vixxo: (baeksoo)
sitting, waiting, wishing ([personal profile] vixxo) wrote2014-02-02 09:56 am

a pen needs a page; oneshot

a pen needs a page
baekhyun/kyungsoo | pg-13 | 11,366 words
warnings: brief mention of sexual content
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
a/n: written for thebaekfest and originally posted here.



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.

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.”

“Really?”

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.





Instead of trying to capture Baekhyun’s personality and putting it down on paper, Kyungsoo copies all the things he likes about Baekhyun.

Baekhyun’s personality is ever changing, but he still sneaks in his a thousand watt grin no matter the occasion. One strand of hair always seems to go rogue no matter what hairstyle he tries out, causing Baekhyun to frown as he wets it down, disgruntled when it still sticks up. He has never mentioned it before, but Kyungsoo noticed that he carries around a small notepad with him, recording down whatever comes to him at the moment.

He envisions a smiling Baekhyun. One where his eyes crinkles when he laughs too hard or when his nose scrunches up when holding back a sneeze. The image of Baekhyun that Kyungsoo familiarizes himself with the most.

Kyungsoo stares at the half of page that isn’t nearly as full. On the top he wrote ‘negative points about Byun Baekhyun’, yet he only has a few. How he calls him Soo without permission, or how he decides what they are doing and when, not bothering to ask about Kyungsoo’s schedule whatsoever. Honestly, as Kyungsoo looks at the small list, these offenses are relatively minor compared to the positives flooding on the other side.

It’s when he receives a call from a bar that Kyungsoo sees to Baekhyun.

The clock reads 2:12 a.m. when he hears the phone ringing, shaking Kyungsoo out from the beginning of his sleep. He was restless anyway, finally climbing into bed around one, staring at the ceiling before he managed to shut his eyes.

But now that’s over.

Aimlessly, he searches for his cell phone, fumbling around on his nightstand. He accidentally grabs his deodorant instead, growling as he chucks it to the floor before getting a hold of the right thing.

It’s the number for some bar that he’s heard of once but never visited; Kyungsoo answers hesitantly, “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Soo?” The person on the other end questions the name, and Kyungsoo would too if he was in his position.

The only person who calls him that is Baekhyun. “I guess.”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you this early in the morning, but we happen to have Byun Baekhyun down here with us, and it’s safe to say he’s drunk. Your number happened to be first in his priority contacts, so we figured we’d give you call and see if you can come pick him up.”

He calls a cab as soon as he hangs up the phone, shrugging on his winter jacket and slipping into some decent looking pajama bottoms. The pants are light blue with clouds on them, and he probably looks very disheveled with his messy hair, but he can’t bring himself to care and heads out the door in them anyway.

When he gets outside, it’s raining. Just his luck he thinks as he opens the door, stepping inside quickly. The cab driver gives him a strange look at his appearance but doesn’t make a comment, which he’s grateful for.

The bar feels stuffy, packed with people. Many of them reek of alcohol but have someone draped across their shoulder, dragging them out or monitoring them. Kyungsoo dislikes getting drunk, and he doesn’t understand the feeling of letting loose, as people have told him in the past. Sure, he can drink a beer when he’s with a group of friends, but nothing like this.

It’s actually easy to spot Baekhyun, his face lying down on top of the bar counter, completely alone besides the bartender cleaning off glasses from behind.

Kyungsoo approaches, noticing that drool has dribbled down Baekhyun’s chin, while his hand still clutches a half-filled glass of vodka. His breath smells like alcohol, and his white shirt has a stain on it now.

The guy behind the bar looks over at him. “Are you the Soo guy?” Once he nods, the other pulls a phone out of his pocket, handing it over to him. “Here’s his phone. He tried to throw it across the room a couple of times, so I took it before it could, you know, break.”

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo says. The guy waves him off, as he walks to the other side of the room, helping out someone else.

With Baekhyun passed out, Kyungsoo takes the chance to look at his phone and see if he can find his address somewhere. Accidentally, he clicks on the contacts button and sees his name saved as ‘Soo~ ♡.’ Blushing, Kyungsoo exits the contacts and hunts for his address, gurgling incoherently every couple of seconds.

