#dudu talks

Sehun might have rolled his eyes when you told him it was a boyfriend duty to help set up the Christmas Tree.

He might have rolled his eyes for a second time when the stereo started playing Miracles in December, and you looked at him with a hint of mischief in your eyes. 

He smiles though.

Reluctantly -as in poorly attempting to hide his excitement-  Sehun waits for your instructions because he's no idea where each ornament is supposed to go, but he's confident that if he helped with the tree, it had to end up as the coolest Christmas Tree ever.

Seriously.

He's even going to invite the members over after their performance at Music Bank next week to show it off.

Thus, it has to be even prettier than Suho's.

He asks Vivi for suggestions, regarding if a specific ornament looks well where he just placed it -as if the dog would answer him.

Still, the image makes you smile and warm on the insides.

Did I mention he is shirtless while doing so?🤭🤤

You can't stop from pecking his cheeks each time you pass him by.

He's super tall hence he is assigned to the upper part of the tree.

And he offers to pick you up, carrying you bride style and spinning around the living room.

Your feet collide with a cup of tea and tosses it off the coffee table, breaking the ceramic and spilling Earl grey all over the carpet.

The two just laugh about it.

When The Star comes on, you both begin to dance.

And then you kiss.

But Vivi is barking, claiming attention, so you resume your work on the tree.

You're on his shoulder, slightly terrified at the loose grip of his hands around your calves as you place the star at the top.

It is a struggle to get you back on the floor; he has to kneel close to the sofa, fingers tugging at his hair in seek of not falling off him and to the floor. His face is all wrinkled up, as he complains it hurts but you demand him to get you safely back to earth and to be careful with Vivi roaming around.

He manages to land you safely.

But he goes bratty nonetheless, incensed by the lack of trust in his skills.

You smooth his frown with kisses, but he's stubborn, so the attitude lingers for a while.

Once his lil tantrum is over he's smiling proudly at the finished job, standing in front of it and ready to Instagram it.

And you whine yet again because the jerk hasn't followed you back.

The two have ceased the chalk talk. He has written, but you haven't written back. He's sent voice notes singing to different lyrics that you knew were about you, ―you merely played them. He's asked Sehun in your regard, about your heart and its feelings but you'd already forbidden the lanky man to give away any concrete answers. He's commissioned Chanyeol to talk things through, trying to extract a bit of further information from your part but in like manner, you ignored Chanyeol's calls. Moreover, Junmyeon's, Minseok's, Jongdae's and Jongin's; even Kyungsoo's. (You still couldn't believe how he managed to convince Soo into calling you on his behalf.)

London has been like usual, foggy, rainy and cold. Time and routine have been like usual as well, morning meetings and lattes, night TV shows and drinks with close friends; but it's you who hasn't been the same. Not since the last time you texted him back, answered his phone call and laid eyes on him; when instead of being in London you were in Seoul.

You and Baekhyun met each other before you began dating your [nowadays] ex-boyfriend. Baek was loud and lovely and so unbelievably handsome you couldn't help but find yourself closing your eyes at his proximity and pouting your lips, so they connected with his own. Both were tipsy, excited, and you never mentioned the exchange. Although it happened again, and back and yet, again.

Then rendezvous only came to a halt when it was time you left Seoul. Two months back in London and you'd already met a green-eyed, black-haired New Yorker whom you fell in love with and who later transitioned into becoming your boyfriend. Things with Baekhyun never got a label, and when you met Timothy, you fell head over heels for him. The relationship grew into three years, a shared apartment in Manhattan and an everlasting love claim. One that turned out to be untrue. Timmy had known about Baekhyun, and he despised the idea of you being in amicable terms with the pup, that in addition to some silly arguments over Byun and Timmy's ex-girlfriend, led to the imminent breakup.

Alright, let's be real here. Of course, Junmyeon has been checking non-stop every single weather channel out there to be all settled for the first snow. 

