,” Jongin began, “I went because I knew you’d be there.” His eyes burned with a gleeful and furious certainty. “Do you know why?”
Baekhyun shrugged his shoulders and wistfully shook his head. His face, however, was coming alive with a new thought.
“You mean…”
“I’ve liked you since last summer, you idiot.”
÷
(The camera pans in to focus on a text message that was sent from Kim Jongdae to Kim Junmyeon. It reads: “Operation Matchmaking - Success!”. The screen fades to black.)
A/N:
I'm so terribly sorry the movie they're making wasn't porn.
One
Author: Anonymous until 1/30/14
For: aurics
Pairing: Baekhyun/Kai [side: Luhan/Suho]
Word Count: 5,164
Summary: Baekhyun and his friends are making a movie of their own to kill time during the summer. It's a lot of work, especially when Baekhyun is acting alongside his biggest crush ever and the camera keeps rolling in their faces.
Warnings: None
Rating: G
One
A wide shot. A yellow mid-July day. Conversations are muffled and the camera is lowered to record shoes walking on the pavement. Someone runs ahead. The camera shakes, the cameraman not knowing if he wants to raise the camera or otherwise. The pavement meets grass. Someone is singing Girl’s Generation’s Gee, slightly out of tune.
The camera is focused on the back of Chanyeol’s head before Jongdae enters the frame. Jongdae pushes Chanyeol aside to knock on the door. The door opens for the camera to focus on Kyungsoo’s uncombed hair and the scowl
Kyungsoo turns around and the camera pans out behind him.
“Can you stop filming my ass?” Kyungsoo called out. Baekhyun sniggered before passing the camera back to Jongdae, who took to fiddling with it until they reach the kitchen.
As expected, Chanyeol headed straight for the fridge, rummaging about for half-eaten sandwiches and carefully packed cut fruits to reach for the cans of soda Kyungsoo never drank. “I can’t believe you don’t like drinking this,” he mumbled.
“Too much sugar,” Kyungsoo said.
“Sugar is good for you,” Chanyeol argued. “Glycolic acid maintains your skin by eliminating blemishes and restoring the balance in the skin’s oils.”
“I said ‘too much sugar’, idiot,” Kyungsoo replied, “And you’re leaving out all the health risks.” For someone who was well on his way in getting all As for their classes, Chanyeol lacked a specific type of intelligence Kyungsoo felt that most people ought to have.
“Never mind. Keep drinking.” He turned to face Jongdae, who was already ripping open the last packet of dried fruits, and for the umpteenth time, cursed the day he was placed in the same class as the rest of them.
“Junmyeon hyung is coming later,” Sehun supplied, finally looking up from his phone. “He said he’s bringing someone with him.”
“Yixing?” Jongdae said with his mouth full and earns himself a look of disgust from Kyungsoo.
“Should be.”
“Right o!” Abandoning the packet of diabetic-causing goodies, Jongdae clapped his hands together to call for attention. Chanyeol, in his haste to get his head out of the fridge, let out a yelp when he knocked his head against the corner of the fridge door. There was no doubt Kyungsoo would crack his head open if he had broken any of the eggs lining the top row.
“Let’s get started without them,” Jongdae continued, conveniently ignoring Chanyeol’s little accident. “Shoot ideas at me.”
Almost instantly, Chanyeol had his hand raised, looking all too excited. “Anything works, right?”
Jongdae looked to Kyungsoo apprehensively, mouthing Shoot me.
“Zombies!”
Kyungsoo sighed. “We don’t have the budget for that.”
“Vampires!”
“Again, we don’t have the budget for that.”
“Werewolves!”
“Actually, we don’t have a budget at all,” Kyungsoo hissed, looking up from his notepad to glare at Chanyeol, “Now can you please refrain from suggesting anything?”
Chanyeol didn’t seem to want to oblige, “I was called in for a discussion. We’re supposed to discuss!”
“Which means no stupid ideas,” Kyungsoo muttered, leaning away so he was facing Baekhyun instead of Chanyeol. “I was thinking slice of life,” he told Baekhyun, who nodded because that seemed more plausible with their budget (or lack thereof). “Something about friendship, self-discovery, something light-hearted but at times, sad, or serious, contemplative.”
