twinkling eyes

can we start over, @acaxgyu​?

the space between them shouldn’t feel like they’re miles away.

it’s unfamiliar. the confines of his hoodie feel a lot colder than what he’s used to - mingyu’s hands intertwined with his, the tips of their fingers touching before saying good night. while he can tell mingyu’s been trying to act like everything is fine, their usual intimacy - platonic or otherwise - proves otherwise. jeonghan tries not to question it. he gets it.

it’s been a year.

“hey,” he starts, nudging the other’s arm with his elbow. jeonghan chews on his bottom lip, hesitant - something he has been for almost an entire semester. “i was actually thinking…” the new academic year should bring forth an array of new possibilities. that in itself sounds too optimistic for someone who can barely drag his ass out of bed, but it’s worth a shot. a desperate need for validation, a sense of purpose. sometimes mingyu just isn’t enough even if jeonghan wants him to be, especially after what happened.

“maybe i should join track again.”

to take my mind off of things.

it’s been a year.

and it was a struggle to keep things okay. mainly because...well, he could try all he could but the more he did the more... mingyu dismissed the thought when jeonghan nudged him. weird how a casual gesture made him feel so many things. he could sense the uncertainty -- or was it? -- in the way the other didn’t continue with what he was saying. it must be something serious. and it made mingyu tense up despite the blank mask that was his face.

a thousand of possibilities ran through his mind and he hated himself for being paranoid and overthinking. so he tried really hard to stop and listen to jeonghan. the suspense should mean that it was important and the fact that he was mustering the courage to tell him should mean that he should value it. like a true best friend should. at the end of the day, platonic or not, that is where they fell back to. best friends. even before birth. and sometimes he felt choked up with emotion when he thought about that, the weight time and memories had, on their relationship.

“maybe i should join track again.”

acahyeri:

[ a royal decree for : @acaxgyu​ ] 

↺ the local department store is vast in comparison to most, but hyeri knows all of its posh seven floors like it is the back of her hand. it is a saturday and saturdays meant shopping, especially since the saturday of last week was wasted on another futile marriage meeting. she hates it, of course, and she could just opt to ditch every single one, but she still had an image to maintain with the bachelors her father tried to matchmake her with, and the most minimally damaging thing she could do was be so obnoxiously late in the hopes of the prospect leaving in annoyance. 

but whatever. it makes her pissed and being pissed gives her an excuse to max out (as if!) her father’s mastercard on designer items she’ll only wear once before they get thrown into the charity bin. except it seems as if she’s gone overboard this time, as her arms are quickly running out of space to sling shopping bags unto and she still doesn’t feel as relaxed as she should. huffing, the beautiful heiress sits herself on the nearby lounge, her supergenius brain quickly thinking up of a solution to her dilemma–a dilemma of utmost magnitude in her books. 

“if only i brought someone to–ha!” her exclamation echoes with the lightbulb that dings in her cranium, and she is quick to fetch her smartphone from the tiny pink clutch slung across her torso. hurriedly, she dials the number of a friend she’s sure has no schedule (she did, after all, make sure she has a copy of everyone’s timetable, for organization’s sake), clearing her throat once and attempting her most dejected tone. two rings and the receiver finally clicks, and the ever-dramatic future overlord threw in a couple of fake sniffles as an opener, for good measure. 

“pupper...” her voice is as pitiful as could be, and she makes sure to add in a small whimper for effect. “can you go to the mall in ten minutes? it’s a huge emergency. i need your help!”

saturdays were his ‘me’ time. it was a time when he usually just sat down in his room, draw, read comics or visited his mother to be treated like he was younger than he really is. but this saturday, his mother had refused his company, saying that she was planning on going on a much needed hang out with her friends. dejected by her rejection, he decided to dedicate his day to lazing around until he felt that he needed to clean the house. he woke up to early anyways for the trip home but oh well... maybe next weekend. but of course, he made sure to send his mother a couple of emojis that would perfectly portray his disappointment before letting it slide. 

playing seemed like the easier thing to do. so he shuffled between three of the games he was playing currently, leveling up here and there and raising his rank in another. soon, he moved to finishing his sketch for one of his classes and it was only then did he feel hungry enough to go downstairs to grab a bite to eat. in the midst of peacefully eating ramyun, however, his phone rang. fishing his phone from his pocket, he answered the call quickly. “hey! what’s--”

“pupper...”

oh god is she crying?

