i could love you (more than this).
Aug. 5th, 2013 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
uponinfinityTitle: i could love you (more than this).
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo, side!Xiumin/Luhan
Genre: Angst
Length: 1732 words
Warnings: unbeta-ed
Summary: They’re meant to be so, much, more.
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo, side!Xiumin/Luhan
Genre: Angst
Length: 1732 words
Warnings: unbeta-ed
Summary: They’re meant to be so, much, more.
The sun is shrouded by downy clouds on a beautiful day, lending just the right amount of light to the party occurring in the garden beneath. A handful of pearl white marquees stand in the middle of an expanse of green grass and sprinklings of colourful flora, providing shade for the people gathered underneath it. Music blares from speakers loud enough to deafen, but nobody pays any mind and just increases their own volumes to be heard.
Kyungsoo isn’t one of them.
He’s sitting alone amongst the flood of friends and foreign families, the thin stalk of a champagne flute caught between his fingers. There is cake and food and any variety of alcohol to his disposal, but he ignores everything and opts instead to remain silent and alone, eyes absently scanning his surroundings.
There is a four-tier wedding cake set atop a table in the middle of the makeshift parquet flooring under the largest marquee, one with two miniature men standing on its topmost tier. One is shorter and with dark hair, hand enjoined with the taller figure topped with a mop of silvery-purple (which, by the way, Kyungsoo will never understand). The human counterparts to the dolls are themselves very much mobile, talking in high-spirited voices fuelled, Kyungsoo’s sure, by the newly adorned pair of matching rings, white gold bands that catch the light and glint beautifully.
Kyungsoo watches solemnly as Minseok and Luhan make their rounds, graciously thanking their guests for coming, happily accepting all their congratulations. A small smile tugs at his lips when he notices Minseok shutting up and just nodding, eyes fixed on lips spewing a foreign tongue. He watches as unfamiliar words crinkle the corners of Luhan’s eyes, and he feels his heart warm as his two friends exchange adoring glances, as they share their laughter.
He wishes, sometimes, that he had that.
He doesn’t delude himself into thinking he’s selfish, but doesn’t deny for a second that he’s bitter – because two of his best friends have finally tied the knot while he’s still woefully without a partner. The thought makes him feel as though he’s only got the heels of his feet stuck firmly on a cliff, the rest of him ready to fall into the unknown abyss below him. He visibly shudders at the thought and is quick to drain his glass, allowing the waiter to replenish his drink once he’s done.
‘Is this seat taken?’ comes in a deep voice in Kyungsoo’s ears, and he shakes his head. The chair next to him is pulled out and subsequently occupied by a man clad in simple black slacks and a suit jacket, revealing an ample amount of red-shirted chest. Kyungsoo doesn’t spare a glance at his new companion, though, too absorbed in his hobby of people-watching.
‘Friend of the groom?’ comes the question Kyungsoo’s been answering all day, and he rolls his eyes. ‘The shorter one, yes,’ is his reply. The stranger starts making small talk with him, earning enough of his attention to hold an actual conversation with Kyungsoo. As he talks, Kyungsoo is reminded of winter afternoons amongst piles of books and assignments in the corner lot café, of hearty laughs and shared warmth in the coldest, longest nights of the season. He’s reminded of sunny afternoons with sand stealing between his toes and into his shorts, of watching sunsets on the beach in the summer.
He’s reminded of times that were.
‘I was kind of hurt when Luhan hyung said I wasn’t going to be his best man. You’d think dancing our legs into stubs together would mean something to a guy,’ the stranger says ruefully.
‘Being his friend for the past 16 years probably meant more to him, I guess,’ Kyungsoo smiles, watching happily as the stranger’s lips curl into a reluctant smile. It’s already late evening and the sun had set a little earlier, colouring the clouds with soft pastels and hues, as if the sky itself was trying to mirror the beauty of the day in Minseok and Luhan’s eyes. The band Luhan and Minseok hired announced a slow song, the groom and groom’s first dance together.
The drummer and the bassist make their way offstage, leaving the singer and guitarist on the raised platform. An acoustic guitar is picked up and a few soft chords are strummed as the vocalist takes a swig from a bottle of water. There is a silent cue to begin and music once again fills the air, soft and romantic, made all the more soulful by the singer’s rich voice.
