wip thats never going to be completed, tbh; coded
2400w > krisyeol
wrote this in one night and the drive died the next morning when i woke up. gave up on this for many reasons. one of them being sad endings and i hate sad endings. another being tons of research and i found myself googling Strange Stuff
not beta-ed
★
Yifan kind of misses the days when he couldn’t speak much Korean. It is then that Chanyeol develops the habit of being quiet only around him. They are seated beside each other in class and Chanyeol despite the obvious difficulties, is hell bent on becoming friends with the new Chinese boy in class. He adjusts his hat and polishes the school crest on it with fierce determination. At first, he talks really loudly to Yifan, as if that will help get his message across, although he’s still speaking Korean.
“Maybe he’s just deaf,” Chanyeol insists stubbornly to Jongdae who knocks his right fist against his classmate’s head.
“Maybe this is empty.”
Gradually, Chanyeol stops talking and starts using sign language, which is quite redundant since his facial expressions are so rich, watching Chanyeol is like watching a movie reel unwind, images being flung everywhere. Then he progresses to tapping Yifan’s forearm as a means of communication, as if it’s their own private Morse code. His teacher said it was used in the last world war. This is also a war of sorts, Chanyeol guesses.
Tapping twice on Yifan’s arm, Chanyeol says, “This means yes.” Then he taps four times and declares, “This means no.” Pleased with himself, Chanyeol then pushes his chair to beside Yifan’s and slings an arm around his shoulder, the brass buttons on his black blazer digging into Yifan’s back.
“What this mean?” Yifan cocks a brow and points to Chanyeol arm.
“This means you’re my best friend.” The grin on Chanyeol’s face threatens to eclipse Yifan’s world. He never had a friend before. He also never had someone shamelessly announcing himself as his best friend on the third day they know each other. Although the move is very heart-warming, it is still rather shameless.
“Chingu,” Yifan mutters, the warmth from Chanyeol clings persistently onto his skin. Looking utterly delighted, Chanyeol taps his finger twice on Yifan’s arm. That’s Chanyeol - from the first day that Yifan knows him - so open to love that Yifan has always wanted to wrap his arms back around him and close him to all the pain love inevitably brings.
Chanyeol insists on using their code, even when Yifan tells him in lopsided Korean a year later, “My Korean now better.”
Smiling gently, Chanyeol taps Yifan’s wrist twice, then he pauses. Flutters his fingers playfully above pale skin before tapping five times on Yifan’s fluffy cheek, three times, another set of five, Yifan loses count then, when he gazes into Chanyeol’s bright eyes, their ends folding softly into his temples when he smiles for Yifan. His eyes are so clear, free of secrets and worry. Yifan wishes he could keep them like this forever, even though he already knows nothing lasts forever. But he can protect Chanyeol for a long time. A long, long time. That would be good.
Back then, Chanyeol is the pretty Korean boy who sits beside him at the back of class and invents their private code when they weren’t able to converse in a common language. With clumsy fingers, Chanyeol crafts the bridge that would lead him to Yifan, and together, they’d walk many bridges. It’s just that some bridges are not meant to be crossed, but when people crave too much for something, they tend to think that the impossible could be possible.
For a brief period in Yifan’s life, Chanyeol brings him incredible happiness.
★
The word ‘war’ is on everyone’s lips and people are afraid. They haven’t even recovered from the previous war but what can Chanyeol and Yifan do? They are teenagers. They step on yellowing flyers that fall from walls, sidestep protests on the way to school and head to wherever their paths sway.
Last column from the right, last row, first and second seats, where Yifan and Chanyeol sat beside each other throughout high school. Days are stringed easily into years. Insults are hand-carved onto their desks with penknives and Jongdae manages to squeeze in a 김종대24081949 but unfortunately gets caught by the teacher and is clubbed on the ass.
By his third year in South Korea and final year of high school, Yifan’s Korean is pretty fluent already and he learns that the strange symbols Chanyeol has been carving onto his desk are musical notes. That might be because his mom has been sending him for piano lessons though. Yifan would rather spend his afternoons in school, sprawled over his table, listening to the hum of life and waiting for that familiar touch on his arm.
Tap, tap.
Yifan’s head swiveled around to look at Chanyeol who’s pointing at the large ♬ he has tattooed onto the desk. “Music,” says Chanyeol, before he starts nodding his head to a beat no one else can hear and air guitars emotionally. When he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth so wide Yifan can see his uvula, his best friend holds up a hand to shield himself from the attack, “I have done nothing wrong to deserve your singing.”
