im your poison.

clutching pieces of parchment in hand, hansol heaved a sigh. the captain wanted to draft a game play for the slytherin quidditch team as early as this point of the season. he knew very well not enough preparation could ensure they’d snatch the trophy for this school year, but it could always increase their chances at winning. hansol wouldn’t dare risk their chances at having a shot at it.

and so gathering around his team on a cool saturday afternoon, he wasn’t any surprised to see he was the first one to arrive by the bleachers. a part of him was convinced a number of members won’t show up, but he always held on that little strand of hope that they’d come around for a quick brainstorming meeting. it was still too early in the season for deliberate planning anyway.. one could easily wonder what was the point. 

he knew that the others had brushed the whole meet up off as something that didn’t matter, rolling their eyes or saying they had somewhere else to be. asher still finds it funny. but despite the others brushing it off, asher had decided that it would be good to show up, even if he was the only one to be there. to which of course he was when he eventually arrived at the bleachers.

1: Hot, Steamy kiss

2: Cheek Kiss

3: Nose Kiss

4: Forehead Kiss

5: Firm Kiss

6: Gentle Peck

7: Romantic Kiss

8: Eyelid Kiss

9: Jawline Kiss

10: Neck Kiss

11: Collarbone Kiss

12: Chest Kiss

13: Stomach Kiss

14: Kiss Along the Hips

15: Kiss in the Rain

16: Upside-Down Kiss

17: Goofy Kiss

18: Underwater Kiss

19: Forceful Kiss

20: Any of the Above

gabriel wants nothing more in that moment than for asher to go away; just seeing him seems to hurt, making something in his chest ache and block up his throat, choking him and pushing more tears to the corners of his eyes. asher has it so easy - he doesn’t have to feel this every time he’s around gabriel, but gabe isn’t as lucky. just being near him hurts, in the most exquisite way, and it’s both addicting, and terrible.

sometimes he feels like he can’t even breathe when looking at asher, and seeing him with that girl made it feel as if there was something in his chest clawing it’s way out and cracking his ribs on the way. he half expected his heart to crack his ribs and rip open the skin on his chest and run away from him so it didn’t have to deal with everything gabriel feels anymore.

it’s a simple question, but asher’s words seem to echo in gabriel’s head because it reminds him of how many lies he’s telling him. he knows he doesn’t hate him, he knows it’s probably more like the exact opposite, but at the same time he hates how asher make’s him feel, so it’s an easy jump to make to simply say he hates asher, when the truth couldn’t be further away from that.

he doesn’t realise asher’s moved closer until their knees brush, and suddenly he’s far too close, but not close enough at the same time. gabriel wants to hit him as he grabs the front of his shirt, wants to pull on his hair and shout at him and call him stupid and tell him just how much he hates him over and over again until he loses his voice. his anger’s only fuelled more as asher speaks.

but before he’s had a chance to start shouting and throwing his fists around he’s pulled forward slightly, and soft, warm lips press to his own. it takes a mere millisecond for gabriel to react, hands raising to cup asher’s cheeks and lean back into the kiss, pouring all his anger into the kiss and finding it morphing into burning passion.

but then he pulls back, eyes wide as he realises what just happened, and reminds himself of how he’s supposed to be angry at asher. but he is, he’s still angry, but there’s something else there now, and as he growls deeply, eyes heavy lidded and locked on asher he speaks low through gritted teeth. “god, i hate you.”

before grabbing at asher’s collar to pull him back against him, letting their chests bump hard against each other. he bites asher’s bottom lip slightly, sliding one hand into his hair and gaining a tight grip at the back of his head. gabe wonders just how drunk he is that he’d let this happen, and actively encourage it, but then, he thinks, he’s been waiting over three years for this…

the whole thing shocks himself when he leans in to kiss the other. a spur of the moment thing that happened because a. he was drunk (talk about having liquid courage) and b. it was something that he’d wanted to do for a while, he’d just never had the balls to do it before.

as gabriel presses into the kiss it makes asher feel better. suggesting that perhaps he felt exactly the same way as him, though he wasn’t exactly sure what way that was exactly. but all logic, and caution for that matter, is thrown out the window in that exact moment gabriel kisses him back. asher’s skin tingles to his touch, passion he wasnt aware he even had erupting throughout his entire body as he hungrily poured kisses onto his lips. the feeling coming to an abrupt halt as the slytherin boy pulls back.

a frown threatens to engulf ashers face once he looks into the others eyes, his own a mixture of confusion and frustration. all he wanted to do was keep kissing, he hated the fact gabriel had pulled away merely to grow another threat his way. 

