o the lights / the chase

         jisung liked to think he was a patient man, he grew up working in customer service after all, but somehow this little brat somehow ended up getting under his skin. from an outsiders perspective the kid was cute and innocent looking but jisung knew he was actually a spawn of satan. okay maybe not a spawn of satan but he was a pain in jisung’s ass and thats what mattered here. the kid would come in to study and would never buy anything but that wasn’t the problem. at first jisung took pity on the kid and would ‘accidentally’ break a pastry and slip it to the kid but as time went on he realized that the kid was like a stray cat, once you fed him, you couldn’t get rid of him. he was at a lost for what to do at this point, the kid was just too cute to kick out but at the same time jisung was running a business here and if he wasn’t planning on actually ever buying something he had to go. he’d tried a few times to kick jaehee out but all attempted ended in him cooing at the kid, giving him free coffee and a slice of cake. this time he had to be strong and not fall for that kid’s charms. “hey kid, what are you working on?” start off easy and then ease into the whole ‘buy something or get out’ thing. thats how his parents taught him to do it. 

╰ ⋆ @jaeheex ⋆ ╯

it started like this: the wifi router in his house went crack the night before a huge assignment was due, there was no food in his fridge, there was no warmth in his too small yet way too large house. the quaint cafe saved him that night, when nothing seemed to be working out. sure, he came for the free wifi, toasty warmth, occasional cute eye candies to take his mind off work.

but he ended up staying for the quaint cafe’s eccentric owner.

there was something about exasperating the man to the point of him contemplating out loud of kicking him out of the cafe that tickled jaehee in a way no one else could. but the man was also kind - he had eaten way too many “accidentally ruined” pies to not know this. jaehee also knew that he could only pull so many all-nighters and free load off someone else’s mug without being ordered to pay (capitalism was unfair and marginalising to those at the bottom). so when jisung ended up sitting adjacent to him with a strangely determined look, jaehee found himself narrowing his eyes already. 

“if i told you, you wouldn’t get it anyway,” he shot back with a lopsided grin, turning around his laptop to show a screen full of strings of code before pulling it back. “i’m kidding. maybe.”

she bites her lip around a giggle, eyes falling shut for something like contentment, anticipation at each tentative press of lips to skin. it feels good. it always does. there’s something different about this time, the prelude to what they both know is coming; she’s not laid out on the couch with his head between her legs, drunkenly begging him to have his way with her until he complies, mouth biting pretty patterns into the skin of her hip on his way up, hands loose around her wrists, hips, sides. “i thought you were drunk.” she says into the space between them, teasing.

she wonders vaguely what it is that’s put them here. there’s nothing particularly special about this evening - they’re frequent fixtures in each other lives, tiptoeing around what’s so blatantly fucking obvious to the people around them in the light of day and curling around each other with an enviable ease when their beds are too cold and lonely to sleep in alone at night. they save emotions for when they can’t remember and go about their lives under the illusion of availability. this feels different. 

she gets what he said earlier, about missing her. this.

“then what do you want?” she breathes, begs, fingers light on the skin of his shoulder as she settles into his lap, properly. she’s enticed by his hands, lips - soft explorations she hasn’t felt sober in far too long. they’re a pleasant distraction, the kisses he’s mouthing against her skin, thumb over her hipbone, sending a tingle through her nerves. he’s always been good with his mouth, has always known his way around. there’s little to nothing between them as it is, thin pieces of cloth a metaphor for the barrier they’d built between them in the name of preservation. she shifts her hips, returns the favor. innocent. head tilting, soft lips parting to kiss chastely where her fingers had been, she pulls back just enough that he has no choice but to look at her. “tell me.”

her teasing accusation rings clear in his ears and he knows he should say let’s get more soju or something along the lines of maybe i shouldn’t be here but-- but why not? the question replays in his head on a constant loop, his eyes trying to find the answer in hers. 

there’s a push and pull rhythm they’ve both perfected, one that comes naturally to them and keeps them going. he’s lost the beat today. it’s terrifying to not know how to react around her but it’s also liberating in a strange sense. he quirks a smile - lazy, flirtatious, a lie. he knows all the steps to the dance, it’s easy to slip back in to the routine. 

