part two hundred and twenty one

[exomeme]

   

chiyu chiyu

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Re: team zyx - baeksoo ghost au - part 2 - 2905w

[(Anonymous)]

Underneath Kyungsoo's remains there had been another layer of dirt, and then a necklace. Minseok collects it and labels it, sets it aside to be sent to the police department to aid in their investigation.

Baekhyun tips it out of the plastic bag and twists the chain between his fingers. It's brittled over time, worn and stripped of its strength by the weather. The ring spins, first clockwise, then reverses slowly, untangling itself, counterclockwise. He's seen Kyungsoo's wearing it—an echo of it, anyway, silver and dangling past the jut of his collarbones to disappear under his undershirt.

"It's Ky—it's his," Baekhyun says confidently, putting the necklace down on the table. Minseok wrinkles his nose.

"I don't think so. It looks like a woman's ring." He gestures at the body. "You think this guy wore a woman's ring?"

It was my grandmother's says Kyungsoo, appearing behind Baekhyun. Minseok doesn't hear him, but Baekhyun does. His eyebrows lift, trying to compose his face into something that resembles thoughtful surprise.

"Maybe it's his grandmother's," he says, like it's just occurred to him. "Or his mother's."

Minseok wrinkles his nose. "Sounds cheesy. But maybe," he allows, begrudgingly. "Put it back in the bag."

Kyungsoo's hand goes to his throat, absently, hooking his thumb into the ring. It barely fits to the first joint. My parents will want that back, he says. They'll recognize that before they recognize… and he trails off, waving at the mummified corpse in front of them.

—

Baekhyun soon gets used to the idea of having company in the tent. It's not so bad, honestly, when he realizes that Kyungsoo's not some marauding ghoul straight from a horror film. He's just your typical twenty-something, minus the whole transparent thing. And when he really considers it, the after life must be pretty boring with nothing to do all day.

Baekhyun chatters on as he works, holding both halves of the conversation so Kyungsoo doesn't have to. He explains things even if he's pretty sure Kyungsoo's bored out of his mind sitting there, legs crossed underneath him like a lotus, chin on his fist, waiting for Baekhyun to be done for the day.

Baekhyun tells him about his older brother, about how he's wanted to be an archaeologist ever since his brother sat him down and forced him to watch all of the Indiana Jones films in one afternoon. He talks about Jongin and Minseok and Professor Lee, and how nervous he is about starting graduate work in the fall, and how his parents are worried he's never going to get a real job doing something 'worthwhile'—whatever that means.

When he exhausts those topics, he goes on to questions for Kyungsoo, a relentless interrogation that stretches on from dawn until dusk. He learns not to pause too long to wait for answers: either Kyungsoo doesn't know, or doesn't want to say. The most Baekhyun ever gets in return is a muted hum, or a grunt. A quiet affirmation.

"Do you sleep? Do you disappear when you sleep? Where do you go, when you disappear?" Baekhyun asks, sifting dirt through a fine metal screen. "Are you still here, but just invisible? Or have you ever tried to be invisible?"

I'm invisible to everyone but you, Kyungsoo points out quietly, breaking the silence. Baekhyun looks up, startled, hair sweaty and cowlicked off his face. He wipes his forehead with the back of his wrist, studies Kyungsoo's solemn expression for half a beat before he breaks into a wide, sunny beam.

"I guess that's true."

It must be contagious, because even the corners of Kyungsoo's lips tug up suddenly, unbidden.

—

Baekhyun checks in with the morgue every day, asking after the remains found on the SNU dig. They're not too forthcoming with information now that it's an open murder investigation, but the lead detective on the case is nice enough to let him know that they haven't discovered the identity of the remains at this time. Baekhyun could tell them, he supposes, but he's got no evidence except for the ghost of Kyungsoo himself, and he seems to be the only one who even knows he's there.

Eventually, he breaks the news to Kyungsoo. That he was murdered, that they're struggling to find his identity. That he might be buried without a name. Kyungsoo seems to take the news of being murdered fairly well, although Baekhyun's never had to deliver any news to a ghost before to know the difference.

"I've never known anyone who was killed," Baekhyun murmurs, head bowed to the ground. "My grandfather died when I was a kid, but—that's not really the same thing."

Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose. A slow smirk creeps across his face, derisive, like he can't believe Baekhyun's putting his foot in his mouth quite this badly. No. It's really not the same thing at all.

"I'm sorry."

Kyungsoo's eyebrow lifts. Why? You didn't do it. You were a child.

This startles a laugh out of Baekhyun. "No, I didn't," he says. "Do you know who did?"

Kyungsoo shrugs, shoulder pulled all the way up to his ear. Not really. It could've been an accident, for all I remember.