When he wakes up on a Sunday morning to his iPhone screen announcing there's a 96% chance of snow the man jumps the hell out of bed, grabs the closest notebook and writes down a to-do list to make sure the occasion is perfect.

He leaves you a note announcing he'll be back in case you wake up while he is gone and scurries over to the nearest market to buy marshmallows, cocoa, scented candles and a new blanket.

He might come across a furniture store and ponder for like twenty minutes or something if he should buy a new couch.

He does.

But it won't be delivered it on time, even if he pays the extra fee for urgent shipment.

Let's just say he gets kinda disappointed.

However, he brushes it off and goes to a mall to buy some Christmas lights and a new winter-ish carpet and whatnot. 

When he gets home like four hours later you're already awake and waiting for him in some cute festive pyjamas and stare at him all taken aback because he bought a new TV that is fucking huge and you have no idea how will it fit in your living room.

But whatever, you shrug it off and help him install it.

He changes back into sleepwear, and later you both make hot chocolate and candy popcorn and discuss for a huge amount of time whether you should re-watch A Christmas Prince before watching the second part of if you should just go ahead and watch it without further ado.

Your head rests on his shoulder as you snuggle underneath the recently bought blue blanket, as the movie plays in the 88' inch screen.

He smells like vanilla and it makes you smile.

Your eyelashes tickle at his nose when you bury your nose further into the crook of his neck and mischievously peck the skin.

Junmyeon LOVES it.

When dusk begins so does the fall from the snowflakes and all wrapped up by the covers and Junmyeo's limbs you turn your head to the picture window in your living room to witness the snowfall.

He is smiling so, so bright you can almost swear he is the sun.

The movie trapped in oblivion as you both stare at the scenery, entirely in love, chuckling at any of your bad jokes.

Junmyeon smiles to himself because even though the new couch wasn’t delivered it was indeed a perfect day.

In seek of vanishing from the world, escape from the bad decisions of your life and the upcoming “I do” you feared to speak out loud within four months, you scurried yourself away to a small island in the Mediterranean. Malta. 

He was there under similar reasons. Whereas, instead of escaping from a fiancé, he carved a break from his busy schedule and the public eye. He wore floral Gucci shirts, hid in a farmhouse in Gharb* and devoted himself to songwriting. You’ve seen him once, the day you arrived, as he strolled down the plaza while you enjoyed a gelato, sunglasses covering your stare. At every step he took, the musicians by the fountain, the flower boy beside his bicycle, the waiter at the café next door, all greeted him or waved at him. Ever so polite, he beamed at every single one of them.

When a wild wave pushed you into his arms two days later, you believed it was just a mere coincidence. Later, when you caught glances of the bright, floral shirts almost everywhere you went, you discovered it was a makeshift of destiny. The name was Byun Baekhyun, he was 26, and you ran into him countless times until the shy smiles you gifted each other turned into a cheerful “Good Morning,” when both ordered a caffè leggero at Noona’s coffee shop.

He was loud and silly, and so incredibly charming you couldn’t deny to his offer to join him for breakfast. A breakfast that transformed into brunches at the plaza, early boat rides, fishing excursions and several other excuses to spend time together. To your surprise, you found yourself constantly marvelling over the boy. It was breathtaking, how the sun bathed his skin when you were barefoot at the beach, how moonlight caressed his factions as he laughed at his own jokes when you dinned in the docks —and how stars reflected in his eyes every time he looked at you, a smile invariably playing on his lips.

Days with him became a habit, although the activities were never the same. He was your first thought in the mornings and your last at nights, even your dreams revolved around him. Baekhyun’s company made time fly but as lovable as the minutes shared with him was, the clock ticked quicker and hence, the date of the already fearful return, scarier. Although you’ve pondered over your choice and if it was right or wrong before, involuntary Byun Baekhyun pushed you to reconsider the ring on your finger. Because your fiancé, no matter how charismatic, had never ignited sparks when you touched. He had never, ever, made your heart flip under his gaze. And Baekhyun? He managed all that and more.

