hedonism

“Hey, not everyone who’s attractive is a model. Most of them aren’t, actually,” he teased in return, rolling his eyes playfully. He had to admit, Jongin was a pretty easy person to get along with. Which was saying something, because he did not usually warm up to strangers so quickly. It usually took him a while to loosen up enough to joke around with people, but Jongin was an exception. “So, um, how does the whole modelling thing work?” His mom used to like to watch those Insert-country-here’s Next Top Model shows, and glimpsing one or two minutes of a couple episodes was about as much as he knew about that kind of thing.

A faint smirk rose to Jongin’s lips at the other’s words, and he couldn’t argue that there were plenty of attractive people who didn’t model, just as plenty of models weren’t all that attractive in actuality. “The modelling thing,” he began, a soft hint of amusement lacing his voice at the other’s terminology, “For me it wasn’t really traditional, I guess. My mom has a lot of connections - she’s an actress - and since I’m not really good at things besides being somewhat attractive, she decided I should try modelling. So thankfully that worked out for me, but most people have to bust their asses to make it,” he shrugged.

Han has written and rewritten that letter a million of times before finally having the courage and feeling like it was good enough for Jongin, especially because besides the cake he’s bringing later that’s pretty much his present. It’s hard to choose something actual physical for his roommate who, even if Han forgets it sometimes, is pretty rich and could probably buy the world, so Han ended up sticking to something more personal, something that no amount of money in the world can buy which is his clumsy words written in the fanciest paper Han could reasonably buy, he only hopes that Jongin won’t laugh that much of him when he reads it and thinks that Han is just the sappiest person in the world ( which is wrongly thought by him since Jongin himself is the sappiest person in the galaxy and his taste in movies can prove Han’s point ). He’s still a little nervous though when he goes to work, leaving a still asleep Jongin behind, and it doesn’t take long for his coworkers how he is a little more fidgety than usual and he might be messing up things he usually doesn’t, but they’re polite enough to not ask and just help him not screwing up the sauce.

Jongin doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s given such sentimental items. Most of the gifts he’s received throughout his life consisted of designers and expensive items that were nice, of course, but they were also easy. His mother regularly went shopping on Rodeo so it wasn’t as though it was a surprise to see a gift from Armani or one of the other half dozen high-end stores she frequented. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t thankful, he always made sure to tell her how much he appreciated the gifts, but they were a stark contrast to the personal letter Han had left for him.

“I’d love to be somewhere where I wasn’t the one who looked completely different.” He said with a small smile. He wondered what it would be like, to be in a school that was diverse. Or to be in a town where people didn’t stare at him like he had two heads or something. Really, he wasn’t that different - it just looked a little weird that he was the only one in his class with black hair and that he was one of about five kids in the class who weren’t blonde. It was certainly something. He didn’t think that he’d ever get that chance but he didn’t care. “You’d think they’d stop staring, I was born here and I’ve never lived anywhere else - but they still stare at me… every day.” He shook his head. He wished he would answer back about that, but he never would. People were assholes about his race - but he didn’t care. He was going to do anything it took to get out of Switzerland.

Jongin didn’t actually know much about what it would be like to stick out as much as he imagined the other would in a place like that. “That sounds like hell, bro, I hope some day you get out of here,” he offered with a soft snort. He knew that he was privileged in many ways, and one of those included not really ever having many issues with being Korean like he knew many others could deal with. “People are fucked up...I guess I never really thought about how awkward it could be. Maybe I’m spoiled,” he said with just a soft laugh.