At his side, Baekhyun slowly rouses out of his sleep, yawning loudly. His eyes flutter open, blinking a few times before he grins up at Kyungsoo. “Soo yah!” Baekhyun squeals, throwing his arms out and hugging Kyungsoo to him, the contents of his glass spilling out onto his jeans. “I missed you so much!”

Kyungsoo lightly pushes him away. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Baekhyun starts giggling, “Soo, you’re so cute when you’re trying to be authoritative.” The end of his sentence slurs, as he pokes Kyungsoo in the chest twice. “Why don’t you stay a while? Drink with me!”

Baekhyun waggles his finger, trying to summon the bartender over to him, but Kyungsoo captures his hand, bringing it back down. “Baekhyun, hyung, you’re drunk. Let’s just go.”

“I’m not-“ Baekhyun nearly topples out of his chair, and Kyungsoo scrambles to catch him before he hits the ground. He regains his posture, remarking, “I am not drunk. Byun Baekhyun gets nothing more than tipsy! If that! Ha!” He’s basically shouting now, earning looks from other people in the bar, and the last he wants is to draw unwanted attention.

Kyungsoo winces, giving a sharp tug once more to Baekhyun’s arm. “You’re ruining all the fun, Soo! Sit down, have a drink! It’s on me, I swear.” He pats the stool next to him for good measure, pulling at Kyungsoo’s jacket.

With a sigh, Kyungsoo sits down, watching as Baekhyun giggles childishly at him. Kyungsoo coughs, “You can’t stay here. You have a draft to be working on right now. Come on.”

Something in Baekhyun’s eyes changes, leading him to glare at Kyungsoo as he scoffs. “Writing? I’m not a writer.”

Confused, Kyungsoo says, “Of course you are.”

Rolling his eyes, Baekhyun counters, “Of course I’m a writer. Or more like I want to be, but I’m a failure. A failure.”

“Baekhyun, what are y-“

“I haven’t been able to write in months okay? Months.” Now that stuns Kyungsoo, giving Baekhyun the chance to continue on. “Yes, I’ve been writing, but I just can’t come up with anything that is new, creative. The publishing company called my ideas ‘child’s play’ and that I should come back when I have a fucking good storyline.”

“But you’re a good writer. No, a brilliant writer.” Kyungsoo offers, “I’ve read your works. You are good, really good.”

Baekhyun smiles, “If only that were it.” He looks at him, letting Kyungsoo see how drunk he looks, but his words are genuine. “Look, the publishing company doesn’t want to talk to me for two reasons. One, because I can’t come up with shit for the life of me, and two, because I was caught sucking off a random guy.”

Kyungsoo tries to interject, but Baekhyun beats him to it. “I was desperate for money at the time. And he was just there, so I just did it. Sucked him off just like that. He paid me a good amount, but some asshole on the street recognized my face, and I can’t write freely right now, not with this scandal hanging above my head. No one wants to read the work of a failure.”

He turns his head away, fixated on his twiddling thumbs, words beginning to slur again. “Writers, we’re meant to be free you know? But in reality, we’re just like everyone else. Stuck.”

His eyes are distant now, staring at the wooden floors that run along the bar’s ground. The silence is deafening, but Kyungsoo lets it slide as a tear runs down Baekhyun’s face. Suddenly, tears are falling much more quickly, streaking the tops of his cheeks and dribbling onto his jutted lips. Kyungsoo leans in, quietly wiping away his tears with his sleeve of his jacket, as Baekhyun continues to cry silently. And Kyungsoo lets him, lets him cry to his heart’s content.

It’s a half an hour later when Kyungsoo coaxes Baekhyun out of the bar, the alcohol starting to take effect in a different manner and make him sleepy. The taxi he called for earlier waits for them, as Kyungsoo carefully slides him into the seat, buckling him in safely.

Baekhyun falls asleep in the car ride to his apartment, which is a nice twenty-minute drive from the bar. He holds onto Kyungsoo’s hand the entire drive back, and Kyungsoo allows it, stroking the back of Baekhyun’s hand with his thumb.

The rain patters against the window, streaming down almost like Baekhyun’s tear had: suddenly and quickly.

It’s the first time Kyungsoo has ever been to Baekhyun’s apartment, he realizes as soon as they arrive, the building just a few stories high and looks sad in the rain. He shakes Baekhyun’s arm, struggling to get the drowsy Baekhyun out of the cab’s seats. Regaining his energy, Kyungsoo heaves his body once, and Baekhyun slides out easier than expected.

