[M] White (1/1)

It’s chilly.Jongin puts down the last of the boxes on the doorstep with a huff. He dallies a little longer, shuffling the music on his iPod again because it insists on playing the same few songs on alternate, when something white catches his eye.It’s clothing, a sheet of some sort, hanging in the garden of the next house.Someone is doing the laundry, probably an old ahjumma; but no, as Jongin peers closer, he sees a boy.Slight and short and pale, but a boy nonetheless. He frowns. What kind of teenager does the laundry at eight in the morning?Jongin looks at the boy for a while longer before shrugging and seeking refuge in the new house.  “Why don’t you go to school?” Jongin drapes half his body over the red-bricked wall of his house when he spots Kyungsoo before he goes to school one morning, eyes taking the opportunity to scan his neighbour’s fragile-like figure from behind.Do Kyungsoo, Kim Jongin’s new neighbour who lives alone and constantly does the laundry. Jongin spoke to him for the first time when he came to their house, offering a polite welcome to the neighbourhood, an apology for not noticing them when they moved in and a fresh plate of cookies.For some reason, Jongin thought he looked really uncomfortable then, and really insincere.Kyungsoo twists his body a little and his thin waist becomes visible, and you couldn’t really blame Jongin when his eyes shamelessly follow the interesting movement.“I don’t like the people there.” He says curtly, giving a tiny shrug and turning back to hanging up paper-white sheets of linen that must have taken a whole day to wash by hand. Kyungsoo says he doesn’t trust the washing machine enough to let it ‘unsoil’ his washings.Jongin later realized that Kyungsoo wasn’t being insincere. He was just uncomfortable.“Did they hurt you?” Jongin asks quietly, voice barely carried by the warm autumn breeze.Kyungsoo doesn’t reply and for a while, Jongin thinks the boy doesn’t hear him. However, the possibility that the subject is too sensitive to Kyungsoo hits Jongin and he does a double take, processing his mind fervently for a change of topic.  The last thing he wants is for Kyungsoo to shut himself in.Jongin is just about to open his mouth when Kyungsoo speaks; voice tender and almost diffident and making Jongin curse himself for being such an inconsiderate asshole.“They…did things.” Jongin could see Kyungsoo tensing up, the wall of self-protection he’d developed over years of non-socializing rapidly building up. It doesn’t surprise Jongin when Kyungsoo shakes his head quickly before completely shutting down; and no other words came.The boy continues to peg; choosing to ignore Jongin and hope that his reply is sufficient to quench Jongin’s curiosity.But it isn’t; and it doesn’t.Jongin finds himself hoisting himself up and jumping over the brick wall; and in seconds, he’s already only a foot away from Kyungsoo. He stares, unwilling to let rationality get to him (because nothing’s rational about hopping into your neighbour’s yard on a Sunday morning) and steps forward silently.“Kyungsoo.”It’s like he isn’t thinking at all, as if he’s on autopilot—just like when he scrunches up his nose when he’s laughing, or when he covers his face when he’s humiliated—and his hands reach out, his arms warm against Kyungsoo’s waist. It surprises him though; the way Kyungsoo feels even more fragile than he looks.Three whole seconds barely passes before Kyungsoo spins around, simultaneously pushing Jongin away. The look on his face screams terrified; and it’s a clear fact that all the blood is rushing out of his face, making him paler than usual.“Wh-What’s wrong with you?” Kyungsoo splutters and Jongin notices the way he’s slightly holding his hands up, looking at them instead of Jongin. The sign that he needs his hands washed, fast.He clicks his tongue, sends a somewhat ‘annoyed-but-confused’ kind of glare down Jongin’s way and proceeds into his house.The wind slams the unclosed door shut, and Jongin feels like he’s just been slapped in the face.  “Are you sure it’s okay?” Kyungsoo whispers, tugging Jongin backwards by the hem of his shirt, away from the door of the café. Even stepping on the concrete ground sends shivers up his spine, and now Jongin wants him to walk into a room full of insanitary humans?“Yeah, yeah.” Jongin pulls the teen forward (by the long sleeve of his sweater), grinning as he slips a small bottle in Kyungsoo’s hand. Kyungsoo blinks at the item, before his lips tilt into a meek smile.