acatwhowrites: (Lay♡kissus)
A Cat Who Writes ([personal profile] acatwhowrites) wrote2015-01-17 10:58 pm

We are the Pieces

title: We are the Pieces
players: Kim Joonmyun/Suho, Zhang Yixing/Lay, Byun Baekhyun, Park Chanyeol, Kim Jongin/Kai
word count: 3,850
rating: PG-13
summary: After three weeks, four days, ten hours, and twenty-seven minutes of sighing and moping, Jongin moves on.

a.n.: One of two written for kaixingforyou. (Original post here.)
The prompt was taking a bit from a movie I was not at all familiar with, but I looked it up, looked into it, and tried to get a bit of the idea into this. The timing in this is probably wonky. I am not a party person; I have no idea how long people are actually in social settings, but if things moved quickly, I thought that'd be less stressful for everyone involved.





Baekhyun had enough of Jongin's sighing and moping. He did not care for the host of the upcoming party, but if it got Jongin out of their apartment, he could always ignore the host and tackle his own plans of conquering the beast he'd had his eye on as a side-project next to keeping his friend alive and a semi-functioning human being.

“But what if he's there?” Jongin didn't mean to whine, but between Baekhyun abusing his scalp and face with products and brushes and sprays and the anxiety of seeing his ex only three weeks, four days, and seven and a half hours after the most miserable breakup in the history of ever, Jongin felt entitled to a bit of whining.

His friend wagged a brush at his face. “You are a strong, independent man, Kim Jongin. You don't need him or any other man.”

“So why am I even going with you?” He tried to dodge the brush, but Baekhyun could be surprisingly strong and agile when he had a goal and a vision, so he settled for frowning and squirming like a child.

“You are perfectly capable of socialising without someone's hand down your pants or tongue down your throat.” Baekhyun clapped a hand on Jongin's shoulder, holding a shirt in his other hand. “I have faith in you. You're done. Now, which do you think?”

“What's your plan?”

“Do Kyungsoo.”

That wasn't even a plan, but it sounded terrifying. “The black, then.” It hid blood better.

Jongin sat on Baekhyun's bed among disorganised piles of clothing and leaned backwards to see himself in the mirror over the dresser. He messed with his bangs a little until his arm was snapped at with Baekhyun's rolled up pyjama shirt he'd been lazing about in all weekend before springing the party invite on Jongin.

Personally, he'd much rather stay at home and read or play video games or sleep, but Baekhyun had sat on his back and twisted his arm, saying he was sick and tired of Jongin's moping and sighing. Tears in his eyes, Jongin sighed his consent and moped through the primping his friend insisted on.

He did look good, at least, so the suffering wasn't completely in vain.

The waiting for his friend to finish getting ready was worse.

“C'mon, Cleopatra. While I'm still young.”

“Art takes time. Patience.” Baekhyun grabbed Jongin's bored gaze in the mirror and arched a crafted brow. The makeup really did bring out his eyes. Less puppy and more panther. “I thought you didn't want to go.”

“I am willing to make an appearance, show how well off I am without him, and then come back home to sleep until next Wednesday.” He had an exam Thursday, otherwise he'd happily sleep the whole week away. Missing class was a small price to pay to detox from any party Baekhyun deemed hip enough to attend.

“Good plan. If I'm lucky, you'll even have the place to yourself for a while.”

“Great. Fantastic. Can we go, now?”

Baekhyun snatched a small container of lip gloss, dabbed his bottom lip, and smiled. “Yep!”

Jongin offered up a small prayer to whatever gods watched over vain best friends and patience and got to his feet.

“Hey, before we go, you need gloss.” Baekhyun puckered his lips.

“Save it for the collars.”

“Oh, good idea!” Baekhyun stuffed his wallet in his back pocket and swung their apartment keys on the Marvel lanyard Jongin picked up for his birthday. “Off we go, my dear friend! On to bigger and better things! Adventures! New experiences!” He locked the door behind him and hooked Jongin's elbow. “Simply getting out of the house!”

The party was hosted a few blocks away. In the warm evening, it was easily within walking distance.