mingyu stood up immediately, adrenaline surging through his body. “emergency. okay. i-- i will be there!” he ended the call immediately and rushed to his room. he threw on a jacket and shrugged off his pyjamas in favor of his black skinnies and slipped on his white sneakers he always wore. since his hair wasn’t really styled, he grabbed one of his caps before rushing outside. he almost forgot his keys and his wallet because he was rushing and ran as fast as he could (which was fairly fast) towards his room. once his wallet and keys were in his pockets, he ran to the bus stop.

the bus arrived after a few minutes of waiting. he was going to be late for five minutes, he could tell. hopefully hyeri was okay. maybe he should have asked what was happening so he knew and he could calm down his paranoia. 

once the bus stopped and opened its doors at his stop, he rushed outside and ran inside the mall, immediately calling for hyeri. once answered, he was panting heavily as he asked, “noona, where are you? what floor? what do you see? you’re not bleeding are you?” while asking, he was running around the ground floor, trying to spot her very familiar and distinct face. 

taemin had tried (tried being the important word here) to keep his one night stands and flings on the down-low as much as he could. after all he couldn’t have people on campus thinking he was some sort of a hoe, even if he was one, that wasn’t the point. the point was, he had to try and keep his image clean as much as possible, couldn’t have mean people spreading rumours about him and lowering his chances of getting his parents off his back, that was the last thing he needed.

though it didn’t stop people from spreading the odd thing here or there- like how he was good in bed. most likely he had jimin to thank for that.

however when he did spend his nights with sweet kisses and tangled limbs he’d made a habit of always skipping out early in the morning. because a. it was easier for him, and b. he usually had classes early in the morning. so naturally when he’d done it to a girl the other day he hadnt expected she’d make a big deal of it. let alone send someone after his ass (not that he was to know that.) he watched as the kid headed towards him, eyes locking onto him as a smirk graces his lips. he had to be either a jealous boyfriend who couldn’t satisfy their girl like taemin had, or they wanted something else from him entirely.

mingyu stopped in his tracks, immediately offended at the smirk he was given. looking at him from head to toe, he supposed he knew why so many fell under his spell. even mingyu felt his cheeks flush at the way he was being looked at. how dare he look at him like that? despite the little bundle of nerves that were making his stomach feel weird, he still chose to approach him and stopped directly in front of him (if not leaving a few centimeters between them). he thanked puberty for the extra height advantage and also all the work out. while not fond of violence, he could resort to it if needed be.

“do you remember someone called kim jiae?” he asked, his voice already steady which is a good sign but his words too rushed. confrontations made him nervous, really, so he avoided them as much as he could. but if it’s for friends, he could do anything. “i was told that uh...she was one of your...” just fucking say it, kim mingyu. “one night stand. things. person, i mean.” god, you are not an imbecile. “and i came here to ask you why you would toy with people’s feelings like that.” because he honestly didn’t understand the point of dealing with the hurt feelings after. 

Chanyeol cringes at his poor aimed smack. He had meaning to hit Mingyu on his back not head. But what’s done is done, he thinks. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hit you right in the head! I was aiming for your back.” He says, genuinely apologizing. He’s never been the type to start a fight or pick on someone, that’s just not his style. Unless they’re an asshole but  the guy looks like a lost pup and cooks for the whole house. Definitely not with him.

“No meat?” he blurts out a question. But Chanyeol quickly flashes him a grin and picks up his spoon. A beggar can’t be the chooser. What if after this Mingyu tell him to make his own meal? He’s not ready to eat badly cooked eggs with black as coal crisps around the edges. Nope. “Thank you for the meal, mom!” 

Chanyeol almost choked on his own tongue right after he starts digging in. He coughs as he stumbles to the fridge for a bottle of water, gulping the content so loudly. He wheezes as he looks at Mingyu a little teary-eyed, rasping, “Man, if you want to kill me, I prefer stabbing. A quick—” another gulps of water in between his words. “Stab in the heart, y’know? Effective. Very. Not,” yet another wheeze. “Chili Poison.”

mingyu kind of stills and cast a glance at the abandoned plate of what could have been samgyupsal. “no meat for today,” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed. he wasn’t usually this distracted. he loved cooking for people and even more so watching them eat his creation. so he tried his best whenever he did. “and apology accepted,” he responded with a half smile. it eventually grew into a large grin when chanyeol referred to him as mom. it was amusing how he had turned into the sharehouse’s mom.

while watching chanyeol eat, he chewed on the inside of his cheek. should he... maybe he shouldn’t. he really wasn’t sure if chanyeol would be comfortable talking about something this serious. but really...at least he wasn’t jeonghan. it sucked that he couldn’t confide in his best friend at this certain...change in his life. mustering the courage, he looked up to chanyeol and parted his lips, only to witness his housemate nearly dying on his food.