“You’ll be safe and clean and everything now.”Kyungsoo nods, squeezing the sanitizer in his hands as if it could provide him the support he needed. He’s proved wrong, however, when Jongin coaxes him forward again, and he couldn’t move an inch. The very prospect of stepping foot into a closed pandemonium of sneezing, coughing and touching and spitting is enough to make him want to run for his life. For all he knows, he could come in alive and out a dead man.“I—I shouldn’t.” Kyungsoo shakes his head, gulping. “We shouldn’t Jongin—think of—think of all the germs in the room—““Kyungsoo.” Jongin’s voice is stern, hard. He suddenly grips the other male by the wrists, dragging him around a corner as to avoid staring from the passer-bys (not that they weren’t already being goggled at like some pair of mating animals). Kyungsoo looks at him in fear and repulse, and he tries to pry Jongin’s hand off of his to no avail.Jongin simply wouldn’t let go.“Jongin, please—““Kyungsoo, listen to me.”But the boy wouldn’t; instead he struggles even more, hot tears already stinging in the back of his eyelids. It’s painful to be held like this and it’s painful to watch the unsympathetic look in Jongin’s eyes.“Jongin—“ A sob. “—would you please let go!”“Fuck no!” Jongin tightens his clench and pins them to press painfully onto the wall behind them. Kyungsoo couldn’t even think of the billions of germs mounting his body, infecting him, dirtying him, because all that’s registering on his mind is Jongin’s words, clear and sharp. “I’ve been trying so damn hard to help you, can’t you even try and lift a finger to help yourself? You’re always in that comfort zone of yours, trying so hard to protect yourself. But do you know that you hurt others while doing it? You’re protecting yourself but you’re hurting people, Kyungsoo.” Jongin’s jaw hardens. “You’re hurting me—do you even realise that?”Jongin is trembling slightly and his hands went lax. Maybe he shouldn’t even be here. Maybe he’s just wasting his time with all this.He needs to leave; leave this rotten mess, forget about this broken boy who refuses to be fixed. His hands completely drop by his side, head hung low. “I’m sorry.” He takes a step backwards, ready to sprint for his life because he knows he’ll turn back if he gives it a second thought. He avoids eye contact, because he knows he’ll convert right back into the hopeless romantic that he is when he sees the large, dark orbs. He doesn’t want to give Kyungsoo a chance to speak, because just hearing the boy’s voice would indefinitely change his mind about leaving.What he doesn’t know, however, is that Kyungsoo would pull him forward by the neck, almost so savagely that their foreheads bump painfully into each other’s. Jongin doesn’t know that Kyungsoo would be breathing so erratically, puffs of air hitting his lips and shoulders a quaking mess as he pulls Jongin closer. His eyes flicker frantically, and however surprised Jongin is, he knows that this is the limit; Kyungsoo wouldn’t be able to stand it any longer.Anytime, he’d pull back and he’d probably pull out the sanitizer Jongin just gave him; he’d probably smear lots and lots of it on his skin. Kyungsoo touching him is already a dream come true—he isn’t about to ask for more.But—holy fuck—no, Kyungsoo is tugging him closer and all he could do is try to breathe right, and their lips touched and Jongin thinks he’s going to die from too much self-control. Kyungsoo’s lips tastes like mint, literally because he must’ve brushed his teeth before going out and god, it makes him regret all the girls he’d kissed in his entire 17 years of life.The taller boy closes the gap between their torsos, hand reaching the nape of Kyungsoo’s neck.The sudden contact is evidently Kyungsoo’s melting point. The pale boy halts all assault, squirming his way beneath Jongin’s arms (because by then, Jongin has unconsciously leaned his elbows onto the wall), and does the expected.Jongin returns to a normal standing position (rather than being slumped onto the wall like he’s trying to sex it up), attempting to settle down his heart and maybe get the heat off his face while Kyungsoo fumble with his beloved germ exterminator.“I can’t believe you’re actually cleaning me off your body.” Jongin says finally, all thoughts of leaving Kyungsoo permanently (okay, maybe temporarily) frolicking out of his head.“Not you.” Kyungsoo murmurs, distracted. “The germs.”Jongin rolls his eyes, but oh, fuck he’s so goddamn happy right now he probably wouldn’t care if Kyungsoo demands to be brought home and given a proper bath (don’t take that the wrong way, but Jongin would definitely be happier if it is the wrong way).