THAT BEING SAID. im literally doing my replies right now so. like. not going anywhere!!! please feel free to continue plotting/rping with joonie and jaehee! you can find me on twitter (I actually don’t tweet a lot of kpop sadly) (maybe except red velvet) (rip my soul) or on discord ( su 🎠❄#1720)!!!! I’ll be following yall slowly so pls look out for me :3

the damned tea. she’s the one who made it, so it only makes sense she drinks some of it. she’s the sober one here, she’s meant to be making the rational decisions. she can feel his eyes on her, she tries to not think about it.

“who said i was even thinking about it? i was just asking.” she tries to play it off as innocent curiosity but she knows, among other things, he can tell the difference. she huffs, letting out an exasperated laugh, even as she softens under his touch. it’s probably a flaw in her code that allots this much trust in one person, in him, when she’s so reluctant to give it to other people. she’s not even conscious of how much faith she puts in his hands, of how willing to believe in him she’s always been. she can only avoid his eyes for so long and she smiles, something soft and playful, when she finally looks at him and not the floor. 

“do you? and how’s that?” she asks, reaching out to thumb an eyelash off the skin of his cheek.

he catches her wrist once more, silently pressing a kiss into her soft skin. he’s not sure where the rare rush of bravado comes from - it’s usually his overthinking which pushes him to knock down a few shots before he can even tug her close to him. he can still feel the high but it’s slipping through his fingers quickly; the white noise in his head practically muting now. 

their hands are now intertwined and he uses them to pull her even closer, till she’s practically seated on his lap. “much better,” he murmurs, more to himself, leaning in to press his lips to the hollow behind her ear, where he knows she’s ticklish. he loves her laughter, he could hear it forever on loop.

                hani lets a snort sound in reply, knowing the younger boy had somewhat of a point. there wasn’t a huge crowd that morning, given the hour, and despite the oddity of blasting a club mix in the middle of a university cafe, it’s not as if hani particularly CARED, in the long run. “i guess you’re right,” she relents with a small shrug, already reaching for her backpack in order to lug her laptop back out of its confines.                  a small eye roll appears as she sets up her computer, aiming an unimpressed look over at her friend. “believe it or not, i don’t need my music to score hot chicks,” she counters, a grin spreading across her lips a moment later. “they flock to me naturally. it’s a gift.” she proceeds to shrug, a swift flip of her red ponytail finalizing her point.

there’s something about the woman that fascinated jaehee since day one - if he hasn’t been so terrified by her presence, he knows he’ll be hitting on her constantly. but this - this easy camaraderie and the casual banter - this he treasures much more. “don’t remind me,” he shoots back with an eye roll. “the last time we winged for each other, all the girls i was eyeing went for you.” his tone indicates he’s still sore about it but he can’t blame them really. hani just has the je ne sais quoi which draws him in as well. 

“sooooo, anyone caught your eye recently?” here’s another side that comes out around hani: his gossipy side, complete with wiggling eyebrows and a casual smirk. “please tell me your life is at least more exciting than mine.” 

she should probably feel more ashamed of the shiver that travels down her spine when his breath hits her skin. if anyone asks, her hands don’t shake when she’s caged between him and the counter with very little between them and her head doesn’t tilt either, encouraging him to get reacquainted with the unmarked skin of her neck, resists the instinct to whine when he pulls away entirely. anyone that says otherwise is a liar. she’s stronger than that.

she thinks she is. he’s a demon.

