Despite his best efforts, it all changes when Kim Mingyu in Class 2-2 gets his Goose.
The moment Mingyu’s Goose appears feels like something out of a drama. They’re three weeks out from the end of the semester when Mingyu arrives on campus and struts through the front gate with bravado, and behind him, a Goose follows behind. The Goose is slim but tall, not unlike Mingyu himself, with brown and white feathers and a basal knob on the upper side of the bill. Soonyoung has a moment of envy that Mingyu’s Goose seems poised and elegant, not at all rambunctious like his own little terror, before the reality of it sets in.
Mingyu has found his soulmate.
To anyone else, Mingyu likely looks confident—but Soonyoung could tell that his hands are shoved into his pants pockets not out of nonchalance, but trepidation. He’s nervous, and in that raw, sincere way that Mingyu tries to hide.
Mingyu might be a year younger than him, but Soonyoung knows him well enough. When Mingyu entered first grade, he used to follow Wonwoo around like a lost puppy, always sidling up to his Wonwoo-hyung with bright eyes and a little snaggletoothed grin. It was clear that Mingyu used to have a massive crush on Wonwoo, and it always used to bother Soonyoung until he, too, eventually learned to befriend Mingyu as well.
He’d even call him one of his closest friends now. Besides, Mingyu stopped hanging out with them as much in his second grade, once he latched onto more people in his year, including some of the exchange students from China.
Next to him, Wonwoo makes a small noise in his throat. There’s a rustle, and Soonyoung is briefly distracted from Mingyu as Wonwoo pulls his bag to his front—Soonyoung wonders whether he has a gold brick in there or something, with how he carries it around with him everywhere—as if cradling it protectively within the circle of his arms. It’s a subconscious movement. Wonwoo’s eyes are stuck on Mingyu.
Soonyoung swallows. He returns to peering out their classroom window like the rest of his classmates, and watches as Mingyu stops in the centre of the courtyard. A determined expression sets Mingyu’s mouth in a firm line.
Then, a chorus of gasps in Soonyoung’s classroom—and Soonyoung isn’t far behind. His mouth drops open as he watches in shock when he sees another student walk out from the building entrance to meet Mingyu right in the middle of the courtyard. The student has a shaved head, lanky limbs, and a familiar elegant gait.
Xu Minghao, Soonyoung recognizes. Mingyu’s best friend.
Behind Minghao is a Goose of his own. The Goose has pure white plumage, a long, graceful neck, blue eyes, and a stern, orange beak. It’s tall—maybe the tallest that Soonyoung has ever seen. The Goose is nearly a metre in height, he thinks.
Just like Mingyu’s, Minghao’s Goose is quiet. It lumbers after them, and once they get close enough to Mingyu, it approaches Mingyu’s Goose, bobbing its elegant neck. Then, they twine around one another—just as Mingyu takes Minghao’s hand in his own. Even so far away, through the glass pane and several stories that separate Soonyoung from the two of them, he can see the tenderness that settles between them.
It’s clear what’s happening. And just like that, the spell is broken. Soonyoung looks away, wanting to respect their privacy above all, and turns back to Wonwoo. They hadn’t finished their conversation about whether aliens exist, and if they did, whether they would look like amorphous creatures or indistinguishable from humans.
But Wonwoo isn’t looking at him. His attention is still on Mingyu and Minghao, outside on the courtyard. There’s an expression on his face that Soonyoung doesn’t recognize, and for some reason, the only word that comes to mind is forlorn.
His stomach twists itself into knots. He can’t tell what’s going through Wonwoo’s mind.
Soonyoung should be happy for Mingyu and Minghao. He is happy for them. But for some reason, it feels like a reminder that Wonwoo is both out of touch, yet closer than ever to him. Always within an arm’s reach, and still an abstraction all the same.
Something painful squeezes in Soonyoung’s chest. He wants what they have, and in that moment, a burgeoning sense of resentment that he doesn’t rears its ugly head inside of him.
It’s a terrible, nasty feeling. In that moment, he hates himself just a little bit more.
Without meaning to do so, Soonyoung starts to avoid Wonwoo. Not a lot. Just a little.