“That’s not a movie,” Chanyeol interrupted, “That’s a documentary.”
“Shut up,” Kyungsoo said irritably, “Wasn’t talking to you.”
And that was how Chanyeol ended up calling his sister to cry about being bullied by Kyungsoo.
÷
In the end, Jongdae and Kyungsoo took rein of the discussion (and Baekhyun had to bribe Chanyeol with chips while Sehun blogged about Chanyeol being a crybaby on myfriendsarestupid.com). They were going along the lines of an coming-of-age film and everyone was casted, in one way or another, because Jongdae wanted the film to be one without script. It was, according to him, going to be demonstrative and raw. The project meant a lot to him, they all knew this, but he wanted it to be something genuine, an expression of his love for the arts as well as an honest documentation of their last summer in this city.
“You’re going to help promote the film on your blog,” Jongdae ordered, Sehun nodded. He had no choice, what with Kyungsoo having him in a headlock and all. Baekhyun had his phone out, ready to call for an ambulance, and all Chanyeol did was to finish another can of soda.
"We can ask Junmyeon hyung to find us some people who'll be interested in this," Kyungsoo added.
"Do you know anyone aside from us who'll say yes?" Baekhyun asked, still bitter he wasn't allowed to refuse when Jongdae had asked for a 'small' favor. Now that he knew what it was that Jongdae had had in mind, he was more adverse to the idea. He didn't want to disappoint any of then, however, and the only way to do so was to give it his best possible acting.
"Drama club?"
"Not them," Sehun wheezed. Lucky for him, Kyungsoo recognized the request and quietly, he let go of their youngest. "They're so. Troublesome."
Personal experiences and the schools rumor had lots to say about the drama kids. They were very, to put it simply, dramatic. Not that the same could be said about drama kids elsewhere, but the drama club had really bad discipline once they were off the stage and frankly, it wasn't something the group fancied to have in the midst of a filming that was meant to be lighthearted and fun.
"That's an understatement," Jongdae agreed, laughing. Other than Sehun, who always acted as if he was a prickly porcupine around strangers, the rest of them had made decent friends in all social circles, drama club included. That, however, couldn't speak for their decision making in this case.
"And they can get pretty intense. Scary. Terrifying." Chanyeol visibly shuddered at the memory of what had gone down when some jokers messed with Kim Kibum's hair dye the day before their year-end production. They were found stark naked and bruised in one of the toilet cubicles in the science block. No fingers were pointed even though everyone knew who were responsible.
Over black there is someone playing guitar, breaking to tell a particularly bad joke. He is the first to laugh at the punch line. Muffled mess of shouting, cheering and more shouting.
Fade in on:
Living room. A messily hand-painted banner half-hung across the television set: SCHOOL’S OUT FUCKERS!!! is in front of the couch and the mix of junk food and drinks on the floor. They seated in a circle. Chanyeol is playing the guitar and he gives it a pause to brush his fringe to the left before abandoning his guitar to steal a sour candy bar from the boy next to him.
“Get your own food!” Sehun said with a slap on Chanyeol’s arm.
“But I ran out of - ”
“Well, don’t take mine. I don’t share. These are mine.”
Someone leans out of the circle, fiddling with the volume of the stereos. The music grows deafening - as Adam Lambert screamed out the highest note, the screen cuts to silent darkness.
“Turn that down,” Kyungsoo shoved at the culprit and Jongdae, mouth stuffed with chips, shook his head. Reaching out to give him another shove, Kyungsoo huffed and threw himself onto the couch, one leg out to rest on Jongdae’s shoulders, “I can’t even hear anyone over the music, you ass.”
“What’s a party without music blasting the roof off, come on.”
Jongdae didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. Kyungsoo bit back the urge to kick him in the head.
From beside Yixing, Baekhyun lazily stretched, like a cat, and he grinned when Yixing turned to him to feed him a slice of orange. “Thanks,” he said. Yixing smiled and went back to his conversation with Sehun, the latter still trying to defend his plate of goodies from Chanyeol’s grabby hands.