Han can’t say that he’s completely calm and comfortable when he goes back to the living room where Jongin is waiting for him, just hoping that he hasn’t crossed any lines but he really doesn’t have anything to worry about if Jongin’s reaction is anything to go by. “I don’t think they curse in cliche movies, Jongin.” Han says in a teasing tone, a smirk appearing on his lips because he’s a little too pleased with the way the taller male seems affect by a simple thing as his roommate in a dress and Han wonders if he’s reacting like that because all of the whole context or it’s just a thing that he normally has for things like that — Han will definitely make more experiments from there on —, but then he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it now since his mission changed to see how much he can push Jongin’s buttons with this. “Anyway, thank you, my love.” He goes back to his character, batting his eyelashes to his roommate and his tone a little more high pitched, girlier while his fingers fidget with the lacy hem of the dress and Han thinks for a moment how pretty is the contract of it with his skin. “I still remember how you love me in white lace so I chose this dress especially for you. Did you like it?” And Han stands up again just long enough so he spins around once, showing the dress off a little bit more before sitting down again.

It isn’t as though it’s too surprising to Jongin that he’s a bit more excited by the sight of Han in a dress than he should be, he finds that at times he is more aroused by strange things he never expected to be after all. What is a bit strange is the context of he and Han simply joking around as usual when suddenly he’s struck by feelings of arousal and intrigue. “White lace is always my favorite, my little flower. It’s so pure. It makes me want to sweep you away and marry you,” he continues to playfully gush. However, it isn’t exactly above his notice to observe the delicate curve of his milky thighs when he spins around in the dress and a part of him wants to reach out and feel the silky skin beneath his fingers.

“Let’s have a naked day. Maybe when we both have our days off and we just go around naked the apartment all day long.” Han proposes half jokingly when Jongin agrees that clothes aren’t as necessary as people make them to be. To be honest, it doesn’t sound as much of a bad idea for Han, especially because one of the reasons that he likes wearing skirts and dresses so much is exactly the free feeling he gets from them, he absolutely thinks that the best clothes are the ones that you feel like you aren’t wearing anything at all, even if he’s also a little conscious that it also might result in him not being able to keep his hands off Jongin for too long if he walks naked around the house, at least, he wouldn’t be able to help himself from staring a little too much, the same way that he thinks that Jongin would feel the same. Well, Han isn’t really complaining anyway. Han just sighs, letting himself be pulled. “You’d better do something about it then.” He tries to sound a little threatening but then it’s sort of impossible when his breath hitches just from the brief contact of Jongin’s fangs on his sensitive skin, his hands going to the taller male’s shoulder to squeeze them.

A brow raises just slightly at the prospect of a proposed “naked day,” but in a way he knows he shouldn’t be that surprised given that they’ve both likely done stranger things. “I mean at some point we’ve both probably been naked all over the house anyway, so yeah, I’d be down,” he jokes, though it’s also partially serious. It doesn’t take much to actually convince Jongin into anything, though he is also well aware that sometimes his hormones can’t be helped if he’s given such free access to roam naked with someone else who happens to be so pretty and isn’t wearing any clothing either. But he figures that could be at least half the fun.

“You’ve got that right; it definitely isn’t dull,” he agreed, returning a few wayward bottles of liquor to the shelves. It was interesting to overhear conversations that people had at the bar, certainly. As someone who walked on eggshells during even the most mundane of conversations, it was surprising to see tipsy patrons spouting off possibly damning information without a care in the world about who heard it. He had not been in the city long, but he felt completely up to date on the local gossip already.

There was certainly something to be said for the way that the bar patrons carried themselves. They gave out too much information and did things that their sober selves would shudder at. Jongin preferred seeing people in their worst, or what they might claim to be their worst. But truly it was sometimes their most genuine ways. And he liked that, even if it lead to some unfortunate groping at times.

“What? Should I persuade you with a kiss then?” Han retorts with a laugh on his tone and he does kiss Jongin’s cheek once more before snuggling even more in Jongin’s warmth that is forever welcomed. “There you go.” Not that Han is a cold person — especially personality wise — but there are times when his hands are cold or when he’s cold like any other ordinary human being but then there is Jongin who is always warm in every situation that Han has ever been with him — or at least he’s always warmer than Han and that’s what matter for him in the end — and of course that the older male isn’t really complaining about it, since for him it’s totally the warmer the better and it’s always a little too amusing to press his cold feet to Jongin’s warm skin and see him squeak as a reaction. “True though. But it seems to be a movie worth of your mom.” Han teases anyway. He has never met Jongin’s mom personally of course but he has heard enough stories about her and he has watched some of her movies with Jongin even, she’s actually a great actress ( even if her movies are one of the chessiest Han has ever seen ) and she seems like a great person from his roommate’s tales about her — even if sometimes they leave this bitter taste on Han’s mouth when they remind him of his own mother — and he wouldn’t mind meeting her someday