In the mornings, he leaves the house earlier than usual—earlier than when Wonwoo usually comes by to pick him up—and avoids questions from his mom and Minkyung-noona, though his family all know about his Goose. Soonyoung tells Wonwoo that he’s trying to get more exercise, an additional run in the mornings before they have to be at school. After class, he spends more time studying than he’s ever tried before. His Goose goes from plucking at his leg hair to attacking his toes each morning.
The only times he doesn’t—can’t—avoid Wonwoo is while they’re at school. During those times, he tries his best to be the Kwon Soonyoung he used to be, but somewhere along the line, he’s grown complacent with his own feelings. Soonyoung isn’t sure what normal is for him anymore, except for the way his chest aches with tightness whenever he’s around Wonwoo now.
As the weeks crawl by, Soonyoung feels increasingly ridden with guilt. There are moments when he can see uncertainty flash across Wonwoo’s face, a hesitation that never once existed between them. He knows it’s because Wonwoo can tell something is wrong—just as he knows that Wonwoo’s always been bad at using his words, even more than him, and knows that it’s unlikely that Wonwoo will ever confront him about it.
Soonyoung is aware that it’s unfair of him. It’s wrong for him to act like this around Wonwoo, and Soonyoung wishes badly to tell Wonwoo that he’s done nothing wrong but be lovely and warm, and all the sort of things that Soonyoung yearns for.
Soonyoung is the problem. His Goose is the problem.
And he doesn’t want to lose his best friend, even if he wants to lose his Goose.
“What?” Soonyoung asks one day at lunch, injecting a brevity he doesn’t feel into his voice, when he catches Wonwoo staring at him over his sandwich. “Is there something on my face?” He pokes his tongue between the wires of his braces. “Or my teeth?”
Wonwoo stares at him, and silence fills the rooftop with a heaviness that makes Soonyoung want to run and hide away. His eyebrows scrunch up and his mouth purses into a frown. He looks troubled.
His heart thumps in his chest. Soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to smooth his thumb over the crease in Wonwoo’s brows. He wants to hold Wonwoo’s hand and not feel sweaty over it. He wants to tell Wonwoo that he has a Goose, and he doesn’t want to lose a best friend as a consequence.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo says instead, after a while. He reaches out, slowly as if Soonyoung will run away if he moves any faster, and brushes his thumb against the corner of Soonyoung’s mouth. His finger grazes Soonyoung’s bottom lip. Wonwoo always looks a little bit cold, but his touch has always been gentle. “You look dumb. Mayonnaise— here, let me—”
Soonyoung falters. He forgets to breathe, his lungs burning as electricity shoots tingles up and down his spine at Wonwoo’s touch. Wonwoo still hasn’t moved his thumb away. Warmth blossoms in Soonyoung’s chest, a subtle heat that spreads through his veins and spreads out to every limb and every inch of skin, and he prays with every atom in his body that he isn’t blushing.
This is it. This is how he’ll die. His heart beats against his ribcage so hard that Soonyoung fears he’ll explode, or have a heart attack, or both. 17 years old, a Goose trapped at home and probably tearing at his door to try and get to Soonyoung and Wonwoo to peck at them both until Soonyoung finally kisses him; horribly in love with his best friend who probably doesn’t even love him back. Soulmates are a scam, when there has never been any guarantee that your soulmate will be the same as your own.
It feels almost like an out-of-body experience as he holds Wonwoo’s gaze. Time suspends itself between them, to a mere trickle that leaves Soonyoung focused on nothing but the touch of Wonwoo’s finger and the intensity of his stare. He watches as Wonwoo opens his mouth, words poised on the tip of his tongue, a rare expression of determination settling on Wonwoo’s face. Soonyoung is certain his heart stops beating as he waits for whatever Wonwoo is about to say.
Except it doesn’t happen. Nothing happens—except, suddenly, Wonwoo yelps. His hand flies away from Soonyoung and lands on his bag instead. He stares down at his stupid bag, then back up at Soonyoung. There’s a moment of panic that crosses Wonwoo’s face, a sense of horror—
And Soonyoung gets it. It’s not forbidden to be with someone who isn’t your soulmate, given that not everyone is compatible with their soulmate nor do they find them, but there are those who feel as if it’s wrong. This must be it, then.
Wonwoo truly does not have Soonyoung as his soulmate. And— and maybe Wonwoo is even repulsed by him.