The elevator ride is quick and leads him straight to Baekhyun’s apartment. He rummages through Baekhyun’s pockets to see if he has the door’s password written down anywhere. It’s hard ignoring the feeling bubbling up in his stomach, but it’s three a.m., and Baekhyun is nearly passed out in his arms, in a total drunk way.

With no such luck, Kyungsoo gently nudges Baekhyun. It takes a few moments before Baekhyun begins to stir, digging his nose into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. The noise he makes is close to a puppy whining, and Kyungsoo thinks it’s unbearably cute, but now is definitely not the time.

“Hyung, I need your passcode.” His eyes are open, but Baekhyun doesn’t respond, instead snuggling into his shoulder some more. “Can you tell me it?”

Into his neck, Baekhyun mumbles, “I don’t want to tell you.”

Kyungsoo sighs. “But then we’re stuck out here.”

Baekhyun crinkles his nose, pouting and leaning away from Kyungsoo, his hand reaching out towards the keypad on his door. He skillfully punches in the code despite the awkward position he’s in before curling back up into Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

Kyungsoo figures it’s best if they go in, so he heaves Baekhyun inside, pulling off his and the other’s shoes at the entrance. Baekhyun wears striped toe socks, ones he shown Kyungsoo before; it was just the two of them, sitting alone in Baekhyun’s inspiration space. Baekhyun displayed them to Kyungsoo by wiggling toes right in his face. Apparently they were the comfiest socks on the entire world and Baekhyun demanded that Kyungsoo buy a pair of his own.

He actually did buy them. Of course, without Baekhyun knowing he did. The elder male would never him live it down.

Kyungsoo cracks a smile when he sees them, lifting Baekhyun up and trying to find his bedroom. Getting Baekhyun onto his large bed proves to be a feat, but once he positions Baekhyun’s torso on the mattress, he manages to lift his lower half as well.

He props Baekhyun against the pillows, studying his face. Kyungsoo sits down on the bed, unbuttoning Baekhyun’s jacket to give him some air. In a quiet voice, he says, “I’d read anything you’d write any day. Because it’s yours.”

For just a moment, he closes his eyes, breathing in and out slowly while listening to Baekhyun’s steady breaths. The rain still falls in the background, just lightly enough to hit the window every few seconds. And for the first time, Kyungsoo actually doesn’t mind hearing the rain. Just the little dripping sounds calms him, accompanying his and Baekhyun’s breathing.

Carefully, he peals himself away, adjusting his pajama bottoms that had ridden up his ankles. He pushes aside the one curling strand of hair Baekhyun always has, but it just flops back to place.

One last time, Kyungsoo looks at Baekhyun. This time though, Baekhyun’s eyes meet his, looking fully awake with his hands tucked underneath his head. “Soo,” Baekhyun calls up at him, a closed smile formed on his lips. “Stay with me, just for tonight, okay?”

When Kyungsoo doesn’t respond, Baekhyun uses his index finger to beckon him down to his height level. Kyungsoo sits back down, getting closer to the other who frowns at the distance. He motions Kyungsoo to come even closer, so he does, and then Baekhyun leans up, pressing their lips together. It’s brief, their lips brushing on top of one another’s, but it feels good.

Before Kyungsoo even realizes what’s happened, Baekhyun has pulled away, smiling with his crescent eyes. Then, Baekhyun shuts his eyes, sliding his hands beneath the pillows.

Baekhyun spreads himself out across the entire bed, falling asleep as soon as his eyes are closed. Kyungsoo covers Baekhyun with the thin blanket hanging off the end of the bed, pausing to watch him, matching the smile set on Baekhyun’s face. Sighing, Kyungsoo shuffles out of the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.

He leans against the doorframe, thinking about what just happened and how it happened so quickly, not even giving Kyungsoo time to react to the kiss. He settles on the couch, throwing his feet on the armrest, letting his eyes fall shut.

The kiss is the last thing that lingers on his mind when he finally falls asleep.





It’s early in the morning when Kyungsoo wakes up, the stream of light glaring down into his eyes. Groaning, he sits up from the couch where he parked himself last night. His head is throbbing in pain, and all he can think about is how he could really use a cup of coffee right now.

