Genre: Romance, AU, Fluff??
Length: one shot
Warnings: A chunk of my bad writing.
Summary: On a cold winter morning, Baekhyun falls in love with the man that has a pair of dark, smoldering eyes, carrying a broken puppy on his arms. And Baekhyun thinks, the man is like a puppy itself –broken yet beautiful; in pain, yet fighting.
Disclaimer: All scenes are purely fictional and any similarities to reality are coincidental. Any sort of personal opinion in this work serves to aid the storyline. Characters may not be accurately portrayed in this work of fiction.
Notes: Reposted from my AFF account.
It is sometime around a cold morning of late November when the crisp wind of autumn bites on every pore of Baekhyun’s being, that he curses the streak of stupidity in his every fibre.
“Shit,” he aims to curse. Aim, because he wasn’t so successful. It only came as ‘shssss’ because his lips can’t not chatter, making it appear as if a vibrating machine is inside his mouth as his lips continue to titter.
This morning, he spent half a good hour debating whether he’ll bring his earth-coloured thick cashmere that looks too plain and shabby and not really appropriate for his rather flashy outfit that is a tight-fitting jeans paired by a V-neck grey hoodie; or settle with a thin black sweater that will complement his outfit altogether, making him look like he’s some celebrity who just finished his concert. Now he blames this thin sweater that does no good in his almost frozen body cursing fuck fashion I’m going to get hypothermia why is this even called a sweater and mentally sends a sorry cashmere you are way more useful I shall never ignore you again at the back of his mind. He tugs on each side of his sweater, wrapping it around his small frame, and of course, getting the same result that is no heat for you because he can’t feel his fingers anymore and he has no idea if his lips are still attached to his face or what.
For the second time in the day, he curses, “Fuck,” more determined and with more feelings because white pixies of seasons had started landing on his fingers, his head and his shoulders, tentative at first but gradually getting bolder, snaking up his face and making it numb all over, if it’s still possible. The white drops of snow dissolve as it fall off the ground, landing gracefully without a sound. He sighs; well it isn’t fashion to blame but his jinx-magnet self, right?
Baekhyun checks the watch on his wrist –10:43. Bus, bus, bus, come to Baekhyun, bus, he chants on himself.
Just then, as if it just magically heard him, the bus halts to a stop and he almost glares at it for taking so long. He scowls when the door opens and stomps his foot as he enters the bus.
He sits with a huff, wagging his head and arms to get rid of the snow that he caught with the snow outside. He is just leaning on his seat to close his eyes when he hears a small whimper emit from inside the bus. He snaps his eye open and looks around, frantic head turning to every side.
He catches sight of a guy sitting across him, carrying a small puppy on his arms.
The puppy is cappuccino brown, with fluffy-looking fur like a stuffed toy, it has a black button nose and a very, very dark eyes. The puppy looks so fragile on what he assumes the owner’s arms, puffing small breaths and purring on his master’s arms, looking comfortable in his embrace. There is a small bandage on his left leg and Baekhyun frowns at the sight. But then the puppy wheezes and Baekhyun finds himself almost keeling over in adoration. He looks up at the man holding the puppy and as cliché as it sounds, his breath catches on his throat.
The boy’s golden skin glows as the rays of morning sunlight catches on his face. He has the most prominent cheekbones and defined jaw Baekhyun has ever seen. His hair is dark and all mussed up but somehow, manages to look so attractive. He has the darkest and deepest eyes Baekhyun has ever looked at and he finds himself drowning in those dark orbs. Just then, the boy looks up and Baekhyun never thought his breath could catch so hard as to take his breath away.
And then just like that, Baekhyun finds himself scrambling on his seat to get to the other side of the bus, sitting himself beside the boy and looking at him intently in the eyes.
The boy’s brows are pulled together, and there’s a tight look on his face. Baekhyun offers a smile that says he’s harmless, and the boy actually seems to loosen up. “What’s his name?” he asks.
“Jjangu.” The boy answers; he has a deep voice, just like what Baekhyun had expected him to, and he pronounces every syllable carefully, as if he’s not sure with the words coming from his mouth. Baekhyun finds this endearing.
“What happened to him?” he asks, gesturing on the bandage on the puppy’s left leg.
The boy looks at him sceptically, probably thinking if he should be talking to a stranger. He carefully assesses Baekhyun and after scrutinizing him, convinced that he’s pretty harmless, answers, “He saved my other dog from falling off the stairs.”
Baekhyun raises an eyebrow for more explanation and the boy looks about to grumble about why he needs to explain to a stranger but then he just continues, “They were running around playing in the house when they fell, Jjangu blocked his body so that Monggu won’t have to hit his head first on the floor, and he hurt his leg,”
“Yeah, that’s the name of my other dog,” the boy says, petting his dog in the head when it starts to stir. “That’s nice of him,” Baekhyun comments.
“What did you do for first aid?”
“I –” the boy starts, as if unsure, “Well, I just wrapped around any available bandage on my first aid kit.” He answers honestly.
“You didn’t happen to pick him from the floor the moment he fell, right?” Baekhyun asks in disbelief. The boy looks embarrassed. “Well, he’s crying and whimpering and I thought …”
Baekhyun smiles at this. “Well, the bandage will do for now, but he needs to get real treatment from a vet.”
“Are you a vet?” the boy suddenly blurts out, eyes wide, a frown still evident on his face.
Baekhyun shakes his head. “I just love dogs,” he states. “I’m Baekhyun,”
The boy stares at him in surprise. He opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it again, seeming to think better of it. He absentmindedly strokes his pet’s head and worries his lip between his teeth before saying, “Kim Jongin.”
“Okay, Jongin, we’ll bring Jjangu to my vet friend. He’s good and I’m sure Jjangu will be given the proper treatment he deserves!” Baekhyun, with excessive cheerfulness, announces. And he watches as a tint of pink starts blossoming on the boy’s face as he splutters, “What –I wha –”
Baekhyun’s grin broadens as he slowly strokes the puppy’s chin with his index finger.
On a cold winter morning, Baekhyun falls in love with the man with smouldering gaze, carrying a broken puppy on his arms.
And Baekhyun thinks that the man is like the puppy itself –broken but beautiful; in pain, but fighting.
The next time Jongin and Baekhyun meets, Jongin almost trips on his own feet when he sees Baekhyun as he puts out the trash. Baekhyun beams at him and Jongin has enough boldness due to his morning coffee to actually ask, “What are you doing here?” more like, how did you know I live here?
“I’ve brought bandages,” Baekhyun answers, holding up a small plastic bag on his hand. “I came to visit Jjangu.”
Apparently, he hasn’t had enough coffee and the ‘he’s fine you can leave’ was lost somewhere between his grunts as he turns back, letting Baekhyun trail behind.
“Hi Jjangu,” Baekhyun coos, crouching down towards the dog to give his chin loving strokes; Jjangu rubs his head on his fingers and gives it few recognizing licks. It has been the second meeting since Baekhyun had brought the dog to his veterinary friend, and Jjangu seem to have taken a liking towards the boy. “I’ve brought treats!”
Jjangu leaps and licks his nose, tails enthusiastically wagging as he anticipates what Baekhyun has brought for him. “Arf, arf!” Baekhyun melts at the sight and brings out the different coloured dog biscuits to offer it to the puppy. Jjangu devours it happily.
Jongin watches in half amusement, half annoyance as his own pet seem to fancy another man. He folds his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know Jjangu likes being petted on the chin. I thought only cats like that.”
“You didn’t seem to know a lot of things,” Baekhyun comments, getting up the floor. “Where’s Monggu?”
“You don’t even know him,” Jongin scowls, going over the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Baekhyun follows after. “Well, that’s why I’m trying to get to know him, right?”
“Look,” Jongin starts. “I appreciate the help you’ve done for Jjangu, but he’s okay now and I don’t think Jjangu still needs yo –”
Just then, Jjangu starts barking on the floor and when Baekhyun and Jongin goes to where he is, he leaps up to Baekhyun’s leg, clutching on his pants. Baekhyun stares at him in surprise, but then he breaks out to a smile. “Seems like Jjangu is telling you a different story.”
He picks Jjangu on his arms and scratches the back of his ear. “Isn’t that right, Jjangu?”
Jjangu only barks and licks his nose.
“Jjangu is still cuter than Monggu,” Baekhyun says one day, slumped lazily on the floor as he plays with Jjangu and brings him his weekly ‘treats’.
“You haven’t even seen him personally.” Jongin answers, emerging from the kitchen to bring Baekhyun a cup of coffee. He places it on the table and sits on the couch. Baekhyun picks the mug of coffee and sits beside Jongin. “Don’t be ridiculous, you have picture of him in all angles on your phone, I may as well have seen him face to face already.”
Jongin frowns when he feels something cold touch his arm. He glances at Baekhyun’s figure and sees that there are drops of snows still lingering on his hair. “If you want to be with my dog, you should at least try to avoid catching a cold. He might get infected with it.”
“Sorry.” Baekhyun mumbles, wrapping his hands around his cup to get some warmth. Jongin stands and leaves his side. Moments later, Jongin emerges from his room and throws something on the couch. “Go get changed.”
Even as Baekhyun gets home, Jongin’s scent lingers on his nose and lulls him into dark eyes, golden skin, and full lips clad dream.
Thursday evening and Baekhyun comes a little late from work. He knocks on Jongin’s door with an apologetic smile, offering a take-out from McDonalds, saying, “Food?”
Jongin frowns at him and frowns a little harder seeing his shaking figure. So he opens the door and lets the older man in. “It’s late.” He states the obvious, padding through the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. Baekhyun follows after. “I’m sorry my boss asked me to stay late a little.”
Jongin bites his lip and hands him the coffee. “You didn’t have to come.” He whispers.
“I wanted to see Jjangu,” Baekhyun admits, blowing on his beverage.
