![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
insecure. [Kaisoo; pg; au]
~500w.
This is the AU where Kim Jongin hates being Kim Jongin.
It doesn’t have anything to do with the way those syllables slide uncomfortably off his tongue – sticking in his throat and rubbing his taste buds in all the wrong ways – it’s the way it reminds him of who he used to be. Children can be cruel, that Jongin knows first-hand. Echoes of high pitched voices haunt him though they’re years gone, taunts and jeers leaving permanent, invisible scars all along his heart and across his brain. The words they used to taunt him with are tattooed on his skin, and sometimes Jongin spends hours and hours alone in his bathroom, steam fogging up the mirror as he scrubs himself almost raw, vigorously rubbing his skin with soap and hot water until he’s too tired to keep it up and his skin has turned an angry red.
(But that, he thinks, is okay. Though the skin is tender under his touch, the scars their words left begins to fade.)
There are rarely any times when Kim Jongin likes being Kim Jongin. His passion lies in the art of dance – the only thing he would allow himself to be the centre of attention for. He allows attention to be focused on him when there is a beat playing in the background, when adrenaline racing through his veins pump liquid fire under his skin, when every muscle in his body moves in time to the beat. When he lets the music take control, when he lets the elegant motions of his body carry his worries away – that’s when he welcomes the attention. That’s when he’s sure he’s found that part of him that nobody would ever look away from.
(A pair of large eyes belonging to a man not much older than Jongin could attest to that – eyes never leaving the dancer’s refined form as it spins and flourishes across the dance floor. But there are lots of things about Kim Jongin that Do Kyungsoo could never resist.)
Do Kyungsoo is a force of nature personified. He is the stream of sunlight that filters through tree branches, the calm in the eye of a tornado, the gentle caress of the wind just before it rains. But unlike a gentle evening breeze, Do Kyungsoo bursts through and makes for himself a place within the confines of Kai’s heart, a place within the confines of just Jongin. Somewhere between silent exchanges and quiet brushings of fingers against fingers, Jongin finds himself falling into something his brain vaguely tells him is love. So it’s with every last drop of courage Jongin possesses – every last ounce of confidence Jongin created for Kai – that the latter finds himself tugging at Kyungsoo, that he presses his lips against the older’s, a silent promise in a motion too meaningful and too personal for Jongin to have done with anyone other than Kyungsoo.
It has to always, always be Kyungsoo, the one who managed to break right through all the walls of Kai that Jongin had built, the delicate boy who demolished most of Jongin’s insecurities.
(And when, just a little later, Jongin makes Kyungsoo sigh his name into the kiss, Jongin decides it’s his favourite sound – breathless Kyungsoo sighing out two syllables Jongin had hated most of his life. But now – well, now, he thinks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans in again – maybe his name isn’t so bad after all.)
~500w.
This is the AU where Kim Jongin hates being Kim Jongin.
It doesn’t have anything to do with the way those syllables slide uncomfortably off his tongue – sticking in his throat and rubbing his taste buds in all the wrong ways – it’s the way it reminds him of who he used to be. Children can be cruel, that Jongin knows first-hand. Echoes of high pitched voices haunt him though they’re years gone, taunts and jeers leaving permanent, invisible scars all along his heart and across his brain. The words they used to taunt him with are tattooed on his skin, and sometimes Jongin spends hours and hours alone in his bathroom, steam fogging up the mirror as he scrubs himself almost raw, vigorously rubbing his skin with soap and hot water until he’s too tired to keep it up and his skin has turned an angry red.
(But that, he thinks, is okay. Though the skin is tender under his touch, the scars their words left begins to fade.)
There are rarely any times when Kim Jongin likes being Kim Jongin. His passion lies in the art of dance – the only thing he would allow himself to be the centre of attention for. He allows attention to be focused on him when there is a beat playing in the background, when adrenaline racing through his veins pump liquid fire under his skin, when every muscle in his body moves in time to the beat. When he lets the music take control, when he lets the elegant motions of his body carry his worries away – that’s when he welcomes the attention. That’s when he’s sure he’s found that part of him that nobody would ever look away from.
(A pair of large eyes belonging to a man not much older than Jongin could attest to that – eyes never leaving the dancer’s refined form as it spins and flourishes across the dance floor. But there are lots of things about Kim Jongin that Do Kyungsoo could never resist.)
Do Kyungsoo is a force of nature personified. He is the stream of sunlight that filters through tree branches, the calm in the eye of a tornado, the gentle caress of the wind just before it rains. But unlike a gentle evening breeze, Do Kyungsoo bursts through and makes for himself a place within the confines of Kai’s heart, a place within the confines of just Jongin. Somewhere between silent exchanges and quiet brushings of fingers against fingers, Jongin finds himself falling into something his brain vaguely tells him is love. So it’s with every last drop of courage Jongin possesses – every last ounce of confidence Jongin created for Kai – that the latter finds himself tugging at Kyungsoo, that he presses his lips against the older’s, a silent promise in a motion too meaningful and too personal for Jongin to have done with anyone other than Kyungsoo.
It has to always, always be Kyungsoo, the one who managed to break right through all the walls of Kai that Jongin had built, the delicate boy who demolished most of Jongin’s insecurities.
(And when, just a little later, Jongin makes Kyungsoo sigh his name into the kiss, Jongin decides it’s his favourite sound – breathless Kyungsoo sighing out two syllables Jongin had hated most of his life. But now – well, now, he thinks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans in again – maybe his name isn’t so bad after all.)
no subject
Date: 2013-06-08 01:58 pm (UTC)"Do Kyungsoo is a force of nature personified..." this whole paragraph in particular really got me, from start to finish T____T ♥
no subject
Date: 2013-06-08 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-09 05:11 am (UTC)asdgjsjshlajsk
the ending is just too perfect omfg I can't
thank you for writing <3
no subject
Date: 2013-06-09 05:47 pm (UTC)but it was full of issues but i'm glad it ended on a happy note ^^