When he finally takes a moment to scan the apartment, he sees Baekhyun watching him from the kitchen counter. His eyes droop down like he has barely gotten any sleep, and it’s probably true. Based on how bright the sun is, Kyungsoo figures it’s around nine or ten in the morning.

Gulping and gathering his courage, Kyungsoo saunters over to the counter across from Baekhyun, letting his socks drag across the wood floor. Wordlessly, Baekhyun hands him some coffee he had already prepared. He accepts it gratefully, murmuring a thank you under his breath before sipping on it lightly, careful not to burn his tongue.

The overhang of silence sits awkwardly with Kyungsoo, both of them tentatively taking small swigs from the mug, and then setting it down. Then after a few moments, they repeat.

Kyungsoo allows this to happen until he can nearly see the bottom of his mug. He frowns; it was good coffee.

“What…” Kyungsoo starts, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wants to say. He sighs, “What exactly happened last night?”

Baekhyun smirks a little, the corner of his mouth just tilting up. “You tell me. I was the one drunk off my ass.”

He’s teasing. He’s probably trying to avoid it, Kyungsoo deduces. “I’m serious here.”

Baekhyun’s intense gaze meets his, and his face becomes blank. “Do we really have to talk about it? It’s not like you’re my mother, Kyungsoo.”

Baekhyun calling him by his full name makes his stomach churn. On Baekhyun’s lips, it sounds so foreign, and Kyungsoo didn’t even realize he didn’t want to his full name like that until now.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to ask me that.” Baekhyun counters, taking both of their cups and throwing them into his dishwasher.

The answer makes Kyungsoo fume. “So what am I allowed to ask you?”

Baekhyun doesn’t have an answer to that, only looking mindlessly at his dishwasher. Restarting, Kyungsoo questions, “Do you remember anything that happened last night?”

Baekhyun’s hands come up to grip the edge of the countertop, heaving a sigh. He looks back over at Kyungsoo. “Do you really want to know?” Kyungsoo nods, staring at Baekhyun expectantly. “I remember everything. From when I got to the bar; to when that manager tried to pull me out, but couldn’t; to when you showed up and to when you brought me back here. I remember it all.”

“So you remember that you kissed me?” Kyungsoo continues. He thinks he knows the answer, but he just wants to confirm it.

Swallowing thickly, Baekhyun confesses, “I do.”

Kyungsoo notices his hands are dry. “Did it mean anything to you?”

The elder male halts. He breathes in before he focuses his attention back on Kyungsoo. “Can we not talk about it?”

“It’s kind of important hyung.” Kyungsoo eyes narrow unknowingly. When Baekhyun doesn’t even try to defend himself, Kyungsoo continues, “It’s important to me. I don’t know what it meant to you, but it meant a lot to me.”

Baekhyun seems to concentrate on everything that isn’t Kyungsoo, which just irritates the latter more. “I don’t care about your past. It’s not your present right?” He still stands, silent. Kyungsoo sighs, “Since you don’t want to talk, I think it’ll be best if I just leave.”

He gathers his things quickly; the atmosphere is becoming suffocating at a rapid rate, and Kyungsoo can’t handle it. He heads towards the door, almost tripping over his shoes as he tries to slide them on. He can feel Baekhyun’s eyes trained on him, but as soon as he wiggles on his left shoe, he heads towards the front entrance.

Kyungsoo hears Baekhyun call after him, but he pushes forward. He throws over his shoulder, “Come find me when you’re ready,” before closing the door silently behind him.





When Kyungsoo arrives back to his apartment, the first thing he does is makes his way to his bedroom. He instantly ruffles through his drawers, searching for his notebook, the one where he wrote about Baekhyun.

After digging relentlessly through his various things, he finally finds it buried underneath a scarf. He flips through the few pages he had written down information on, staring at them blankly. His fingers hover at the seam, tempted to rip them out and throw them away, but they never tear the pages out no matter how longer they inch along the crease, wanting to shred them to pieces.

He tosses the notebook back onto the table it was in, then lies back on his bed. It’s already close to five a.m., but Kyungsoo doesn’t really care about the time as he shuts his eye, breathing in and out deeply. The rain violently hits his bedroom window as he finally dozes off. It’s almost as if the rain is tapping into his emotions.