Kyungsoo watches with stars in his eyes as Minseok and Luhan take the floor, foreheads pressed together as they sway in perfect sync. There was no denying that the two were soulmates – that what they had was special, different, rare. Kyungsoo’s too caught up in witnessing the special moment unfolding before him to notice a pair of eyes on him, so close and so piercing it’s a wonder there aren’t any physical holes cutting into the side of his head.
‘Hey, Kyungsoo – do you want to dance?’ his companion asks, standing up and offering his hand to him. Kyungsoo gapes up at the man and has trouble swallowing enough to form an answer, so the man takes that as a yes – ‘Come on, I’ll lead and you just – follow,’ – and wraps Kyungsoo’s fingers in his, a gentle tug and smile all the encouragement Kyungsoo needs to make his way to the dance floor.
Kyungsoo almost always follows.
By now other couples are dancing together too, arms snaked around waists and necks and words being whispered into ears. Kyungsoo tries not to let the general aura of romance and love get to him, tries to separate his ideals from his reality as he is easily twirled and swayed by the man who has him in his arms.
Kyungsoo glances momentarily at the newlyweds sharing a tender kiss and feels his heart constrict, a paradoxical reaction between jealousy and shared happiness. ‘That – that could’ve been us, you know,’ comes his companion’s voice, and Kyungsoo doesn’t want to acknowledge it, but it’s obvious that he’s waiting for a reply.
‘Well… It’s not. It’s Minseok and Luhan, and not… Not us. There is no Jongin and Kyungsoo,’ Kyungsoo breathes, throat already beginning to feel tight.
‘There could have been. You could have been the one to be stressing over flowers and tablecloths, I could have been the one worrying about food and catering. We could have had rings on our fingers, we could have… There could have been a whole circus just like this one coming to town – but for us,’ Jongin whispers, hand moving up to cup Kyungsoo’s chin and bring his eyes to meet his.
Kyungsoo is cautious about looking Jongin straight in the eye – wary of all the memories one glance could bring. He doesn’t want to remember the could have beens, the should have beens, the would have beens. He doesn’t want to recall how those eyes looked into his that warm summer day the first time Jongin told him he loved him, doesn’t want to look at those lips and be reminded of how soft they always were on his own. He doesn’t want to think about what transpired years ago, because he always feels as if his past self had taken the wrong turn when he’d reached the fork in the road.
Sometimes he wonders what it would be like if he’d chosen the path Jongin now walks.
‘I don’t want to think about – I think I should just leave,’ Kyungsoo murmurs, and even though his heart is screaming at him not to, he lifts his hands off Jongin’s shoulders, makes to step away from the latter. But Jongin’s hands don’t move from their spots on either side of Kyungsoo’s waist, if anything, his grip becomes firmer. Kyungsoo quickly realises he’s fighting a losing battle and wraps himself around Jongin again, lets the younger press their foreheads together saw he’s all Kyungsoo can see.
‘Don’t – don’t even think about leaving me right now. I know we’re not – we’re not meant to be, and that someday I’ll get a card and wear a suit just to watch you dance like Minseok and Luhan are now with someone else, okay, I know all that.’ Jongin’s voice sounds like it’s about to crack, and Kyungsoo seems to have lost control over his own voice, so he stays silent until Jongin continues.
‘And I know it’s selfish of me, and that’s probably why you left me in the first place – but just for tonight, just for one night, let me… Let me be with you like this.’ And Jongin tugs Kyungsoo closer, the polite distance their bodies had between each other evaporating with his movement. They’re a little too close and a little too nostalgic, and they both know it would probably be a good idea for them to disentangle themselves and run in opposite directions.
But they’re both also insufferably lonely and haunted by the ghosts of their past together, by mental projections of the person they have in each other’s arms right now. They know they’ll part ways again, possibly permanently once the wedding is over, returning to their own lives, returning to days trying to properly survive without the other there. And it’s painful and bitter and they hate fate and circumstance for separating them this way, but – well, there’s nothing they can do now.
So when Jongin bends down just a little and whispers ‘I’m going to kiss you now,’ into Kyungsoo’s ear, the older doesn’t hesitate to smash their lips together in a passionate kiss, trying to memorise how those lips feel against his because he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get another chance at this in his lifetime. The kiss doesn’t last long enough to suit either of them, but they know they have to pull away once the music ends, they know that this – that they – were just never meant to be.
So they pull away and whisper their goodbyes one last time, pulling arms off the other’s body, sad eyes memorising features already built into their minds. Jongin is the first to turn away, to disappear into a crowd of well-wishers and almost acquaintances, and Kyungsoo stands rooted to the spot until his eyes lose Jongin.