“just shut up and kiss me” he manages to grumble before gabriel pulls him back for what he only assumes to be another round of passionate kisses. god he was confusing at times. but it wasn’t like asher was complaining about anything, in fact it was quite the opposite. he’s almost too impatient waiting for the other to lean in, his own hands tugging at gabriels shirt to pull him in faster then he already was. letting out a grunt when their bodies collide against one another.

lips greeting the others in a way that screamed ‘i want you’ but also mixed with a smirk that tugs at his mouth when he feels the nip at his lower lip. what had started as something just to shut the other up had quickly turned into something more rough, more passionate then a just mere kiss, and asher was liking every minute of it.

early memories from beauxbatons were the last thing that sejun liked to sit down and reminiscence on. the first days of being excited, of how wonderful everything was, how he had never wanted anything more than to read every book and practice every type of magic. the feverish energy that he had to learn, and then the dump of ice water over him when the older student cornered him.

(”halfies aren’t welcome here. freak of nature.”)

the tension in his shoulders increased when he hears his name again, when he has to exhale lowly to calm his nerves and turns his head to look over asher as if they were slytherins, as if they were getting along; as if there wasn’t the panicked stabbing of his heart.

“to study somewhere quiet,” he answers, the lie he’d planned from the moment he got up and going on it with impulse. a flickered glance to the first years who were meant to be the sole reason for his wanting a quieter place. all he wanted was to get away from one person.

the seventh year who was coming closer and uttering out such an obvious threat. everything read between the lines and that made sejun more nervous. if it was out, he wouldn’t have to deal with the way his heart sweated in his chest at the thought of someone else figuring him out. “no – why would i have anything to hide?” sejun scoffs up, averting his eyes to the book and then his escape.

“i really just want to go study in peace,” he continues, voice pressured and urgent despite his attempt to remain calm. there were people nearby, someone could over hear – tomorrow everyone would know, would be whispering about him, would be laughing. the paranoia only seemed to get worse the longer he had the secret.

even asher knew that he could be a snake (fitting for the house that he was in) at times. it was the sole thing, when he wasn’t playing quidditch, that seemed to keep him amused most of the time. and usually he wasn’t one to toy with other slytherins now that he was older but the fact that sejun was keeping a secret from everyone was too good not to let the opportunity go.

and he likes that he’s made sejun all jumpy. loves that he’s the only one there that seems to know that sejun wasnt all that he made himself out to be. just wait till the others find out, he’d thought to himself when he had first find out sejun’s little secret. but he wouldnt tell them - at least not yet, he was enjoying having a little fun.

“but why study when you could have fun with your friends” he muses, as the grin on his face turns into that twisted smirk he always wore when he was up to something. tilting his head to the side in an almost mocking way.

he enjoys playing around with people. getting under their skin and watching them struggle like it was all some big game to him which in theory was actually true. so when he catches sight of sejun starting to become uncomfortable towards his words he knows that he’s succeeding with his plan. “well then if you have nothing to hide sejunnie, why are you running away?” 

when he gets close enough asher lets his arm slither its way around the others neck. pulling him closer to him so that he couldn’t run away, after all he had important things to discuss with sejun and that meant he needed his full attention. which by now he was sure he’d gotten. before the other could realise asher had begun walking, forcefully making the other come with him whether he liked it or not. 

they haven’t always gotten along, but ten could call their relationship now … complacency.  tolerance.  he thinks it helps along the way that he and asher have both been on the quidditch team and faced the ups and downs of games both lost and won; the high spirits and the finger pointing when things go wrong.  the slytherins, like most house quidditch teams he presumes, are hot blooded - possibly even more so when it comes to their deep rooted pride for the sport and ten is the same.  maybe that’s why they’re both able to tolerate each other enough now.

so with his glass of butterbeer in hand, he approaches asher after seeing the opportunity, practically falling into the couch beside him.  he’s not drunk - butterbeer only has a minute remnant of alcohol after its brewed, allowing him to at least keep up appearances that he’s the Head Boy.  

he swirls the amberish brown liquid around in his cup, watching as it span around the cup before placing it to his lips and taking a big sip. he almost gets up to get another drink when ten plops himself down in the seat next to him, asher turning his head to face him. a sort of smile sprawling on his lips when the other somewhat congratulates him.

Friday night, ten pm. Most students would be stuck with their nose in a  book, maybe chatting with their friends– winding down from the week. 

All, except Abel, usually. It was just expected of him to be up to something. 

“Hey, lameass.” His own form of endearment. There was the typical look of trouble in his face as Abel parked himself on the other’s bed. It was obvious that whatever he was going to say wasn’t going to be good. 

“Wanna go get like… fucked up for something?” 

Like any normal student, of course. 