And for the first time, Kyungsoo doesn’t dream at all.





The next week passes without a word from Baekhyun.

The first day he decides to filter all thoughts of Baekhyun into the back of his mind. Kyungsoo reckons he needs his time, and he’s willing to provide nothing but time.

He became so accustomed to a bright smile and teasing comments on a regular basis, his life suddenly appears dim. And without Baekhyun, it becomes increasingly more difficult to write freely.

He spends the week working on a draft for a potential novel, but even Kyungsoo knows it’s mediocre at best. He submits the draft nonetheless, figuring it’s worth a shot after producing nothing for over a month.

And it’s no surprise when the company calls him back, instantly shooting down the idea and telling him to think of something new, plausible, and isn’t explicitly mundane. They never outright tell him that having a passion for writing isn’t the same as being a writer, but Kyungsoo knows the statement is implied.

With all the free time Kyungsoo suddenly finds he has, he works on even more outlines that come from an abundant of genres. More than half of them end up making a home in his trashcan and when the can overflows with all of the dull ideas, Kyungsoo simply crosses out anything he rejects. Still, he creates nothing decent enough to be satisfactory.

The publishing company calls a few days later while he’s eating lunch, or at least trying to get something in his stomach. Lately, everything makes him nauseous. Even the sound of something brings certain distaste to his tongue, so he opts to drink water and brew coffee.

“Anything?” The guy on the other end asks, and luckily it’s Junmyeon who doesn’t snap at him when Kyungsoo usually breaks the news that he still has next to nothing. He realizes that the company is probably just as desperate as he is right now, needing Kyungsoo to conjure up something. Although they know he can’t produce something out of thin air, pressure is still pushed on. “Anything at all? At least a plot? Maybe an idea for a character?”

A character pops into his head. Warm smile, eyes that turn into crescents when they are excited, styled hair, pink cotton candy and a pen.

There’s an unspoken ban on that one though.

“Nothing.” He hesitates, frowning when he catches the sigh on the other side of the line. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to have a novel Kyungsoo, just something. Something to let us know you’re ready. We can’t keep having you push this off. Okay?”

Kyungsoo agrees wordlessly, letting the conversation slowly drop off. “I guess,” Junmyeon starts, “I’ll hear from you soon? Hopefully with good news.”

The other male on the line has his finger over the ‘end’ button before Kyungsoo interrupts, “How’s Baekhyun?”

Another sigh. “I don’t quite know actually. He’s stopped by once earlier this week.” Well, that’s news to Kyungsoo. He doesn’t remember the last Baekhyun ever mentioned going to the company willingly.

“Do you know why?” Kyungsoo bites on his lower lip, anxious to know the answer. The promise he made to himself earlier, the one about removing all thoughts of Baekhyun at the moment, is abandoned easily. He needs to know.

“Kyungsoo, he would never tell me. And I think you know that.” Junmyeon chuckles lowly, attempting to get Kyungsoo to smile, but he can’t force it. It’s not possible.

“He’ll come around, Kyungsoo. Whatever it is you’re worried about that is.” Junmyeon is likely to be cracking a smile on the other end, just like he always does. In a teasing tone, the elder male quips, “Get some rest. I have faith in my little writer.”

Kyungsoo snorts in good measure. “You’re not that much older than me, hyung.”

Before he hangs up, he catches the short, “I know,” that Junmyeon throws in.

A minute later, his cell phone vibrates, and Kyungsoo picks it up curiously, having not received a text in over a week. It’s from Junmyeon, the only person from the publishing company who actually has his phone number. It reads Work hard my little writer. I have faith in you! ^^

His first urge is to cringe at the cheesiness, but he can’t fight the smile that etches itself onto his face no matter how hard he tries to get rid of it.

He averts his attention back to the notebook laying spread out on his cushions, and Kyungsoo thinks that maybe, just maybe he can try. For the company. For Junmyeon. For Baekhyun.

And so, he writes.





A month passes by in a flash without any contact from Baekhyun.

It’s disappointing, yes, but doable, Kyungsoo comes to realize; his focus shifts to writing, and writing something worth reading.