“Right.” Jongin states, “He’s sleep –”
And just like before, Jjangu has betrayed his master again by happily barking and tugging at the hem of Baekhyun’s pants. “Hi there, little angel,” Baekhyun coos, patting the dog’s head, a lazy smile spread out on his face.
Jongin cringes at the pet name, sure that Jjangu will never like it, but then Jjangu barks again, this time, a little too loudly and rubs his head at Baekhyun’s fingers.
Jongin briefly wonders who Jjangu’s master is.
The next Thursday Baekhyun comes; it’s a bit later than the last time. This time, he’s bringing two cups of Starbucks, flashing Jongin an apologetic smile. Jongin sighs and lets him enter again without as much as a second glance.
“You really don’t have to come if it’s this late.” Jongin says firmly, about to brew another cup of tea. But then, he remembers the cups of Starbucks on Baekhyun’s hands and abruptly stops.
“You can always see Jjangu whenev –”
“I wanted to see you.” Baekhyun cuts him off, cheeks a little flushed. Jongin gulps and raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“I wanted to –” Baekhyun starts but is cut off when Jjangu appears from god-knows-where and barks at Baekhyun’s feet, tails wagging, beady eyes practically glowing, and very much enthusiastic.
Jongin has never felt more relieved for his dog’s spontaneous arrival than he is right now.
“When do I get to see Monggu?” Baekhyun asks through a mouthful of tonkatsu, petting Jjangu on his lap with his free hand. Jjangu purrs and wheezes at his touch, chest vibrating at the sound. Baekhyun has never stopped finding this endearing.
Jongin stops chewing on his rice. He drinks the glass of water on his side. “Probably never,” he answers.
Baekhyun looks at him from where he had been picking his meat with his chopsticks. “And I want you to stop seeing Jjangu, too.”
Baekhyun places down his chopsticks to look at Jongin in the eyes. The younger boy wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Why?” he demands.
“You’ve spoiled my pet enough that he probably doesn’t recognize who his master is anymore.” Jongin answers, rising on his seat so abrupt; his chair topples on his back. This alerts Jjangu and he stands on Baekhyun’s lap, barking at no one in particular. Baekhyun calms him down with his caress. “There, there, there,”
He places the dog on his mat and returns to Jongin on the dining table. Jongin is still standing with his fist on his side, firmly rooted to the spot. Baekhyun walks towards him and jabs him on the chest.
“Is that it?” Baekhyun demands. “That you’re worried Jjangu doesn’t know his owner anymore?”
“Yes,” Jongin hisses. “Is there any other reason?”
Baekhyun shrugs and takes a careful step towards Jongin. “Is there?”
Jongin looks at him through rebellious eyes. Then before Baekhyun could comment on how murderous he looks, Jongin tips his head down and presses his lips on Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun has had enough of the aftershock that even though Jongin’s lips aren’t moving, he kisses back, tilting his head to the side so Jongin’s plump lips can capture his thin ones. It started slow and languid, but just as they are getting to the part where they are comfortable with each other, someone barks, tugging on Baekhyun’s pants. Jjangu wags his tail so fast, eyes hopeful and shining, clueless about what he had just interrupted.
“Just…leave,” Jongin sighs, picking Jjangu on the floor. Baekhyun opens his mouth to speak but Jongin just says, “Leave,” firmer than ever.
The next Thursday, Baekhyun comes and is not surprised when no one opened the door for him. He tries calling for Jjangu on the windows but the house seems empty. He texts Jongin but it goes straight to voicemail. He resorts on leaving Jjangu’s treats by the window, ignoring how his heart is barking orders at him to go confront Jongin don’t be a chicken.
He comes back every other day, carrying his heavy heart and the hope that maybe one day Jongin will leave Hi Jjangu said thanks for the treats or hey I wish we can hang out again, Jjangu misses you. But of course, those are just wishful thinking. Jongin couldn’t even leave a single message or pick up a call from him.
Three weeks after, Baekhyun decides to stop.
Jongin can provide Jjangu treats of his own.
It is sometime around a hot morning of June when the damp wind of summer sticks on Baekhyun’s skin, that he curses the streak of stupidity in his every fibre.
“Shit,” he curses. “Summer is hell.”
This morning, he spent half a good hour debating whether he’ll wear his yellow cardigan or settle for a plain white shirt. But plain isn’t really Baekhyun’s favourite word, so despite the 31 degree Celsius, he wears his cashmere, for the sake of fashion because if nobody breaks out from plain then what would become of our world. He should have not though, because there are sweat trailing at either side of his head and he can feel the bead of perspire rolling on his neck and Baekhyun thinks he’s just gross altogether.
Sometimes plain is good, Baekhyun thinks, trying his best to wipe every ounce of sweat with his small handkerchief.
“Fuck,” Baekhyun curses as his most cherished handkerchief falls on the ground, collecting dust on the sidewalk instead of his sweat. This is not his day, Baekhyun thinks. But then again, when is it ever Byun Baekhyun’s day?
He turns, about to leave the bus station (because if he’s already sticky and sweat then what’s the point of taking the bus, right?), when a small tug on his feet brings him to his senses.
“Rfff!” the small white puppy, obviously happy, greets Baekhyun. It takes Baekhyun a while not to melt because the cream-coloured little puppy is just so adorable and it reminds him of a certain adorable boy with a pair of dark eyes.
He crouches, just about to pick the puppy up from the ground when a pair of sneakers appears in front of him. He follows the figure with his eyes and lands on a boy with dark eyes, the sun that catches on his face making him look like an angel with the heaven shining down on him. He opens his mouth in an attempt of a formal greeting, it only comes as ack! though.
“Is this –” Baekhyun starts to ask, but he is cut off when Jongin steps towards him and presses his lips on Baekhyun’s sticky ones. Jongin’s lips are just as Baekhyun remembers, sweet and plump minus the cracks and he thinks it’s a little moist now.
“Monggu.” Jongin announces, breaking away from the kiss. “I want you to meet Monggu.”
Baekhyun just smiles and takes Jongin’s hand.
[A/N]: Unedited and unbetaed WHAT DID YOU JUST READ. BYE.
Title: Not Like the Movies
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Length: One shot
Summary: When Yixing falls in love, the world does not light up brighter, the wind still feels a little too cold against his skin, there are no sweaty palms, no dry throats, and there are no fast heart rates either. There is just this steady thumping of his heart against his chest, identical to some boy with an impassive look forever planted on his face. Or maybe that look doesn’t have to be there forever.
not like the movies.
It is by pure divine intervention that Yixing finds himself in a booth in some coffee shop three blocks away from his flat, nursing his third cup of coffee since the moment he got there. If by divine intervention you mean Lu Han widening his eyes, pouting and faking a sad look (because Lu Han is never sad) saying, “Please, please, please Yixing, I beg you. This’ll be good for your non-existent social life, all the while I can keep Jongin and Sehun to myself please”, then yes, it is a pure manifestation of divine intervention. Because like what Lu Han had pointed out, Yixing’s social life seemed pretty much non-existent. The rare chances that he ever goes out are moments when the call of necessity to buy groceries to supply his monster appetite and feed his sweet tooth demands his attention. The only interaction with a talking organism he ever gets is with Lu Han invading his flat, his personal space, and his life, which Yixing can probably think as an equivalent of going into a night club, with the amount of talking and loudness Lu Han makes. Not that he’s ever been in a night club before, but he imagines it’ll be the same with Lu Han around.
Thankfully, his line of work doesn’t demand anything within the line of necessarily interacting with people. He does his compositions and submit it into the head office when it’s due, not to mention he can email it or just ask Lu Han to do it knowing that the older boy would be more than glad to see the cute receptionist who likes abusing the concept of kohl in his eyes. Yixing finds the boy weird. Lu Han finds him hot. But then again, Yixing is the complete deviation of the ball of sunshine that is Lu Han, with the melancholic look on his face, and the occasional flight of his mind from the present world.
Lu Han sums his life in one word: boring. Yixing sums it in two: peaceful and in order. Lu Han likes spontaneity, Yixing sticks with routine. That is probably why he looks so surprised upon the arrival of that ‘cute little thing’ because his appearance is anything that Yixing has ever expected to be. He expects something within the line of combusting energy, someone who can catch up to Lu Han’s energy, instead, he sees a pasty boy who looks as if he’s live the world so long that the prospect of staying on it already bores him. Well, he’s not about to judge but –
“Did Lu Han send you this time?” the boy asks, his tone of voice a complete flat on Yixing’s ears. Yixing flushes because this isn’t the first time Lu Han has done it? He loves Lu Han and all, but sometimes, the things he do doesn’t meet Yixing’s moral standards anymore, not that he ever judges him for it, but, he simply doesn’t want to get involved with it.
“Umm yeah, he said he’s going to do some stuff –”
“That’s okay.” Sehun (Lu Han had told him) cuts him off, taking the seat opposite him. “Can I get you something?”
There’s nothing really hostile with Sehun’s face, but there’s nothing cordial about it either. And it ticks Yixing off. It ticks him the wrong way because he is not used to not being able to look on different kind of expression, of faces, even though most of the times, all he ever sees are faces of Lu Han when he’s excited, his face when he’s pissed, his face when he is melancholic, his smile, his laugh, his sour expressions, his smirks. Maybe Lu Han is right after all, he really needs a life because times like this are times when he doesn’t know how to deal with the situation. But then again, he wouldn’t be in this situation if it’s not for Lu Han.
In his trip between the present world and his own, he imagines this pale boy’s eyes turning into crescents as his lips curve upward in a smile, lines forming on each side of his face. He figures that he likes to see just how pretty his imagination would be if it comes to life. He would very much like to see it personally.