“Some kids are getting together under the quidditch stands. Wanna crash it?” 

that or it was the fact that he was incredibly bored and had nothing better to do. 

but when an all too familiar voice calls out he doesn’t realise its aimed at him, that is until he lets his eyes gaze up when he feels the bed dip slightly under the weight of abel plopping down on it. “mmm?”

a smile planting itself on his lips when the other suggests something that could be fun.

“are you kidding me? hell yes. im gunna loose my sanity if i stay here any longer.”

trying to ignore the way the sun was managing to hit him right in the eyes, baekhyun shifted and moved toward with a bucket towards the hippogriff that was tethered loosely to the ground. supposedly, after an incident a number of years ago, this was the first time one had been allowed back onto the grounds and even so, only the upperclassmen who took care of magical creatures willingly got to deal with them now. even so, there had been permission slips. “just remember to bow before you try to get close,” he absentmindedly warns when he sees someone moving out of the corner of his eye. he didn’t want to end up being witnessed to a mauling. ( @epasher )

when gabriel first met asher, way back on the first day of their first year, stood among all the other first years as they filed into the great hall to be sorted he’d decided asher was going to be his best friend. it just so happened they’d been sorted into the same house and had spent years together, but perhaps they hadn’t been the best of friends.

they fought and made up more times than gabe could count, but they always came back to the same dynamic - playful teasing that only sometimes stepped over the line and provoked a more angered reaction, and a good friend who he could rely on. they’d never been the type of friends who talked deeply about things that worried them or upset them, even if gabriel had wanted to be.

sometimes he thinks he needs someone to confide in, to tell about the things that trouble him and keep him laying awake at night, but he’s never confided in asher for fear that he’d be mocked for his worries - people like gabriel aren’t meant to worry about things; everything is easy for boys like gabriel, born to wealthy, well-known and respected people.

or at least they should be, which remains the reason why he’s unable to tell anybody when he’s scared, or hurting, or worrying about something.

maybe that’s why he’s so cruel sometimes - it’s the darkness he bottles up seeping out.

but despite the years they’d been close, nothing but gabriel’s feelings had changed. he’d shifted from desiring a confidant and best friend, to desiring so much more. his chest aches every time he looks at asher, and in his intoxicated mind that’s asher’s fault. had he been less enticing, less breathtakingly enchanting, then gabriel wouldn’t feel like his chest was caving in every time he set eyes on him.

so his anger only bubbles, and boils as he peers up through his wet lashes at asher. “nothing you say, or do will help! can’t you just leave me alone?! you can’t do anything right, can you? it’s all your fault; you’re so stupid, jesus christ!” he lifts one of his hands from the table and digs his nails into his palm harder as he slams his fist against the desk beside him, teeth gritting as he feels the force of it shoot up through his arm, the pain only angering him further.

“sometimes you just make me hate you!” as if he could ever hate asher, maybe it would hurt less if he was able to.

they’d been through a lot together and had practically grown up with one another. starting from the first time they had even stepped foot in the castle, becoming friends almost instantly when they found themselves sat next to each other at the slytherin table, to laughing till they could cry or picking on the new first years and making their life hell. they had done it together as friends. the best friends (at least thats what asher always thought) yes they had fights, but it would be quickly resolved and they’d go straight to being as close as ever.

he hadn’t noticed that the feelings the two shared had changed into something new entirely. hadn’t realised that garbriel looked at him in a different way then before and that deep down he had done the exact same. after all he never knew what to do with peoples feelings when they’d come out or when he’d found himself liking them back.

so when gabriel calls him out for being an asshole. for being someone who apparently couldn’t do anything right’ he blinks a few times, before asher sneers.

though its not exactly like he could help himself, with the way that gabriel was acting like some bratty child throwing a temper tantrum because they hadn’t got their way. (the alcohol was starting to cloud his judgement) it was clear to see that although the other slytherin boy was clearly in pain and hurting, asher was finding it amusing — a dick move on his behalf. 

there is a moment where deep down he knows what he’s doing is wrong, that he’s only adding fuel to the fire and probably making things worse in the long run. gabriel’s words seem to go through one ear and out the next and he cant help but let the anger resurface once he is accused of being the one at fault, when clearly he knew he wasn’t. he disregards the warning signs that flare in his mind telling him not to react and continues to be the ignorant asher that he always was. only it was made worse by the alcohol that was swimming around his system, intoxicating his mind. taking a step closer towards the other he lets out a loud sigh and rolls his eyes in response to gabe’s threats. “if you hate me so much then why do you hang around me all the time?”

one more step closer and asher’s knees are brushing up against the others legs, closing the distance that he’d kept in fear that gabe would lash out at him. but at this point he doesn’t care. his hands find themselves grabbing at the loose shirt he was wearing. fingers bunching the fabric up as his hands turn into fists. “you accuse me of all these things when you’re just as bad. its so pathetic.”