Baekhyun shakes his head. "You—your skull—"

Stop. Kyungsoo puts his hand up. I'm sorry, I don't need to know the details. Please don't tell me.

Shame burns deep in Baekhyun's chest. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." He laughs hollowly. "I've never had a dead friend before. I'm new to this 'communicating with ghosts' thing. Forgive me."

Kyungsoo puts his hand out like he's trying to comfort Baekhyun which is ridiculous when Baekhyun really thinks about it, he's not even the one who's dead. It passes right through his body, then dissolves. Somehow, it comforts Baekhyun anyway.

—

"Do Kyungsoo," Minseok announces the next day, dropping a manila folder into Baekhyun's lap. Kyungsoo peers over and then settles back down, a satisfied sort of half-smile on his face. Baekhyun stares at it blankly for an extended beat, mystified, before Minseok elaborates. "The body. They identified it. It was this missing student." He squints at Baekhyun. "I figured you'd want to know. Since you took such an active interest."

Baekhyun's mouth moves, but words fail him. He wouldn't know what he meant to say, anyway. Thank you? I already knew?

He decides on, "I hope his family's relieved to know what happened," and lets it go, watching Kyungsoo fiddling with the ring on his necklace again.

—

Days stretch on and Kyungsoo's still there. He's become more comfortable, bold, even, in the way he speaks to Baekhyun. Have you heard anything about my family? he asks. I had an older brother. He's probably married by now.

"Look," Baekhyun says, wiping the sweat out of his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt. "I don't know, okay? They won't tell me anything. Why don't you go try and find them?"

My parents don't live in our old house anymore.

"You can't sense them with your creepy little ghost receptors or something?" Baekhyun snaps. "Why are you attached to me? Why does it have to be me?"

Believe me, I wish it wasn't. I wish someone else could see me. You're useless.

"Fuck you. I have work to do. What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone? You're already dead—"

Kyungsoo swings his fist towards Baekhyun's chest. If he'd been solid—human—he probably would've broken a rib. Baekhyun thinks he might have preferred the broken bone to this—the icy, hollow feeling that envelops him and spreads through his chest. Even his fingers tingle, like coming inside after a long time in the cold. He gasps for air.

Kyungsoo pulls back and stares, horrified. Shit. I'm sorry.

Baekhyun wheezes, momentarily winded. "I-it's—" He tries to say It's OK and fails, which seems to make Kyungsoo worry more. He hovers for a few useless seconds, trying alternately to fret over Baekhyun's breathing and trying desperately not to touch him and make it worse.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Kyungsoo—it's—fine," Baekhyun manages, holding his hand up. "Just had the breath knocked out of me. I'm OK."

You're not. You look sick. Did I—did I hurt you? Did you feel that?

"You've got a pretty mean right hook for a dead guy," Baekhyun teases, surreptitiously mopping the cold sweat from his forehead. He feels awful, but he can tell from the way Kyungsoo's brows are rutted together, Kyungsoo probably feels worse. If ghosts can even feel, that is.

I'm sorry. Kyungsoo runs a hand over his face and then dissolves into nothing. Baekhyun watches him flicker away and feels acutely disappointed. Funny, then, that the cold hollowness returns, even without Kyungsoo taking another punch.

—

Later, Baekhyun's back at home, washing his face. Kyungsoo hadn't come back to him. He'd waited, even, long past he was allowed to go home, but no sign of him.

"Where did you go?" he says out loud, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

A thought suddenly crosses his mind, unbidden, and he knows it's Kyungsoo. I'm right here. He instantly feels warmer.

"How are you here?"

Something tugs at his chest and he watches, astonished, as a hand sticks right out from where his heart is, waves, and then disappears back inside him again.

I've been with you all evening. Didn't you notice me?

"No, I didn't. Jesus," Baekhyun breathes. "Can you—can you control—can you make me do things?" he asks, astonished, his mouth opened in a perfect 'o' of wonderment.

If you let me. Just relax.

Baekhyun half-nods, feeling the invisible tug of puppet strings on his fingers as they flex, one by one, on Kyungsoo's command. "Wow," he breathes when his hands reach up to explore his face. It feels so very strange—they're definitely his hands. Long, delicate fingers, knobby joints. The graze across his knuckles he'd gotten from last week's dig. But the slow, deliberate way they track across his face—that's all Kyungsoo's doing. He kisses his fingertip playfully when it smooths across his lower lip and hears Kyungsoo's shy laughter in the back of his head as loud as if he were there, sitting across from Baekhyun, using his own hands.

"This is so much worse," Baekhyun says hoarsely after a moment. "This is worse than before. This is—such a tease."

It's more than I could have hoped for.