Soon enough, Kyungsoo reverts himself back to his favorite coffee shop, making it into his second home. Every day around eleven in the morning, he finds himself tripping out of his apartment doorway and strolling down the street towards the building it resides in. On the rainy days, Kyungsoo searches for a hot pink umbrella, but it never appears.

The more often he visits the coffee shop, the more often he can relax his muscles and his mind, sipping on whatever drink he decides on for the day wordlessly while settled in his special spot.

The young barista named Jongin always whips him up whatever he feels like making, leaving Kyungsoo pleasantly surprised by some of the drinks. Some of them leave a bitter taste on his tongue, and some are far too sweet for his taste buds, but he gives them all a shot. Occasionally, Jongin will hand him a coffee that reminds him of what Baekhyun would drink, and those are the ones Kyungsoo likes the most.

It so happens that he is not only fond of Jongin because of the variety of drinks he serves, but he’s also proving to me a good informant.

Jongin keeps him up to date on Baekhyun’s appearances in the shop as well, since he too has a special preference for this place. The only information Jongin provides though is approximately what time Baekhyun stopped by and what he ordered. All worthless in reality, but it at least lets Kyungsoo know that Baekhyun is well and functional. And Jongin cooperates happily, grinning like the child he is when Kyungsoo slips him a few extra dollars in tip.

It’s a Wednesday, and Kyungsoo arranges himself and his belongings across the span of two chairs and a coffee table. No one bothers him anyway since most people take their coffee to go, save for the three or four other people who have the same train of thought as him. He perches his feet up on the side of one of the armchairs, letting his shoeless feet dangle over it.

He brought his laptop today instead of his notebook; the last time he came, Kyungsoo accidentally spilled more than half of his coffee all over the pages, causing him to lose much of his valued writing. Making out the words he wrote down proves to be a task, but it’s possible with lots of squinting and patience.

He’s laboriously typing away before someone takes a seat directly across from him, moving his possessions aside to make room for their things. Kyungsoo blindly looks up, instantly freezing when he sees Baekhyun seated just opposite of him.

With a coffee mug in his hand and a bag slung over his shoulder, Baekhyun looks as put together as he did over a month ago. The smile that Kyungsoo missed dearly is present, along with his overly styled hair and trademark sweater he wore the first time he met Kyungsoo at this coffee shop.

Casually, Baekhyun gazes at Kyungsoo from his seat, tentatively sipping on his drink. Kyungsoo sits silently, taking this all in. He can practically hear Baekhyun gulp down his drink in this silence.

“So…” Baekhyun drawls, “what’s new?”

His left eyebrow twitches out of irritation. “I haven’t seen you in over a month and you have the nerve to ask what’s new?”

Baekhyun shrugs, keeping his casualness steady. Kyungsoo grabs the closest thing he can find, which so happens to be a pen, and chucks it at Baekhyun. He manages to scrape his cheek, smiling when Baekhyun yelps and spills a drop of coffee onto his pant leg. For a moment, he frowns down at it, as if he’s waiting for the stain to suddenly disappear, but then he brushes his pants and blows on it.

“But really, how are you?” Baekhyun asks, angling himself to have a better view of Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo doesn’t have an answer, hardly recalling what he even did yesterday. “Fine.” He says instead. “I wrote.”

Baekhyun nods out of politeness, his teeth biting down onto his lower lip. “That’s good to hear.”

“I heard you’ve been writing yourself.”

Baekhyun’s mouth flips up. “I have. Just a bit.”

“About what?”

“Oh, not much.” Baekhyun begins to mess with his fingers, tapping them repeatedly onto his thighs. “I’ve been writing out someone I’ve been inspired by.” His eyes meet Kyungsoo’s, and he watches as his grin stretches across his face. Baekhyun leans forward, reaching out to poke Kyungsoo on his nose. “And it’s you.”

Kyungsoo’s face colors immediately, and Baekhyun coos, pinching his now pink-coated cheeks lovingly. Sputtering, Kyungsoo removes Baekhyun’s hand by slapping it away, asking, “What about your ‘rule’ though?”

Baekhyun laughs out loud, snorting once in an unruly manner in the middle of his cackle. “Rules are meant to be broken, Soo.” Kyungsoo’s heart jumps at his nickname, jumping with pure relief.