Baekhyun was about to compliment Jongdae for coming up with the schedule for filming. Who said they couldn’t work and play at the same time? They pushed back the summer break party so that they could get the filming equipment ready (thank heavens for the film society who never actually produced anything substantial for the school to showcase) and now, it was in full swing.
They were interrupted by the doorbell. Baekhyun frowned, looking to his friends, “Did we invite other people?”
“I did,” Junmyeon said with a raised hand.
Seeing that Junmyeon had been the one to buy all the food and rent all the tapes, none of them had any complaints. Baekhyun got up slowly, since it was his house, and was joined by Junmyeon and Jongdae.
“Why are you filming this?” He asked Jongdae, who only grinned and said nothing.
The screen cuts wide to reveal who Baekhyun sees outside the door. The screen quickly fades to black just before Jongdae bursts out laughing.
“I didn’t expect there to be so many of you...” Baekhyun trailed off. He was at a loss of what to do and taking pity on him, Junmyeon took over.
“I see you’ve brought others,” the older boy said.
Still standing outside, Lu Han grinned and pulled Junmyeon into a hug. His hands lingered on the small of Junmyeon’s back and when Junmyeon went back to stand next to Baekhyun, he seemed a little flustered. Baekhyun didn’t notice this because he was too busy staring at the group standing behind Lu Han. Kris was flanked by Zitao, Sehun’s newfound ‘soul mate’ when it came to dyeing his hair a million colors. Then there were Minseok and Jongin, with his headphones on, who were standing at the back.
“Yixing told me you guys won’t mind, do you?”
Junmyeon shook his head and Baekhyun mirrored him. Jongdae interrupted them by stepping forth, waving enthusiastically at Zitao and the rest, before beckoning at them to come on in. They did so and Baekhyun found himself enveloped by the group because they were an awfully friendly bunch, even if Zitao looked hired-killer-fierce when he didn’t smile and Kris seemed more than capable of freezing asses with a mere glance in their direction. Baekhyun’s mind stopped short when he got to the last person.
Dark skin, long lashes and a khaki-colored canvas knapsack slung over his right shoulder.
“Hi,” said Jongin, and Baekhyun’s mind went blank.
There was the stirring and smoldering of old fires that had burned furiously elsewhere. They were now smoking his lungs, making it impossible for him to breathe normally, let alone speak. Again, Junmyeon came to his rescue, stepping forth with a friendly greeting for Jongin, who, while looking curiously at Baekhyun who refused to meet his gaze for a second time in a span of less than a minute, returned the gesture.
All this while, Jongdae had a steady grip on the camera, grinning unashamedly at Jongdae when they were left alone at the door. Junmyeon had herded the rest of them to the living room, where they were received with the ever so loud Chanyeol and Yixing, who of course was happy to see them.
“We needed more actors,” Jongdae began, as way of explanation.
“You knew about this,” Baekhyun hissed. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
Jongdae nodded, still smiling like nothing was wrong when in actual fact, Baekhyun was pretty sure he was going to dig a grave for his best friend because there was no way he could forgive him. “About inviting the Chinese kids? Yixing knew too.”
“Well,” Baekhyun snapped, “Yixing is friends with all members of the Chinese club, of course he’d know. They’re practically family and, for god’s sake, and you know I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about Jongin.”
“Jongin who?” Jongdae teased.
“Kim. Jong. Dae.”
“Oh right,” Jongdae beamed and Baekhyun had wanted no more than to punch him in the face. Perhaps he could convince Kyungsoo to help him with the disposal of Jongdae's body. “How could I have forgotten? Kim Jongin. Junior year, dancer, has been taking rap lessons from Chanyeol and,” he paused significantly, “Byun Baekhyun’s crush since last summer.”
"Shhhhh!" Baekhyun's eyes went wide and he pressed his hands over Jongdae's mouth. His heart was beating hard as a drum. "If anyone hears, I'll shoot you dead."
"Mmmffff!"
"At least keeps your voice down, will you?"
"Mmmffff!"