“wha--” mingyu started, confused. “oh my god.” mingyu ran immediately to the fridge and grabbed the milk as well as a glass, quickly pouring the other a glassful of it. “drink this.” he instructed. then curious, he took away the soup from him and used the spoon to taste. fire immediately spread throughout his whole body. some of it made his nose flare even and tears prick at the corner of his eyes. someone could have died eating this. “i’m so sorry!” he immediately shouted, taking the food away from him and running around the table. “i-- i was distracted and just...this dude-- it’s his fault i’m a mess. oh my god i am so sorry!”

the whole room was spinning.

it wasn’t the alcohol.

each kiss delivered a sense of urgency that jeonghan couldn’t recognize. he took a sharp intake of breath - mouth, cheek, forehead, nose - before heaving out a sigh. fingers threaded through the other’s dark locks, pushing away stray hair that covered his best friend’s eyes. their lips easily reconnected in a drunken haze. stop. you’ll hurt him, he told himself, focused on keeping his breathing steady, to drown out the thumping in his ears. heartbeat. bass. heartbeat. bass. 

the voice at the back of jeonghan’s head grew louder: this was nothing.

the sound that escaped from mingyu, however, was an unfamiliar one. before jeonghan could react - he wasn’t about to say anything, really; save for maybe give mingyu a curious glance in place of completely pulling away - mingyu had already scrambled backwards. jeonghan instinctively reached out, mouth open in an attempt to warn him about the door, only to wince when he was too late.

“are you okay?” it came out scratchy, hoarse. jeonghan cleared his throat, pushing himself off the floor to help his friend up. “alright, come on.” with a click of his tongue, he slung mingyu’s arm around his shoulder, arm around the other’s waist to hoist him up. he dragged his intoxicated friend into the nearby bathroom with some struggle, height and weight differences and all. once inside, he kicked the door shut behind him, the sound of music and chattering muted behind the thick walls. there was evident amusement in his tone when he said, “fucking christ, gyu.”

when did you become so unpredictable?

he wished that closing his eyes will erase everything. but the only thing it did, as he staggered to stand up, was replay the scene over and over again. it seemed that his mind had saved that kiss, compiled it among the many kisses they shared, and glorified it in his mind. apart from his drunken state, it was something mingyu didn’t know he truly wanted at that time. that closeness, gentleness and overwhelming desperation. “i’m okay,” he whispered shakily, clinging onto jeonghan who was much shorter. he was also considerably heavier but he wasn’t sober enough to be considerate of the other. in these rare times that he depended on jeonghan, he could feel his chest constrict. it was sad that he didn’t have the words -- or did he? and he was merely rendered by fear -- to describe what these emotions were.

he immediately collapsed on his knees and grasped the toilet bowl (gross) and emptied today’s meals and liquid inside of it. it smelled horrific and it’s one of the reasons why he despised being drunk. it took a while, stopping and then puking again, before he felt too tired and too disgusted with himself to stand up. mingyu lay down on the cold bathroom floor -- hopefully clean -- and covered his eyes with the back of his hand. his heart still thrummed in his chest and he couldn’t hear anything but that.

“jeonghan ah, who was that guy?” he asked. he couldn’t hear his own voice. by this point, he was tired and reality was slowly sinking in. that wasn’t the first time he’d seen jeonghan with someone. he was with hyeri, right? and oh god hyeri...what would she think about everything? mingyu let out a pained noise. too much time had passed when they thought this was okay. surely, at this point, mingyu would have been certain of his sexual attraction towards men. but no one even came close to jeonghan. 

you’re drunk, mingyu. drunk makes you brave. so do it. do it before the effect wears off.

he realized now, after that kiss, that he would want more. that he would break apart two people who meant every thing to him. he realized slowly and surely that this had to end. if no one ended it, mingyu would just selfishly claim jeonghan for himself. “it doesn’t even matter,” he said, dismissing his question. he sat up, looking at the pristine checkered floor. “you were probably experimenting with him, too, aren’t you?” his voice shook, hating how he wanted to throw up at his own words. “i don’t think i can--” i don’t think i can hold back. “i can do it...” i can do it for as long as you want. “anymore.” fingers curled into a tight ball, shaking as he fought the urge to take back the words he just said. 