“Umm excuse me?” a voice kicks him away from his own world, taking him back to the soft couch of the coffee shop, eyes adjusting to the warm light. He gives a shaky laugh. “Ah… I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, giving the boy a dimpled smile as a sign of apology. Sehun merely nods at him, his face still devoid of any emotion. He wonders if his social ability is that rusty that Sehun can’t bring himself to form some sort of expression because Yixing being in his company isn’t just worthy. He wonders how Lu Han’s natural ability to make people smile without even doing anything makes Sehun’s face form an ear-splitting grin, coupled with pink-tinted cheeks and a warm heart. He blinks these unpleasant thoughts away. He hears Sehun sigh.
“You do that a lot, don’t you?”
Yixing furrows his eyebrow. “Huh?” he answers rather dumbly. Because smart is Yixing.
The smart one blinks again. “Huh?”
“You space out a lot,” Sehun simply answers, leaning back on the couch, face as blank as Yixing’s new music sheet.
Yixing has the capacity to blink again.
“And blinks your eyes a lot too.”
“You really look good if only you’ll smile.” Yixing blurts because he is smart. Really smart. His eyes widen when the realization of what he just said hit him like a tsunami.
“I mean, I’m sorry, there isn’t really much to order in a coffee shop so coffee?”
He thinks the slight quirking of Sehun’s eyebrow is what you’ll call a normal human’s frown. Except, those eyes that look about to drop anytime don’t change.
“That’s your third cup of coffee, don’t you think you’ll get an overdose?” he points at the cup Yixing is holding.
Yixing lets go of the cup and glares at it as if it had just given him away. “How did you know?”
“I’ve been here thirty minutes earlier than you –”
“I got here first.”
“–and is not sure whether to approach this table or what because you, in any way, doesn’t look like Lu Han and you’re occupying the table where he said he’ll be.”
Yixing doesn’t know whether to be offended by his statement. He could just ask. And he does. “Do I need to get offended with that or what?”
Sehun raises both eyebrows in what Yixing assumes to be a lazy manner. “Get offended with what?”
“That I do not look like Lu Han because Lu Han is gorgeous?”
Yixing thinks he hear Sehun snort. But when he looks at his face, it is still the complete facade of a blank sheet of paper.
“You have dimples.” Sehun states simply, shrugging.
“What does that mean?” Yixing demands sharply because he is really, really, really ticked off by the poker face and it’s making him snap.
“That I’m complementing you?” Sehun supplies; Yixing’s eyes widen because is Lu Han’s boylet hitting on him? He doesn’t acknowledge the little queasy feeling at the pit of his stomach. Sehun’s face isn’t giving anything anyway, so why assume? (although he would like to think that is something of normalcy based on what he observed the moment Sehun showed his face to him)
“Thanks?” Yixing offers, assessing the boy’s face for possibly flattery he could send him. He finds none. Okay frankly, he finds it odd that everything looks fucking endearing. If only he’ll smile, he thinks. He doesn’t mean to say that aloud.
“You keep pressing on that smile thing,” Sehun says, gesturing for a waiter to come their table. Yixing averts his gaze from his face and into the vintage wallpaper of the shop –anything but his face.
He still hasn’t thought of an answer (if Sehun is even waiting for one because everything he says is in monotone, it is hard to decipher if he ever needs one) but thankfully, the waiter appears, bringing two menus that he gives to each of them.
“I’ll get caramel cream puffs, please,” he tells the waiter as soon as he handed him the menu (just in case Sehun presses for an answer though that is just him and his wishful thinking)
“With 100 percent of sugar please,” he adds as an afterthought, then directs his gaze on the menu again, making himself look like he’s immersed with the not-so-extravagant menu of the shop.
He hears Sehun’s voice say, “I’ll get a slice of caramel cake. Please add syrup,” Yixing tears his gaze away from the menu to face Sehun because –
“That’ll be too sweet, Sehun!”
“So?” Sehun raises an eyebrow. (but darling baby, wow, his face still has that uni-expression aka that poker face)
“I tried it once and I’m sure you’ll blanch!”
Yixing forgets that the shop’s waiter is still beside them, hands perched in a notebook to get their orders, he speaks, “Sir, our cakes here are very good, no matter how plenty the amount of sugar you put,” looking affronted.
Yixing flashes an angelic-apologetic smile to the waiter (Lu Han says his smile, when his dimples appear looks angelic, okay).
“It doesn’t matter. I like sweets.” Sehun shrugs, scanning the menu once more for potential orders.
The tips of Yixing’s ears redden. “You don’t look like it,” he deadpans. Sehun looks up to cast a wary glance at his face.
“Do you want to order anything else?” he says instead, handing the menu to the waiter beside them. Yixing looks down on his lap and shakes his head, “No, not really, thanks.” He hands the menu to the waiter as well. He hears him say a ‘that would be all thank you’ to the waiter and leans back on the couch again. Yixing looks up.
“I like sweets too?”
Sehun peers at him and nods. Seeming to remember something, Sehun moves his body forward and rests his elbow on the table, tucking his chin in between his palms. “You haven’t told me your name.”
Yixing suddenly looks affronted. “Zhang Yixing,” he says, feeling bitter that over the twenty minutes they spent together (mostly with Yixing just staring into space) Sehun has the decency to ask for his name only now.
“It’s nice to meet you, Zhang Yixing I’m –”
“Oh Sehun, I know,” Sehun’s mouth forms an ‘O’ and Yixing is not distracted by it. No, definitely not.
“Are you Chinese too?” he asks.
“Yes,” Yixing answers, leaning back on the couch and resting his arms on the table.
“Your Korean sounds good.”
“Are you hitting on me, Sehun?” Yixing blurts, face an epitome of nothing but pure curiosity. Sehun raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“But –” Yixing is about to protest when he sees Sehun’s lazy face and got infected by the laziness too, so
“Nothing, never mind, forget that I even asked.”
And then silence ensues and looks as if no one is going to give in and break it. Yixing is used by the silence; to him, it is an old friend, welcomed and warm and always pleasant. So the silence between the two of them now shouldn’t have been unsettling. But no, with Sehun, it was maddening. He just wants to talk and talk and talk and never stop because that way, he might get something of Sehun’s stolid face. He couldn’t help but try.
“Hey, Luhan really personally wants to go here if not for personal matters he needs to attend to…” Yixing starts even though Luhan is not apologetic in the slightest. This time, he really hears Sehun snort.
“By personal matters you mean chasing that tan dancer he’d been eyeing for almost a month?” he says, voice dead just like his face. Yixing swallows. There’s no use lying to him now, right?
“How do you know?” Yixing asks, feeling cautious in case Sehun is a bomb he may tick the wrong way and explode anytime.
Sehun’s answer comes immediately. “I’m not dumb.”
Yixing’s mouth forms an ‘O’ and he leans back on the couch once more, willing himself to blend in the wallpaper because this is fucking embarrassing. Everything he did for the past few minutes is embarrassing. Thankfully, the waiter comes on time again (he really tells himself to give this waiter a nice tip because he always comes in the right time to save his face from his embarrassment, that is, if he’ll remember) and he is saved from yet another humiliating confrontation.
He wants to ask why, why, why does he still stay with Lu Han even though he knows he’s cheating on him and is aware of his fickle personality? Yixing badly wants to ask but he doesn’t want to look like he’s prying too much. And though blank, he knows Sehun’s mood is already dampened, the air of sourness engulfing the whole table.
Maybe he can force some kind of reaction from him in the future. For now, he gotta eat his cream puffs and will his mouth to shut up.
“And sooooo Kim Jongin is his name but he goes by the name of ‘Kai’, cool, right?” Lu Han relates his experience to Yixing happily while the latter drifts from his dreamland and into the music sheet in front of him. He isn’t practically enthusiastic by Lu Han’s boy escapade, especially since he feels like Lu Han plans to toy on every hot boy there is in the world. Possible, because Lu Han just had that charm on everyone. He thinks that Kai is a weird name though.
“And god, he has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, Yixing!” he says again, this time, hitting Yixing’s biceps purposefully to take him back to the real word. Yixing sighs. “Not even Kris?”
Lu Han frowns at him. “Who’s Kris?”
“That very tall guy with deep voice who applies cream to his face more than you do and –”
“Oh!” Lu Han chirps in, clapping his hands together. “Yes, yes, I remember! Well, he’s big and tall so it’s only natural to have large voice, right? But Jongin –Jongin has this voice as sweet as honey I think I might probably settle with him, Xing. I can feel it, this time I know he’s for –”
“You always say the same thing to every boyfriend you have, Lu,” Yixing reminds him.
“No! But I’m really sure –”
“Had repeated the same thing over a hundred times already, too.” Lu Han huffs and pouts, leaning back on Yixing’s bed.
“How about Sehun?” Yixing asks quietly, drawing little patterns on the scratch paper right under his ballpen.
“What about Sehun?” Lu Han asks, oblivious to the sudden change on the tone of his best friend’s voice.
“He knows, Lu Han,” Yixing informs, casting a wary look on his best friend’s face.
“Okay.” Lu Han answers immediately, reaching over Yixing’s bed to pick up his phone.
“Okay?” Yixing frowns, eyeing Lu Han’s movement for something that might indicate he cares about what Sehun wouldfeel.
There is none.
“We’re still dating, aren’t we? If he doesn’t like to anymore then that’s okay, I won’t force him,” Lu Han leaves the room and Yixing is left with a frown on his face and a bitter taste on his mouth.
It is not by divine intervention that Yixing finds himself in a coffee shop three blocks away from his flat, nursing his third cup of coffee. It is not by some Lu Han charm and blackmailing either. Sometimes, aside from gravitating back and forth to his own world and the present world, he does things out of the right state of his mind, out of his discretion. Like secretly going through Lu Han’s contacts and getting a number without his permission. Totally out of his discretion.
He hears the familiar monotone. It is probably meant to come as a question, but the usual lazy tone of his voice makes it impossible to convey the distinct way of putting ideas into words.