They heard it before they felt it. Being in a lower-rent area, no one really cared so much. The parties were kind of tradition by that point.

Jongin grabbed Baekhyun by the collar before he slipped away and left Jongin alone.

Baekhyun smiled encouragingly. “Just don't do anything I wouldn't do, and you'll be fine.”

“That kind of leaves the field wide open, doesn't it?”

Baekhyun half grinned, trying to hide the gleam of mischief. “Go on.” He jerked his head over a shoulder. “Go find whatever it is you're into … or want in you. Whatever.” He disappeared in a single blink.

Anxiety slowly settled into Jongin's gut. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted to be home watching anime and ignoring life, not mingling awkwardly shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers tottering on varying degrees of drunkeness at eight o'clock at night.

He'd told Baekhyun he'd make an appearance, though, so he allowed himself to follow the general flow of the sea of people and washed up beside a familiar face.

“Hey, Chanyeol.”

The tall upperclassman's face seemed to split with the volume of his smile, although it quickly dimmed. “Jongin! I-I didn't think you'd be here.”

Jongin shifted to stand on one foot, rubbing his calf with the other. “He's here, then, huh?”

“Yeah … .” Chanyeol looked kind of apologetic, but all their friends knew about Jongin's breakup. Some had nodded to themselves with self-satisfaction, because Joonmyun had a reputation of being a flirt, whether on purpose or not, and it he been just so obvious to them that the couple wouldn't last.

“Is he with someone?”

“Uh … He didn't come with anyone … .” But he's with someone, now. Figured. Joonmyun was hard to resist.

Jongin bit his lip and shrugged. He tried to smile. “Whatever. It's a big party. I doubt I'll see him.”

“Just try and enjoy yourself, okay?” Chanyeol smacked his arm in a macho manner, because he knew if he hugged Jongin, one or both of them would cry a little. They were brothers in their feelings—meanings they were like infants and couldn't keep their feels to themselves. “Head to the kitchen if you need something to relax. Stay away from the purple stuff, though. I don't think it's safe to drink.”

Maybe he should head there right away. As Chanyeol left, and Jongin found himself awkwardly leaning against the hall wall—somehow on the outskirts of all the crowds despite being rubbed and bumped with each movement of the others—anxiety seeped up his legs again, digging cold fingers into his thighs and drawing up his skin in goosebumps.

He knew the layout of the house, although it became a lot more difficult to navigate with so many bodies crammed into a relatively small place, and he eventually made it to the kitchen and grabbed the first bottle he saw. The purple mystery concoction Chanyeol warned him about sat innocently on the kitchen counter. Jongin didn't want to know why it smelled like Dawn dish soap.

The bottle emptied quickly, and he chased it with another. A classmate tottered into the kitchen, gave him a smile of vague recognition, and promptly collapsed across the counter to hurl into the sink.

That was Jongin's cue to leave.

His quick escape from a messy situation lead him to a messier scene, however, and he cursed his left hand for not grabbing a third bottle while he could.

He recognised some more classmates from school, a couple friends he waved at, and then the last person he wanted to see so soon. Sure, it had been three weeks, four days, and nine hours and twenty-four minutes—not that he kept track—but it was just too soon to see Joonmyun across someone's lap other than his own.

Logic left, muscled out by Panic and its partner, Bad Ideas.

Panic made his hands sweat and ears hot; Bad Ideas threw suggestions of confronting Joonmyun—which was up there at Awful Idea, because they were no longer together—running away, and grabbing the first person he could to act out the classic jealousy ploy.

With how crowded the room was, he could hardly move, anyway, so he couldn't run away, much less march up to Joonmyun and make a total ass of himself, so he blindly grabbed someone's wrist. “This is dumb, but my ex is with someone. Kiss me.”

The dude—thankfully, not one of his own classmates—simply smiled, and he looked so freaking sweet and angelic that Jongin briefly wondered if he was dead. If he was dead, though, he'd have to be in Hell, because Joonmyun was there, and this new guy—still smiling, smiling enough his smile had a smile carved into his right cheek, as well, a cute little dimple that begged to be poked and-or caressed with a finger and-or tongue—just didn't belong anywhere but among fluffy things like puppies and pink clouds.