Sometimes Jongin leads, but Kyungsoo just can’t follow.
Author’s note: I… Am suffering from a lack of Kaisoo fics. Please. Save. Me.
Yes the title is from a One Direction song. No I am not a Directioner. No. Not at all.
(I like how Zayn’s face faces.)
Thank you for reading!
Kyungsoo isn’t one of them.
He’s sitting alone amongst the flood of friends and foreign families, the thin stalk of a champagne flute caught between his fingers. There is cake and food and any variety of alcohol to his disposal, but he ignores everything and opts instead to remain silent and alone, eyes absently scanning his surroundings.
There is a four-tier wedding cake set atop a table in the middle of the makeshift parquet flooring under the largest marquee, one with two miniature men standing on its topmost tier. One is shorter and with dark hair, hand enjoined with the taller figure topped with a mop of silvery-purple (which, by the way, Kyungsoo will never understand). The human counterparts to the dolls are themselves very much mobile, talking in high-spirited voices fuelled, Kyungsoo’s sure, by the newly adorned pair of matching rings, white gold bands that catch the light and glint beautifully.
Kyungsoo watches solemnly as Minseok and Luhan make their rounds, graciously thanking their guests for coming, happily accepting all their congratulations. A small smile tugs at his lips when he notices Minseok shutting up and just nodding, eyes fixed on lips spewing a foreign tongue. He watches as unfamiliar words crinkle the corners of Luhan’s eyes, and he feels his heart warm as his two friends exchange adoring glances, as they share their laughter.
He wishes, sometimes, that he had that.
He doesn’t delude himself into thinking he’s selfish, but doesn’t deny for a second that he’s bitter – because two of his best friends have finally tied the knot while he’s still woefully without a partner. The thought makes him feel as though he’s only got the heels of his feet stuck firmly on a cliff, the rest of him ready to fall into the unknown abyss below him. He visibly shudders at the thought and is quick to drain his glass, allowing the waiter to replenish his drink once he’s done.
‘Is this seat taken?’ comes in a deep voice in Kyungsoo’s ears, and he shakes his head. The chair next to him is pulled out and subsequently occupied by a man clad in simple black slacks and a suit jacket, revealing an ample amount of red-shirted chest. Kyungsoo doesn’t spare a glance at his new companion, though, too absorbed in his hobby of people-watching.
‘Friend of the groom?’ comes the question Kyungsoo’s been answering all day, and he rolls his eyes. ‘The shorter one, yes,’ is his reply. The stranger starts making small talk with him, earning enough of his attention to hold an actual conversation with Kyungsoo. As he talks, Kyungsoo is reminded of winter afternoons amongst piles of books and assignments in the corner lot café, of hearty laughs and shared warmth in the coldest, longest nights of the season. He’s reminded of sunny afternoons with sand stealing between his toes and into his shorts, of watching sunsets on the beach in the summer.
He’s reminded of times that were.
‘I was kind of hurt when Luhan hyung said I wasn’t going to be his best man. You’d think dancing our legs into stubs together would mean something to a guy,’ the stranger says ruefully.
‘Being his friend for the past 16 years probably meant more to him, I guess,’ Kyungsoo smiles, watching happily as the stranger’s lips curl into a reluctant smile. It’s already late evening and the sun had set a little earlier, colouring the clouds with soft pastels and hues, as if the sky itself was trying to mirror the beauty of the day in Minseok and Luhan’s eyes. The band Luhan and Minseok hired announced a slow song, the groom and groom’s first dance together.
The drummer and the bassist make their way offstage, leaving the singer and guitarist on the raised platform. An acoustic guitar is picked up and a few soft chords are strummed as the vocalist takes a swig from a bottle of water. There is a silent cue to begin and music once again fills the air, soft and romantic, made all the more soulful by the singer’s rich voice.
Kyungsoo watches with stars in his eyes as Minseok and Luhan take the floor, foreheads pressed together as they sway in perfect sync. There was no denying that the two were soulmates – that what they had was special, different, rare. Kyungsoo’s too caught up in witnessing the special moment unfolding before him to notice a pair of eyes on him, so close and so piercing it’s a wonder there aren’t any physical holes cutting into the side of his head.