Scowling, Chanyeol snaps his jaw shout and says, “Guitar.”
“Chanyeol, you know I can speak complete sentences by now, don’t you?” Yifan mumbles lazily, hand on his chin as he glances at Chanyeol.
“I don’t know, Yifan,” Chanyeol mumbles with the air of someone who’s summoning great patience from his being and Yifan is already beginning to grin, “it’s just hard to tell when you always think you’re too broody for words.” He sends the girls who are gathered outside their classroom a condescending smirk, and gives their pigtails and skirts that fall below the knee the once-over. “Your stupid face, I wonder why some people like it so much.” Narrowing his eyes, Chanyeol leans closer to Yifan and pretends to survey his face critically. Yifan lets him do that because it’s Chanyeol. Chanyeol is safe and secure. Two years of friendship, a lifetime of good.
His shoulder is pressing into Yifan’s, just as warm and reassuring as the first time he threw an arm around Yifan. Indulging himself, Yifan lies pliant against him, savoring the feeling of having Chanyeol near, before he pulls away discreetly, careful not to hurt anyone’s feelings. He already knows he can't make himself stay away, so restraint becomes something very important.
Yifan likes it when Chanyeol is close, even though he knows boys shouldn’t be this close. But Chanyeol is prettier than a lot of the girls in school. Chanyeol makes him laugh. Chanyeol has invented a code to unlock Yifan’s heart.
Boys shouldn’t be this close to each other but Chanyeol makes him happy. Is this a bad thing?
Yifan stares at the school uniform Chanyeol is wearing. White short sleeved shirt and grey pants, name sewn in black thread above the pocket, just like the one he’s wearing. He frowns. Chanyeol frowns, too. “What?” he asks quietly, calming Yifan down by patting his arm, not knowing he’s both poison and antidote.
They don’t do this two years ago. The tapping has escalated into touches, hands brush alongside each other, sometimes his hand finds its way onto Chanyeol’s thigh when they are sitting side by side and chatting. When a stray bang falls into Chanyeol's eyes, it's only second nature to Yifan to lift a finger and sweep it away. The smile on Chanyeol's face always encourages him but Yifan would rather he not do that.
It’s not conscious, just familiarity around friends. What’s foreign is that wistful smile on Chanyeol’s face a year ago when he tapped Yifan’s cheek. That look of trust and fondness on his face. No, actually, that expression has grown familiar too. What’s strange is the pain that wells up in his chest at the mere thought of it.
The very first time Chanyeol had that look on his face, he had been handing out his heart like it’s not worth anything at all. Yifan expected a question from Chanyeol but nothing came. It was as if Chanyeol just wanted to tell a secret but would not ask for another in return. He’s always understanding towards Yifan like that, even though Yifan thinks that Chanyeol is the one who needs his protection. But character is something that’s stitched across the heart, not decorated on the sleeve. You don’t need to look strong in order to be strong.
And now, he takes Chanyeol’s hand and enfolds it within his grasp. It’s almost as large as his. Chanyeol doesn’t wear skirts but Yifan likes him anyway. Everything that feels right is wrong. It’s scary. From the corner of his eye, he sees a classmate looking in their direction and he hastily drops the hand and grabs his briefcase instead. “I’ve got to go, the chauffeur’s waiting.” The corners of Chanyeol’s mouth go down ever so slightly and before he can stop himself, Yifan already has a hand curled against the softness of Chanyeol’s cheek. It is simply instinct to be near Chanyeol. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. There are too many things to apologize for at the same time. Yifan is sorry that he held Chanyeol’s hand and he’s sorry, too, for not holding his hand.
Chanyeol nods and closes his eyes, listening to Yifan’s departure, letting the heat on his cheek dissipates until nothing’s left, but forgiveness.
★
The next day, Yifan presents Chanyeol with a guitar. He gasps and runs eager fingers along the brown leather guitar case before he quickly hands it back to Yifan, careful not to let any teachers see him with it, lest they snatch it from him. Yifan is different; Yifan is older than everyone by two years, Yifan can bring a guitar to school without gathering the wrong kind of attention, Yifan can stride through the gates even when he’s late, Yifan’s father is a Chinese ambassador. They don’t like the Chinese, they’re in cahoots with the other Korea. But everyone is still afraid of Yifan and Chanyeol is his only friend. It's amazing how he did that, just barged in one day and drove all the loneliness away.
