Author: Anonymous until 1/30/14
Word Count: 11,382
Summary: As a new writer, Kyungsoo finds himself stuck in a slump where inspiration is hard to find. But he thinks Baekhyun may be it. Writers!AU
Warnings: brief mention of sexual content
Kyungsoo has never favored the rain.
Most writers await rain, conjuring up their brightest ideas from the sound of water spattering away outside or trickling down windows.
Someone once told him that rain is soothing in a way of its own. It’s vulnerable and sporadic, never letting the weather forecasters to accurately predict when it will occur.
Rain also shows different kinds of people. There are people who bustle through the streets with an umbrella attached to their head, unaware of those surrounding them, instead chattering away on their phone. There are people who are noticeably unprepared for the rain, running with their flimsy bag covering the crown of their head. There are people who stop under awnings, sitting and watching the rain come pelting down until it clears.
Then there are people like Kyungsoo, who dislike the rain.
Even from indoors, Kyungsoo hates hearing the sound of rain sloshing through the roads as cars drive by and people only focused on themselves. How rain is inconsistent always leaves him frazzled and unprepared.
He sees nothing beautiful about it. It only brings him wet clothes and days that make it infinitely harder to get up and enjoy his day. It never inspires him; it leaves him more unfocused and staring at a blank document through the entirety of the shower.
It only took one day for Kyungsoo to consider changing his thoughts on the rain. And it was the day he met Byun Baekhyun.
Despite how tidy Kyungsoo is, he is actually very forgetful. He again overlooked the forecast for today and now is stuck in the pouring rain without an umbrella.
He has his hands full with his bags of groceries, the tops overflowing because he insisted that the bagger could fit it all in four bags. His apartment is only blocks away, but he knows he is not going to make it without any damage to his goods.
Kyungsoo pulls at the sides of his jacket, using them to cover the tops of the bags so his apples won’t suffer in the downpour. With a deep brath, Kyungsoo bravely steps out into the rain with his head down, and strides towards his complex.
It only takes a minute for his vision to cloud, and he nearly runs into some straggling people headed on their way to work. He stutters an apology, but the people continue onward, on with their lives as if they don’t have a moment to spare.
The wind starts to kick in and the strings of his jacket hit him squarely in the eye. Kyungsoo winces. He can feel the sting in his eye, as he moves over to the side, pressing himself against the exterior of a café. In the distant he can hear thunder strike and it sends a shiver down Kyungsoo’s back as the deluge covers the city.
The weight of his groceries start to take a toll on his arms, and maybe he shouldn’t have bought patbingsu ingredients no matter how good it sounded. Kyungsoo shrugs off the bags, dropping them onto the cement and plopping down next to them. He ends up sitting a puddle and again, he remembers why he hates the rain.
The handles of the grocery bags start shaking vigorously in the wind. Kyungsoo, being the anal person he is, gathers them near his feet, clutching onto them as he avoids the droplets of water a foot in front of him.
Internally, Kyungsoo curses the rain. After many days of pent up stress from having a writer’s block, he had finally written down some ideas he dreamt up overnight. And now, he is stuck huddled under a roof with his groceries and the ice for his patbingsu is melting away-
“Do you need some help?”
Kyungsoo cranes his head upward, greeted by a stranger who has cheerful eyes, probably too cheerful considering the weather. To say he is smiling down at Kyungsoo would also be an understatement; he’s beaming at him, and it almost makes it hard for Kyungsoo to look directly at his face without squinting his eyes.
Eventually, when Kyungsoo finds himself not being blinded, he gets a good look at the boy’s face. He’s handsome, with almost golden hair and bright eyes and his noticeably attractive smile; Kyungsoo somehow feels intrigued by him.
“What?” He responds, dazed. The male crouches down beside him, holding his umbrella above his head. Kyungsoo hadn’t even noticed, but the umbrella is hot pink.
A laugh bubbles out of the stranger’s throat, gesturing towards the bags of groceries scattered around Kyungsoo. “Would you like some help with your bags?” He offers. The edge of his mouth tilts up, forming into a small, closed smile. Kyungsoo notes that when he smiles, his eyes scrunch up.
There is not even a chance to respond before the other male is scooping the groceries into his arms and standing up from the ground. Kyungsoo stumbles as he tries to follow, almost plopping back down onto the pavement and just barely misses toppling on his croissants.