she narrows her eyes at his retreating back but can’t deny that she’s walked right into his game, rising to the challenge in a way that only speaks volumes to how fucking stubborn she is. “drink it, you nuisance,” it lacks the bite she intended. she figures it’d be just as easy to force him back down onto the couch and under a blanket, to tell him to shut his dumb drunk mouth and sleep it off, but there’s something in his tone that riles her up. she risks a glance at the clock on the wall, noting the time. it’s only been twenty minutes since his arrival. the night is still young. she knows what getting drunk together means.

she blames the fact that it’s a friday evening on her even contemplating it. she could sleep in tomorrow, if (if, if, if) something were to happen (which it wouldn’t), could sleep off the pleasant ache in her thighs ->

she tries not to make it obvious that she’s given in when she asks, “what were you drinking before you got here?” the seoul accent she tries so hard to maintain slips into something more colloquial in her attempt to play it cool, a dead giveaway. “soju?” there’s a bottle in the fridge. it’s big, more than enough.

he takes a tentative sip of the tea, a small sigh escaping when the warmth trickles down. he suddenly doesn’t want to answer her question - he doesn’t want her to get drunk. is it him being selfish? is he even allowed to be? a part of him hurts when he hums in agreement, raising his head to meet her unsure eyes. he doesn’t like the expression she’s wearing.

“but what about all this tea?” the uncertainty he spies switches quickly to exasperation; he prefers this one instead. his eyes never leave her as she sets up the table - he knows she feels them on her. there’s a sudden need to hear her voice, the earlier satoori she slipped into still ringing loud in his ears. 

It always made him curious what children were going through nowadays in comparison to what he has been through. Everyone seem to be going through a lot of different types of situations. “I don’t even know if she was a rich kid or not.  But, she probably was if she went to another daycare.” He wasn’t even close with the child so he really couldn’t say anything else about her. Usually he just saw her with her own group of friends and them just minding their own business. He only talked with the kids that approached him or wanting him to play around with them for a bit. 

A couple of minutes passed and during that time Jiwon moved from one step to another in cooking japchae. He just needed a couple of more minutes before the food was ready and the both of them could finally start eating. Hearing that Jaehee was hungry, he’s sure the younger could wait for a few more minutes. “I’m almost done and put the plates on the table. Don’t drop them or you’ll owe me however many plates you broke.” 

Meanwhile, Yejin had decided to wake up from her nap when she started to smell food. For her that was the signal that Jiwon was home. The cat jumped off from the couch and onto the floor and started making her way to the kitchen. But, the cat stopped walking when she noticed there was also someone else in the apartment. The cat literally glares at Jaehee because the cat isn’t too fond of the male. 

Jiwon gets all confused when Jaehee calls him and realizes that the male was just referencing that Yejin was around. “Hm? Oh, Yejin is awake? She was napping earlier,” he explained. “That’s why you didn’t see her earlier.” He didn’t think the cat would wake up so soon. 

“Yejin come here and stop bothering Jaehee,” he calls out to the cat and motions for the cat to come to him. The cat looks at Jaehee with another glare before looking at Jiwon and meowing at him. The cat then starts walking over to Jiwon and rubbing her head on his leg, but she still gave off those glares to Jaehee, clearly not enjoying his presence at the apartment. 

for all his earlier exclamations about cats in a cat fight, here jaehee was bare moments later, stuck in some form of power play with a cat. it should strike him as ironic but the thought would only register much later, when he wasn’t trying to win a glaring contest with jiwon’s evil child.

“yah, hyung, i’m telling you she’s evil.” hell, if jaehee could, he would write a fucking thesis on the topic. “look at how she looks at me. a cat, a normal cat, cannot do that shit.” to be very fair, jaehee did have a point: the cat seemed to melt into the older’s touch but clearly held some sort of vendetta against the younger which the latter wholeheartedly reciprocated as well. 

but for japchae, he was willing to tolerate any amount of devil activity. sparing one last withering class at yejin, he took the long way round just to get to jiwon, wiping down the plates before placing them carefully on the kitchen counter. another thing he should probably stock in his own house: plates. proper ones, not just those cheap disposable plastic ones. 