“Oh,” Soonyoung says without realizing it. “Um.” He blinks at Wonwoo, and blinks at the sudden burn in his eyes. Soonyoung sniffles, and to his embarrassment, he realizes he’s about to cry. “I gotta—”
Wonwoo has a terrified look on his face. “Wait—”
“I gotta poop,” Soonyoung blurts out. His breath comes out short and panicked. “Diarrhea!”
Before Wonwoo can say another word, Soonyoung turns and flees.
Soonyoung does not go poop. Instead, he runs down to his classroom and grabs his bag from the locker. “Tell the teacher I’m not feeling well,” he quickly instructs Jihoon, and runs home before Wonwoo can come find him and they have to discuss Soonyoung’s crush on him, and how he’s ruined their best friendship forever by having stupid feelings and a stupid Goose.
He does, however, have a stomach ache. He wonders whether being lovesick has psychosomatic symptoms. Soonyoung doesn’t know, but he lets his mom fuss over him. She bundles the blankets around both him and the Goose, tucks him in nice and tight, and kisses his forehead.
“You should talk to Wonwoo,” she tells him, not unkindly, and smiles a little when Soonyoung works his mouth into a heavy pout. His mom sighs and gets up to open the windows. “Then maybe some fresh air might make you feel better.”
“It won’t,” Soonyoung tells her dramatically. It earns him another kiss on the crown of his head before she promises to give him the space he asked for.
“He must think I’m gross,” he tells his Goose sadly once he’s alone again. Despite his resentment towards her, he can’t lie and say that he isn’t attached to her in some way—especially when she perches on top of his chest while he lays in bed, not unlike a kitten. Maybe in another lifetime, they could even be friends. Soonyoung pets her downy head with one careful finger. “What if he thinks I’m some twisted pervert?”
The Goose honks loudly in commiseration.
“We need to come up with a plan,” Soonyoung tells her, “I need to fix this somehow. I just don’t know how yet.” He sighs. She pecks her beak at his chest. “Ouch.”
He clutches a hand at his chest, right over where she pecked him. It hurts a little, a distant kind of pain that fades quickly.
This must be what heartbreak feels like, Soonyoung decides.
Re: [FILL] fowl play (2/3)
The moment Mingyu’s Goose appears feels like something out of a drama. They’re three weeks out from the end of the semester when Mingyu arrives on campus and struts through the front gate with bravado, and behind him, a Goose follows behind. The Goose is slim but tall, not unlike Mingyu himself, with brown and white feathers and a basal knob on the upper side of the bill. Soonyoung has a moment of envy that Mingyu’s Goose seems poised and elegant, not at all rambunctious like his own little terror, before the reality of it sets in.
Mingyu has found his soulmate.
To anyone else, Mingyu likely looks confident—but Soonyoung could tell that his hands are shoved into his pants pockets not out of nonchalance, but trepidation. He’s nervous, and in that raw, sincere way that Mingyu tries to hide.
Mingyu might be a year younger than him, but Soonyoung knows him well enough. When Mingyu entered first grade, he used to follow Wonwoo around like a lost puppy, always sidling up to his Wonwoo-hyung with bright eyes and a little snaggletoothed grin. It was clear that Mingyu used to have a massive crush on Wonwoo, and it always used to bother Soonyoung until he, too, eventually learned to befriend Mingyu as well.
He’d even call him one of his closest friends now. Besides, Mingyu stopped hanging out with them as much in his second grade, once he latched onto more people in his year, including some of the exchange students from China.
Next to him, Wonwoo makes a small noise in his throat. There’s a rustle, and Soonyoung is briefly distracted from Mingyu as Wonwoo pulls his bag to his front—Soonyoung wonders whether he has a gold brick in there or something, with how he carries it around with him everywhere—as if cradling it protectively within the circle of his arms. It’s a subconscious movement. Wonwoo’s eyes are stuck on Mingyu.
Soonyoung swallows. He returns to peering out their classroom window like the rest of his classmates, and watches as Mingyu stops in the centre of the courtyard. A determined expression sets Mingyu’s mouth in a firm line.
Then, a chorus of gasps in Soonyoung’s classroom—and Soonyoung isn’t far behind. His mouth drops open as he watches in shock when he sees another student walk out from the building entrance to meet Mingyu right in the middle of the courtyard. The student has a shaved head, lanky limbs, and a familiar elegant gait.
