sweet talk

holiday: i’ll write our characters celebrating a holiday together 

this was the worst holiday.

eunwoo raved over orange jack-o-lanterns and gushed about red and white candy canes. meanwhile, he scrunched his nose at tacky conversation hearts and chocolate roses.

other holidays were loaded with cheer and warmth. valentine’s day was different. it was all on the surface, and it trusted its profit on those with simple hearts. saps were fooled into the pinks and pastels. everyone was dedicated to a love that would never last. it was fake. 

eunwoo was no pessimist. in fact, he was sickeningly optimistic. it was february fourteenth that happened to plague him with a twenty-four hour flu.

love: i’ll write a drabble of my character admitting they love yours

for someone that handled it quite often, eunwoo didn’t know much about love. 

he knew what it looked like. it wasn’t red roses or foiled hearts. it was fleeting. now and then, it was caught in a photograph. the minuscule details of how close someone clung onto their partner or how their fingers curled carefully into another’s clothing were what eunwoo traced over in these faded moments. other times, it was a glaze of fondness in a man’s eyes or a tinge of pink in a woman’s cheeks. it was delicate and alluring from the outside-in.

he knew what it smelled like. it was as simple as some burnt toast and overcooked eggs for a sunday breakfast, or a spritz of a christmas gift’s perfume. the aroma of love was tender, and it reminded him of warm honey being stirred into tea. it was life’s syrup to sweetness, and its scent was one that caught at the back of one’s throat, lingering there for a short while.

he knew what it sounded like. sometimes it was loud and drunken, impassioned on the rewards of lust. other times it was soft and needy, sighing out puffs of desperation, sandwiched between each breath. whether it was a burst of chime-like laughter or those long croons better saved for the bedroom, love’s voice was full. it was rounded with more than oxygen from the lungs, but almost like the heart were pulsing a fervor into it.

but he had forgotten what it felt like — until he met jongin.

fight: i’ll write a drabble of my character fighting with/against yours

the kiss was smeared like a brand on his lips, still scorching like the iron just met his skin. the rain showered the two in a sheet. jongin’s jacket was sodden on his shoulders.

“you did what?” baekhyun was murderous, and his voice alone had enough bite to have the hounds retreating. eunwoo was no exception.

“i— kissed jongin.” he almost didn’t believe it himself. yet, there was still the telltale tingle at his tongue. guilt was reaping in his chest, and he readied himself to apologize.

— tw: blood, violence

movie: i’ll write a drabble of our characters watching a movie together

"that movie is still in theaters,” eunwoo pointed out, a dubious wrinkle in his nose. jaehyun had lured him here — for what? a lie, apparently.

“a friend burned me a copy,” jaehyun explained, holding up the compact disc as proof. 

“so, this is illegal?” compared to other felonies, this was minor. it was also a secret. eunwoo wound down, smoothing his ruffled feathers. “alright.”

the criminal in the room did a little cheer before scampering over to the television. all the while, he was rambling through the entire plot of finding nemo, the prequel to the animation he was preparing for enjoyment. eunwoo relaxed with a roll of his eyes, settling into the cushions of the couch.

soon, the two children were smushed together, remote at the ready in jaehyun’s hand. the volume was raised to one hundred before the black screen faded to cartoon-y images. neither had seen the trailer, but it looked different than the first movie — similar to the shows he sometimes wandered over on netflix. maybe this was a reimagined version.

so, it continued for twenty minutes. 

— tw: mild nsfw material

rain: i’ll write a fluffy drabble of our characters kissing in the rain

rain was wet — eunwoo learned this in kindergarten, paired with colorful photos that portrayed each season. the thick paper was laminated to conserve its integrity from the grubby hands of five-year-olds. however, eunwoo may as well have learned it here, pressed to minhyuk, cool droplets snaking down his spine.

minhyuk smelled of rainfall. the essence of earth was matted into his cologne, like something natural and whole and unheard of in this world. it lingered with his warm breath, cascading as a vapor would between them, and eunwoo almost didn’t feel the beads of water streaming down the side of his face, collecting on his eyelashes and falling with each blink. 