“Hey—why did you do that?” Jongin steps closer on purpose, testing out the newly developed boundaries between them. Kyungsoo doesn’t notice; still busy applying the minty gel onto the length of his skinny arms.“I don’t know—“ Kyungsoo gives a minor pause before scrubbing harder at his skin, as if angry with himself. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”Jongin’s heart deflates a little at the unintended insult, but it quickly jumps back up. No. He couldn’t lose hope now. The kiss is a huge advancement. One small kiss on the lips, but one humongous step to getting Kyungsoo as his—his something.“Nothing’s wrong with you.” Jongin says, voice hinting at a little hurt. “You just need to practice, see? I’m like your dummy.”Kyungsoo suddenly looks up, brows lightly furrowing. Jongin explains without having to be asked.“Yeah, like you practice with me and then you’ll have no problem with making contact with other people.”“Oh.” Kyungsoo nods in understanding and Jongin hates it. The words came out of his own mouth and he hates the fact that Kyungsoo must think of him like he thinks of singing practice, but he needs to make sure that he’s not overly attached; so that Kyungsoo wouldn’t be freaked when he acts too clingy or pushy. “You’re my dummy; got it.” And he goes right back to his sanitizer.“So—“ Jongin gulps; he’s probably pushing it too far now. “Do you probably wanna…possibly…. come to my house?”Kyungsoo shakes his head immediately, and Jongin’s heart cracks as the boy mutters the next couple of words.“I don’t really want to practice right now.”  Their first session isn’t in the least bit effective; although it is, by at least some means, a good start.Kyungsoo had declined Jongin’s offer to his house, so he opts for an alternative—camping out at Kyungsoo’s house. Although it reeks of floor cleaners and soap, he’s kind of getting used to it—heck, he probably even liked it already. Okay, maybe that’s a little far-fetched.He’d done his research, and almost every source says the disorder needs some kind of professional help. He proposes it to Kyungsoo and all the latter does is shakes his head, muttering ‘doctors are stupid.’So Jongin really has no clue of what he’s doing when he smears sanitizer in his palms and stretches it towards Kyungsoo, a lazy smile on his face to hide his uncertainness. They are sitting on the floor (Kyungsoo with a pillow under him) and Kyungsoo stares at the hand quizzically.“You want me to shake your hand?”“Not just my hand. My clean hand.”Kyungsoo gulps. He saw Jongin sanitizing his hands, so they are relatively germ-free—but why is he feeling uneasy about this?“Come on.” Jongin wriggles his fingers. “You touched me without sanitizer before.”Kyungsoo flushes at the blatant reminder and quickly takes Jongin’s slightly cold hand, flinching when the taller male suddenly grips hard and pulls Kyungsoo into a half-hug.“Wh—Jongin!”The handsome boy is grinning, feeling Kyungsoo squirm around trying to break the forced contact and doing nothing to loosen it.“Jongin—let me go! This is going too—far!”Jongin finally lets go, chuckling when he sees Kyungsoo panting and all red in the face. Kyungsoo’s really cute. This is not the first time Jongin’s thought that.“We have to work on this.” Jongin pretends to massage his non-existent beard, scrunching his nose and nodding knowingly.Kyungsoo stares at the ground, heart still palpitating. Jongin has this effect on him, but he doesn’t know if it’s because of his phobia or…something else.“What if I do this—“ Jongin bends to the side and pats his palms on the floor. Kyungsoo tries not to cringe when he then stretches his hand towards Kyungsoo again. “Now try touching it.”Kyungsoo shakes his head. How could Jongin even do that—knowing the floor is where their feet go?“Kyungsoo—“Kyungsoo stands suddenly, face grim. “I think that’s enough for today.”He darts off to the bathroom after Jongin leaves and the door’s shut.  “You have to stop this, Kyungsoo.” Jongin clutches at the pale arm, anger lacing his voice. “Why won’t you just—“Why won’t you just change?“Jongin.”Jongin, stop touching me.Jongin removes his hand, feeling sick to his guts. He knows that tone, the desperateness it brings, the pleading that would ensue after it. It’s a vicious cycle, and with every round Jongin’s heart sinks a little deeper. Fixing Do Kyungsoo is like trying to leave footprints on a shore; useless. Unchanging. Unrelenting.Every footstep Jongin leaves in Kyungsoo’s heart gets washed away by his insecurities, his fear of changing himself.Where Jongin draws, Kyungsoo erases.