One week prior to your flight back home, Baekhyun invited you over to his farmhouse to go peach picking and share a picnic. A blue tablecloth was spread across the field so you could drink Italian soda, mimosas and eat the few snacks Baek has [attempted to] prepare.

Smiling up at him, you grab a peach from the basket and hand it to him, fingertips brushing slightly.

“I’m such an idiot,” he says, shaking his head but still wearing a smile. With a frown scattered across your forehead, you give him a questioning look. “I had it all planned out. But I’m an idiot and now you’re leaving in a couple days.”

“Planed out?” you ask quietly.

Baekhyun entwines your hands together, shakily. His eyes shut as he speaks, “To make you fall in love with me. I wanted you with me and I figured I…could make you love me before you left. Before we never saw each other again,” he confesses, chest rising and falling in agony.

“That’s why I’m stupid, you see?” his voice breaks.

A single tear rolls down your flushed cheeks as you pull away from the grasp of his hand, to carefully cup his face. He leans into the touch, sighing out loud. “You stupid, silly boy. I love you. I love you with all my heart.”

With lids still close, Baekhyun shakes his head again, regrettably, “You’ve only known me for a couple weeks—”

“So what?” you interject. “I’ve known him for years and never felt anything remotely close to what I feel for you, Baekhyun.”

“And yet he’s your—“

“I’ll break the engagement. I’m yours. If you want me, I-I’m yours.“

“What?” Baekhyun is baffled.

“I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Then be mine,” he whispers, clutching your hand away from his face to bring it up to his lips. He places a kiss on your knuckles. “I want a life with you. So the past days morph into the rest of my life, of our lives —together.”

"Then let’s do it,” you murmur,  forehead pressed to his. “I still have to go back and explain this out to him and my family and—”

He nods, “I’ll wait for you. Right here on this island and then I’ll take you to Seoul with me,“ he promises, smiling so brightly you swear you’re looking at the freaking sun. "Only i-if you’d like that, of course.”

“I would,” and then his lips crash against yours. Finally. Your mischievous hands are buried beneath his soft locks of brown hair, his mouth electric, every nerve ending in your body a live wire. Baekhyun lowers you onto the tablecloth, kissing patterns all over your face before he plants a final kiss onto your temple. Then, he holds you close, his breath misting in your ear as he murmurs how your future promises to be. Forever.

*Gharb is a village located at the westernmost point of the island of Gozo, Malta.

7. I’m a supernatural creature. My best friend/crush/partner isn’t.  It’s especially hard to hide what I am on All Hallow’s Eve.

Kim Minseok has settled his mind in one thing and one thing only: to spend Halloween night accompanied by you. Whether you'd spend the festivity carving pumpkins or dancing the night away at Byun Baekhyun's costume party, he didn't care at all. The one thing Minseok worried about, was to steal your heart for once and for all. No, he might be a kumiho* (also no, not every one of them is women, that's just human tales) but Minseok would never want your heart as another one of his meals. He aims to possess it on a spiritual level, for you to fall head over heels for his gummy smile as he's been in love with you ever since you crossed roads at Han River last Valentine's day. It was a premonition. To meet you on the date lovers celebrated themselves. Fate.

"Dumbass," Sehun has told him when Minseok filled him and Baekhyun with the plan. The maknae rolled his eyes and shook his head in disapproval. Minseok never quite understood why his comrade behaved in such a way... That until a few minutes ago, October 31st 8:00 pm, as he takes one last look in the mirror (to check everything is in order before he picks you up) to meet with a pair of small and orange ears at the top of his head.

"Right," he cursed at his own stupidity. How could he forget? He grasps no control over his appearance during Halloween Night. Shrugging it off —just because he hasn't seen you in months and there's no way in hell he will give up on the opportunity—, he grabs the nearest beanie and walks off.

As Byun Baekhyun was instructed in advanced, he leads you away from the party lights and drunken acquaintances towards the deep swath of forest outside his residence, just at the agreed time. He motions your linked hands in direction of a shadow, encouraging your feet to follow the path.