it was cold, but the only thing trembling was eunwoo’s heart — he didn’t know it could beat like this. he was warm. the quiet between them was too loud, louder than the fit of precipitation around them. flustered, eunwoo looked away, breathing in the fresh air that wasn’t yet polluted by the fever that settled and swelled between their bodies. it was impossible — eunwoo wasn’t the sort to be swept up in a moment, a victim of silly daydreams and idealized romance. 

then, minhyuk’s hands fit around his cheeks, raindrops melting between their skin, and eunwoo wasn’t so sure anymore. his thumb was velvet and smoothed away droplets as if they were tears, tsking under his breath. the boy could feel everything — how minhyuk’s palm was a blanket over  his cheeks and his fingertips planted heavily on his temples. it wasn’t a bad feeling.

one of them leaned in first, he didn’t know who. all he remembers is being pulled forward, and a pair of lips met his own. it was innocent and soft and nice. eunwoo was a little dizzy in the head.

@ccjongin

eunwoo knew it. jongin’s stench was like a tramp in need of a bath. every day, he detected the details of love curling in the air, just shy of his fingertips. it was everywhere. it glazed over his client’s eyes and whistled down a sun-soaked sidewalk. it was raw in his barista’s voice, and it was heard between the thin walls of his apartment. whenever he encountered it, it flooded into him like the sweetest oxygen. yet, it sickened him. ever since the seal’s fall, it ached him in the confines of his chest. it was here, now. jongin was in love — he reeked of it.

he was quiet. if he were being honest, he had known of jongin’s condition for weeks. eunwoo didn’t picture himself in the position to ask questions. true, jongin was the most important person to him — even if he himself was weak, he would defend the boy with his life. still, he was hesitant. the other had never expressed anger or frustration towards him, and he didn’t want to see the only stable relationship he had crumble. but now, it was so potent, so dizzying, that he could no longer ignore it.

@cctaehyung​

ricky wasn’t scum per say — but eunwoo had his share of opinions. the quicksilver lot was something special. although, everything he knew was filtered through the eyes and ears of kim jongin. these senses were muddled underneath the boy’s care, almost as if his big head were shoved up his own ass. jongin was naive. the fool had a swollen heart, and there was enough room in there for the entirety of the human race. it was a curse and a blessing. the former half was fatter, and it left droplets of black ink in his footprints. regardless, he was pretty close to the only thing eunwoo had. trust was a tart taste in his mouth, but maybe he could swallow a little on jongin’s behalf.

back to ricky. eunwoo harbored a hushed fascination for this one. there was a knack for philandering that a blind man could see — but why? it wasn’t his business, even if he entertained the idea of them being friends. his courage was too shallow to veer off from friendly chitchat. nonetheless, he felt comfortable with ricky. simultaneously, he was irked. he didn’t want to befriend someone that spat on his profession. he was going to fix it. this included almost turning back about a dozen times in the process.

finally, he reached the other’s front door. this wasn’t his first time at ricky’s apartment. last time, the overgrown child cornered him into watching zootopia four times in a row. ricky probably had a crush on the fox. here, hand poised and ready to knock, he almost ditched this plan. what was he thinking? he had never done something like this before. it was unsafe and irresponsible. all his doubts simmered down to the fact: maybe he cared about ricky. just a little bit. eunwoo didn’t want to see him sink. 

@cctaemin

the bleeps of pacman and clangs of pinball bounced around in eunwoo’s eardrums. students were still clad in their uniforms — which needed a good ironing. a chain of teenage boys charged through, ramming into him. eunwoo wasn’t a klutz, but gravity wasn’t his friend either. his balance bailed on him, and he lurched backwards. the crunch of glass was heard beneath his elbow, chilling his blood with an awful realization. this couldn’t be good.

after sweeping a skittish look around, assuring there were no bystanders, he righted himself. next, he assessed the damage. fantastic. the machine’s screen was smashed in, splintering pieces framing the perimeter. eunwoo stared at the disaster in minor distress, and he no longer registered the roars of fanfare that danced around him. but he couldn’t just walk away. that would be beyond impolite and downright unethical.