“Jongin, I—““I don’t—I don’t think we’re gonna work.” Jongin’s head is messed up, everything about them is messed up.  “All you do is give up. Everything—I tried everything. You just don’t—Kyungsoo, I can’t.”“What?” The paler teen looks slightly alarmed, tear-brimmed eyes finally casting upwards, brown, wide. Jongin almost never replied.But he does.“I’m leaving you. I can’t do this.” He takes a deep breath, on the edge of taking back his words. It feels like he’s tearing himself apart, shredding the parts of him where Kyungsoo dwells, the memories, the smiles, the one kiss. No, leaving Kyungsoo is not an option—he couldn’t—he couldn’t live without Kyungsoo.But he thinks of the frustration he felt, all the anger, the persuading, the face Kyungsoo wears when he’s being touched by Jongin. Something in his chest flares, and it hurts, it really, really hurts and he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore.“I can’t keep trying when you won’t even help yourself.”I need you, Kyungsoo, please—“I hope you’ll find someone—“No.  No.“Someone better—who could help you with this— I just..“The tears streaking down Kyungsoo’s face come down to his lips. Jongin wants to kiss them again, feel the exhilaration he felt that day, that hesitance acceptance. Kyungsoo just needs to kiss him, and he’ll be back on his knees, begging, pleading to come back.But Kyungsoo doesn’t. Kyungsoo doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, crying.Jongin shakes his head one last time, finally clearing up all the doubt. “Just—call me if you need anything.”And for the first time since they met, he walks away from Kyungsoo.  Jongin rubs the heels of his hands onto his eyes, then eases out the wrinkles on his forehead only for them to come back again.Another sleepless night.A sigh drags out of his lips, eyes roaming the night sky, mind somewhere else.“…Fuck.”He flicks another cigarette onto the coffee table, counts the grand total—eight. He lets out a groan. A few days of self-loathing and regret is fine, but two full weeks of it is definitely not part of his plan. He’s supposed to be a free man, frolicking around, hitting on girls, drink till he reaches his limit and ends up beside the fire hydrant in the morning, smelling like piss and booze.He could have even taken up smoking again.He isn’t supposed to turn down girls with a smile on his face. Not supposed to crave Kyungsoo’s presence, stay awake on his bed and contemplate visiting Kyungsoo, it’s just a few steps away. It’s stupid of him, really, to put a cigarette between his teeth, only to pull it back out without lighting it up.Now he’s staring at the yellow sticky note on his favourite lighter, the neat handwriting (andwae!) and the cute smiley beside it making him feel sick to his guts. He flicks it open, brings it to the ninth cigarette tucked between his lips. He could do this; burn the death stick, burn all of the memories of Kyungsoo in his head.The fire he’d expected, the same one that would lick his thumb but never burn it; it never came.He tries again, clicking the metal mechanical shut then open—nothing. Nothing.It takes a while for him to realize that Kyungsoo had emptied it. There’s no oil left.Something clicks in Jongin’s head and he starts to laugh, pure humour crackling in his veins. When dawn comes, he’s right in front of Kyungsoo’s house, heart in his mouth.  Kyungsoo is on his bed, folding a piece of paper into what seems acceptably like a crane. He squints to the book again, trying to make sense of the ninth step that is illustrated in a bafflingly complex manner, with arrows pointing left and right and bottom and under and over.He gives up quickly, throwing the limp paper across the room. He just needs practice, no big deal.