“Yeah, it’s definitely her type of movie,” he can’t help but agree about his mom. He’s been used to seeing the sorts of romances that she’s played in and the sappy sorts of movies that surrounded his life and they were a strange sort of comfort. He knew well when something was suitable to what his mom would work on, and he liked knowing that. He adored her, naturally, but at times he knew that she could very well be a bit self-absorbed and overly dramatic. But it went along with the territory of being an actress, and he’d mostly long ago accepted her for what she did and who she was.

Yoongi had taken to keeping to himself in Mount Phoenix; only really leaving his apartment to go to school or work or the forest and avoiding making small talk whenever he could. He had not really mingled at length with anyone not affiliated with a gang in a while, and he just felt uneasy whenever conversations he did have turned personal. After all, he had a lot to hide. It was much easier to keep his secrets from people if he simply did not talk to them at all. So, he was a little hesitant when one of the co-workers he had not yet really spoken to addressed him while they were cleaning up.

Jongin was a terribly social creature, it was embedded into him and had been a part of his personality forever, so someone being a little bit stand-offish wasn’t enough to make him pause his efforts in attempting to be friends with virtually anyone who seemed halfway interesting. A quiet laugh escaped him at the other’s words about the job, “Yeah, the people can be pretty amusing when they’ve had too much. It’s definitely not a dull job,” he admitted. A part of him questioned what the other’s last job was, but he decided he’d wait and see what information was provided before he started prying.

Han is glad to be back home. Even if they haven’t done much during the ball ( besides fucking in a bathroom stall ), Han can still feel the usual fatigue post event and he just wants to go clean up, take another shower and go cuddle with Jongin until he falls asleep, so his first reflex as soon as they’re inside is to start taking off all the accessories and any piece of fabric that is more easily removed of his costume and putting them on top of their couch, Han has half a mind to make a mental note of not wearing make up ever again because now he feels too lazy to wash it up even if he knows that it’ll be a mess in the morning if he doesn’t. But even like that, he still pays attention to what Jongin is saying and can’t help but softly chuckles with his words, finally looking up to him while he’s taking his bracelets off. “Or you could wear nothing, you know, shirts are overrated. I, for instance, is going to do just that.” He half jokes even if he still sends a mildly concerned gaze to the state of Jongin’s shirt since he isn’t sure if it’s something that Jongin rented or if it’s really his.

Jongin snorts softly at Han’s words of just being naked, and offers a little shrug. “Clothes are so overrated,” he agrees with a hint of laughter in his voice. A grin comes to his lips at Han’s words in the next moment as the teeth brush against his wrist. “Maybe I want you to,” he half-jokes, taking the opportunity to slip an arm around Han’s waist and pull him closer, scraping the fangs along the juncture near his collarbone.

Youngjae nodded, “You have no idea.” He mumbled before laughing a little, “Yeah everyone here is white, and here are a lot of blondes, so I stand out a little.” he smiled, he hated it here. He knew in the bigger cities there were other ethnicities, although he was pretty sure not many Asians. Switzerland seemed to be a rather homogeneous country despite being in the middle of Europe which was always seen as quite diverse. When he was younger he hadn’t minded being that different, but all any teenager wants, is to fit in. And Youngjae did anything but that. 

He snorted softly at the other’s words of the country being so full of people unlike them. It was interesting, he knew that over the years that plenty of people had faced racial separation and othering, but it had never really directly effected him. Through his mom, he’d seen her get turned down for roles on occasion because she wasn’t the blonde star they desired, but mostly those situations happened before he was born; she’d built herself into an actress that transcended stereotyping.