“Hi Sehun,” he flashes a dimpled smile that falls into a sheepish smile under the said guy’s scrutinizing gaze. He looks away.
He takes the opposite seat, just like the first time. “What’s up?” he asks casually. But to Yixing, it comes as ‘why did you want to meet up’. Yixing gulps.
“How are you?” Yixing decides to side-track, because really, how is he going to say ‘nothing much, just wanted to see your poker face and maybe, elicit some reaction to it’ without embarrassing himself in the process?
“I’m fine, I guess, how about you?”
Yixing hears can you stop beating around the bush instead.
Sometimes, Yixing says things out of his discretion too.
“Why won’t you break it off with Lu Han?”
Yixing doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Yixing needs to see a doctor for possible creatures silently hiding inside his body and taking over when he’s in a moment of weakness.
Yixing is not in love.
Sehun stares some more.
Sehun is really judging him now.
“Hello good morning, may I take your order, sir?” the waiter, the all-almighty saver waiter emerges from God-knows-where again and saved Yixing for the day. Yixing literally wants to hug the waiter now. He breathes a sigh of relief.
“Yes, may we have the menu –”
“No, we’ll just call for you when we’re prepared to order,” Sehun interrupts, shooting a knowing glance on the waiter. Yixing wants to beg and clutch the waiter’s leg because please please please for the sake of humanity don’t go. But to no avail, the waiter nods and turns their back against them, attending to another customer. Yixing eyes his every move, horrified, because ohmygosh I’m not tipping you, you left me when I needed you most.
Sehun pulls him out of his reverie. “Yixing.”
“Hi, hello, I think we should order first?” Yixing gives a shaky laugh, searching the café for any signs of a waiter.
“I think I’ll try that caramel cake with –”
“You’re asking me to break it off with Lu Han?”
“–extra syrup. Yes.”
“Okay.” Sehun answers simply, fishing his phone out of his pocket and starts typing something. Yixing stares with mouth agape.
After a while of staring (and successfully not drooling), Sehun flashes him his iPhone and commands, “Read,”
Lu Han, thank you for weeks of experience. I had fun.
But I had gotten over my initial attraction towards you so
I’m breaking it off now. I wish you all the best with your escapade.
Have fun with that dancer!
Yixing stares. Yixing, really, really stares. Yixing squints and rereads but I had gotten ove –
“Is this good enough? Or should I add more melodramatic shit they use on break ups?” Sehun says, looking over his screen and seeming to contemplate on something. Yixing opens his mouth to speak but no sound that comes out. He just closes it again for the sake of not drooling.
“I’m sending it now.” Sehun places the phone on the table and leans back on the couch. “Should we order something now?”
“Oh, look, it’s sent,”
“Wait, what, you’re not serious –”
“He replied,” Sehun answers, showing the screen to Yixing’s wide eyes.
Okay. I had fun too. I’ll keep your pink brief for remembrance, yeah?
And Yixing really couldn’t stop the drool that befalls his mouth anymore.
Sehun picks a tissue and wipes his mouth. “Shall we start with ordering that caramel cake with additional syrup?”
Because fuck, doesn’t he get to have any say on this?
Two weeks later and Yixing is found giggling in the corner of his bedroom, music sheet forgotten in the table by a very annoyed Lu Han.
“Who are you flirting with?” Lu Han demands seeing that he is practically being ignored ever since he stepped on the solace of Yixing’s music room. Yixing pockets the phone and sits up straight, going for a poker face he learned from Sehun.
(Because one time, he was at Sehun’s place and he had demanded, “How do you keep that blank face on and still keep it even when I’m practically throwing a fit to see something on your face?”
Sehun shrugged and wrapped his arm around Yixing’s shoulders. “I was born with it.”
Yixing rolled his eyes but pressed his body back against the strong chest of Sehun. “Teach me how to do it,” Yixing pouted, showing his dimpled cheek that he had learned to be Sehun’s weakness.
And true enough, Sehun groaned and massaged his forehead with his free arm before saying, “You’re not born with very droopy eyes and a nonchalant face,”
Times like this are times when Yixing’s dimple is used to manipulate. He feigned a hurt look. “Fine.” Yixing pried himself away from Sehun’s arm and started to get up.
“No!” Sehun said, pulling Yixing back through his arms. “Okay, Jesus, just think of bad experiences you had and your face will automatically form that face.”
Yixing frowned and tried to think of anything that made him frown before. His brain had come up blank. “I don’t have many experiences to remember. I can’t even remember what I had eaten yesterday.”
And to which, Sehun’s head had planted on Yixing’s neck to which triggered Yixing’s sensitivity on that part and he rolled on the floor laughing, begging Sehun to stop.)
Yixing tries to remember that instance right now but instead of a stoic expression, his face just splits into an eat-shitting grin when he remembers finding Sehun’s ticklish part that brought tears on the corner of the younger’s eyes, with his mouth pulled upward harshly on the corners and Yixing thought he never saw a smile so endearing before. (even though he had to admit that the drool on his chin is a little weird)
Lu Han snaps him out of his thought. “See! You’re smiling to yourself! Yixing, I do not approve of not knowing who you’re giving your heart to!”
Yixing straightens his shirt. “No one’s getting my heart, Lu,”
Right, because Yixing is not really in love, is he? He hasn’t experience looking into Sehun’s eyes and felt his heartbeat race to a thousand miles per hour (but he does feel his heart stop whenever Sehun looks him intently in the eyes) or hold hands with him and feel his palms get a little clammy (to which he is thankful because that would be gross), or even press his lips against Sehun’s thin one and feel the world slow to a stop (though he feels a jolt of electricity whenever Sehun will slip his tongue on his mouth and nibble lightly on his lower lip) that movies say you should feel if you’re in love.
He doesn’t experience being kissed on a beach, right in front of an orange sky, being reflected on the water whenever the sun sets too. He doesn’t see Sehun’s eyes form into crescents whenever he laughs around Yixing’s presence and Yixing can’t help but wonder if he’s still not good enough to put a genuine smile on Sehun’s face.
He doesn’t feel Sehun’s heart beat an abnormal speed whenever he’ll rest his ears against the younger male’s chest but he does admit that he hears their heart beat in sync with one another.
So no, Yixing is most definitely not in love. “Nobody’s getting my heart, Lu Han,” he repeats again, this time, with more conviction. Somehow, it feels as if someone had just lightly pinched his heart and sprinkled salt into that little puncture. And even though it’s light, the ache that travels from that little part of his heart, down to his hands, and to his feet is enough to bring some sort of moisture on the corner of his eyes that he most certainly wouldn’t like anybody to see. Not even Lu Han.
Sehun is trying to ignore the judging gaze he can feel burning on the left side of his cheek.
The fundamental purpose of using -
“Okay Yixing what is it?” Sehun stops typing altogether, ending the last letter with a loud clack from his keyboard; he turns to Yixing on his side.
Yixing blinks his eyes. “What?”
“You’re staring,” Sehun states as he presses Ctrl S then closes his laptop shut to stare at Yixing. Yixing fidgets on his seat uncomfortably. He plays with his fingers, tangling and untangling it with one another and worrying on his bottom lip as he does it. Sehun takes Yixing’s hands and presses it on each side of his face, his hands holding it firmly in place. He looks at Yixing in the eyes. “What is it?”
Yixing, for lack of any better excuses to say, and feeling sort of distracted with Sehun’s smooth skin under his palm, blurts, “Are we in love, Sehun?”
Sehun raises an eyebrow and studies Yixing’s face, then he retracts his hands above Yixing’s and Yixing feels oddly cold and empty without Sehun’s hands holding his tightly. Sehun’s laugh sounds sardonic in Yixing’s ears. “You decide, are we?”
Yixing retracts his hands from each side of Sehun’ cheek altogether before saying, “We probably just got carried away by the moment,”
“Is that right?” Sehun says in a quiet voice, turning his back against Yixing.
The silence that engulfs them ranges from awkward to awful.
Suddenly, the chilly breeze brought by the wind of late autumn seems more inviting than the coldness surrounding the both of them.
Yixing is watching Twilight again, repeating the part when everything had slowed down the moment Bella Swan saw Edward Cullen, over and over again. Lu Han almost blanches at the sight. “You don’t even like Kristen Stewart, Xing,” Lu Han reminds him, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off.
Yixing huffs but doesn’t complain. “I’m trying to figure things out,” he says, feeling something with his palm on the couch. Lu Han frowns. “What are you searching for?”
“Where’s my phone?” Yixing looks up, frowning.
“Didn’t you bury it under your pillow a while ago?”
Yixing dashes to his room and throws every pillow on the bed to the floor. He keys in the phone lock and feels an immediate pang of disappointment surge through his veins upon seeing the phone the same as he left it.
“Were you waiting for a call?” Yixing hears Lu Han come from the doorway. The bed then dips down with a sudden weight pressed on it, Yixing looks up. “Is it from work?”
Yixing feels a wave of guilt surge through him. “I asked Sehun to break up with you, Lu,” he suddenly confesses.
Lu Han blinks his eyes at him, staring. Yixing looks at him wearily. “Say something, Lu, if you’re mad, say it,”
Lu Han looks mildly confused. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Lu Han repeats. “As in, okay, why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” Yixing starts, trying to grasp the right words to say; Lu Han beats him to it before he could get out a word. “Oh my god, Yixing!”
“Are you in love with Sehun, Xing?”
“Probably not,” Yixing murmurs, locking and unlocking the phone on his hand.
“Why not?” Lu Han whines, flopping down Yixing’s bed entirely. Yixing considers on saying why don’t you come move in with me Lu Han since you mostly occupy the space in this house and use all of the supplies might as well pay for it, but he doesn’t because at the moment, Yixing is busy thinking of really, why am I not in love with Sehun again?