“Lead the way,” the other male muses, chuckling at Kyungsoo’s antics. He’s pulled underneath the umbrella quite forcefully. It causes Kyungsoo to trip and makes him flush subtly when the two of them are basically pressed together under the small roof of protection.
Kyungsoo looks up; he can see his apartment tower a few blocks away. Seeing all this rain, he hopes he didn’t leave his windows open. “It’s this way,” he points out the building where he lives.
The stranger nods, poking his head out from under the umbrella. “It looks like the rain isn’t going to let up any time soon, so we should move quickly.” He grins down at Kyungsoo. “Okay?” He mumbles a ‘yeah’ before they both push against the rain, moving along with the other people roaming through the city’s streets.
As they progress, it becomes obvious that this person standing beside Kyungsoo is not like any other person he has ever met. No one else on the streets has nearly a vibrant umbrella as he does. They are walking in a sea of grey, black, and navy blue; even the sky lacks the beautiful blue color that Kyungsoo basks in normally. Every single face they pass by is either frowning or frustrated, all except the person who is next to Kyungsoo.
“You have so many items,” the other comments, surveying Kyungsoo’s goods thoughtfully. “Do you live with someone else?”
He’s smiling again. This time, Kyungsoo also notices that his eyelashes are quite long, almost longer than some females’. “Ah, no. I live alone.”
“Girlfriend?” He inquires, and Kyungsoo is baffled at how social the boy actually is. Kyungsoo shakes his head, deciding to keep his gaze fixated on the cement. His favorite sneakers are soaking wet, the holes in the soles of his shoes allowing water to seep in and dampen his socks. “I see,” the other acknowledges, ushering Kyungsoo through the crosswalk.
They walk in silence for a while, but that doesn’t stop Kyungsoo from sneaking curious glances at his companion. He’s not dressed in an expensive manner or entirely too lazy, just a simple, casual outfit suited on a day like today. It makes Kyungsoo wonder what he does for a living.
Lost in thought, Kyungsoo almost passes by his apartment building. He pulls the other off to the side, squeaking when he slips in the water. Luckily, it seems the other has better balance than Kyungsoo has ever had and laughs it off. “Is this your place?” The boy questions, leaning back to stare at the bricks and giving a low whistle. “It’s nice. Really nice.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t reply, instead answering, “I didn’t catch your name.”
The other male looks down, confused. “Does it really matter?”
“Of course it does!” Kyungsoo exclaims. He can see that the other is startled by the way his eyes widen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything. I just thought it would be nice if I could properly thank the person who helped me.”
Incredulously, the other boy continues to stare, not uttering a word. “I mean, I guess if you don’t want to no one is really forcing you-“
Then, the stranger breaks out into giggles, laughing into his fist. He even ruffles Kyungsoo’s hair like he’s some sort of kid. This guy can’t be any more than a couple of years older than him, Kyungsoo thinks. The nerve.
“You’re cute.” He grins, laughing again as Kyungsoo becomes flustered. “You’re getting so worked up over my name. I hope you know you didn’t offer me yours either.”
Oh. Kyungsoo murmurs, embarrassed, “Kyungsoo. Do Kyungsoo.”
A hand runs through his hair and ruffles it up again. Kyungsoo really wish he’d stop doing that, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell him. Not when he’s smiling so happily at Kyungsoo. “Byun Baekhyun at your service.”
There’s familiarity in the name, but Kyungsoo knows he hasn’t seen Baekhyun ever before in his life; it is almost impossible to forget a face like his. “Maybe next time you’ll invite me into that nice apartment of yours.” Baekhyun grins.
Kyungsoo nods, not quite being able to trust his own voice. Baekhyun’s grin stretches across his face, “I’ll be expecting to hear from you soon then.” He sets the bags he was carrying down gently and flashes Kyungsoo a smile before he’s off, pushing against the strong downpour.
Kyungsoo watches until Baekhyun and his hot pink umbrella disappear within the crowd of people, and once again everything becomes monochromatic. Baekhyun’s promise of meeting again rings through his ears, and he’s left dumbfounded once he realizes that he has no way of contacting him.
He’s only left with a name: Byun Baekhyun.