“can i just stay here,” he sighed dramatically, leaning against the counter as he watched jiwon finish up mixing their dinner.

         /. EYELIDS DREW TOGETHER as a g-a-z-e was directed towards the adjacent, a twist of disgust within features (-was jaehee proud of the infliction? and his stupidity?-), an emitted scoff vocalising discontent, as he neared himself— a closer look at what he was having to deal with… how did he keep finding himself in these situations? ‘ next time, check, ’ minho commented, a furrow of his brows, whilst his fingertips searched in the first aid kit (-hoping to have sufficient supplies to tend to what had been presented to him-), ‘ i’m not here to fix you up. ’ there was a sternness held within his tone, SERIOUS with what was being said— though, for different reasons than what would more than likely be assumed. minho was in training, he wasn’t QUALIFIED yet, and, quite honestly, his confidence was w-a-v-e-r-i-n-g (-not that he’d allow that to show-) and to avoid doing this again would be preferable… especially considering the LACK of resources he had.

‘ okay, ’ minho shrugged, the thought to even q-u-e-s-t-i-o-n it faded (-what even was the point?-), as he positioned necessary items before him— calculating the process, before proceeding to undertake it. there was a hover of warning upon minho’s lips, words that died as quick as they threatened to spill, as the male began patching up the MESS before him— making the effort to make the experience as pain-free and as quick as possible… and though jaehee irritated him, he still wouldn’t prolong the pain on the other.

for all his tough demeanour and sparse words, minho had never once uttered a refusal. jaehee considered bringing it up, considered reminding the boy that kindness was practically second nature to him even if he denied it so vehemently--- a sharp hiss of pain obliterated that thought completely. well, he did deserve it. “i’ll try not to put up on the spot again,” he offered through grit teeth, a tentative promise they both knew was bound to be broken. 

it took far too long - he could feel his leg throb with pain eevery second that ticked by - but eventually the sharp smell of antiseptic overpowered the stench of blood. he wasn’t sure if the palpable sigh of relief was his or the other’s-- perhaps both. “you’re a lifesaver,” he breathed out, eyes fluttering to a brief close as he stretched out his leg. it did nothing to stop the pain of course. (if anything, it seemed to multiply ten-fold). but it was at least more comfortable and he had a shift to finish. 

Now this guy was just getting on Hyuk’s nerve. Of course people knew the fucking chainsmokers with their repetitive music. “You know, maybe some people are trying hard to be known, okay?” Hyuk said, this time approaching the male and staring at him head on. “They work their ass off trying to make this what they do for a living, so if you don’t appreciate that then fuck right off.” Hyuk scoffed. “If that’s what you think good music is, then I don’t even want to be near you right now.” he said, harshly as he downed a few more drinks before getting ready to turn and walk away from this asshole.

there were three things which jaehee generally didn’t deal well with: rejection, failure and panic. this situation? it was a tragic combination of all three that was beginning to spiral out of complete control. it didn’t help that he was starting to get annoyed because really, he hadn’t expected the object his fanatic desires to turn out to be a complete sore loser. 

“you’re too good to me, jang jaehee,” she says, whispers, a finger softly tracing patterns on his skin. it’s almost too easy how she melts into his embrace, the familiar sensation of being covered and protected and held. she’s almost overwhelmed.

she sniffs at his questions, suddenly confronted with the reality of where they are and what they’re doing, what they are and the state he’s in. this shouldn’t be happening, a voice in the back of her head scolds, firm and unyielding even as she fights the urge to shift in his arms and bury her face in his chest. she doesn’t want to think about it. she could almost cry.