He stared for longer than he intended, bordering—well beyond—creepy, and he jumped as if static shock ran up from his toes to his ears when someone bumped into the guy's back, pushing him into Jongin. The guy turned and bowed slightly, apologising in Korean and Mandarin even though the offending bumper was already swaying through the crowd like a sluggish pinball.

Jongin wasn't quite so desperate as to grab the guy outright and kiss him until either of them passed out, but he did slip a hand around the other guy's waist and peeked out the corner of his eye. His heart swam in his stomach as Joonmyun leaned into his human cushion, laughing with a hand before his mouth like the gentleman he tried to present himself as.

“Wen wo?” Kiss me? All he picked up from dating Lu Han freshman year was kiss me, feed me, and not now; I'm tired. Imagine putting his vocabulary to use in a cesspool of drunken debauchery and strange odours! How quaint.

He must have looked really pathetic or really hot, because the smiley angel didn't say anything at all. He kind of caressed the back of Jongin's neck, tugging a bit at the hair and messing up Baekhyun's painstaking styling, leaned forward with a subtle tilt of his head, and Jongin's brain went somewhere far away where Bad Ideas battled with Ethics and Morals.

The rest of him stayed right where he was, thoroughly enjoying the moment, because there was nothing at the forefront of his mind to distract him from the dude's obvious smooching skills. He may have looked like a total bunny rabbit, but there was a hand creeping suspiciously low down Jongin's back.

“Is he watching, yet?”

Oh; words. Conversation. Jongin opened his eyes barely enough to glance to the sofa—where Joonmyun was throwing looks his way—but it didn't seem all that important at the moment. It must've been the alcohol, because he was not usually so easy and teenagery. Usually. He still had his moments.

Panic had settled at least, contented with the purrs of pleasure Jongin didn't recognise in his own throat.

He swallowed shallowly, nodding dumbly. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He pulled Jongin away from the wall, meeting his lips, and walked him back out of the sight of the living area and into the hall that lead to bedrooms and bathrooms. If Jongin's eyes had been opened, he'd have seen Joonmyun pouting.

His eyes were shut tight, though, and he only came back to full consciousness when his mouth felt cold. What?

The dimpled stranger licked his lips and grinned. “I hope I helped.”

“Oh, yeah.” Coherency was key. Unfortunately, coherency usually came with awareness and consciousness, neither of which Jongin really had, as his brain was buzzing with booze and on a high from lack of oxygen. He concentrated on breathing and regaining cognitive function while the stranger offered another smile, kind of crooked and almost shyly looked away.

Someone draped an arm over his shoulders and said something in his ear, which would have been easily heard if not for the near-deafening music and conversations bombarding inebriated bodies. He met Jongin's eyes, briefly, and bowed his head a little.

Then he left, and Jongin went back to the kitchen. He felt like he could brave the purple stuff.

The purple stuff was a mistake, and all the bathrooms were occupied—whether being used for actual bodily needs or as makeshift privacy barrier things, because all the bedrooms were closed and locked—so he stumbled outside and discovered that one of the unusual ingredients in the purple stuff was glitter.

“Dude. Did I not warn you about the purple stuff?” Chanyeol rubbed his friend's back and only flinched a little through the retching and dry heaving. He imaged he was comforting a distraught cat, but he quickly stopped, because his allergies threatened to kick in. “Just let it all out, man. Better out than in. Maybe we should just dump that … I doubt anyone would miss it.”

Once all the regret was finally just a bad taste in his mouth, Jongin relinquished his death-grip on the porch railing and wanted to go home. Nothing could possibly improve the evening's experiences. The bad had out-weighed the good. Baekhyun had abandoned him, rather than just letting his feelings take their course—probably in the form of a few more sad break-up playlists he may or may not send to Joonmyun—and he was pretty sure another ingredient of the purple stuff was brussel sprouts.

“I feel disgusting,” Jongin admitted, smacking his lips.

Chanyeol offered him a water bottle. “I've been tasked with keeping an eye on Jongdae, so I've been going through their water supply.” Jongin swished and spat seven times before feeling some slight improvement. “I saw you with an upperclassman, though; I didn't know you knew Yixing.”