No matter how hard Kyungsoo tries to push away the name Byun Baekhyun from his head, his mind seems to always trail back to it. A few days after their encounter, Kyungsoo finds himself sitting on his sofa, staring at the ceiling and attempting to search through his mind to figure out where he heard the name. The only real results he gets is that his ceiling looks worn-out and could use a fresh coat of paint soon.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo sees his laptop buried underneath stacks of loose paper and a handful of novels that sparked his interest. He sighs, reaching for his laptop with much doubt on his mind. The name may sound familiar, but the Internet is unlikely to have the answer. Baekhyun is probably a friend of a friend whom someone had mentioned before in his presence. But once Kyungsoo has something set in his mind, it won’t go away until he solves the issue. He types the name into the search engine.
The name Byun Baekhyun gives him three hundred thousand results.
As he scrolls down, Kyungsoo sees a link to a profile for a writer who has the name Byun Baekhyun. Intrigued, Kyungsoo clicks on the link, startled when the image of the Baekhyun he met days before is staring back at him.
Kyungsoo discovers that Byun Baekhyun is indeed a writer, a fairly well-known one at that; one of his novels managed to reach the best-seller list, an accomplishment that Kyungsoo has only dreamed of. His list of publications consists of only two novels but numerous poems. Kyungsoo recognizes the title of a book that has a compilation of many writers’ poems; in fact, Kyungsoo remembers he owns the book and was rather pleased by some of the pieces, for he could never be a poet himself.
Poetry, Kyungsoo finds, is elegant. Poetry is beautiful. All of the words are carefully hand-picked, capturing raw emotion and expresses characters not through words but actions or underlying emotions, and there is never a need for dialogue.
Kyungsoo himself can only write stories; he needs dialogue and character interaction. He was never very good at discovering hidden meanings in objects or symbolism. He prefers creating worlds of fantasy or telling tales of young love.
He sets down his laptop, not even bothering to close it as he strides over to his bookshelf, picking up his copy of the book that was listed. He leafs through the pages, looking for Baekhyun’s works hidden in between other’s writing pieces.
He shifts his attention at the short poem typed under Baekhyun’s name. Most poems rely on appeal with the title, but Baekhyun’s poem is untitled. It’s just a simple poem composed of three stanzas, about four or five lines per stanza.
Kyungsoo sits down, sprawling himself out onto his sofa, his sock-covered feet pressed into the cushions with the book nestled in his lap. And he reads.
The next time he sees Baekhyun, it’s cloudy, no hints of rain in the depths of the sky.
When Kyungsoo needs a break, he walks down to the Chinese food restaurant connected to a coffee shop, where he can lounge in the chairs flipping through the thin pages of magazines or scribbling down ideas in his yellow college-ruled notebook. The best part about it all is that unlike the other shops around the area, it lacks the hustle and bustle and the people aren’t in a rush, opting to settle down into the plush chairs.
His favorite spot lies in the corner of the coffee shop, giving him a clear view of the variety of customers that flock inside for Chinese cuisine. Like always, he sits with a cappuccino in his hand with a soft scarf wrapped around his neck.
Kyungsoo looks down at the notebook he brought with him, staring at the few at the items he needs to pick up from the store and vague ideas he wrote down, before he feels hot breath in his ear. “Boo.”
It startles Kyungsoo enough to have him gripping the sides of his chair, cursing when some of his coffee spills. He mourns over the loss and the coffee stains that will embed in his dark wash jeans. He tilts his head upward, and there Baekhyun is, flashing a smile at him, looking as chipper as the day they met. The glare that Kyungsoo wears does not threaten Baekhyun apparently, if only it invites him to take a seat across from him, stretching out his legs comfortably and shrugging off his tweed coat.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Baekhyun quips. Kyungsoo nods, adjusting uncomfortably due to the stickiness that sits on his pants. He reaches over to his cup of water, pulling out an ice cube and dabs it thoroughly over the spot.
Kyungsoo frowns, “You never told me you were a writer.”
Baekhyun laughs, blinking innocently as he leans forward. There’s a twinkle in his eye. “Always worried about the details.” He makes a ‘tsk’, clucking his tongue playfully. Curiosity pokes at Baekhyun for him to peer over, blatantly trying to catch a view of Kyungsoo’s notes. “Are those ideas for a story?”
Kyungsoo sputters as he turns the paper away from his sight. “It’s none of your business.” He pauses, and then it occurs to him, “How did you know I was writing?”
With a raised eyebrow, Baekhyun says, “A writer who isn’t even aware of other writers within the same publishing company; I am quite disappointed in you, Soo.” Kyungsoo’s eyebrow twitches unknowingly at the nickname. “You definitely look like the type of person to try to learn everyone’s name. Hm.”