“we’re always okay.” she replies, voice just as soft, breaking a little at the end. “i always -” it’s then that the kettle decides to scream, startling her and making the decision for the both of them as she climbs over him and back towards the kitchen, tugging down her - his - her t-shirt for decency as she goes to take the water off the stove. “we should get you warmed up, hm?” she tones, already grabbing mugs for the both of them.

he fucking loathes that kettle. it’s undoubtedly the devil reincarnate. it should go to the deepest, coldest layer of hell where it belongs.

still face-down and many degrees colder, he pushes himself off the couch with a disgruntled huff. “i was warm,” he grumbles. the journey back to the kitchen seems to take him much longer - his head’s still heavy from the dangerous combination of winter rain and cheap soju. 

“what if i don’t want to be sober?” he leans his weight against the small table in the kitchen, eyes never once leaving her. “what if i want to stay drunk?” there’s an unspoken challenge in his tone, his chin slightly jutted up as if trying to rile her. he walks towards her then, gait slow but sure, a hunter closing in on his prey. there’s a slow smirk spreading, obviously enjoying the way she seems wary of him all of a sudden. 

is it fair to blame everything on the alcohol? 

he’s practically pressed against her now, hands pinning her on either side against the counter, his breath brushing against the shell of her ear. time pauses for a second, an hour, a year - it could have stopped forever and he wouldn’t complain. 

she acknowledges his words with another hum and a smile, pretends she has no idea what he’s talking about, dressed in one of his t-shirts as she’s hanging the one he’d just taken off up like she’d intended. his jeans would have to go in the dryer. 

”i figured,” she replies to his admission of non-sobriety, careful not to jostle him as she sets the cycle to normal, turning the dial twice and pressing the start button when prompted. she’ll probably have to give them a proper wash when morning comes. she lets his hands wander;she missed him too. “you saw me the other day,” she tells him through something too breathy to really be a laugh, turning them both around to walk, attached, out of the nook and back into the fluorescence of the kitchen. the skin she can feel against her own still feels a little cold. she sets some water to boil for tea. 

she guides him down onto the couch in the living room, toppling down with him when he doesn’t let go. “besides, you’re better at it than i am.” she’s not sure what she’s talking about. “you need to sleep.”

he only hums in response at her soft order, shifting them so that she’s settled in between him and the couch. it's a tight fit but one that he’s rather used to - they somehow end up at the same spot more times than they technically should. so it’s not unusual for him, this situation: clinging to her like a life raft, head burrowed into the mess of her hair, legs tangling. he’s tempted to succumb to the whispers of sleep.

except something in the words she said continue to bug him. he cracks one eye open, stares at her for a moment. “you’re fucking smart, cheong minji,” he declares. “no one’s better than you.” it’s almost with a renewed petulance that he hides himself again. 

The bar, Hyuk realized, wasn’t a really big spot. He had downed a few shots already, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear some dude next to him complain about his music. He looked at his side, seeing the male in question who was ridiculing his music. He rolled his eyes. “Like the chainsmokers are any better.” Hyuk said, a bit loudly, hoping that the male would hear. He motioned for the bartender to give him another shot, trying to play cool, and not some petty artist who couldn’t handle criticism well. If it was even criticism. To Hyuk, it sounded like full on bashing with no reason, which he hated. 

so jaehee never really had the best of luck but this?! this was just god fucking with him. he struggled with a blinding white flash of panic as he considered drowning himself in the nearest water body - dramatic but at least it would wash away all the embarrassment. because here he was, probably as close to calling himself a fanboy yet insulting his  i d o l.

well, fuck. 