“I don’t know, Lu,” Yixing answers truthfully. “The world does not light up brighter, the wind still feels a little too cold against my skin, there are no sweaty palms, no dry throats, and there are no fast heart rates either, there’s only this steady thumping of my heart identical to Sehun’s. And his face doesn’t give anything away either, too,”
Lu Han just smiles as if he knows something Yixing doesn’t.
Yixing is banging his head against the wall, muttering profanities against the phone he’s clutching on his hand. Yixing glares at the screen showing Lu Han’s betrayal by not picking up his phone. Sehun clears his throat and Yixing glares at him too.
“I’m still here, Xing, am I not?”
There’s a cute tint in Sehun’s cheek as he holds out a bouquet of flower on Yixing’s face, wearing a dress shirt and a grey blazer over a matching pair of slacks. He arrived ten minutes ago (how Sehun knows where he lives, Yixing can only suspect Lu Han), asking Yixing if he can take him out on a date when in reality, Yixing is really left with no option because Sehun is handsomely dressed today and it’s really not his fault if he feels oddly attracted and in no condition of turning the boy down. The problem is, he doesn’t exactly know where this is coming from especially since Sehun is walking towards him now, bouquet forgotten on the floor and –
“Sehun, what are you doing, let me down!” Yixing screams, flailing, as Sehun carries him on his arms, bringing him out of his apartment. Yixing hits Sehun’s arms and face repeatedly, feeling utterly embarrassed because, “Sehun only newly-wed couple does this!” and, “Are you kidnapping me?!” to which, Sehun only grumbles, “Shut up or I’ll drop you, head first on the cold cement.”
So by the time they reached Sehun’s car, Yixing had mostly shut up because,
- The people on the other apartments are now looking at them, bickering against each other
- He really wouldn’t appreciate falling on the floor and hurting his body on the process
- It actually feels good on Sehun’s arms though he would hardly admit it and
- Because he noticed the flush on Sehun’s face and truthfully, he could spend the rest of the day just staring at it.
“Are you seriously taking me out on a date while I’m wearing only this?” Yixing grumbles, pointing at his black sweatpants and loose white shirt. Sehun gives him a once-over before smiling, a real smile, with Sehun’s eyes turning to moon crescents and his mouth curving upward beautifully on his face. Yixing’s heart does a little back-flip on his chest and the stupid grin that appeared on his face is not something he could control. It is totally out of his discretion.
Sehun pulls Yixing on his arms and murmurs something on his head. Yixing sighs happily because Sehun’s chest is warm and very much alive, beating in a steady pace the same as his.
(And later on, when Sehun brought him on the beach and kissed him breathless, with Sehun apologizing that there’s no air to sweep their hair for dramatic effect, Yixing thinks that being with Sehun still isn’t like what he sees on the movie. Somehow, it feels better than that because it might not be as romantic but at least it is very much real.)
[A/N]: Because 1k that became 5k+ and I hate myself because WHAT DID I WROTE I was merely trying to use the prompt because I’m losing my mind with too many feels and AGH hi please forgive me.
When Sehun comes home from school on a hot afternoon, a chocolate boba tea in one hand, and a wintermelon on the other, and sees Luhan’s sullen face, looking out in the dusty window of their dorm room, he knows that the wintermelon with extra tapioca pearls with 50% sugar only (just like how Luhan likes it) will soon fill his chocolaty stomach and will disable him to eat dinner afterwards.
Nonetheless, he approaches his roommate.
“Hi hyung!Bought you your faveyboba tea!”
Said hyungdoesn't even bother looking his way.
“How have you been, hyung?”Sehun asks instead, flopping down on the opposite bunk as he removes his shoes, tossing it to the floor.
Even with the bad odour of Sehun’s feet that usually emits a violent reaction from one Luhan, the latter didn’t even spare a single glance on the younger boy. Sehun turns to look at Luhan, and when he sees that the doe-eyed male barely even moved from his position, he gives an awkward laugh.
“You’re fine, thank you? Aren’t you going to ask about me?”
“What about you?” Luhan drawls, his lack of interest very evident with the monotonous tone of his voice.
“Fine hyung,” Sehun rolls his eyes and throws his emptied chocolate boba tea in a trashcan. He pokes the new straw on the supposed-to-be Luhan’s beverage, “very fine because I get to enjoy this boba tea I skipped lunch to buy since it seems like you don’t want it anyway.”
“I thought you bought that for me?”
“Not anymore, hyung. Not anymore. Since it looks like you’d rather use those lips for pouting than drinking this delicious boba tea.”
“With 50% sugar only.” He adds as an afterthought.
Luhan chances a glance at the beverage on the younger boy’s hand. “I hate you Oh Sehun.”
It is one hot afternoon when something finally snaps inside Sehun.
After class, he makes it a point to go straight to the all-knowing oracle, of course, not without being armed by a bag full of organ-failure-making-food.
“What exactly,” Sehun starts as he munches on his cheese flavoured Ruffles, not so subtly wavingit on Yixing’s face, “is your best friend’s problem these days?”
“I’ve no idea.” Yixing says absent-mindedly, eyeing the junk food with heated eyes. He tries snatching the food from Sehun’s grip but Sehun already foresee something like this and is quick to dodge the food away.
“Yixing hyung.” Sehun says in monotone, arching a suggestive eyebrow at the older male.“I heard Doritos has now a barbeque flavour. I bought it as soon as I saw it available in the nearest Korean convenient store.”
The dimpled male eyes’ widens ever so slightly and Sehun smirks as his hyung emits a reaction he is aiming for.
“I could give it to you,” Sehun smiles his maknae-innocent smile and chews rather exaggeratedly. “If you’ll just cooperate.”
“How could you do this to me Sehunah,” Yixing, horrified, wails. Sehun knows he already won this battle.
“From what he told me, Jongin pecked a girl’s cheek in front of him,” Sehun raises an eyebrow, “and apparently, this girl’s very pretty.”
“So?” Yixing asks, confused.
“So what does that have to do with Luhan’s PMS?
“He’s obviously upset with the whole kissing thing!”Yixing shrieks in exasperation, rolling his eyes from his dongsaeng’s seem to be low intelligence (or isdumbnessinborn?).
“Why is he upset? What’s the big deal?” Sehun presses, brows furrowed because he does not understand.
“Because when you kiss someone –ohmygod Sehun why are you only born with looks and not with brains?”
“I am born with both, thank you very much. And?” Sehun, affronted, straightens from his sit and attempts to tilt his head upward to get some dignity.
“I really don’t know anything else because that is the only thing Lu’s been upset about since –”
Sehun’s eyes widen; he cuts Yixing off. “Okay. You are not actually going to mention that I accidentally peed on his bed –”
Sehun clamps his hands over his mouth, showing an overdramatic widening of the eyes. Yixing looks at him funny then switches his gaze over the pack of potato fries, mind already gearing up with ways to snatch the damn food away.“You’re not going to mention to Lu that I am the one who told you about it, right?” Yixing asks.
Sehun frowns at him and raises an eyebrow. “Who else knows about his misery?”
“None except himself and me?”
Sehun hits his head on his palm because his hyung is just as dumb. He nods with a sour face on his face as he picks a pack of Doritos poking out on his bag. “Here’s your reward –”
Even before Sehun could finish his statement, Yixing is already on his own world, on a far, far, faraway land.
It is sometime around after Biology class that Lu Han comes home with a suspicion that something is very wrong inside their dorm. His used clothes which he usually just throws on the hamper are neatly folded on the corner; all of his shoes are lined up in a shoe rack, forming a front line for a battalion of shoe fight; his books that are thrown carelessly on his bed are neatly tucked on his shared study table with Sehun; their blue-turned-black curtain is replaced by a clean, yellow one that made the room light up a little brighter. (that curtain had protected them from severe dust for a year already actually) He climbs his bed, and is not surprised that the foil packs of his Lays and Loackers are nowhere to be found too.
The door of the bathroom opens and Sehun comes out, white towel hanging low on his hip, hair dishevelled and dripping wet. Lu Han raises an eyebrow and gulps because body and muscles.
Sehun sees Lu Han’s bag thrown on the floor and he looks up, smiling when he sees the older male on his bunk. “Hi hyung!” he greets, voice and face a little too cheerful to Lu Han’s liking. Lu Han looks at the naked glory of his bare torso, taking into account that his dongsaeng has abs and his muscles are well-defined, the porcelain smooth-looking skin only added to the reason why he gulps. Again.
He shrugs and acts nonchalant. “Get dressed. You’re going to catch a cold.”
Sehun obliges, Lu Han hears the familiar pulls and pushes of his drawer. Not long after, he feels his bed dip with an added weight of someone. He looks over and raises his eyebrows. “Off my bed!” he shrieks, making sure to emphasize the word ‘my’ when he sees the boy invading his personal space.
Sehun just smiles and hugs the pillow that he brought. “Nope.”
Lu Han freaks out and starts to shake Sehun’s figure like some disease he doesn’t want to get infected with. “No, no, no, get off!”
Sehun just ‘mmmm’s and remained oblivious to Lu Han’s attempt on shoving him off. Lu Han smacks his in the head. “I don’t share!”
Sehun remains nonchalant. “I swear Sehun I’m going to kick your ass of the bed and you’re going to tumble on the floor so hard!”
Just then, Sehun opens his eyes and flashes his most wounded puppy-look- hyung-you-can’t-do-this-to-me look that makes anyone think that they are probably going to hell if they deny this, or maybe they’ll get a lifetime sentence for denying a cute; Lu Han huffs.
“Buingbuing?”Sehun tries, blinking his eyes and using his fucking charm nobody could resist.
“What is wrong with you Sehun?” Lu Han demands; climbing down the top bunk to switch the light off. He crawls on the bed and turns his back against Sehun, murmuring about something like ‘manipulative brat’ and ‘bed is too crowded for your lanky body’ and ‘don’t dare kick me I’ll kick your balls’ as he wraps the blanket around his body, facing the wall.