Lu Han, son of China, condemned his soul millenniums ago, at hands of blue devils for the loss of his one and only, pure, true love to a famine. He cursed his ancestors, trashed the temple and succumbed himself to evil expecting in return peace of mind. Rather, Han found himself further and further buried in sorrow. Has he given up on meeting with her again? In heaven?

For many, the answer was simple but fate twisted his sentence a bit more complicated. Ancestors did return her wandering on earth, at different periods of times but always out of his reach. The simple occurrence, however, invariably gifted him hope and a reason to keep up with his eternal living.

More lately, Han has traced her in Beijing, the present day. She was a chef, worked at the Four Seasons Hotels and lived alone in a complex apartment near Tiananmen. He waited patiently, looking at her from apart, as a guardian of her welfare until All Hallow's night arrived —the only when we were allowed to close the proximity, without her noticing. (He didn't want her pair of hazelnut eyes to look at him in fear, afraid of the creature he's become).

As soon as she's been caught in Dreamland, Han walked in, as silent as a shadow. He neared her deep asleep figure from the corner of the bedroom and as distantly as possible, he watched you. Marvelling over the way her chest slowly, peacefully, rose and fell as she breathes. It's something so simple, so common, but for him, it was an absolute wonder. To see her breathe again. After he hugged her dead body till dawn all those centuries ago.

Sehun has to press his lips together, very hard —hands clasped together near his legs—, so he can muffle his tongue to roll over a holy shit in front of an entire church filled with each of your closest friends and family.

He’s been anticipating this moment since he bent onto one knee at the balcony of The Ritz, during Paris Fashion Week, when he asked you to marry him. He’d spent endless nights fantasizing about the moments leading up to the beginning of your shared forever. Lying awake at night, the patterns on his ceiling would morph into the lace on your dress, telling himself to remain calm, steady and overall, tearless. When the moon hid from the sun, restless Sehun recited a mantra the entire morning: “You’re Oh Sehun, you’re ready for this and you’re certainly not going to cry when you see her”.

Nothing prepared him for what the privilege of you ascending the all too long aisle, to truly become his and only his, would do to him. If he’d only feel the warmth within your touch, if he had only seen your smile when you blushed, if only those goddamn daydreams would’ve shown him how you curled your lips as you concentrated to not trip as you walk down the aisle, Sehun would’ve known the reason he was living for all along. Then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have sniffled, lips settling into a permanent smile as his gaze locks with yours, hoping that the tears splashing against his eyelashes would become invisible. 

Sehun, however, doesn’t care much that Luhan is already snorting in the back of his throat beside him. When he is near you, nothing else matters. His surroundings disappear, only the sweet ballad performed by Kyungsoo and Baekhyun remains, accompanying your walk. You are radiant, a jumble of nerves and wandering eyes but everything Sehun is in love with; your lips that are a cursive line, your touch that burns into his skin, your fragile heart that makes him stronger.

When your hand is placed firmly into his, Sehun swears to surrender to himself for who you are, he’s called for you everywhere and he’s found you to keep you by his side, forever. Your eyes brighten up close as you gaze at him with all the adoration in the world. He hopes you can read around his irises that he doesn’t love you more than anything in the world, you are his world.

“I never imagined myself in a wedding dress,” you murmur, giggling softly and under your breath. God, how much loves you.

You scurry around the room, lighting vanilla scented candles in a pursuit to portray the room as inviting. The knock comes at the door, and you blow out the match, bolting over to the bed, picking up a book, and fanning out the deep red, strapless, practically backless dress. Why yes, Sehun, this is how you always look when you read.

“Come in,” you offer, barely loud enough to be heard. When Sehun walks in, you lift your head delicately, playing innocent, and catching the curiosity around his irises as he surveys the dimly lit room.  Finally, he focuses on you, Adam’s apple bubbling up at the time his gaze travels up your exposed leg.  You close the book, standing to greet him, “There you are.”

“I wanted to tell you that you look fantastic tonight.” 