"Don't be stupid," Baekhyun whispers. "It's not the same. I want to touch you, not just myself." A thought occurs to him. He barely gets out, "Can you—?" before Kyungsoo's responding, anticipating. Of course. Of course he knows what Baekhyun's thinking.

I'm only a memory, Baekhyun. I can't do anything you can't do for me.

In the mirror, Baekhyun watches his hand stroke his own face, compelled by the force of Kyungsoo's will. Then, amazed, he watches the broad pad of his thumb wipe away a tear he hadn't noticed was there.

—

Later that night, Baekhyun lies awake, listening to Kyungsoo bang around inside his head, restless as ever. Ghosts don't need to sleep, after all. Baekhyun laughs after a particularly disgruntled noise from Kyungsoo rattles behind Baekhyun's eyes. "I can hear you. In my head. Does that mean you can hear what I'm thinking?"

Baekhyun can sense Kyungsoo mulling this question, turning it over in his head (Baekhyun's head?) and considering it before he answers. Not really. Not in words. But I can feel your mood, at least. Like right now you're disappointed about something.

Baekhyun voice splits, husky and low. "You," he says, and touches his mouth again. He feels the phantom warmth of Kyungsoo's hand covering his and his thumb moves, jerkily, across his cheek.

Me? But I'm right here.

"I know," says Baekhyun, and then nothing else for a very long time.


—

Now that Kyungsoo waits for him at home, Baekhyun feels an invisible force tugging him back home, like a tracking device. He gets home and pushes himself to shower, to wash most of the filmy dirt off of his skin before he flops in bed, naked and exhausted.

Kyungsoo has no weight but Baekhyun can feel when he clambers on the bed anyway. The hair on his arms stand up, but he's not frightened, just alert—just sensing Kyungsoo folding up his limbs, occupying a space he'd probably elbow Baekhyun out of, if he were real.

He is real, Baekhyun quickly corrects himself. If he were solid. But that doesn't matter, he's real, he's here, I'm not imagining him.

Baekhyun, Kyungsoo croons, his voice soft and velvety, surprisingly deep for how young his face looks. Are you still awake?

Lazily, Baekhyun reaches up to palm Kyungsoo's neck, pull him down to his face to kiss him. If Kyungsoo were a body, he'd be in Baekhyun's arms now. Instead, Baekhyun ends up with a fistful of air and Kyungsoo's soft chuckles fanning across his face.

Let me in.

He feels more alert when Kyungsoo's completely settled inside him. It's a weird sensation at first—not unlike the prickling, pins-and-needles kind of fear Baekhyun had first felt when Kyungsoo was first making his presence known at the dig. He was afraid it would hurt, like it did when Kyungsoo punched him, but without the anger behind it there's nothing, just a soft, floating feeling, kind of like going to sleep on a gently-rocking boat. It's more comforting than anything, at least once his skin stops tickling. His limbs feel solid and steady, like Kyungsoo is cradling him, holding him close.

He doesn't expect the fingers skimming down the length of his torso to settle lightly on his cock that rises more responsively than it ever has for him before. His head snaps back, half-startled, half-ecstatic. "Oh, fuck," he whimpers. "Kyungsoo."

He hears Kyungsoo humming softly in his head, quiet and encouraging and very, very focused. Baekhyun can't keep his thoughts organized enough to articulate anything to Kyungsoo, but it doesn't seem to matter anyway. Kyungsoo sets a shudderingly slow pace with Baekhyun, his grip vise-like and soft, all at once. It's completely unlike the rough, hurried way Baekhyun masturbates. It's exactly what Baekhyun never knew he liked.

"You know when you sit on your left hand and make it fall asleep so it's like a stranger jacking you off?" Baekhyun babbles, spare hand clawing at the sheets to try and stay still underneath his—Kyungsoo's?—touch. His fingers twist right under the head all at once, pinching tightly, and he can't stop the yelp that bursts forth from his mouth. Yet another thing he hadn't been aware he was into. He makes a note to remember that one and realizes belatedly that Kyungsoo knows what he's thinking when he hears Kyungsoo laugh, long and loud, between his ears.

Mmm. I don't think I ever tried that, Kyungsoo murmurs, sounding supremely amused. Of course, it's been a while.

Baekhyun feels the tautness in his groin curl into a fine point moments before he comes harder than he ever has in his life. Shit—fuck. He can't tell if he's thinking that or if it's Kyungsoo's voice, hoarse and tight, but it doesn't really matter much anyway. He comes in hot spurts all over his stomach, Kyungsoo's pace insistent and fast the whole way through. Baekhyun lies back and lets Kyungsoo take over completely, his wrist wringing himself long past the point of release, cock kicking, straining, for a climax that seems to keep him soaring forever.