“You just need to practice, see? I’m like your dummy.”Kyungsoo pulls a white pillow and buries his head into it, trying to transfer his thoughts into it. His abundance of memories and thoughts and vague images of Jongin isn’t going to change anything now. After he’d left, Kyungsoo felt empty, in the worst sense of the word. He’d walk in the kitchen and cook for two, and then remember Jongin isn’t coming for lunch anymore. He sometimes would wake up with tears on his face and wouldn’t have any idea of what he’d been dreaming about. However, time does heal and he’s forgetting Jongin, slowly, gradually. After Jongin’s gone, he’s back to his comfort zone, which is nice because he doesn’t need to stupidly follow Jongin around or try touching him anymore. He wouldn’t have to yearn to touch someone so badly or wonder what it would feel like to hold hands with someone you like, someone you might even love.Yeah, forgetting Jongin is too easy.Someday, he wouldn’t even recognize Jongin’s name on his phone and he’ll delete the number and if somebody asks, he’ll just say ‘Jongin who?’ and however hard he tries, the memory wouldn’t come back.Kyungsoo sighs. Wishful thinking never gets you anywhere, his mother used to say—and what is he doing? Folding paper cranes, like they would actually grant him a wish like what the book says? What is he, five? No matter how hard he wishes, how hard he prays, Jongin would never, never—He glances at the digital clock on his bed stand. Huh, he stayed up till six and not one crane is finished. Well, there’s no harm if he just gave up on this stupid origami thing—“All you do is give up.”Kyungsoo freezes for a while. Okay, maybe he could try again later. He’ll look up on the internet or something—find some other way to do it, a simpler one.For now though, he needs sleep. Even with Jongin’s face on his mind right now, even with tears stinging the back of his eyes.He closes his eyes for about two seconds before the doorbell rings.  Jongin is in front of him. Jongin is here. Why? He didn’t even manage one goddamn paper crane, why would—and—and what is he saying?“—you. Kyungsoo, are you listening? Are you still sleeping?”“What?” Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut, so hard that his head feels woozy. “Jongin?”Jongin winces a little and gulps. “—Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. Kim Jongin.” Have you somehow forgotten me?“What are you—doing here..?” Kyungsoo’s breathing is on staccato; his heart doing random little jumps when his brain processes the fact that Jongin is here, on his doorstep, looking flustered for some reason Kyungsoo doesn’t know. It’s like reality punching Kyungsoo in the face; because he suddenly realizes he couldn’t possibly forget Jongin.Because all Kyungsoo could see are dark lashes, moving lips and gripping fists and that is enough an image that would be ingrained in the roots of his mind forever. Jongin speaks just as a speck of light tints the horizon.“I thought I could live without you. It’s so—I’m so stupid—I thought if I leave, I’d be able to put all those things behind me.”Jongin breathes in shakily. “I tried to convince myself that I could actually forget you.”Kyungsoo wants to say ‘me too’ and ‘I missed you’ and more than ever, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’, but there’s something stopping him, rooting him to the spot, clamping down his mouth.“I tried to pick up smoking again, you know.” A strange smile twists Jongin’s lips, and he opens his palms to show Kyungsoo—he has to squint to make it out—the lighter with the sticky note on it. “Then I realized you’ve emptied it. And I thought, if you could make me stop smoking, why couldn’t I cure you?”Kyungsoo stares at the lighter, speechless. Jongin takes that as another sign of non-understanding.“What I’m saying is, Do Kyungsoo,” He gulps. “I like you. I want to be yours—“ He pauses and cringes. “I’m sorry, too cheesy. It’s just—I just like you. Even if you don’t want to touch me. Even if I don’t get to touch you. And—and I totally get it if you want to be, you know, just friends. So—”“No.”“No?” Jongin asks, looking crestfallen.“No, I don’t want to be friends.”“Then—““Yeah.”  Nineteen months later, Jongin wakes up to the sound of running tap water. He cracks an eye open and smiles. Kyungsoo is stark-naked by the sink, marks of purple and red marring his white skin, post-sex euphoria lighting his face with a pink glow. He’s washing his hands, but not like the fervent way he used to. Now it’s just deliberate, and he looks thoughtful, almost regretful as he stares into the sink, oblivious to Jongin’s gaze.“Good morning,” Jongin calls lazily. He ends up rolling around and laughing when Kyungsoo shrieks a string of profanities as the shorter male slams the toilet door shut.Jongin snuggles into his pillow. Maybe he could get thirty minutes more, before he’s pulled out of bed and is dutifully coerced into doing the laundry with Kyungsoo.    A/N: so yeah. is this supposed to be angst? cause in my opinion this is glitter rainbow puke compared to other kaisoo fics out there which tore my heart into freakin pieces   hm. right. cheerios, minions.