‘Hey, Kyungsoo – do you want to dance?’ his companion asks, standing up and offering his hand to him. Kyungsoo gapes up at the man and has trouble swallowing enough to form an answer, so the man takes that as a yes – ‘Come on, I’ll lead and you just – follow,’ – and wraps Kyungsoo’s fingers in his, a gentle tug and smile all the encouragement Kyungsoo needs to make his way to the dance floor.
Kyungsoo almost always follows.
By now other couples are dancing together too, arms snaked around waists and necks and words being whispered into ears. Kyungsoo tries not to let the general aura of romance and love get to him, tries to separate his ideals from his reality as he is easily twirled and swayed by the man who has him in his arms.
Kyungsoo glances momentarily at the newlyweds sharing a tender kiss and feels his heart constrict, a paradoxical reaction between jealousy and shared happiness. ‘That – that could’ve been us, you know,’ comes his companion’s voice, and Kyungsoo doesn’t want to acknowledge it, but it’s obvious that he’s waiting for a reply.
‘Well… It’s not. It’s Minseok and Luhan, and not… Not us. There is no Jongin and Kyungsoo,’ Kyungsoo breathes, throat already beginning to feel tight.
‘There could have been. You could have been the one to be stressing over flowers and tablecloths, I could have been the one worrying about food and catering. We could have had rings on our fingers, we could have… There could have been a whole circus just like this one coming to town – but for us,’ Jongin whispers, hand moving up to cup Kyungsoo’s chin and bring his eyes to meet his.
Kyungsoo is cautious about looking Jongin straight in the eye – wary of all the memories one glance could bring. He doesn’t want to remember the could have beens, the should have beens, the would have beens. He doesn’t want to recall how those eyes looked into his that warm summer day the first time Jongin told him he loved him, doesn’t want to look at those lips and be reminded of how soft they always were on his own. He doesn’t want to think about what transpired years ago, because he always feels as if his past self had taken the wrong turn when he’d reached the fork in the road.
Sometimes he wonders what it would be like if he’d chosen the path Jongin now walks.
‘I don’t want to think about – I think I should just leave,’ Kyungsoo murmurs, and even though his heart is screaming at him not to, he lifts his hands off Jongin’s shoulders, makes to step away from the latter. But Jongin’s hands don’t move from their spots on either side of Kyungsoo’s waist, if anything, his grip becomes firmer. Kyungsoo quickly realises he’s fighting a losing battle and wraps himself around Jongin again, lets the younger press their foreheads together saw he’s all Kyungsoo can see.
‘Don’t – don’t even think about leaving me right now. I know we’re not – we’re not meant to be, and that someday I’ll get a card and wear a suit just to watch you dance like Minseok and Luhan are now with someone else, okay, I know all that.’ Jongin’s voice sounds like it’s about to crack, and Kyungsoo seems to have lost control over his own voice, so he stays silent until Jongin continues.
‘And I know it’s selfish of me, and that’s probably why you left me in the first place – but just for tonight, just for one night, let me… Let me be with you like this.’ And Jongin tugs Kyungsoo closer, the polite distance their bodies had between each other evaporating with his movement. They’re a little too close and a little too nostalgic, and they both know it would probably be a good idea for them to disentangle themselves and run in opposite directions.
But they’re both also insufferably lonely and haunted by the ghosts of their past together, by mental projections of the person they have in each other’s arms right now. They know they’ll part ways again, possibly permanently once the wedding is over, returning to their own lives, returning to days trying to properly survive without the other there. And it’s painful and bitter and they hate fate and circumstance for separating them this way, but – well, there’s nothing they can do now.
So when Jongin bends down just a little and whispers ‘I’m going to kiss you now,’ into Kyungsoo’s ear, the older doesn’t hesitate to smash their lips together in a passionate kiss, trying to memorise how those lips feel against his because he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get another chance at this in his lifetime. The kiss doesn’t last long enough to suit either of them, but they know they have to pull away once the music ends, they know that this – that they – were just never meant to be.
So they pull away and whisper their goodbyes one last time, pulling arms off the other’s body, sad eyes memorising features already built into their minds. Jongin is the first to turn away, to disappear into a crowd of well-wishers and almost acquaintances, and Kyungsoo stands rooted to the spot until his eyes lose Jongin.
Sometimes Jongin leads, but Kyungsoo just can’t follow.
Author’s note: I… Am suffering from a lack of Kaisoo fics. Please. Save. Me.
Yes the title is from a One Direction song. No I am not a Directioner. No. Not at all.
(I like how Zayn’s face faces.)
Thank you for reading!