Baekhyun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be frank here. I’m not very good at expressing myself all the time, at least not seriously.” Again, his hand reaches out to touch Kyungsoo’s cheek. One finger plucks away the stray eyelash resting on his cheekbone, before resting his hand to cup his cheek. “So I’m sorry for not letting you in. It’s hard for me, to suddenly trust someone again. But if it’s you…” Baekhyun inches closer, sitting on the very edge of the chair, “I think I could try again.”

Kyungsoo’s heart probably skips a beat, but he can’t tell because he finds himself being pulled in for a kiss. Baekhyun’s lips are soft and move against Kyungsoo’s chastely with his hand still cupping Kyungsoo’s cheek. Kyungsoo gives as well, pressing their lips together sweetly because it feels right, but his location clicks in his mind and slowly backs away.

Baekhyun’s eyes flutter back open, knocking his forehead playfully into Kyungsoo’s. He chuckles when Kyungsoo frowns but doesn’t attempt to put up a fight.

Kyungsoo inhales, “Please tell me that wasn’t some cheesy quote from a story you read.”

His teeth shine when he retorts, “I may have indulged myself in a few romance novels in this last month.”

“Romance isn’t your forte.” Kyungsoo quirks his eyebrow upward, teasing him a questionably.

“No,” Baekhyun easily agrees, swooping in to steal another peck on Kyungsoo’s lips, “but I did need to figure out how to make it up to you somehow. And sadly…” Baekhyun gestures to the two of them, the coffee stain on his pants, Kyungsoo’s shoeless feet, and their coffee breath, “…this was the best I could do.”

“For world class writer Byun Baekhyun, I am severely disappointed.”

Baekhyun responds, “I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you then.”

Laughing, Kyungsoo replies. “That you will.”

When Kyungsoo turns to look out the window, what he sees surprises him. Rain.

Huh.

Baekhyun waves a hand in front of him, distracting him out of his thought process. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have a proposition for you.”

He adjusts, shifting into a position that makes Kyungsoo believe he’s a writer. When he first heard of Byun Baekhyun, the writer, this is what he imagined him being like. Calm, collected, poised. But when Baekhyun cracks a smile, breaking his façade, Kyungsoo sees the Baekhyun he’s familiar with. The writer he loves. The person he loves.

“How would you, Do Kyungsoo, like to collaborate with noteworthy writer Byun Baekhyun?” Baekhyun proposes, eyes twinkling in mischief.

Baekhyun always baffles Kyungsoo with his ideas, but this likely tops them all. Kyungsoo matches his smile, thrilled and excited. “I think that sounds horribly ridiculous, but I’d be a fool to reject.”

Baekhyun nods agreeing. “You definitely would be. But you’d be my fool.” A moment later, Baekhyun is laughing as Kyungsoo uses his foot to shove Baekhyun back in the chair, hissing about how he is no one’s fool.

With minimal effort, Baekhyun pulls Kyungsoo to his feet, assisting him in putting his shoes and coat back on. After every button Baekhyun does, he stops to kiss Kyungsoo, murmuring affectionate words to him that causes Kyungsoo to turn redder than he has ever been before. As Kyungsoo protests, Baekhyun drags him along to the entrance and then into the rain.

Kyungsoo yelps as raindrops splatter onto his head, about ready to curse Baekhyun out when a hot pink umbrella shelters his head.

“You ready?” Although it’s pouring now, making the streets seem blurry, Baekhyun’s smile is easy to distinguish. Kyungsoo tries a Baekhyun, not giving him a response and instead chooses to pull Baekhyun through the streets.

And yeah, Kyungsoo thinks he’s ready.





It turns out that working with Baekhyun is a more of labor-bearing task that Kyungsoo initially anticipated.

While Kyungsoo is usually the one who sits them both down, laying out their ideas in their shared notebook, Baekhyun is usually the one who coaxes Kyungsoo off of the couch with insistent kisses and aggressive cuddling.

It’s a wonder really how the two of them manage to turn in a draft that makes Junmyeon rave excitedly, swearing he’ll be the first to purchase a copy of their work.

It’s a simple story, a piece of fiction about two writers who fall in love. It’s cliché, but Baekhyun happily points out it’s based on a true story, and indeed it is.

On the final page of their novel, there are only a few words.

Dedicated to our matchmaker, the rain. Thank you.