Sehun does not say anything. Neither does Lu Han. But Lu Han knows Sehun is still awake, he knows the rate of Sehun’s breathing when he sleeps; this is not the steady breathing he usually makes. Three beats of silence envelopes them, then Sehun starts to shift on the bed to face Lu Han’s back. “Hyung?”
Lu Han does not answer. Sehun wraps an arm around Lu Han’s waist. “Hyung are you sad?”
Lu Han frowns even though Sehun won’t be able to see him. He still does not answer. Sehun just continues. “I don’t know why you’re sad but I’m gonnabuingbuing you until you barf rainbows and chocolates and ponies.”
Lu Han wants to scoff and retort about how Sehun is only using his buingbuing to his advantage, but then Sehun’s arms tightened on his waist and he presses his chin on Lu Han’s back that for some odd reason, Lu Han loosens up and sighsas he slightly press his back against Sehun’s strong chest.
Well, Lu Han thinks, this is okay.
It is one of the rare breaks that Lu Han and Sehun are able to sit in the cafeteria together. Lu Han is a music major together with Yixing; they share every classes except basic statistics, in which, for some twisted ways of Lu Han, is the one and only class he shares with Kim Jongin.
Kim Jongin is your typical hot-university-guy-everybody-dreams-of–g
There is this palpable tension hovering in the air as he takes into account the slumped form of Jongin on the chair and Lu Han’s tight lips as he seem to look at everything but Jongin. Sehun picks on Lu Han’s meatballs without Lu Han giving one hell of bitchfit about it. Sehun pokes through the meatballs, waving the meat to Lu Han face as it enters his mouth. Lu Han gives no reaction; instead, whenever Jongin is not looking his way, hedigs holes on the tan male’s face with his glare and looks away when Jongin catches his gaze, acting nonchalant as if he just hasn’t been plotting his face’s demise.
Sehun sighs and continues to look at them with his usual bored expression. The tension continues to engulf the three of them, until Sehun can’t take it no more and he snaps. “Okay why don’t you two talk it out.”
Jongin catches his gaze and he shrugs. “He’s been like a rape victim for a while. Dunno why he’s acting like that.”
Lu Han scowls and gives the both of them an admonishing glare. “Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”
“What the hell’s your problem, Lu?” Jongin snaps, slamming his fist on the table as he turn to look at Luhan. Lu Han gulps. He abruptly stands and slings his bag on his shoulders. “See ya later, Sehuna,” he mumbles.
Jongin shrugs and gives Sehun a ‘see?’ look, before he grabs his bag and walks away without saying a word.
Sehun blinks as he stares at the two retreating backs wondering what in the world just happened.
“Hyung,” Sehun pokes Lu Han’s back. Lu Han does not make any move. “Hyunggggg,” Sehun pokes some more.
“Hyung talk to me dammitttt,” Sehun whines, whacking the elder’s head with his palm as he tries to balance himself in the ladder leading to Lu Han’s bed. The smack seems to get Lu Han’s attention. He whirls around and glares at the younger boy. “Can you not? I’m trying to get some eye-shut here,”
Sehun looks at him with weary eyes, pointing his index finger on Lu Han’s lip. “I see and smell Pockey.” He says in a toneless voice. Lu Han turns his back again. “I don’t wanna share.”
Sehun sighs and climbs up completely on the bed, pushing Lu Han’s body as he fits himself in the limited space on Lu Han’s bed. Lu Han kicks at everywhere he can. “Get the fuck off I’m not in the mood!”
Sehun catches Lu Han’s legs and whacks his thigh. “Cut the crap,” he grumbles. Lu Han sits up and hugs the boxes of Pockey in different flavours on his arms. He sits as far away as Sehun as possible, tucking his chin on his knees as he brings his thighs to his chest, encircling his arms around his legs. Sehun thinks Lu Han looks so small like this –so fragile and so broken. Sehun whistles.
Lu Han listens as Sehun hums and whistles without saying anything. He doesn’t notice that his body starts rocking back and forth, synchronizing to whatever tune Sehun is making. Sehun slowly moves beside Lu Han, folding his legs to his chest so he can fit beside him. Neither says a word –just basks in the silence that surrounds both of them.
Sehun studies Lu Han’s features from the side and feels as if this is the first time he’s looking at the older male’s face. He notices how deep and noticeable the scar on Lu Han’s lip is if you take a good look at it. He takes into account the open pores of Lu Han’s skin and how sharp and well defined Lu Han’s jaw is. Sehun knows his hyung is beautiful; they’ve been together since grade school, even with the four year gap between them. What Sehun doesn’t know is why he feels the need to be protective of Lu Han even though he’s sure he could get his shit together all by himself. Lu Han had his own set of boyfriends, all of them Sehun was able to meet, but it is the very first time that Lu Han had acted this way –all gloomy and snappy even though he’s sure his hyung had been single for the last two months. Sehun doesn’t like Lu Han acting this way. Lu Han is always happy and easy and fun to be with, all smiles and taunts and witty comebacks and he just wanted to get that hyung back. He still isn’t sure why he feels so concerned all of a sudden.
“You’re staring,” Lu Han says without taking a glance at Sehun’s face whose eyes are set on him intently. Sehun scoffs. “So you have eyes on the side of your face.”
Lu Han straightens up and unwraps a new box of Pockey on his lap. He munches on it without even looking at Sehun. “Not sharing,” Lu Han reminds, grip tight on the box of chocolate sticks. Sehun laughs. “Not asking,” he retorts.
They remain like that –with Lu Han munching on his strawberry sticks and Sehun just looking at him. Eventually, the entire Pockey has been consumed and Lu Han pouts as he peeks on the empty carton box, hoping that a stick will magically appear inside it.
There is something with that pout that made Sehun snap. He leans over and plants a quick peck on Lu Han’s cheek. Lu Han squeaks in surprise, a startled gasp escaping his lips. He turns his head to look at Sehun with his mouth agape but Sehun just frowns and leans forward, this time, meeting his lips with Lu Han’s.
It wasn’t grand; it wasn’t perfect; it wasn’t like the movies where boy is kissing back; both of them feeling a jolt of electricity on their body as their lips fit each other perfectly like it was really meant to be. It was just a stupid brushing of lips that has Sehun wondering why in the world he hasn’t done this before. But before Sehun could answer that question on his head, Lu Han already has an answer ready for him. He pushes Sehun away, face flushed and mouth agape. Sehun opens his mouth to say something but finds that he doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to say, so he just resorts on snapping it shut.
“Get off,” Lu Han whispers.
"I –” Sehun starts.
“Get off my bed! Now.” Lu Han shouts, throwing a pillow towards Sehun’s direction. Sehun scrambles in the bed before he comes down, arms too heavy on his body and chest feeling as if it has been rolled over by a ten wheeler truck.
He curls into a ball and wraps his blanket around himself, trying to clear his head of the haze of Lu Han’s lips pressed into his. He asks himself why, what, how and why again because really, why would he ever do such a thing and not regret it even though he’s sure he’s never seen his hyung look so horrified. Minutes after and he hears Lu Han climbing off the bed, grabbing his jacket on the hook near the cabinet, and leaving the room without much as a click of the door shut.
That night, Lu Han doesn’t come back in their room. Sehun knows because he is not able to sleep either.
The days pass with Lu Han waking up early in the morning and slipping in the room late in the evening. Sehun pretends like he doesn’t notice. He pretends he doesn’t notice Lu Han frequenting in the library instead of meeting him in the cafeteria.
Sehun starts doing his personal routine too –he frequents in the dorm instead of hanging out on school premises where he knows Lu Han most likely stays at.
Most nights, Lu Han won’t even return to the dorm; he’ll just return in the morning to take a bath and grab some of the books he’ll need for the day.
One week has passed when Yixing confronts Sehun about it.
“Tell me why my snacks cabinet is raped everyday again.”
“Don’t ask me,” Sehun grumbles, rubbing his temple with the back of his hand. He opens his textbook to the topic of his quiz today and tries reading the terms there. The words are floating above the pages. “He doesn’t even come back to the dorm.” he mumbles.
“That’s the point!” Yixing bursts in exasperation. “Did you pee on his bed again?”
“Something worse,” Sehun answers; Yixing narrows his eyes at him.
“What could be worse than peeing on his bed?” Yixing asks, raising an eyebrow. Sehun shrugs and picks his book up. “I’ll just buy you snacks to repay what he had eaten.” Sehun says before he walking away, leaving Yixing in a blissful silence because snacks.
That afternoon, Sehun returns to the dorm, finding Lu Han hunched over the study table, head between his hands with his music sheet spread out before him. Lu Han looks up and stiffens at the sight of Sehun. Sehun drops his bag and takes his towel on the hanger. He enters the bathroom without saying a word to Lu Han.
Since the incident of Sehun kissing Lu Han, whenever Sehun returns home finding Lu Han around, he will take a long dragging shower until he hears the familiar click of the door before he goes out, body pink and tender from too much scrubbing and heat of the water. Today, he takes a quick shower instead; he’s tired to be the one who is always left behind.
When he emerges from the bathroom, Lu Han is bent over the cabinet, picking up a jeans and a tee shirt, probably what he’ll wear when he goes out. His music sheets are folded neatly on top of the table too, his backpack sitting beside it. Sehun picks up his jeans on the bed and slips it on his legs as quickly as he can. His tee shirt is halfway his body when he mumbles, “Don’t bother, hyung; you study here, I’ll go out.”
He notices that Lu Han has stopped rummaging through his cabinet and is staring at his back for a while now. Lu Han bites his lip and walks over where Sehun is. Sehun eyes him with a weary gaze. Lu Han touches his biceps through worry-laden eyes. “Sehun-ah…” he starts.
Sehun flinches. “What?” He dares a look at Lu Han’s eyes and finds something unreadable in his eyes… something like hurt.