“I … don't?” Of course Cute Dimple had a name. Jongin wasn't functioning at his best, lately. He hadn't for three weeks, four days, and nine hours and forty-some minutes.

“Dude.”

What? Like you've never panicked after seeing your ex with someone else and come up with a horribly flawed plan whose only foundation was jealousy.”

Chanyeol actually looked to the ceiling, as if thinking back through his own dating history. He scowled, pouted, shrugged, and shook his head. “Can't say that I have, no.” He patted Jongin's shoulder. “You gonna be alright?”

“I'm probably just going to sit out here until I need to carry Baek home.”

“Well, if you start feeling dizzy or have a change in personality, just go to the ER. Five blocks down, three over.”

Thanks. Go dump that shit.”

Chanyeol muscled his way back into the crowd, and Jongin sat on a step out from beneath the overhang of the porch to look at the sky. It was pretty, a purpleish velvet look if not for the ambience of the city, making it all pinker. Starlight pricked through the haze. Jongin passed the time watching jets pass high overhead.

“Oh.” Jongin turned to his left to see Cute Dimple—Yixing—ducking beneath a branch of a tree that really needed to be removed. “I was wondering where you'd gone.”

“I had the purple stuff,” he replied honestly. “Stay away from the bushes on the other side.” Gross honesty. Some people liked it. Not many.

Yixing gave the bushes a wide berth and sat on the grass by Jongin's feet. “You're feeling better, I hope.”

“Much. I'd even be great, if I could steal some mouthwash, but the bathrooms are otherwise occupied.”

Yixing shifted to his left and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket—somehow, pants that tight still had functioning pockets—and pulled out a package of spearmint chewing gum. “Gum?”

“Yes, please! You're an angel.” He was so thankful the back of the house had no exterior lights. Once he realised what he said, his face ignited with embarrassment.

They sat in silence with only cicadas and crickets for company until Yixing sighed softly. “So you dated Kim Joonmyun?”

Jongin hummed.

“He's nice … .”

“He is. He's super nice. To everyone.” Capital n, Nice. He didn't discriminate his niceness, which was a major issue in their relationship. “I guess I wanted too much of that for myself.”

“It's okay to be selfish in a relationship. There just needs to be some communication and compromise and balance.”

“We evidently didn't have that. I tried telling him how I felt a couple times, but it was like talking to my dad. There was this weird wall … .” Jongin snapped a tiny bubble in his gum. “I still like him, though.” He was nice. Comfortable. Surprisingly sexy at the weirdest times. Jongin would be watching TV on the couch, and Joonmyun would walk to the kitchen alongside, still getting dressed, and the pull of his muscles as he pulled on a sweater or buttoned up his shirt made Jongin want to push it all off again to see the foundation.

Yixing nodded. “Break-ups are rarely easy. Sometimes, they are for the best. It opens an opportunity for someone better in your life.”

There's a novel idea Jongin never considered. Since breaking up three weeks, four days, and ten hours ago, Jongin's head was still filled with Joonmyun. He was not the only guy in the world, obviously, and there was no reason for Jongin to get so hung up over someone who turned out to be unsuitable for him.

He was struck speechless, riding this new train of thought to unexplored platforms of possibilities.

Yixing stood and brushed off his butt. “Maybe I'll see you around.” He touched his shoulder as he ascended the steps, definitely not for support, and smiled softly.

“Yeah … .”

The noise increased and lowered when Yixing returned to the house, leaving Jongin to sort out his thoughts.

Someone opened the back door, again. They evidently did not have any of the purple stuff—hopefully gone by now—because they were silent. They crept to the beginning of the steps and touched Jongin's shoulder, fingers trailing over his neck as they bowed forward, and Jongin nearly shuddered at the familiar touch.

Joonmyun, hair slightly out of place and shirt unbuttoned just south of casual, smiled sweetly. He always had the manners and demeanour of a real estate agent. Polite but uninvolved emotionally. “May I sit here?”

Jongin shrugged, watching another jet and trying to ignore the swoop of his stomach.