That’s right; Kyungsoo had only finally been signed to a publishing company just a little over a month ago. He had been so roped in producing some form of writing that he hadn’t even bothered learning the names of other people. “If you did some detective work,” Baekhyun continues, “I figured you would have noticed this bit of information. And if you did search hard enough, you would have known that if I weren’t a writer, I would be a detective. So, I happened to do some digging of my own on you.”
He’s skeptical about it, but Baekhyun grins haughtily, “Really.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to respond, so he chooses to keep silent, staring down at his handwriting. The page is blank save for a few words.
“What do you plan to write about?” Baekhyun asks.
His gaze fixates on the page as he responds, “I don’t know.”
Something passes over Baekhyun’s features that Kyungsoo can’t catch. Disbelief, possibly? “What do enjoy writing?” The other tries out this time, sniffling as he crosses his arms over his chest, burying his chin into his sweater.
Now, Kyungsoo smiles, “I just enjoy writing something that is relatable. I want people to identify with my characters, put themselves in their shoes. But I want my characters to be bold, saying the things that are usually left unsaid out of fear of rejection. I want to write about a character that someone might consider a hero, not because they might have superpowers, but because of their actions and their mysteriousness. I want people to connect to my writing even if it’s only for a second. I want someone else to be able to enjoy what I enjoy doing, I don’t want to be the only one who benefits from my pleasure.”
His eyes meet Baekhyun’s, who stays silent but nods appreciatively at him. “I see.”
Baekhyun suddenly stands, brushing off his sweater. “Let’s go,” he says, winking down at Kyungsoo and laughing when Kyungsoo chokes a little. He manages to squeak out an ‘okay.’
“Where are we going?” Kyungsoo asks, reaching for his coat, and follows Baekhyun as he makes his way to the door, slinging his own jacket on skillfully.
Baekhyun pushes his way through the exit; the bell connected to the door jingle obnoxiously as he turns around just enough to throw a smile over his shoulder, “Just trust me.”
Kyungsoo can’t find it in himself to deny the request, jogging to catch up to the other. Baekhyun ends up leading him into his sleek black car and takes him to a Japanese restaurant. Apparently, Kyungsoo’s confusion is obvious (he can see Baekhyun’s eye roll) but Baekhyun simply pushes him along and up the stairs. The stairs look precarious and he holds on tightly to the railing with Baekhyun directly behind him, pestering him to move quicker. The other day in the rain, Baekhyun didn’t seem to mind moving slowly; that seems to have changed.
The second floor has nothing to do with the Japanese restaurant, Kyungsoo discovers. Instead, it’s a room filled with books stacked against the wall. It feels comfortable, right up Kyungsoo’s alley.
Baekhyun settles into a corner, picking up a book and beginning to flip through the pages aimlessly. The two stay silent for what seems like hours, reading all sorts of books, no two alike. Kyungsoo enjoys reading what others have written, but he finds it more enjoyable to look in the margins of these books where Baekhyun wrote notes. Some are questions, some words are highlighted, and some words are underlined, indicating important parts of the story.
Smiling, Kyungsoo glances up to see Baekhyun dozing off in the corner, a book nestled in his lap and a smidge of drool escaping the corner of his mouth.
And suddenly, Kyungsoo has inspiration.
It takes a couple of weeks for Kyungsoo to take notes on Baekhyun; on how he acts, his appearance – Baekhyun’s hair has already changed thrice in the month Kyungsoo has known him – and how he dresses, what his favorite things are and just a little bit of everything.
The thing is, when Kyungsoo finally feels as if he knows something new about Baekhyun, the next time he meets him, and it’s the complete opposite. One day Baekhyun will insist on him and Kyungsoo going out to dinner at a seafood restaurant because of his need for shellfish, and then the next time Kyungsoo meets him, the older claims he has never been a fan of seafood.
At first, it was a simple obstacle in the course of writing about Byun Baekhyun. But now… now it leaves Kyungsoo stunned, frustrated, and dumbfounded.
The only note he has that he can adhere too is that his name is Baekhyun, but he is not even one hundred percent sure about that anymore.
The next time they meet up, Kyungsoo just says it. “I want to write about you.”
It’s around lunchtime in the coffee shop where it’s uncommonly busy, forcing Baekhyun and Kyungsoo to sit out in the open instead of being hidden away. Despite the crowdedness, Kyungsoo still persisted to stay. It’s in his comfort zone, and he has no intention of allowing Baekhyun to always be in control of the situation.