“And don't get any ideas. I'll kick your face in faster than you can say ‘I love Park Sun-young’.” Baekhyun said with gritted teeth.
That trick always managed to shut Jongdae up like no other.
÷
The party was in full swing. The three youngest were chattering excitedly at a corner, Chanyeol seemed to have struck up a friendship ("Oh dear," Baekhyun thought.) with Lu Han, and nobody was surprised when Junmyeon took a liking to Kris and Minseok. Junmyeon could take a liking to anyone.
"I was telling him about the script," Chanyeol explained when they approached. “They’re going to join us, right?” Baekhyun nodded halfheartedly, gaze gravitating to where Jongin was almost in tears because of something Sehun was saying. Zitao seemed to have caught onto the joke a beat later and he too lost his cool.
Chanyeol, sensing Baekhyun’s distraction, followed it.
“Oh, I know!” Everyone jumped when Chanyeol suddenly shouted this, turning to him warily. “Zitao knows, you know, how to do all the flips and whatnot right?”
“Wushu,” Zitao interjected, “It’s called wushu.”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol’s brows furrowed as he tried to remember the term, “Yeah, that. That’s great. We won’t need any stunt artists now that we have him, right?”
There was a long silence.
“Pray tell me,” Kyungsoo was the first to speak, staring at Chanyeol as if he couldn’t, for the love of all things holy, comprehend how Chanyeol could say such things despite having this thing called a brain. “Which part of a film that is about a summer romance and friendship will require wushu?”
“Oh. Right.”
“We can help with other things though,” Minseok hurriedly said, trying not to dwell on yet another episode of Chanyeol Being Stupid. “Like, Junmyeon said you need another lead?”
“Yeah,” Jongdae turned to give Junmyeon a sweet smile, one that promised repayment of kinds Baekhyun would rather not know. “We do. Can any of you take up that role? Maybe,” he scanned their faces and Baekhyun had a sinking feeling he was going to do something really, really bad. “Jongin? Or Zitao?”
From beside Jongin, Sehun burst out laughing. Baekhyun thought that he looked really weird - all crinkly - whenever he did so. “Jongin gets really shy in front of the camera,” Sehun explained, “Unless he’s on stage dancing or something, he doesn’t - “
“Sure.”
Everyone turned to stare at Jongin and from where he was sitting, Sehun’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“I mean,” Jongin laughed embarrassedly, “I don’t mind? It sounds interesting.”
From that moment onwards, Baekhyun decided that Jongdae was no friend of his.
÷
The wind stirred softly across the yard. Baekhyun was more than happy to step out with the house, carrying with him Kyungsoo’s baked goodies. He didn’t expect to come face to face with Jongin, who had abandoned the boys because Jongdae was going around getting footages of some ‘artistic’ scenes, like birds chirping or dogs barking or something along those lines.
“What are those for?” he asked Baekhyun.
“These?” Baekhyun held up the plate, “Cookies for everyone.”
Without asking, Jongin bounced up the steps, eagerly taking one for himself. He had had half the cookie in his mouth before asking, “It’s alright if I take one right?” and Baekhyun didn’t have the heart to point out that maybe he should have asked before taking. “Sure,” he said instead, cursing himself to the pits of hell because god forbid Jongin look so darn cute when he was enjoying a good chewy piece of chocolate chip cookie.
“I didn’t know you can bake.”
Baekhyun looked up, startled. “I can’t. Not really. I help Kyungsoo out because that guy’s got a knack for ovens and shit. I’m part of the ramen cooking gang, to be honest. I help him out because hey!” he looked down at the plate of cookies, “free food.”
“Please feed me more of this,” Jongin said, finishing the cookie with a huge, contented smile on his face.
Baekhyun’s heart beat a little faster.
“Sure,” he heard himself muttering. “Of course.”
Anything for you.
÷
They started filming proper the day after Jongdae got the rough timeline out and Baekhyun found himself sitting in the middle of Island Creamery with Jongin, their friends a seat away. The film was running and Jongin was the first to break the silence.