“We haven’t gotten a chance to talk about it…” Lu Han speaks without completing what he means; expecting that Sehun already knows what he’s referring to. Sehun sighs and resorts to slipping into his shirt again. He picks up his wallet and phone on the bed and opens the door, saying, “I’m not the one who’s running away, hyung.”
When Sehun comes home 1:30 in the morning, the light’s still up and Lu Han is sitting on his desk, music sheet spread out, all pens down and gripping his phone tightly. Sehun throws his body on the bed, completely ignoring Lu Han’s searing gaze at him.
“I’ve been calling you.” Lu Han announces. Sehun shrugs and kicks his shoes off.
“Where have you been?” Lu Han continues to demand, ignoring the younger’s question and walking over the edge of his bed. He looms over Sehun’s figure as he stares down at the boy, assessing his figure. Sehun’s arm is draped over his eyes; he does not make any move. Lu Han kicks his leg. “Why won’t you answer me?!”
In a split second, Sehun gets up and grabs Lu Han by the arm.Thenhe throws him on the bed and pins him there with his body. “What do you want?” he growls.
There’s a brief flash of fear on Lu Han’s eyes but when Sehun blinks, he meets Lu Han’s bright and curious eyes, furrowed brows, and his thin lips set into a determined line. He looks at Sehun in the eyes.
“What do you want?” Sehun repeats again, voice now soft and eyes looking so pained. He doesn’t know what is happening, just that when he blinks again, he starts sobbing, tears unceasingly flowing from his eyes like a loose thread faucet. The sob racks through Sehun’s body as the sound of his anguish bounces off the four corners of the room. He buries his head on the crook of Lu Han’s neck and Lu Han just holds him like that, running his fingers through Sehun’s hair while whispering, “Sehun-ah.”
That night, Sehun sleeps on Lu Han’s chest and Lu Han made no effort to move the boy or run away from him.
When Sehun wakes up the next day, Lu Han is sitting by the bed, two mugs of coffee at hand. He smiles at Sehun. “Good morning.”
Sehun feels like shit so he just nods without acknowledging Lu Han’s outstretched hand and goes straight to the bathroom. He takes a quick shower and exits the room without as much as a nod to Lu Han’s deflated form.
The tables are turned now. Lu Han frequents at the dorm and Sehun makes it a routine to wake up early in the morning and go back to the dorm when Lu Han is sure to have retreated the bed already.
Sehun ignores Lu Han’s questioning gaze whenever he comes home to Lu Han still up and seeming to wait for him beside the study table. Sehun just murmurs, ‘with Tao’ and crashes on the bed with his jeans and sneakers still on.
Sehun rarely sees Lu Han with Jongin too. He usually sees Lu Han sitting alone on the cafeteria, textbooks at hand and music sheets scattered everywhere.
Sehun finds it tiring –what Lu Han had been doing. So on the third week since the incident, Sehun throws his clothes on a box, packs of bag sitting on his empty bed. He ignores Lu Han’s gaze seeming to dig holes at the back of his head. When he is able to stuff every bit of his belonging into a trolley, Lu Han slams his fist on top of the bag and demands, “Where are you going?”
Sehun politely removes Lu Han’s hand on top of his bag and continues to zip it shut. “There’s a vacant bed on Taozi’s,” he says, as if that could explain everything. Lu Han throws the trolley from the bed, ignoring how all of Sehun’s belongings have scattered on the floor; he clutches on Sehun’s biceps tightly. “No, why are you leaving?”
Sehun heaves a sigh, shakes the hand away, and crouches over his bag to pick up his scattered clothes on the floor. He hears Lu Han sniffle. “Sehun –”
“This isn’t working anymore, hyung,” Sehun cuts him off without looking him in the eyes. “Yesterday you’re pushing me away then today you’re acting as if nothing happened, then tomorrow what? Are you going to push me away again?”
There’s a small beat of silence before Lu Han firmly answers, “No.”
Sehun looks up and sees Lu Han’s fist clutched on his side. “Don’t go, Sehun,” Lu Han whispers, eyes red with unshed tears. Sehun stands and walks over to where Lu Han is.
“Why?” he asks.
“Don’t go…” Lu Han whispers again, a small drop of tear rolling down his cheek. Sehun wipes it away with his thumb and holds Lu Han by the shoulder. Lu Han looks up and bites on his lower lip, seeming to debate on something. Sehun opens his mouth to speak but then, Lu Han is tiptoeing and is pressing his lips against Sehun. Sehun is too dumbfounded to react, so he just resorts on doing what he had wanted to do for a long time now: He kisses Lu Han back. Sehun finds Lu Han tastes just like what he thought he would taste like: a tinge of sweet and chocolaty skittles on his lips, though he’s sure the chocolate doesn’t have anything to do with how soft and sugary Lu Han’s lips are.What he doesn’t taste however, is the uncertainty he expected to be playing on Lu Han’s lips; he just tastes of determination and something even more … like longing and yearning and justLu Han.
Lu Han’s hands travel up to Sehun’s neck and he grips the back of his head just like that –pushing the younger boy towards him deeper.
They part away to catch their breaths and Sehun opens his mouth again to say something but Lu Han beats him too it, “Just…stay,” he breaths. “We’ll figure everything out as we go along.”
Sehun nods and wraps his arms around Lu Han’s waist. “Okay,” he answers.
He buries his head on the crook of Lu Han’s neck and nods again. “Okay.”
[A/N]: SHISUS WHAT DID I JUST WROTE? This was supposed to be light and SHORT and fluffy without the in-denial Lu Han shit but OH WELL I sort of found the original plot boring so… here’s a more boring one. Do I have to say this is unbetaed/unedited again? NO? OKAY. This will probably be my last HunHan. LMAO.
- Current Location:wanderland
- Current Mood:heartbroken
- Current Music:I'm in love with a stripper
Title: yesterday, i should’ve held you tighter
Pairing: Lu Han/Jongin
Genre: Angst, Friendship
Summary: Lu Han is a coward who likes to pretend everything is going to be alright.
“Hyung, I love you.”
“Mhhm. And I love you too.”
Jongin smiles and wills his heart to stop forming painful cracks. Because Lu Han doesn’t understand. Luhan will never understand.
“Do you really, hyung?”
Jongin knows he shouldn’t be asking what he already knows. He knows too that he shouldn’t be expecting something to happen when everything is already written all over Lu Han’s face. But sometimes, sometimes he likes to think that the lingering gaze, the brushing of hands, the hushed whispers on his ears and those little slips of affection from Lu Han are signs –signs that there is something, there is still that one thing Lu Han doesn’t want to let go.
Sometimes, he wishes he just doesn’t know these things.
“You are my best friend. Why would you ever doubt that?"
Most of the times, Jongin wishes he just knows all of it, memorized everything, and etched everything in every inch of his fibre so he won’t have to chase that little glimmer of hope shining whenever Lu Han smiles.
“I don’t like you hanging with Baek a lot,” Luhan says one afternoon, sipping on a carton of freshmilk and flipping over pages of magazine. Tyra Banks never fails to leave him speechless.
“I just don’t like you seeing with him.”
“Do you want me to stop hanging out with him?”
Lu Han looks up from the magazine and looks Jongin’s dark eyes, taking in the attentive expression that looks at him as if he’s the greatest thing in this world.
Jongin nods without a moment hesitation, “Okay.”
Lu Han pretends he doesn’t know.
Lu Han sighs and puts his pen down, walking over where Jongin is. “Yes Jongin?”
“Hyung I love you.”
“I already know that Jongin, and I already told you I feel the same,” Lu Han turns to walk away. Jongin grabs his wrist and yanks him down, wrapping strong arms around his body.
“No, hyung. You don’t understand. It’s not –”
“I do, Jongin. I do. Trust me.” Lu Han wiggles out of Jongin’s grasp once more, this time, Jongin doesn’t try to stop him.
Jongin believes Lu Han. He always does and he always will.
Lu Han hugs Jongin as if he doesn’t notice how the younger boy clings a little whenever he pulls away. Lu Han says I love you pretending not to hear how Jongin enunciate every syllable whenever he says those three words back.
Lu Han holds Jongin’s hand under desks in every class they share. Lu Han goes to Jongin’s dance practices, bringing extra clothes and a face full of smiles, with promises of his favourite chocopies afterwards.
Lu Han kisses Jongin’s cheek as if the soft spot his lips made contact with doesn’t burn. He looks at Jongin pretending that it doesn’t water whenever he sees Jongin’s eyes, longing and in pain.
Time passes, seasons change.
He forgets every dream of tan skin and shy smiles and blunt words. He crushes the fire burning in his chest whenever a hand touches the small of Jongin’s back that was supposed to be only his to touch. He swallows the words of ‘where have you been’ or ‘why aren’t you replying’ and instead settles with a small, ‘hi have you eaten yet’.
He pretends he doesn’t notice Jongin’s hand sliding away from his grasp. Instead, he holds onto it and looks away so he wouldn’t have to see Jongin’s eye looking away in a far distance. He pretends he doesn’t see how Jongin flinches whenever he touches his chest.
Lu Han ignores the whispers of Baekhyun and Jongin and no Lu Han floating around the campus.
Lu Han stops coming to dance practices. Lu Han doesn’t need to see how the look on Jongin’s face whenever Baekhyun will put a quick peck on his cheek, smiling cheekily.
He doesn’t ask why Jongin needs to make reasons just to avoid hanging out with him.
Lu Han ignores it all –the whispers, the buzzes, the pitiful looks.
He doesn’t tell Jongin how he wishes him back.
Lu Han silences the pieces of his heart falling in the ground and pretends he doesn’t hear it breaking.
“So Baekhyun and you? You and Baekhyun? When are you planning to tell me?”
Jongin looks down, bites his lip and turns his back before saying, “I’m sorry, hyung.”
