pairing: xiaojun x readerΒ
genre: self indulgent pool party make-outΒ ! blurb full of love for dejun & sentiments from my heartΒ β¨ read it i dare u !!!
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Dejun always reminds you who you are.
On nights when your head is high in the sky; with clouds in your eyes and moonlight in your bloodstream. He grounds your body onto earthly soils, heels that have never known another planet although sometimes they wish they did. On nights a lot like this, when heβs sitting across from you with a stupidly bright Polo shirt and vodka stained lips. Thereβs a pool between you like a bed of sapphires; his reflection is caught in the middle and he waves at you. You wave back.
βYouβre happy you came right?β
Heβs inquisitive when heβs nervous, you know that much. You have half the mind to tell him otherwiseβ¦ but heβs wearing that sideways smile. Heβs tugging at his board shorts. Heβs sun kissed, and with those pinkish lips, you think he mightβve kissed the sun. You canβt tell him anything he doesnβt want to hear.
Β βIβm happy where you are.β
Itβs not a lie, so it comes out smoothly. But your eyes arenβt quite right. They never are, and Dejun knows that much. He knows you donβt imagine Friday nights this way. He knows their eyes make you uncomfortable. You know thatβs exactly why heβs asked you here. Dejun jumps into the pool and water ricochets in circular waves; it feels like the fruit of his love.Β
He swims up the lip of the pool and you tip-toe in his direction. If Dejun is magnetic, then you are like fine iron. You are stronger than you think you are, and you both know that much. When Dejunβs wet hands reach out to grasp at your t-shirt, water pools at your stomach, but in the light it looks more like paint. That makes more sense. Dejun is dripping in paint. You kiss colour against his lips and it reminds you who you are.
Β You, like Dejun, are a child of the sun (although at times you may forget it). You are not cold to the touch, in fact, you are hot and you burn under his fingertips. You may feel obsolete, the way you trace your name in water and watch it fade awayβbut you are not that way. Instead, Dejun watches as your lips singe your name into his skin and he giggles warmly into your neck. You donβt like to sit idly, you like to run your fingers through his hair and scratch at his forearms; itβs the way youβve been always been, jumping in headfirst and feeling everything, always a happy child when no one was looking. You donβt like hesitation, you like Dejunβs loud love. When he blows raspberries into your belly even when partygoers are looking. When he bites your finger that plays with his swollen lips. You donβt like to sulk in the shadows, you like to feel the cool rush of salty water against your shoulder blades, like to taste it even, feel it up your nose; itβs dizzying but itβs a headrushβthatβs what you love. Thatβs what you love. Itβs the feeling of you. The feeling of him. The feeling of you and himβ¦ and the water and the moon and the night and the dayβ¦ and you forget the rest because his lips are soft and he tastes like sour patch kids.
Β βI love you.β He mumbles against your lips, or maybe your nose; you know that if he wasnβt so out of breath, heβd scream it.
You know who you are and Dejun helps remind you. Loving him makes you the best youβve ever been; takes those clouds in your eyes, makes them hearts. You are not like those intrepid waters that bust through barriers and mutilate, you are the one that gives reason to each drop of rain. He is the one that gathers those raindrops on his tongue. You and Dejun are twin flames. Dejun is unstoppable, and he looks at you with the same fire that he looks at his childhood self with. That was the boy who was traumatized by criticisms that hadnβt yet been spoken. You are kissing Dejun in his pool. Would those words stop you?
Β Youβre more like Dejun than you think.
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