“I don’t know much about you,” he said. He didn’t say anything else, just stared at Baekhyun until the older boy caught on. The silence running between them wasn’t wholly uncomfortable (it was as uncomfortable as it could get with a bunch of people breathing down Baekhyun’s neck while he went on a fake ice-cream date with his crush).
“Ah,” Baekhyun said, Jongin’s motive suddenly clear. He brushed back his hair, a nervous tick, and then pressed his hands to his mouth so his voice was a little muffled. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Past relationships? Favorite food? Movies you dislike?” Jongin went on for a while. He had an air of lazy interrogation to him. While he did this, Baekhyun’s hands moved nervously about.
Jongin’s eyes went wide when, after a round of grilling, Baekhyun admitted that he had never dated.
“No-one?” He said this in a tone of disbelief.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t believe you,” Jongin decided, crossing his arms.
Baekhyun laughed, then looked at his feet. “It’s true. I just,” he paused, trying to find the right words, “I guess I just never thought about dating anyone?”
“Do you like anyone, then?”
Refusing to be overwhelmed by all the questions, Baekhyun shot back, “Well, do you?”
Jongin answered with an unexpected, raucous laugh and “Yes, I do.” Before Baekhyun could consider the implications his reply had brought, Jongin leaned in. “And you’ve got something,” he paused, then leaned in to brush his thumb against Baekhyun’s cheek. “Here.”
Baekhyun didn’t get to see what it was; his heart was a strong thud-thud-thud against his chest and he couldn’t form a reply even if he tried.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand cut!”
÷
Kyungsoo turned to Jongdae, who looked very pleased their progress thus far. “You’re the worst.”
“What did I do?” Jongdae looked up from his laptop, surprised.
Shaking his head, Kyungsoo went back to the task of keeping the equipment. “More like what didn’t you do?”
÷
Summer was halfway gone and their progress had been good. Everyone was pleased. Jongdae, as the director, gave everyone a day off, no price to be paid, and like a rocket, Lu Han and Minseok had taken off for the stadium to play a game with other friends. Zitao and Sehun had eagerly tagged along.
Baekhyun was more than happy to stay home. Over the past three weeks, he had been driven nuts by Jongdae and his ridiculous plot devices - numerous ‘dates’ he had to go with Jongin, accompanied by scenes in which the two of them are apart, at some secluded part of the city, contemplating life and love.
“Hyung!”
It was Jongin who had called out to him from behind the shoe rack. Baekhyun eyed his predicament curiously, trying his best not to judge Jongin, who was positively shaking. “Do I want to know?”
“It’s Chanyeol,” Jongin said this with a look of absolute fear.
“Has he been - “
“He’s trying to poison me with this bowl of sludge he calls chocolate cake batter.”
Baekhyun softly went, “Oh no.”
“He’s going to kill me.”
“Not if Kyungsoo sees what he’s done to the kitchen first.”
Jongin was still hiding behind the shoe rack and Baekhyun, pitying him, reached out a hand for Jongin to grab. “Come on,” he laughed when Jongin shook his head, looking like a scared kitten trying to escape giant, menacing humans, “I’ll deal with him if he comes after you, I promise.” He didn’t add that he felt that Jongin, almost his age, should be a tad braver than that.
Ten minutes later found them in Baekhyun’s room. Jongin was curiously prodding at Baekhyun’s collection of miniature beansprout bean bags. “I look like them,” was Baekhyun’s explanation and Jongin accepted it easily enough.
“They’re cute,” Jongin suddenly said without turning around. “Like you.”
And Baekhyun had no idea how he could reply to that.
÷
When Jongdae had first roped Baekhyun into this pet project of his, he had said with conviction that they were doing it all in the name of the Arts. So when Baekhyun was told to stay up until past midnight to sit with Jongin in the middle of the city park, he couldn’t complain about the mosquitos and the chill.
“Remember, Byun Baekhyun, you are doing this for the greater good of mankind. For the freedom of expression, for creativity, and for humanity!” Jongdae called out from where he stood.
“For your glorious film career, more like,” Baekhyun shouted back.