Han takes his shoes and socks off before sitting on the couch, taking one of the so many blankets in there to wrap around himself before snuggling and relaxing in the comfort and warmth of the fabric, even more now that Jongin easily accepted his suggestion. It isn’t like Han isn’t tired, he can feel the exhaustion of a long and busy days on his bones but he still can’t make himself close his eyes and relax enough to let everything go, not when just that simply idea already makes his body tense all over again and it feels like an eternity before Jongin is back from his trip to the kitchen and the older male smiles as soon as he sees the taller male, especially when he’s carrying not only a glass of wine for himself — which Han can’t help but wrinkle his nose for a second because he will never really understand what is the thing with Jongin and alcoholic drinks, even knowing that his father is the god of wine, besides it’s a little after 3 in the morning so it might be a little too late ( or too soon? ) for drinking but then if he commented that out loud Jongin would probably just rolls his eyes and say that it’s never too late or soon to start drinking, something Han obviously disagrees — and a bottle of water for him even if Han hasn’t said anything. 

Jongin allows a soft laugh at Han’s concern for his liver, sitting down on the couch and snuggling close to Han as he offers the blanket. “Something’s gotta kill me, right? Might as well be something I enjoy,” he says, though there’s a clear bit of laughter in his voice. Quite simply, it’s become a habit to drink an excess amount of wine, something that he hardly even thinks about unless Han mentions it. A little smile plays on his lips as his roommate wraps his arms around him, allowing himself to relax into the other more. He always enjoys the moments when they can just quietly exist next to one another, there’s a certain level of comfort and familiarity in the way that they can simply be themselves.

Youngjae watched as the other came and sat next to him. “Yeah this is home.” he said with a smile. He didn’t really know if he liked it here, he’d never had left the country - his mom and he hadn’t had a lot of money growing up and his step dad was nice- just always working, so the best they’d had was a holiday to Bern or Zurich. So this was home, he didn’t exactly have any family elsewhere. His grandparents didn’t know he existed, as his mom had ran away to not tell them, and he knew nothing of his fathers family. So this was the only place he had roots. 

Jongin almost wanted  to extend his sympathies if the other boy was stuck in a place so dead. It wasn’t that it seemed like a bad place, on the contrary, it just seemed incredibly boring for a teenager to live in. But the other hadn’t really seemed as skeptical of the place as Jongin was, so he opted to not bother with extending his sympathy. “Youngjae, cool. You probably don’t fit in that well here, no offense. But is everyone here white?” he asked, though there was laughter in his tone.

Han can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips with Jongin’s joke, kissing on one of the so many red marks on his neck as some sort of silent apology even if Han isn’t exactly sorry about them. “I tricked you pretty well, didn’t I? Maybe you should be the one being wary about going home with me.” He teases one last time, before they move out to the bathroom. Han usually isn’t really the type to put so many marks in another people, preferring them to do that to him instead and he never usually feel any sense of anything when he sees them in another body that isn’t his own, not really thinking too much about them besides sometimes apologizing if he ended up making one in a place he shouldn’t, but not with Jongin, not this time and it’s a little weird and it should be another thing that should ring all of his alarms, but Han ends up just ignoring it like he ignores most of the things when it’s about his feelings when around Jongin or about him, deciding it must be just the kind of friendship they have.

Although Jongin is a rather affectionate person in general, with Han it always seems to increase. Of course, he blames it on the fact that Han doesn’t mind and is rather touchy as well, but that never explains why it always makes him so happy when the other is receptive to him. A part of him suspects that there’s something in their shared moments that is more than a simple friendship, but he doesn’t often pay much attention to those sorts of thoughts. A smile comes to his lips as Han kisses his skin. “Yeah, come on,” he agrees, squeezing the other’s hand for a moment before pulling him along toward the exit. He waves at a couple of people that he passes, but doesn’t bother to stop and talk to them.