“let’s end it.”

let’s end it because i’m scared.

but let me have a last time check.

mingyu looked at jeonghan, and promised to himself that for the last time, he will allow himself to look at him the way he did when the other wasn’t looking. the look of simple adoration and pure love that blossomed from friendship. mingyu was certain that these feelings wouldn’t leave him the next day while hungover. it wasn’t that easy, he knew, and that was why he had to do it now with the effects of alcohol still in his system making him braver but not any less in love.

heaving a sigh, jeonghan fell back onto the floor, hopelessly eyeing his intoxicated best friend. a light chuckle signified a mix of curiosity and wonder. when was the last time mingyu had been this drunk? but in that dimly lit room, illuminated only through the cracks around the door and the light in mingyu’s glassy gaze, both of them comfortable on the carpet, jeonghan obliged. a corner of his lips quirked upwards into a tiny smile, and he pulled mingyu closer, arms finding their way around the other’s waist, lacing his fingers together behind the other’s back to keep his friend in place.

jeonghan relished the other’s warmth and hold, unique only to mingyu, both of which were something jeonghan had the privilege of experiencing every day for god knows how long. nothing else could compare. this was natural to them, he thought - until the bold statement slipped from between familiar lips, and left jeonghan stunned. it was rare for mingyu to initiate, even rarer for him to say it out loud.

don’t. you’re drunk, he wanted protest. a first. too drunk. jeonghan swallowed thickly, finding himself unable to pull back, before he felt the other’s lips press against his. he blamed the alcohol (a depressant, one that distorted perception) when a hand moved to cup mingyu’s cheek. the other hand rested against the other’s nape, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. jeonghan’s eyes were shut tight, the hand on the other’s nape gradually moving upwards to curl fingers through the other’s dark locks.

five? six? seven years.

there was thumping in his ears and in his chest, heartbeat mixed with the loud bass that resonated throughout the entire house. but there was a distinct stillness that surrounded them, and a clenching in the pit of jeonghan’s stomach - guilt? fingers trembled lightly against the other’s cheek, and jeonghan masked this as a growing desperation through fervent kisses. i don’t know what this is.

but.

i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m sorry.

when jeonghan’s hand found itself on his cheek, he sighed against the other’s lips. he felt his whole body relaxing. he felt dizzy because of the alcohol but also because of the deepened kiss. although he didn’t want to ask for more than what he was already blessed with, here jeonghan was, giving it to him every single time. soon, he found himself being pulled into the same mesh of sensations that he could closely describe as the simplest kind of high. he lets himself reach out to place a hand on the back of jeonghan’s nape, meeting him halfway as he pushed the other closer still to him.

through his fingertips, he could feel the thrumming of jeonghan’s heartbeat and the wisps of his hair. he pulled away to breathe, only to let his fingers trace the back of his neck, the other one making way to caress his cheek, planting soft kisses against the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his forehead and his nose and with each and every kiss he got closer to spilling the hidden truth. pescially once he got closer to his lips and soon, he breathed in jeonghan’s scent once again and kissed him with every fiber of his being. he was pushing himself against the older, asking to be accepted and begging him to see the truth behind the false pretenses. 

i don’t know what this is.

but.

i want to figure it out with you.

the desire grew as the kiss continued and a short moan slipped past his lips. this was enough to startle him and pull his body back to reality. pulling back suddenly, mingyu pushed himself off of jeonghan, effectively knocking his head against the door. he cursed out loud, both hands flying to massage the back of his head. no matter what he did, he still couldn’t do it right. he laughed as soon as the sharp pain subsided and shook his head, trying to stand up by clinging onto the wall. “let’s go home, hannie,” he said. “but i need to throw up first.”

when he steps inside, the first thing wonwoo notices is how high the ceilings are. claustrophobia doesn’t get to be a factor today, much to his relief. but it doesn’t cancel out his fear for this sort of environment otherwise, having to address the event coordinators by sister or brother with obvious hesitation in his voice. would they notice him falter? what would they make of him for having that kind of attitude? would first impressions actually matter, though? he’s not sure he’d come again, despite only being here for a mere fifteen minutes.

wonwoo cooperates with mingyu, the remaining box joining the other immediately on the table. his hands run through his hair after, arms shaking out to either side of his torso to relieve any muscle pain. “you do this every sunday, correct?” he asks his housemate within a yawn, arms crossing over his chest. his eyes follow the woman that had led him inside, taking note of the way her hair falls over her shoulders as she walks back and forth, inside and out. “i should have figured, you know. considering no other place willingly offers to host bake sales or whatever for orphanages aside from ‘holy’ sects.” he wants to call bullshit on them, all religious organizations. generally for the same reason. wonders if mingyu’s caught on with his hostility just yet.

the truth is out there!

where?

before he can say anything else, a different woman comes up to them, stature not as graceful as the other. it’s rather dominant, kindness supposedly being a facade when she places the utensils right next to the boxes. she saves the knives for last, holding them a little longer than she’d held the rest as she raises a brow at the sight of the two boys standing side by side.