He didn’t hate it, however, because Jongin hadn’t said a word since they started filming. In the quietness, other than the sounds of wind rushing past, Baekhyun could map the stars and hear their every word, every whisper.
“It’s nice,” he said, subconsciously leaning into Jongin when the wind grew stronger.
“Yeah” came the reply. Jongin begins whistling a tune, at once very complicated and very simple. It seemed to be pouring out of him, moving through the gentle light of the stars and the moon, holding its own in the still, all-encompassing night.
Baekhyun, trapped in the lull of the tune, moved so that he was taking in Jongin’s smile, his windswept hair, and short fingernails as he played an invisible piano. His hands were two dancers, not quite dancing with each other but harmonious nonetheless. Baekhyun didn’t realize Jongin had been staring at him too and when he did, embarrassment flooded up from his chest. Blinking, he looked down and focused on Jongin’s fingers, which were still dancing. He tried to absorb the feeling instead the detail, the general wash of motion like how he had examined the sky. At the end of the day, he hadn’t meant to describe the miracle, only its effects.
The night was young and so were they.
÷
Baekhyun rose early the next morning, early enough that he could assume the others were still sleeping. He went to the kitchen, measured out coffee and made batter, then waited to hear the house stir. He heard footsteps down the stairs and for a moment, thought it was Junmyeon’s parents, but it was Jongin.
“Good morning,” Jongin greeted.
“Morning,” Baekhyun replied. He then turned back to the task of making the pancake batter the way Kyungsoo had taught him and the thought struck that Jongin might have left him be, but there he was, stepping forward until he was standing side by side with Baekhyun, scrubbing his face and his neck with a tea towel. Then, he wrung out the towel and looked to Baekhyun.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Mmhm,” Baekhyun went, not knowing why he was steadily trying to ignore Jongin’s presence. He only knew he wished to say no more to Jongin than courtesy required.
Jongin nodded, seeming to have accepted Baekhyun’s coldness, then decided otherwise. “Are you alright?”
“Yes. You don’t have to worry about me.” This time, Baekhyun’s reply was full of frustration and it was all very difficult for both of them to make sense of, like how it was like with a puppy with a vest or an old person without teeth. Jongin looked a little dejected and Baekhyun, kicking aside the vile taste in mouth, went back to his batter.
÷
“I’m not in the mood for idle conversation.”
“I know. Junmyeon told me you upset Jongin, or he upset you, or both.” Jongdae moved so that he was sitting next to Baekhyun on the porch. “Sometimes you’re so loud and we’re so loud that everyone forgets we’re suffering too.” He waited for Baekhyun to say something and having received no response, continued, “What’s bothering you?” Then, softer still, he asked, “What’s eating you up from inside?” He gave Baekhyun a look of pity. Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he appreciated or hated that.
“Him.”
Jongdae didn’t look surprised. “And?”
“And I can’t bear with it any longer, but I don’t know what it is.”
“Maybe you should go talk to him.”
Taking deep breaths, Baekhyun waited for the treble to kick in, the soprano ring of hysteria he knew so well. It did, but he held it down. “And what?” He laughed and once the nausea had passed him by, he laughed harder still. “Have him tell me ‘I’m sorry if I seem to have misled you.’?” He didn’t miss Jongdae shaking his head and glancing sideways at him but he chose to ignore it. “I’m not that brave,” he said, “nor that strong.”
All too often he felt this: lack of goodness. He wasn’t good enough. When he was around Jongin, unsure of his feelings and sure of Jongin’s, he felt worse. Much, much worse.
“You should do something about those insecurities of yours.”
“So should you. So should everyone, really. Well, there’s not much we can do about that.” He was saying that, but he had his own hopes, which were also too high.
“There is.” Jongdae got up, “We just choose not to.”
Baekhyun didn’t doesn’t answer. He was off by himself someplace else.
÷
For the past weeks, they filmed, fooled around, and spent nights at everyone and anyone’s house - wherever Jongdae felt was best for filming. Baekhyun, for the third day, woke and found himself in a room that wasn’t his own. It was Jongdae’s judging from the plum-colored drapes that hung over the curtains that covered the window shades. He woke with a headache, most likely because of the drunken deeds from the night before, and it didn’t take long for a thought to settle in his mind.