“How did you get it?” he hisses to Yifan, who just smiles. No one has the money for frivolous things like this nowadays, every bit is going to the preparations for war. All Yifan did, however, is to ask about it when his piano teacher dropped by for lessons and he was presented with one. He took it without feeling sorry, the piano teacher will get far more when he seeks a reward from his father. “Let’s go to the park after school!” The shine on Chanyeol’s face is extremely pleasing. Yifan is still sorry for what happened yesterday, so he resists tugging on Chanyeol’s floppy ears and nods instead.
★
Chanyeol fails miserably at playing the guitar, those hands that are almost the size of Kris’ couldn’t master the F chord. “Who told you I wanted a guitar?” he glowers at Yifan who beams and pats his cheeks. The summer breeze drifts by and a leaf floats down gently to rest on the top of Chanyeol’s head. They are sitting side by side on a flight of stairs in the park and no one is looking when Yifan leans forward to pick the leaf out from Chanyeol’s hair. No one is going to notice the lack of distance between them, so suddenly, Yifan finds himself getting too close. The creases of Chanyeol’s lids are deep, and his lashes long, but when Chanyeol drops his eyes and bites his lower lip, Yifan can look nowhere else but at his mouth. Wholly mesmerized, he fits a hand on the slope of Chanyeol’s jaw and pulls his lip free with a thumb. Chanyeol’s lips look soft and Yifan wants to kiss them pink. Once the idea is seeded in his head, Yifan is consumed with an overwhelming desire to satisfy himself. This is what happens when a person holds himself back from an addiction for too long a time. He overindulges.
Yifan’s head tilts to an angle that would fit them together and all he’s aware of now is the fierce beat of his heart and the wild need to be even closer. A hand finds its way to Chanyeol’s back and he’s now in Yifan’s arms, their breaths on each other’s cheeks, but still not close enough. Yifan forgets to ask, but Chanyeol gives him confidence anyway, when he peers up from lowered lashes and the look on his face tells Yifan he’s going to allow this. It’s the same trust that Chanyeol has always given to Yifan and it wakes him up a little. He tries to tell Chanyeol that this is wrong, this is too dangerous, as if Chanyeol had no idea. His lips hover over Chanyeol's, breath hot and skin tingling, but it's that maddening restraint all over again when all he wants to do is to crash into Chanyeol and burn with him. Yifan shudders and grinds his forehead against Chanyeol's, his eyes seal shut and his breathing is reduced to harsh pants. The longing is unbearable.
But what Chanyeol needs isn't Yifan's protection. He doesn't give him time to hesitate, he falls right into Yifan.
When Chanyeol's eyes close, Yifan thought he saw something slip out from them, the conclusion to two years of waiting. Then their lips touch and Yifan realises he has waited just as long, his yearning just as strong, and Chanyeol cannot possibly be wrong for him.
They are too young, they don’t even know how to kiss, there’s too much teeth but Chanyeol clings onto Yifan’s collar and pulls him in even closer, as if he’s desperate and drowning. Breathing heavily, Yifan pushes Chanyeol down instead, until his back hits the edge of a step and Yifan’s head shifts to kiss Chanyeol from another angle, lips now sliding smoothly against his. They are already learning how to kiss. It is crazy but Yifan wants more, he doesn’t know what to do, however, just runs his hands along the sides of Chanyeol’s body, gasps when his tongue touches Chanyeol’s by accident, keeps taking and taking. The intimacy is mind-blowing, they have never been so close to another person before, have never touched another like this. Chanyeol is everywhere and Yifan’s heart is going to burst.
Yifan withdraws without warning, the drumming of his heart pierces through the haze and stays a loud insistent beat in the head and it’s all getting too much when he realises exactly what it is that he wants. He is hard and he knows this means he wants Chanyeol.
He forces it all back, squeezes his eyes shut to push them away so he could think. Chanyeol is still lying beneath him and when Yifan’s eyes flit open, he sees him and Chanyeol is everything, all at once. He steals away all coherent thoughts. Chanyeol looks confused, dazed, breathless and happy. But it’s the naivety in his eyes that gets Yifan. And no matter how cynical and jaded Yifan will later become, this moment will always bring him to his knees. Because of this, Yifan will still think that his life has been good and it’s all been worth his while.
Chanyeol thinks he’s in love, and he thinks, Yifan is in love, too.
The year is 1949 and their world is awash with war propaganda, everything is set in black and white and there aren’t grey areas to stand in. Opinions are absolute. If you’re not right, that just means you’re wrong.
Chanyeol, however, stands on the fence and demands love.