Xu Minghao, Soonyoung recognizes. Mingyu’s best friend.
Behind Minghao is a Goose of his own. The Goose has pure white plumage, a long, graceful neck, blue eyes, and a stern, orange beak. It’s tall—maybe the tallest that Soonyoung has ever seen. The Goose is nearly a metre in height, he thinks.
Just like Mingyu’s, Minghao’s Goose is quiet. It lumbers after them, and once they get close enough to Mingyu, it approaches Mingyu’s Goose, bobbing its elegant neck. Then, they twine around one another—just as Mingyu takes Minghao’s hand in his own. Even so far away, through the glass pane and several stories that separate Soonyoung from the two of them, he can see the tenderness that settles between them.
It’s clear what’s happening. And just like that, the spell is broken. Soonyoung looks away, wanting to respect their privacy above all, and turns back to Wonwoo. They hadn’t finished their conversation about whether aliens exist, and if they did, whether they would look like amorphous creatures or indistinguishable from humans.
But Wonwoo isn’t looking at him. His attention is still on Mingyu and Minghao, outside on the courtyard. There’s an expression on his face that Soonyoung doesn’t recognize, and for some reason, the only word that comes to mind is forlorn.
His stomach twists itself into knots. He can’t tell what’s going through Wonwoo’s mind.
Soonyoung should be happy for Mingyu and Minghao. He is happy for them. But for some reason, it feels like a reminder that Wonwoo is both out of touch, yet closer than ever to him. Always within an arm’s reach, and still an abstraction all the same.
Something painful squeezes in Soonyoung’s chest. He wants what they have, and in that moment, a burgeoning sense of resentment that he doesn’t rears its ugly head inside of him.
It’s a terrible, nasty feeling. In that moment, he hates himself just a little bit more.
Without meaning to do so, Soonyoung starts to avoid Wonwoo. Not a lot. Just a little.
In the mornings, he leaves the house earlier than usual—earlier than when Wonwoo usually comes by to pick him up—and avoids questions from his mom and Minkyung-noona, though his family all know about his Goose. Soonyoung tells Wonwoo that he’s trying to get more exercise, an additional run in the mornings before they have to be at school. After class, he spends more time studying than he’s ever tried before. His Goose goes from plucking at his leg hair to attacking his toes each morning.
The only times he doesn’t—can’t—avoid Wonwoo is while they’re at school. During those times, he tries his best to be the Kwon Soonyoung he used to be, but somewhere along the line, he’s grown complacent with his own feelings. Soonyoung isn’t sure what normal is for him anymore, except for the way his chest aches with tightness whenever he’s around Wonwoo now.
As the weeks crawl by, Soonyoung feels increasingly ridden with guilt. There are moments when he can see uncertainty flash across Wonwoo’s face, a hesitation that never once existed between them. He knows it’s because Wonwoo can tell something is wrong—just as he knows that Wonwoo’s always been bad at using his words, even more than him, and knows that it’s unlikely that Wonwoo will ever confront him about it.
Soonyoung is aware that it’s unfair of him. It’s wrong for him to act like this around Wonwoo, and Soonyoung wishes badly to tell Wonwoo that he’s done nothing wrong but be lovely and warm, and all the sort of things that Soonyoung yearns for.
Soonyoung is the problem. His Goose is the problem.
And he doesn’t want to lose his best friend, even if he wants to lose his Goose.
“What?” Soonyoung asks one day at lunch, injecting a brevity he doesn’t feel into his voice, when he catches Wonwoo staring at him over his sandwich. “Is there something on my face?” He pokes his tongue between the wires of his braces. “Or my teeth?”
Wonwoo stares at him, and silence fills the rooftop with a heaviness that makes Soonyoung want to run and hide away. His eyebrows scrunch up and his mouth purses into a frown. He looks troubled.