Baekhyun casually blows on his drink, sipping out of the mug carefully. His upper lip tilts up teasingly as he quips, “Why?”
To be honest, Kyungsoo didn’t think this far ahead. “Why not?” He decides to retort instead, unconsciously pouting at the question. Baekhyun grins, flicking Kyungsoo’s pursed lips playfully with his index finger.
Baekhyun sighs. “I don’t know if you know this, because you are still yet a novice in the field of writing.” Kyungsoo pitches the fact that he is only a year younger than him, but Baekhyun blatantly ignores him as he continues his dialogue. “There is a golden rule: you can never write about other writers. It’s that simple. You don’t question it, you don’t do it, you don’t even think about it. Capiche?”
One hundred percent positive that there is no such rule within the realm of writing, Kyungsoo counters, “Why exactly not?”
Baekhyun’s smile starts to flatten out into a thin line. His eyes seem drearier; lacking that bit of mischievousness that they usually hold. “A writer shouldn’t be able to write about another writer. Just,” he begins, and Kyungsoo feels instant regret when Baekhyun chokes on his words. “Just don’t. Please.”
Kyungsoo nods, keeping his focus on his own dry hands. He wants to look at Baekhyun to make sure he didn’t offend him or just to see if he’s okay, but he can’t. Instead, he taps his toes against the floor nervously and continues shifting in his chair.
He hears Baekhyun get up without a word, and Kyungsoo manages to look up ever so slightly. Baekhyun busies himself with gathering up his things, pointedly looking everywhere besides at Kyungsoo. “I’m going.” He reaches for his cup of coffee, downing the last of it in one shot, not bothering to wipe off the smudge dribbling from his chin. “I’ll, um, talk to you soon.” He says and although it’s directed to Kyungsoo, he’s looking at the buttons on his coat.
In a second, Baekhyun is gone, leaving Kyungsoo alone with only his thoughts.
Once he arrives back home, Kyungsoo shrugs off his shoes at the entryway and heads directly to bed, sinking into the mattress. He allows the soles of his feet to dig into it, as he spreads his arms out, huffing out a large breath of air.
His thoughts draw towards Baekhyun. The incident is the first thing that pops into his head; Kyungsoo has only seen Baekhyun as bright, overconfident, obnoxious, carefree. It’s human nature, Kyungsoo stresses in his head. Still, it leaves an unsettling feeling.
It has taken months for Kyungsoo to even spring an idea of something he wants to write about, and Baekhyun is it. But with that reaction, Kyungsoo sighs, ruffling a hand through his hair and tugging at some of the longer ends.
His harmless thoughts continue to wander to Baekhyun, how he laughs, how he smiles, how he pouts at Kyungsoo when he’s upset. Mentally, Kyungsoo blushes, shaking away those feelings at the moment and focusing on the present.
Not to push the idea would be the best decision, Kyungsoo decides, as he lulls himself into sleep.
That night, Kyungsoo dreams about Baekhyun.
Of course it’s unexpected for Kyungsoo, having a dream about the other, but considering how much time he frequently spends with Baekhyun, it really shouldn’t be.
Baekhyun sits, folded neatly in the corner and taps a pen on his lower lip with a notebook perched in his lap. He looks deep in thought as his foot taps along to a silent beat, lips turned upward just enough for Kyungsoo to recognize his shy smile.
The only person in the room is Baekhyun. Kyungsoo looks on from above, smiling to himself when Baekhyun gasps in triumph as he jots down his ideas. From his view, Kyungsoo can’t see what Baekhyun is so anxiously writing down, but his facial expression makes all the difference. His smile lights up his face, as he furiously scribbles, and he bites his lip when he gets stuck writing in the middle of a sentence. It’s so Baekhyun-like that Kyungsoo feels a wave of relief wash over him. At least in his dreams Baekhyun acts okay, not off-balanced or uncomfortable.
Unlike the absurd dreams Kyungsoo usually has at night, tonight he dreams only of Baekhyun.
“That one!” Baekhyun yells, dragging Kyungsoo with his arm slung through his own, his pink cotton candy in hand. Baekhyun told him that blue cotton candy should be the bane of society while Kyungsoo paid for their cotton candy. Kyungsoo doesn’t even like cotton candy, yet he still purchased one; Baekhyun will end up eating it later.
Kyungsoo sees that their destination seems to be the pink teacups that spin around in circles. He can already feel himself getting nauseous when he sees the little girls and their mothers laugh and scream while they twirl around in the ride.