“I thought it was time for a break. It's nice out here,” Joonmyun sighed.

Jongin made a non-committal noise, somewhere between a grunt and hum.

“How are you?”

Miserable, but functioning. “Fine. You?”

“Same.” He looked to Jongin without turning his head, more coy than subtle. “I miss you.” Wow, greasy. It was even coupled with an even less subtle hand on Jongin's thigh that used to give him shivers but now just drew up goosebumps that made him feel like a statically charged cat.

“It's been a while. You didn't even talk to me.”

“They say you don't know what you have until it's gone.” Joonmyun squeezed Jongin's thigh, pinkie tickling the inseam of his pants a little higher. “We had something really good.”

Ethics and Morals battled with Bad Ideas again and won.

There had really only been one part of their relationship that neither of them ever complained about, and that was the bedroom aspect, which didn't necessarily stay in the bedroom, but everything else was battled out at one point or another and even more than once.

“We did for a while,” Jongin commented, gently removing Joonmyun's hand. “I think I'm better without it, though.”

Joonmyun looked surprised, brows arched and jaw a little slack, but his eyes narrowed, and he actually appeared a it offended, clearly thinking Are you shitting me?

Jongin wasn't, though, and offered a sort of It is what it is, bro, shrug before standing up. “You'll find someone better than me someday. I really hope you do, because you're a really nice guy.”

He left Joonmyun stewing on the back steps and braved the crowd—still going strong—feelers out for Yixing.

An arm hooked through his, stopping him, and Baekhyun beamed at him. “Jongin!”

“Baek!” He stared at his friend's shirt. It was black, but it was unfamiliar. “That's not your shirt.”

“No, it's not.” Baekhyun played with the cuffs. “I sneakily swapped it with You Know Who's while he was doing up his pants.”

Jongin covered his face with his hands and tried to hide his ears with his shoulders. “Oh God, dude. Don't tell me this … .” It was like realising his grandparents had to have had sex. He'd known Baekhyun a long time, and he loved the guy, but there was a boundary to some topics.

“I'll spare the juicy details for later. But Jongin, Joonmyun's here, and I just wanted you to know so you don't freak out, and why do you look so calm?”

Jongin jerked his head to the side, indicating the general direction of the door. “He's outside. I just talked to him.”

“Really?”

Jongin nodded and shrugged.

“You're remarkably calm … . But that's great! Now, you can take full advantage of this party. There are plenty of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes and even a professor or two, if you're into a slightly older generation.”

“Actually, I'm looking for someone. Chanyeol said his name's Yixing?”

“Oh, you really like the sweet ones, huh?” Baekhyun nudged his side and stood on his toes. “Pretty sure I just saw him … . Yep. By that gross leopard print sweater thing on the fake plant.”

Jongin followed the pointing finger and took his bottom lip between his teeth. Maybe this was too sudden. Then again, a part of a party was meeting people and socialising.

Baekhyun helped make his decision and let go of Jongin's arm to smack his butt. “Go get 'im! Take advantage of the lack of curfew!”

When Jongin looked back, Baekhyun was gone, probably hunting down his prey to negotiate the swapping of their shirts and launching the next stage of his nefarious plan. For them both, the best path was forward, so Jongin apologised for each bump and dodged hands with cups and bottles or overly-friendly fingers until he could tap Yixing's shoulder.

“Um, this is kind of backwards, but I'm … uh … I-I'm Kim Jongin, by the way, and it's sort of late, but would you maybe want to get coffee with me?” That was a remarkably horrible introduction and invitation. The longer Yixing stared, the hotter the room felt and the more Jongin wanted to melt into the floorboards.

But then, salvation.

Yixing's dimple made another glorious appearance beside his smile, and he hooked Jongin's fidgety hand with his own. “I'm Zhang Yixing. And I'd like that. I even know a place open late.”

Three weeks, four days, ten hours, and twenty-seven minutes after the worst break-up in the history of ever—which was actually rather necessary, sighs and moans of misery—probably more dramatic than necessary, and house party that was not enough house for the party, Jongin laced his fingers with Yixing in a cosy booth of a café and felt like it all could be worth it.
END