★
/inserts sad shit
wrote this in one night and the drive died the next morning when i woke up. gave up on this for many reasons. one of them being sad endings and i hate sad endings. another being tons of research and i found myself googling Strange Stuff
not beta-ed
★
Yifan kind of misses the days when he couldn’t speak much Korean. It is then that Chanyeol develops the habit of being quiet only around him. They are seated beside each other in class and Chanyeol despite the obvious difficulties, is hell bent on becoming friends with the new Chinese boy in class. He adjusts his hat and polishes the school crest on it with fierce determination. At first, he talks really loudly to Yifan, as if that will help get his message across, although he’s still speaking Korean.
“Maybe he’s just deaf,” Chanyeol insists stubbornly to Jongdae who knocks his right fist against his classmate’s head.
“Maybe this is empty.”
Gradually, Chanyeol stops talking and starts using sign language, which is quite redundant since his facial expressions are so rich, watching Chanyeol is like watching a movie reel unwind, images being flung everywhere. Then he progresses to tapping Yifan’s forearm as a means of communication, as if it’s their own private Morse code. His teacher said it was used in the last world war. This is also a war of sorts, Chanyeol guesses.
Tapping twice on Yifan’s arm, Chanyeol says, “This means yes.” Then he taps four times and declares, “This means no.” Pleased with himself, Chanyeol then pushes his chair to beside Yifan’s and slings an arm around his shoulder, the brass buttons on his black blazer digging into Yifan’s back.
“What this mean?” Yifan cocks a brow and points to Chanyeol arm.
“This means you’re my best friend.” The grin on Chanyeol’s face threatens to eclipse Yifan’s world. He never had a friend before. He also never had someone shamelessly announcing himself as his best friend on the third day they know each other. Although the move is very heart-warming, it is still rather shameless.
“Chingu,” Yifan mutters, the warmth from Chanyeol clings persistently onto his skin. Looking utterly delighted, Chanyeol taps his finger twice on Yifan’s arm. That’s Chanyeol - from the first day that Yifan knows him - so open to love that Yifan has always wanted to wrap his arms back around him and close him to all the pain love inevitably brings.
Chanyeol insists on using their code, even when Yifan tells him in lopsided Korean a year later, “My Korean now better.”
Smiling gently, Chanyeol taps Yifan’s wrist twice, then he pauses. Flutters his fingers playfully above pale skin before tapping five times on Yifan’s fluffy cheek, three times, another set of five, Yifan loses count then, when he gazes into Chanyeol’s bright eyes, their ends folding softly into his temples when he smiles for Yifan. His eyes are so clear, free of secrets and worry. Yifan wishes he could keep them like this forever, even though he already knows nothing lasts forever. But he can protect Chanyeol for a long time. A long, long time. That would be good.
Back then, Chanyeol is the pretty Korean boy who sits beside him at the back of class and invents their private code when they weren’t able to converse in a common language. With clumsy fingers, Chanyeol crafts the bridge that would lead him to Yifan, and together, they’d walk many bridges. It’s just that some bridges are not meant to be crossed, but when people crave too much for something, they tend to think that the impossible could be possible.
For a brief period in Yifan’s life, Chanyeol brings him incredible happiness.
★
The word ‘war’ is on everyone’s lips and people are afraid. They haven’t even recovered from the previous war but what can Chanyeol and Yifan do? They are teenagers. They step on yellowing flyers that fall from walls, sidestep protests on the way to school and head to wherever their paths sway.
Last column from the right, last row, first and second seats, where Yifan and Chanyeol sat beside each other throughout high school. Days are stringed easily into years. Insults are hand-carved onto their desks with penknives and Jongdae manages to squeeze in a 김종대24081949 but unfortunately gets caught by the teacher and is clubbed on the ass.
By his third year in South Korea and final year of high school, Yifan’s Korean is pretty fluent already and he learns that the strange symbols Chanyeol has been carving onto his desk are musical notes. That might be because his mom has been sending him for piano lessons though. Yifan would rather spend his afternoons in school, sprawled over his table, listening to the hum of life and waiting for that familiar touch on his arm.
Tap, tap.
Yifan’s head swiveled around to look at Chanyeol who’s pointing at the large ♬ he has tattooed onto the desk. “Music,” says Chanyeol, before he starts nodding his head to a beat no one else can hear and air guitars emotionally. When he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth so wide Yifan can see his uvula, his best friend holds up a hand to shield himself from the attack, “I have done nothing wrong to deserve your singing.”