He doesn’t have the heart to tell Baekhyun no, not when he’s so enthusiastic compared to yesterday.
It’s out of the blue when Baekhyun suddenly shows up at his apartment at eight a.m. in the morning, grinning at him in his obnoxious, puffy, yellow coat. Kyungsoo rubs his eyes, hair tousled messily and sleep still stuck in his eyes. To be frank, he can barely distinguish that it’s Baekhyun aside from the fact no one else but him would own such a horrendous winter jacket.
“Let’s go,” Baekhyun chirps, pushing past Kyungsoo to draw open his curtains. The light filters through and causes Kyungsoo to turn away, accidentally hitting his head on the doorframe as he does. He groans in pain, as Baekhyun comes from behind and steers him towards his bedroom.
Resisting is useless; Kyungsoo figured that out long ago, but he still tries to dig in his heels into the wood and put up a fight. Baekhyun isn’t deterred though, just shoves Kyungsoo down onto his bed and rifle through the clothes in his closet.
Defeated, Kyungsoo sighs, closing his eyes to drift off into a little nap before getting up again.
And now he’s waiting in a line next to Baekhyun for an amusement park ride in the cold weather.
The amusement park seems dead for the most part, because it’s the middle of the day and most children are still in school. The person who runs the ride lets the people standing in line through, leaving Baekhyun tugging insistently at his arm and dragging him into a teacup that rests along the edge.
As soon as the conductor in the rabbit ears belts them in, Baekhyun grins up at him, “Isn’t this fun?”
Kyungsoo forces a smile, laughing nervously. “The best.”
Baekhyun hasn’t mentioned the previous day at all, keeping Kyungsoo feeling nervous about what can possibly occur.
The ride lurches into a start, and Kyungsoo hears Baekhyun whooping like an eight year old. Kyungsoo closes his eyes and prays for it to end quickly. He chants, “Please let it be over,” like a mantra, cringing when he feels the teacup move to the outer edge as it spins.
He cracks his eyes when his hand is suddenly warm, looking down to see Baekhyun’s hand gripping firmly onto his own. Baekhyun gives his hand a squeeze, laughing when the teacup rotates in the opposite direction. This time, Kyungsoo cracks a smile easily, joining Baekhyun’s laugh for a brief moment before he becomes too dizzy and closes his eyes once again.
A couple of minutes later, the ride slows, finally giving Kyungsoo the chance to open his eyes. Baekhyun peers directly at him, a small smile adorning his face. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes ask if he’s okay, Kyungsoo nods as he stretches his arms over head, looking around impatiently for the guy to lift this stupid bar up.
After escaping the vicinity of the pink teacups, Baekhyun hints that he wants popcorn now, claiming the ride gave him an empty stomach. Kyungsoo know it’s a lie, but he orders a medium popcorn – Baekhyun interrupts by changing it to a large – anyways.
Baekhyun chews with his mouth open every few bites, as he informs Kyungsoo about the other rides they have yet to go on. Not once though has Baekhyun mentioned the large Ferris wheel this particular amusement park is known for, or any of the rollercoasters for that matter. “What about the Ferris wheel?” Kyungsoo pitches, stuffing his face with pieces of the popcorn that aren’t coated in butter.
Baekhyun coughs on the piece currently in his mouth and reaches out for the bottle of water in front of him. He chugs it down, swallowing the mushy popcorn down his throat. “I’d rather not go on that.” Embarrassed, he shrinks in the chair, “I have acrophobia.”
Kyungsoo’s mouth forms into this weird fish shape out of embarrassment. Of course he would, he shouldn’t have asked. He’s pounding himself for being rude when Baekhyun reaches out to touch his wrist. “Is that… okay?” Baekhyun tries, a pinkish color dusting the top of his soft cheeks.
“Of course it is!” Kyungsoo bellows, scaring Baekhyun with the sudden change of tone.
Kyungsoo’s face turns into a darker shade of pink, mortified at his outburst, but Baekhyun chuckles, giving him a quick pat on his cheek. “I knew you’d understand, Soo.” His face burns at the nickname, covering his face with his cold hands and Baekhyun chucks a stale piece of popcorn at him.
“So what ride should we go on next?” Baekhyun quips, sending Kyungsoo a bright grin that he reciprocates.
It’s the second night in a row Kyungsoo dreams about Baekhyun.