But you already knew that. He’s said it when he stopped chewing the moment you entered the dining hall. He’s whispered it when he glared at Chanyeol, who’d just dropped his fork with his eyes glued to the slit of your dress, leading nearly all the way up your thigh. He’s screamed it when you found his gaze on you as demurely you paraded to your seat, settling in next to Jongdae.

He seems stunned! Jongdae had squealed. Of all of the boys, Kim Jongdae was the chosen one to hear your confession. You’d told him you wanted to get Sehun’s attention. There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted to be his. If that was ever going to happen, you couldn’t just sit back and wait. After everything he’d done to get you, Sehun was still to say the words, ask the question. Jongdae advised the dress, the flirt and the poorly lit bedroom to force him out of his comfort zone. You obeyed, thinking of a soldier going to war, different armour but same idea. Tonight you’re taking down a man.

“Like it?” you ask, leaving out the hope that, with any luck, this dress would be on the floor pretty soon.

“Love it.”

Fingers lace through his, “Come, sit with me. I haven’t seen you much lately.”

“Sorry about that,” he sighs. “Things have been a bit tense since the tour started, and you know how the company is. We’ve been signed to lots of dramas and variety shows.”

You’re side by side, sitting on the edge of the bed, and you settle close to him, “It’s okay. I understand.” 

He smiles, soft and cautious, “I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but when I can’t see you… it drives me crazy.” 

The pout you give him is little, but you’re certain is a killer.

“I know.” 

Sehun pauses, his face hard to read. Romantic moments ain’t your forte, so you aren’t completely sure on how to manufacture it, how to move things forward without being pushy.

“This is a bit silly, but I’m wearing a new perfume today. Is it too strong?” you ask, tilting your neck so he can lean in and breathe the scent. His nose approaches, brushing against the soft patch of skin.

“It’s lovely, babe,” he murmurs into the curve of your shoulder blades. A kiss is placed on the spot, making you swallow in an attempt to focus. It’s hard, harder than levelling your breathing back to normal, “I’m glad you like it. I’ve really missed you, S.”

His hand scurries around your back, causing you to bring your face down, observing his long fingers sensing the silk of the dress. A thumb moves your face back upward and there he is, eyes looking into yours, lips millimetres apart.

“How much have you missed me?” he breathes. His warm stare, combined with his low voice, do funny things to your heartbeat.

“So much,” you answer. “So, so much.” The confession is sweeter than intended, innocent even. The mischievous plan trapped in oblivion, as you shyly, lean closer, aching to be kissed. Sehun, however, feels confident, pulling you forward with his right hand and stinging the other through your hair. You’re positive your body melts into the kiss, his tongue playful and tempting, making you remember the objective, the intentions behind the candles. Suddenly, you’re nervous again. Adrenaline kicks in, palms sliding down Sehun’s arms, guiding his fingers to the zipper on the back of your dress, hoping that would be a sufficient hint.

Doubtful, his touch lingers there for a moment, getting you a little bit stress out and seconds away from just asking him to unzip the fucking thing when he busts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, horrified, really.

“If you want to get me naked, you’ll have to convince me it’ll be worth my time,” Sehun bents over, hitting his knee as he chuckles.

“Excuse me?”

“Not like this,” he says. There’s no mock in his words, he’s smiling tenderly, with his fingers playing patterns on yours, clearly looking for a way to express himself correctly. Although you’re mortified, you get it. Sehun has told you all about those girls throwing himself at him, seducing him, doing the impossible to get him tangled in their sheets. Why in the world did you think you could pull that off? Sehun may not know everything about you, but at the very least he knew your personality—and this? It wasn’t you. You look down at the ridiculous dress. It is way too much. Your hair is too perfect, your makeup too heavy. He knew the hidden intentions from the second he walked through the doorway.

 “Listen to me,” Sehun reclaims your attention. Again, his voice is sweet and non-judgemental; and the way he looks at you…it makes your heart skip a beat. “I love you,” He kisses you hard on the forehead. “The enough to make your soul mine before your body. Please let me do it.”