Scowling, Chanyeol snaps his jaw shout and says, “Guitar.”
“Chanyeol, you know I can speak complete sentences by now, don’t you?” Yifan mumbles lazily, hand on his chin as he glances at Chanyeol.
“I don’t know, Yifan,” Chanyeol mumbles with the air of someone who’s summoning great patience from his being and Yifan is already beginning to grin, “it’s just hard to tell when you always think you’re too broody for words.” He sends the girls who are gathered outside their classroom a condescending smirk, and gives their pigtails and skirts that fall below the knee the once-over. “Your stupid face, I wonder why some people like it so much.” Narrowing his eyes, Chanyeol leans closer to Yifan and pretends to survey his face critically. Yifan lets him do that because it’s Chanyeol. Chanyeol is safe and secure. Two years of friendship, a lifetime of good.
His shoulder is pressing into Yifan’s, just as warm and reassuring as the first time he threw an arm around Yifan. Indulging himself, Yifan lies pliant against him, savoring the feeling of having Chanyeol near, before he pulls away discreetly, careful not to hurt anyone’s feelings. He already knows he can't make himself stay away, so restraint becomes something very important.
Yifan likes it when Chanyeol is close, even though he knows boys shouldn’t be this close. But Chanyeol is prettier than a lot of the girls in school. Chanyeol makes him laugh. Chanyeol has invented a code to unlock Yifan’s heart.
Boys shouldn’t be this close to each other but Chanyeol makes him happy. Is this a bad thing?
Yifan stares at the school uniform Chanyeol is wearing. White short sleeved shirt and grey pants, name sewn in black thread above the pocket, just like the one he’s wearing. He frowns. Chanyeol frowns, too. “What?” he asks quietly, calming Yifan down by patting his arm, not knowing he’s both poison and antidote.
They don’t do this two years ago. The tapping has escalated into touches, hands brush alongside each other, sometimes his hand finds its way onto Chanyeol’s thigh when they are sitting side by side and chatting. When a stray bang falls into Chanyeol's eyes, it's only second nature to Yifan to lift a finger and sweep it away. The smile on Chanyeol's face always encourages him but Yifan would rather he not do that.
It’s not conscious, just familiarity around friends. What’s foreign is that wistful smile on Chanyeol’s face a year ago when he tapped Yifan’s cheek. That look of trust and fondness on his face. No, actually, that expression has grown familiar too. What’s strange is the pain that wells up in his chest at the mere thought of it.
The very first time Chanyeol had that look on his face, he had been handing out his heart like it’s not worth anything at all. Yifan expected a question from Chanyeol but nothing came. It was as if Chanyeol just wanted to tell a secret but would not ask for another in return. He’s always understanding towards Yifan like that, even though Yifan thinks that Chanyeol is the one who needs his protection. But character is something that’s stitched across the heart, not decorated on the sleeve. You don’t need to look strong in order to be strong.
And now, he takes Chanyeol’s hand and enfolds it within his grasp. It’s almost as large as his. Chanyeol doesn’t wear skirts but Yifan likes him anyway. Everything that feels right is wrong. It’s scary. From the corner of his eye, he sees a classmate looking in their direction and he hastily drops the hand and grabs his briefcase instead. “I’ve got to go, the chauffeur’s waiting.” The corners of Chanyeol’s mouth go down ever so slightly and before he can stop himself, Yifan already has a hand curled against the softness of Chanyeol’s cheek. It is simply instinct to be near Chanyeol. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. There are too many things to apologize for at the same time. Yifan is sorry that he held Chanyeol’s hand and he’s sorry, too, for not holding his hand.
Chanyeol nods and closes his eyes, listening to Yifan’s departure, letting the heat on his cheek dissipates until nothing’s left, but forgiveness.
★
The next day, Yifan presents Chanyeol with a guitar. He gasps and runs eager fingers along the brown leather guitar case before he quickly hands it back to Yifan, careful not to let any teachers see him with it, lest they snatch it from him. Yifan is different; Yifan is older than everyone by two years, Yifan can bring a guitar to school without gathering the wrong kind of attention, Yifan can stride through the gates even when he’s late, Yifan’s father is a Chinese ambassador. They don’t like the Chinese, they’re in cahoots with the other Korea. But everyone is still afraid of Yifan and Chanyeol is his only friend. It's amazing how he did that, just barged in one day and drove all the loneliness away.