“mingyu-ah,” she starts, a smile appearing out of courtesy as she swivels around completely to face them. “this is your friend? i hope.”

i hope. the distance between them isn’t all suggestive for her to assume otherwise.

wonwoo frowns at this, tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth as he returns the greeting with a small bow of his head. he doesn’t bother smiling for any reason, stepping away from mingyu slightly so as not to imply anything else.

someone would have left by now. not everyone had the...capabilities to help others. he’d tried to ask others, but he could see the reluctance and even the distaste. mingyu could tell people saw it as a way to lift his ego or make himself feel important. frankly, it was neither of those. he just wanted to help. he did feel better seeing the childrens’ smile and being thanked by them and the orphanage. but at the end of the day, he just  through this, mingyu was slowly getting to know his new housemate. and he decided he wasn’t that bad. “yes, every sunday. without fail.” he was amused at his efforts and promised himself that they’d leave after his introduction. 

“well...” mingyu began, side-eyeing wonwoo. “i guess.” the ‘i guess’ came out less pleasant than he liked and he immediately regretted though he did not apologize. “sister, this is wonwoo. wonwoo, sister hana.” smiling politely she acknowledged the introduction when the head sister slipped inside. “the children are ready to eat,” she announced. mingyu grinned, looking at wonwoo. “let’s go and let them eat. we can prepare for your number while they eat.” the sisters thanked them for their efforts and he gestured for wonwoo to follow him inside the faculty lounge. it would be empty by now. 

Today was a slow day for him. He spent his last few minutes in his last class of the day reading online article that he only partially believes about the reason why some days feel slow and why others don’t. He ended up feeling like a total nerd when he’s done reading. Old news, but still shocking. He comes home with no lecture in mind but some cognitive science or whatever the fuck it was. He doesn’t even understand half of it. But still, hmm…

Fascinating.

Shaking off the unneeded information from his head, he did his usual routine once he’s back home. Once done, Chanyeol walks into the kitchen with a towel still draped over his wet hair, having just finished his second shower of the day. He walks straight to the fridge, snatching an apple that he sees right away and takes a huge bite out of the fruit. Mid chewing, the lanky male notices Mingyu and his eyes wandering from his snack to the distracted expression on the younger’s face.

How strange. Normally the younger has that mom look on his face when he’s cooking something. There’s a crease between Chanyeol’s eyebrows now, inwardly noting that it’s a little unusual for Mingyu to behave like this. So Chanyeol approaches him, wholeheartedly giving him a loud smack on his back. 

“’Sup, gyu?” He gives him a shit eating grin, hoping to startle the younger male. 

lost in thought, wondering what he did to deserve the pain of uncertainty. he burned the pork belly but not enough to sound the fire alarm. he was too empty to even feel the pain of watching a beautiful dish turn into something so horrific. he just stared at the plate all the time when he hears someone enter the kitchen. there was nothing to be done. unless he wanted to go to the mart to buy another pack to cook. he was too lazy. looking up, he saw chanyeol. it was the taller guy -- even taller than him -- and a good guy. although he doesn’t acknowledge his presence, he did make a note to finish preparing the food faster.

he was about to run to the kimchi soup when chanyeol smacked him in the head, effectively making it loll forward and for him to wake up. anger was the first emotion he felt, mainly because he hated being smacked on the head. anywhere else, he’ll be fine. his dad used to do it all the time. maybe it was his daddy issues peeking through. he swallowed it down, and rubbed the back of his head, looking like a lost puppy when he looked at chanyeol again. of course he didn’t know of his issues. so he couldn’t be mad at him. instead, he focused on his cooking. he lifted the red bean paste from the table, taking a spoonful -- or more, he was too busy trying to come up with some excuse cause he can never lie to anyone -- of it to dissolve it in the soup. “nothing, i just panicked because of a final.”