His heart thumps in his chest. Soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to smooth his thumb over the crease in Wonwoo’s brows. He wants to hold Wonwoo’s hand and not feel sweaty over it. He wants to tell Wonwoo that he has a Goose, and he doesn’t want to lose a best friend as a consequence.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo says instead, after a while. He reaches out, slowly as if Soonyoung will run away if he moves any faster, and brushes his thumb against the corner of Soonyoung’s mouth. His finger grazes Soonyoung’s bottom lip. Wonwoo always looks a little bit cold, but his touch has always been gentle. “You look dumb. Mayonnaise— here, let me—”
Soonyoung falters. He forgets to breathe, his lungs burning as electricity shoots tingles up and down his spine at Wonwoo’s touch. Wonwoo still hasn’t moved his thumb away. Warmth blossoms in Soonyoung’s chest, a subtle heat that spreads through his veins and spreads out to every limb and every inch of skin, and he prays with every atom in his body that he isn’t blushing.
This is it. This is how he’ll die. His heart beats against his ribcage so hard that Soonyoung fears he’ll explode, or have a heart attack, or both. 17 years old, a Goose trapped at home and probably tearing at his door to try and get to Soonyoung and Wonwoo to peck at them both until Soonyoung finally kisses him; horribly in love with his best friend who probably doesn’t even love him back. Soulmates are a scam, when there has never been any guarantee that your soulmate will be the same as your own.
It feels almost like an out-of-body experience as he holds Wonwoo’s gaze. Time suspends itself between them, to a mere trickle that leaves Soonyoung focused on nothing but the touch of Wonwoo’s finger and the intensity of his stare. He watches as Wonwoo opens his mouth, words poised on the tip of his tongue, a rare expression of determination settling on Wonwoo’s face. Soonyoung is certain his heart stops beating as he waits for whatever Wonwoo is about to say.
Except it doesn’t happen. Nothing happens—except, suddenly, Wonwoo yelps. His hand flies away from Soonyoung and lands on his bag instead. He stares down at his stupid bag, then back up at Soonyoung. There’s a moment of panic that crosses Wonwoo’s face, a sense of horror—
And Soonyoung gets it. It’s not forbidden to be with someone who isn’t your soulmate, given that not everyone is compatible with their soulmate nor do they find them, but there are those who feel as if it’s wrong. This must be it, then.
Wonwoo truly does not have Soonyoung as his soulmate. And— and maybe Wonwoo is even repulsed by him.
“Oh,” Soonyoung says without realizing it. “Um.” He blinks at Wonwoo, and blinks at the sudden burn in his eyes. Soonyoung sniffles, and to his embarrassment, he realizes he’s about to cry. “I gotta—”
Wonwoo has a terrified look on his face. “Wait—”
“I gotta poop,” Soonyoung blurts out. His breath comes out short and panicked. “Diarrhea!”
Before Wonwoo can say another word, Soonyoung turns and flees.
Soonyoung does not go poop. Instead, he runs down to his classroom and grabs his bag from the locker. “Tell the teacher I’m not feeling well,” he quickly instructs Jihoon, and runs home before Wonwoo can come find him and they have to discuss Soonyoung’s crush on him, and how he’s ruined their best friendship forever by having stupid feelings and a stupid Goose.
He does, however, have a stomach ache. He wonders whether being lovesick has psychosomatic symptoms. Soonyoung doesn’t know, but he lets his mom fuss over him. She bundles the blankets around both him and the Goose, tucks him in nice and tight, and kisses his forehead.
“You should talk to Wonwoo,” she tells him, not unkindly, and smiles a little when Soonyoung works his mouth into a heavy pout. His mom sighs and gets up to open the windows. “Then maybe some fresh air might make you feel better.”
“It won’t,” Soonyoung tells her dramatically. It earns him another kiss on the crown of his head before she promises to give him the space he asked for.
“He must think I’m gross,” he tells his Goose sadly once he’s alone again. Despite his resentment towards her, he can’t lie and say that he isn’t attached to her in some way—especially when she perches on top of his chest while he lays in bed, not unlike a kitten. Maybe in another lifetime, they could even be friends. Soonyoung pets her downy head with one careful finger. “What if he thinks I’m some twisted pervert?”
The Goose honks loudly in commiseration.
“We need to come up with a plan,” Soonyoung tells her, “I need to fix this somehow. I just don’t know how yet.” He sighs. She pecks her beak at his chest. “Ouch.”
He clutches a hand at his chest, right over where she pecked him. It hurts a little, a distant kind of pain that fades quickly.
This must be what heartbreak feels like, Soonyoung decides.