“How did you get it?” he hisses to Yifan, who just smiles. No one has the money for frivolous things like this nowadays, every bit is going to the preparations for war. All Yifan did, however, is to ask about it when his piano teacher dropped by for lessons and he was presented with one. He took it without feeling sorry, the piano teacher will get far more when he seeks a reward from his father. “Let’s go to the park after school!” The shine on Chanyeol’s face is extremely pleasing. Yifan is still sorry for what happened yesterday, so he resists tugging on Chanyeol’s floppy ears and nods instead.
★
Chanyeol fails miserably at playing the guitar, those hands that are almost the size of Kris’ couldn’t master the F chord. “Who told you I wanted a guitar?” he glowers at Yifan who beams and pats his cheeks. The summer breeze drifts by and a leaf floats down gently to rest on the top of Chanyeol’s head. They are sitting side by side on a flight of stairs in the park and no one is looking when Yifan leans forward to pick the leaf out from Chanyeol’s hair. No one is going to notice the lack of distance between them, so suddenly, Yifan finds himself getting too close. The creases of Chanyeol’s lids are deep, and his lashes long, but when Chanyeol drops his eyes and bites his lower lip, Yifan can look nowhere else but at his mouth. Wholly mesmerized, he fits a hand on the slope of Chanyeol’s jaw and pulls his lip free with a thumb. Chanyeol’s lips look soft and Yifan wants to kiss them pink. Once the idea is seeded in his head, Yifan is consumed with an overwhelming desire to satisfy himself. This is what happens when a person holds himself back from an addiction for too long a time. He overindulges.
Yifan’s head tilts to an angle that would fit them together and all he’s aware of now is the fierce beat of his heart and the wild need to be even closer. A hand finds its way to Chanyeol’s back and he’s now in Yifan’s arms, their breaths on each other’s cheeks, but still not close enough. Yifan forgets to ask, but Chanyeol gives him confidence anyway, when he peers up from lowered lashes and the look on his face tells Yifan he’s going to allow this. It’s the same trust that Chanyeol has always given to Yifan and it wakes him up a little. He tries to tell Chanyeol that this is wrong, this is too dangerous, as if Chanyeol had no idea. His lips hover over Chanyeol's, breath hot and skin tingling, but it's that maddening restraint all over again when all he wants to do is to crash into Chanyeol and burn with him. Yifan shudders and grinds his forehead against Chanyeol's, his eyes seal shut and his breathing is reduced to harsh pants. The longing is unbearable.
But what Chanyeol needs isn't Yifan's protection. He doesn't give him time to hesitate, he falls right into Yifan.
When Chanyeol's eyes close, Yifan thought he saw something slip out from them, the conclusion to two years of waiting. Then their lips touch and Yifan realises he has waited just as long, his yearning just as strong, and Chanyeol cannot possibly be wrong for him.
They are too young, they don’t even know how to kiss, there’s too much teeth but Chanyeol clings onto Yifan’s collar and pulls him in even closer, as if he’s desperate and drowning. Breathing heavily, Yifan pushes Chanyeol down instead, until his back hits the edge of a step and Yifan’s head shifts to kiss Chanyeol from another angle, lips now sliding smoothly against his. They are already learning how to kiss. It is crazy but Yifan wants more, he doesn’t know what to do, however, just runs his hands along the sides of Chanyeol’s body, gasps when his tongue touches Chanyeol’s by accident, keeps taking and taking. The intimacy is mind-blowing, they have never been so close to another person before, have never touched another like this. Chanyeol is everywhere and Yifan’s heart is going to burst.
Yifan withdraws without warning, the drumming of his heart pierces through the haze and stays a loud insistent beat in the head and it’s all getting too much when he realises exactly what it is that he wants. He is hard and he knows this means he wants Chanyeol.
He forces it all back, squeezes his eyes shut to push them away so he could think. Chanyeol is still lying beneath him and when Yifan’s eyes flit open, he sees him and Chanyeol is everything, all at once. He steals away all coherent thoughts. Chanyeol looks confused, dazed, breathless and happy. But it’s the naivety in his eyes that gets Yifan. And no matter how cynical and jaded Yifan will later become, this moment will always bring him to his knees. Because of this, Yifan will still think that his life has been good and it’s all been worth his while.
Chanyeol thinks he’s in love, and he thinks, Yifan is in love, too.
The year is 1949 and their world is awash with war propaganda, everything is set in black and white and there aren’t grey areas to stand in. Opinions are absolute. If you’re not right, that just means you’re wrong.
Chanyeol, however, stands on the fence and demands love.
★
/inserts sad shit