Early morning sunlight entered like a tide and so did the feelings he had been trying to bury. His hands weren’t able to block out the wave and just like that, the wind was knocked out of him. It was five minutes before his breath came back, and it gave him time to decide if he was more of a fight or flight person.
Someone knocked on the door. Thinking it was Jongdae, since it was his room, he took the liberty to say “Go away.” He sounded tired. The dull ache behind his eyes refused to leave.
“It’s me.”
It was half past eight and it was absolute chaos in his head. Jongin knocked again, each knock slammed up into Baekhyun’s gut, and he would say “Please just go away.” But he didn’t because this was no doubt inevitable. So instead he wet his lips and said, “Come in then.”
The look of concern Jongin wore was another blow. With difficulty, Baekhyun threw aside the mess of blankets, swiveling his legs around so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Some of them went out for breakfast,” Jongin started. “Minseok hyung dragged them off for a run.”
“Who’s still around?”
“Lu Han and Junmyeon are out at the back but Jongdae told me not to bother them. Reconciliation, I think.”
“Ah,” he mumbled in reply. “Good for them.”
Jongin didn’t look happy. “What about us?”
Baekhyun looked down at his feet with interest. “Us?” His voice sounded softer than it ever had been. It was so unlike him to be so meek, so helpless, because he was used to being the loudest voice in a room, a high note, there to stamp the sadness out of everyone, himself included, because that was what he was good at doing. Now, however, the sadness in him wouldn’t budge. It was Jongin’s fault.
“Yes,” Jongin said solemnly. “What’s wrong with us?”
“I don’t know what you’re saying.”
A moment of silence, then Jongin was speaking again, this time sounding a little angry. “You do. Everything was fine and we were having so much fun together. I really enjoyed our conversations and making things up as we went and - “
“Right,” Baekhyun stopped Jongin short with a laugh, hollow. “We ‘made things up’, didn’t we? It was all part of a script that wasn’t written. You said your lines, I said mine, and now the film is done and so are we.”
“That’s what’s wrong?”
“Yes.” Suddenly Baekhyun couldn’t stop imagining a future with Jongin in it. He wanted Jongin to be there to ask him something as simple as “What’s wrong?” whenever he was feeling lost and hurt. He also wanted such a future to stop being a mere figment of his imagination and start being a part of reality. He didn’t want a “The End” and he didn’t just want to be a name to be credited. He wanted to come undone. “Everything was wrong,” he said. The tears weren’t falling but he knew his eyes and his eyes were red and his hands were shaking and Jongin had always, so he had realized since the start of summer, been observant.
Jongin’s fingers touched the back of his hand. It was like an electric shock. He looked up and Jongin was still squatting in front of him, eyes as sad as what Baekhyun was feeling and Baekhyun found that he couldn’t bear looking at Jongin staring at him like that. “Baekhyun,” Jongin said softly, “Tell me.”
Baekhyun met his eyes, held them, but didn’t speak. He didn’t know where to begin, where to continue, and how it should end.
There was something soft about Jongin’s gaze, something urgent at the same time and as the silence dragged on, Baekhyun still couldn’t find the words. He shook his head, muted, hopes dwindling.
“You’re being really silly,” Jongin said, the words coming out as a whisper. Baekhyun blinked his confusion, hand still in Jongin’s. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one.”
“What?” Baekhyun finally croaked out, voice raspy.
“When Lu Han hyung asked if I wanted to join you guys at the summer break party,” Jongin began, “I went because I knew you’d be there.” His eyes burned with a gleeful and furious certainty. “Do you know why?”
Baekhyun shrugged his shoulders and wistfully shook his head. His face, however, was coming alive with a new thought.
“You mean…”
“I’ve liked you since last summer, you idiot.”
÷
(The camera pans in to focus on a text message that was sent from Kim Jongdae to Kim Junmyeon. It reads: “Operation Matchmaking - Success!”. The screen fades to black.)
A/N:
I'm so terribly sorry the movie they're making wasn't porn.
One