“well at least people know them,” he shot back on instinct, and jesus nope that was probably not the correct thing to say to a guy who took up close to 20% of his daily playlist. “i mean... their music is good, you know?” it was almost an out of body experience, the way he kept shooting his own foot and yet was unable to stop it. 

the “‘cause you’d do anything for me,” implied in the cheeky gaze she levels him with goes unsaid, but the implications are there even as she takes his shirt, waterlogged and stiff, with the intention of hanging it up to dry overnight. she can practically feel his exhaustion radiating off of him in waves, so she figures she’ll spare him this time.

she doesn’t get the chance to take it anywhere because in the next moment, she’s pressed almost against him and at a loss for what she’d been about to do. the shirt is on the floor. he’d always been a bit of an octopus so she’s not surprised by the gesture, rather revels in the quiet moment, brief as it is. all she can smell is the tangy scent of rain water with an underly of something distinctly jaehee. she can’t even find it in her to complain about the water dampening the shoulder of her t-shirt.

still he’s shirtless and her eye can’t help but wander, she parts her lips to break the silence but he beats her to the punch, effectively snapping her out of it. she tries to stifle the smile that splits her face, rolls her eyes. “mmm,” she hums indulgently, her tone a purr, slips one of her wrists free and trails a finger down his chest and into his waistband, steps in closer. “i’d enjoy it even more if you weren’t dripping water on my floor.” she disentangles herself, bending down to pick up his shirt with one hand and shove a towel in his chest with the other. 

the pout he directs at her back goes unnoticed - he chooses to sulk silently instead while towelling down. he knows he should kick the habit of calling her house his home but it’s become such a routine that it feels odd at this point if he stops. anyways, she’s practically colonised his entire wardrobe. 

“at least i’ll never run out of clothes at your place,” he calls over. the lights are harsher in the kitchen and it makes him squint - he momentarily loses sight of her for a moment. he blames the brief panic he feels on the alcohol in his system. 

He needed that carrot for what he was suppose to cook, so he’s not surprised when he hears Jaehee whining when he took it from him. He organizes everything so he doesn’t have to search and struggle if he was looking for a specific ingredient while he cooked. He goes to a cabinet and pulls out a pan and sets it on the stove to use later once he had everything prepared. “There is one, but I wasn’t there at the time. I heard it from another worker. So, there was this girl who had a birthday party coming up and invited some people from the daycare. From what I was told she gave the birthday invitations to everyone, except this one girl. When that girl asked the child’s response was that she didn’t want someone like her at the party since she’s going to ruin it and she wasn’t going to fit in. It lead to them arguing and even physically fighting one another. The workers had to separate them and talk to them individually before putting the two in the same room to resolve everything. And ever since after that incident the girl who was handing the birthday invitations apparently moved to another daycare as I was told.”

Before he started to cook he went to go wash his hands and when he starts cooking, he takes a piece of meat and began to slice it into strips with a knife. He then puts the sliced meat into a bowl. Listening to Jaehee’s question, he had to think for a moment. He didn’t have work. He had his classes to attend though, but he was entirely free after that. He didn’t have any plans either except just heading back home and spending time with Yejin. But, he could head over to Jaehee’s home and hang around for a bit. “I have my classes tomorrow, but I’m free after that. I can drop by after my classes finish tomorrow.”

“children in a catfight,” is the younger’s gleeful response, eyes gleaming at the gossip he was getting. it hardly matters to his life of course - he has nothing to do with jiwon’s elementary school kids and no one to particularly share children’s gossip with. yet it was fun nonetheless, to hear a slice of jiwon’s life which was so different from his. “i bet she’s a rich kid,” he says with a slight disdain, sniffling his nose. “the rich ones are the worst.” it’s punctuated by a nod, as if he has first hand experience dealing with the mentioned rich kids. 

the dinner starts to take shape in front of him and it gets even harder to keep his hands away from swooping the ingredients. “i’m hungry,” he nags with a bit of a whine, aware that he’s already being a burden enough as it is. but he’s so eager for some good homecooked food that he even offers to help--- “i’ll go get the plates!” it’s when he’s heading over to find the plates that he finally meets his nemesis. 

“hyung, your cat!”  

it’s his good reflexes which stop him from dropping the plates but he clutches to them, glaring at the feline who he could swear is glaring daggers back at him as well. “leave, you rascal,” he hisses dramatically, edging one toe towards her yet still very much trapped.