Lu Han pretends he hears a different three-word instead.
I love you.
As long as he can keep Jongin in his heart, he’ll pretend some more.
[A/N]: So this is some sort of a 5-minute drabble dump that happened to me in real life. Not all the scenes happened there actually, but the concept’s the same. IDEK. LuKai just reeks of angst these days. & I’m feeling nostalgic. <s> and i’m sort of the luhan okay </s>
- Current Location:EXOland
- Current Mood: nostalgic
- Current Music:you make it impossible to get to your heart
Genre: hs!au, romance, friendship
Length: one shot
Warnings: something horrible as my bad writing
Summary: Sehun grew up to be the biggest brat of all times –all because of Jongin.
Disclaimer: All scenes are purely fictional and any similarities to reality are coincidental.
Any sort of personal opinion in this work serves to aid the storyline. Characters may not be accurately portrayed in this work of fiction.
It is safe to assume that Jongin is born with the fate of a ‘baby-sitter’ etched on those long arms and legs, in that tan skin and taut muscles. Because if not, then he has to face the reality that he might just be spoiling Sehun a little, a little too much.
“I said I don’t want to go to school.” Sehun the brat, repeats for the nth time. Jongin arrived at his house an hour earlier (as usual) before the designated time of their classes, trying to pull the younger out of the comfort of his blanket. He sits by the end of Sehun’s bed, and once in a while has to block his arms so that Sehun’s kicking feet won’t hit his face. He decided that Sehun must just look like a cockroach’s body turned upward, all feet and arms flailing and kicking.
“It’s not about if you wanted to or not,” Jongin, with the mastered patience of putting up with the younger boy, says calmly, one hand still gripping the younger’s foot in an attempt to preserve the features of his face. “You have to go to school whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t do what I don’t want.” Sehun bites back with the mastered attitude of always opposing Jongin at any occasion, any time of the day, and any time of the month. He gives the older another purposeful kick on the abdomen that is sure to send him in hospital without a doubt had not Jongin catches Sehun’s other foot just in time before it lands on his chest.
Well, Jongin concludes sourly, if he was born to babysit Sehun, then Sehun is born to go against everything he says and everything he does.
“Stop being a brat and get your ass out of the bed, Sehun.” he repeats again, trying to sound chiding (keyword trying)
Said boy narrows his eyes at him, dragging the covers up his head to hide his face. “Why don’t you get your ass out of my bed?” Sehun mutters, voice a little bit muffled under the covers. Jongin, however, doesn't miss it.
With one forceful tug, Jongin yanks the cover away, leaving the younger boy in the scrutinizing gaze of the older boy with his pajamas on, face flushed pink in the cold breeze of the morning and some sort of a breeze of embarrassment.
“What is wrong with you?!” Sehun shrieks trying to get his blanket back which is now on the custody of the cold floor, being stepped over by Jongin who now moved from the end of his bed to his side, hands on his hips and mouth pressed into a thin line.
“I’ve been spoiling you on a daily basis, hourly, by the way,” Jongin mutters, eyeing the flushed boy on the bed, trying to cover his chest with his arms like some sort of a teenager girl. “I’m not letting you get away this time.”
Because Jongin is trying to get Sehun out of bed since 6 o’clock sharp in the morning and now the clock screams 7:30’oclock which basically means they just missed their first class which is math, as Jongin tries to mollycoddle Sehun with I’ll buy you a bubble tea, I’ll let you play my Nintendo or I’ll let you copy my assignment for Economics but nothing really worked on the younger boy and Jongin is just so frustrated and at lost with what to do because Sehun isn’t usually this obnoxious and he’s just losing his hard-trained patience with Sehun’s lips curved upward as if taunting , paired with a mischievous glint on his eyes.
“What will you do?” Sehun asks, an eyebrow raised in question.
Jongin becomes silent, thinking.
“Well?” Sehun says impatiently, his arms now crossed over his chest in that oh well, you can’t really do anything look on his face.
Jongin thinks some more. Because really, if Sehun doesn’t want to, what can Jongin do? It’s not as if he resorted into violence (not that he ever thinks that’s even possible before) or life threats that can make Jongin get Sehun to do what he wants. It’s all about Jongin agreeing to whatever Sehun wants in addition to just stupidly doing Sehun’s favors instead.
Jongin thinks Sehun grew up to be the biggest spoiled brat on earth because of him.
When they were seven and Jongin won the best dancer award on their Christmas party (instead of Sehun), Sehun had hit Jongin countless of times until his knuckles are white and Jongin’s body is numb. Little Sehun had then made Jongin promise to never join dance contests where he is participating too, ever again, and Jongin never did ever since.
When they were twelve and Sehun did not know what to answer on their mid-terms exams because he spent the whole weekend playing computer games while Jongin suffered eight hours of burying his head on textbooks all the while listening to Sehun’s character beat his’ repeatedly, he had looked at Jongin with tears on his eyes because god oh god he doesn’t know what to write on his test paper aside from his name and he’s sure to fuck-up big time which means his computer, play station, his bike and all of his things necessary for living will be taken away. One pleading look Sehun made and Jongin looked away, snatched his test paper (even though he haven't even gotten a glance of his own) and scribbled answers on it while the teacher is too busy deciding whether she'll get a plain red polish or settle with the yellow glittery one. Sehun got a B+ afterwards while Jongin got a flat D because he wasn’t able to finish his own goddamn test paper.
Then when they were sixteen and their first prom ever is finally, finally, happening, Sehun couldn’t get any happier. In the middle of that excitement and giddiness because finally he can get to show off how good his dancing skills are, he bumped into their class president holding a pineapple punch and ended up getting the drink splashed all over his newly bought suit. Sehun had stormed off and said he’s just going back home and Jongin, having the golden heart of a loving best friend, exchanged his luxurious coat with Sehun's fruit drink punched one because he knows how Sehun had looked forward to this very day and Sehun looked really beautiful and glowing and magnificent (well he always does, not that Jongin will ever admit) and he won’t let a stupid pineapple drink ruin that night for the younger. So he spent the whole night feeling chilly and kind of gross sweet because of pineapple juice clinging onto his skin.
And now, he’s making another life decision. One that will determine the level of spoiled-bratness he made Sehun live.
He decides to answer in pure instinct, “I’m going to kiss you.”
Jongin asks why why does he have to say and make decisions that will make his hair fall off for the next forty five years, and curses because what did he just say why is he ever thinking of kissing Sehun why is his instinct like that though he can never really blame himself because Sehun is perfect and hot and everything and it’s not as if he doesn’t try to ignore all those feelings of just wanting to shove the boy up to the nearest wall and nip on that flawless neck and lick and hear him moan and okay, Jongin tries not to fangirl too much because instead of seeing Sehun slacked-jaw, what he see is an amused smile (or is it a smirk? He can never really differentiate) playing on those perfectly sculpted lips.
Oh boy, his voice is most definitely taunting and Jongin’s mind is going on overdrive because why isn’t Sehun horrified or shoving him away after he, a guy, tells him, being also a guy, that he will kiss him. (and they are best friends too)
Jongin throws away the act of sanity and closes the space between them, tentatively pressing his chapped lips against the younger, making it look like he’s straddling the boy on the bed saved by the way his legs are spread apart to entrap the younger boy on his body.
He doesn't really know what to do, couldn't do what he needed to do because really, he hasn't kissed anyone before and youtube lessons are not enough when you're actually dealing with the real thing. Jongin smells of irresoluteness while Sehun screams confidence and occasional challenge as he tries to coax the elder's mouth open. Sehun is sweet and sweet and just sweet and it's not as if Jongin had ever dreamt or thought of what Sehun would taste like. Right? Not.
A long while of kissing and Jongin stumbles on bed, breathless because if he doesn’t, he is sure his school pants will rip into two and he couldn’t possibly hold Sehun liable for the damages about to happen to his pants (or body, or even his mind. Not that he ever does)
Silence filled the entire room and Jongin thinks he’s gone deaf if not for the ragged breathing exchanges with another one, mirroring his own.
“I’ve been waiting forever for you to do that.” Sehun breaks the silence. Jongin is bracing himself for the worst, for Sehun to lash out on him, to kick him out because oh god he just kissed him though can’t help but cling on that little seed of hope that sprouted when Sehun kissed him back passionately
It took Jongin’s rusty brain to fully comprehend what Sehun just said because by then his mouth is hanging open while he mouths, “What?” and it’s probably the most stupid question because Sehun is now rolling his eyes and bending down to get the abandoned blanket on the floor.
“You’re waiting for me to do that –what?” Jongin repeats again, in an attempt to lessen his stupidity though the result only proved more of it.
“I love it when you spoil me,” Sehun starts saying, turning his back against the older. “I love it when your full attention is turned towards me, I love that I’m your priority, I love that you can’t say no to me –“
“Wait Sehun, what are you saying?”
“ –and maybe I love you a little bit.”
Jongin almost droolw over Sehun’s bed because damn how long has it been since he wished to hear those words from him? How long did he dreamt and still dreaming that Sehun will have something (other than friendship) for him. But Sehun’s back is turned against him and he can’t help but wonder that maybe Sehun is just trolling with him (again) and maybe he is stifling a laugh behind those blankets.
“We still have to go to school –“ Sehun mumbles and starts to get up.
Jongin whirls him around by the hem of his pajama shirt and was met by a pale face tinted red, a wide eye and a mouth hanging open. Jongin closes that mouth using his own and no matter how awkward the position is with Sehun’s leg digging on his thigh, he doesn’t let go. When he does, Sehun whispers, “I don’t like going to school but I like it when your lips are pressed into mine.”
And so Jongin presses his lips against his' again, forgets about school and spoils Sehun some more. Or maybe he’s going to spoil Sehun forever.
A/N: So this is sort of a re-post with a
slight editing? IDEK.