This one vastly different from the dream he had the night before.
It’s early in the morning, Kyungsoo sees, his eyes groggy as he lies down in his bed, buried underneath his warm covers. The sunlight streams in through the peak of his curtains, causing him to flip over and stare directly into someone’s face.
He stares directly at Baekhyun’s sleeping face.
Kyungsoo nearly screams, but he thankfully slaps his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, then noticing he’s shirtless as well. The both of them are, shirtless and only in tight boxers that restrict the obvious tent formed in his underwear.
Shit. Even in his dreams he gets worked up over Baekhyun.
Carefully, Kyungsoo attempts to slip away, slowly lifting the sheets on his side of the bed. He’s stopped though when a thin pair of lips presses onto his neck. Frozen, Kyungsoo inhales sharply when the lips travel up to his jaw, peppering tiny pecks onto his face. He is able to crane his head just enough to see Baekhyun smiling down at him, clearly wide awake now. “Sleep well?” The Baekhyun in his dream muses.
He chokes on his words, choosing to nod instead because fuck, Baekhyun looks amazing without a shirt. And this is only a dream.
Baekhyun leans down again to continue his kisses, adjusting Kyungsoo so he’s facing him once again, bodies pressed against one another. His grin is childish, Kyungsoo studies as Baekhyun pulls away. Baekhyun wraps a free arm around his waist, nuzzling Kyungsoo’s cheek affectionately.
It’s becoming hard for Kyungsoo to breathe regularly, as it hitches in his throat when Baekhyun shyly palms Kyungsoo through his underwear, tugging at his morning erection playfully. The groan that escapes him earns him a smirk. “Always so eager in the morning,” Baekhyun teases, planting a firm kiss on his jaw.
What kind of dream is this, Kyungsoo wonders when he feels Baekhyun’s own hardness against his thigh.
Baekhyun’s hand runs along the waistband of his underwear, murmuring into Kyungsoo’s ear, “I love you like this the most.” Ever so slightly, the tips of Baekhyun’s fingers slip past the band, moving down towards his cock and-
Kyungsoo jolts awake, sweating profusely through the thin fabric of his shirt. He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated when he sees his cock almost peeking out the top of his boxers. Moaning, he grabs his pillow, proceeding to shove his face in it as he lies back down, cursing himself for having such an intimate dream.
After having that dream, Kyungsoo starts to dwell on Baekhyun more than usual. More specifically, his lips, his hands, and once in a while he finds himself staring at Baekhyun’s ass or crotch as he sways by (and yes, Kyungsoo noted that Baekhyun’s hips do sway).
It’s not healthy, the way he’s staring at Baekhyun’s lips right now even though he should be watching the movie that Baekhyun pleaded on watching. The title of the movie escapes him, and he doesn’t think he’s watched a solid five minutes of the film without drifting back over to Baekhyun. Something causes Baekhyun to laugh, and ever so subtly after laughing, his tongue darts out, slowly licking his upper lip.
Definitely not healthy.
“Soo?” Kyungsoo snaps out of his train of thought, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes for once. Baekhyun has always had nice eyes. “You okay?”
Kyungsoo smiles nervously. “Of course. Why?”
Baekhyun juts out his lower lip. “Surprisingly, you’re zoning out on me. Is it because of my good looks?” He poses with his index finger and thumb outlining the shape of his chin, completely in a playful manner but Kyungsoo gulps, feeling entirely too guilty. “Or not?” Baekhyun whistles lowly.
He begins tapping his chin thoughtfully, and Kyungsoo ends up staring at his hand. He’s reminded of that hand, palming him through his underwear in that dream and-
“I know!” Baekhyun slaps Kyungsoo’s arm, cackling to himself. “You finally have an idea for your novel! I’m right, aren’t I?”
Flustered, Kyungsoo hopes Baekhyun misses the twitch his mouth makes. “How did you know?”
The other’s eyes light up, almost as eager as puppy. “Sometimes I think you forget that I’m a writer as well.” Baekhyun’s hand comes up, resting gently on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, stroking it encouragingly. “I’m sure whatever is running through your mind will be a hit.”
A half-hearted smile flickers on his face out of gratefulness and betrayal. The only thing Kyungsoo could possibly be close to writing is a porn novel, with all of the thoughts of Baekhyun lowering his head to his crotch, pulling aside his clothing as he wraps his lips around him.
Kyungsoo shivers. He really needs to stop thinking about that.
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