#fcxjames

kiss: our characters sharing a kiss, whether innocent or passionate.

Standing side by side, so close together they had been during the moment, his hand clutching on to the other’s right arm in practice of what they had learned, it wasn’t too surprising that they had ended up where they had.

The goal had been to use the opponent’s own centrifugal movement against them, taking them down by the arm and flipping them in one fluid motion face down to the floor. For a while, neither of them had managed to do just that. A simple basic technique of self defense and yet neither of them had managed the strength or the skill to complete the rotation needed for the flip.

Breathing in a somewhat heavy rasp while letting himself fall over to the matted gym floor, his gi and blindfold soaked in the sweat of their training, Xiumin could barely manage a sentence.

“Why… is this… so difficult?” He panted in between breaths, the back of his hand coming to rest onto his matted forehead, his reddish brown hair sticking closely to his ivory skin. “When Professor… Kamenashi did it… it had seemed so easy…”

And in essence, it was easy. All one needed was some good enough leverage, a durable hold on the arm and a proper follow through to complete the rotation. In descriptive words, it felt so simple that even a child younger than he could do it.

“Maybe…” His partner, Junmyeon, panted beside him, the strain of their training affecting him greatly as well. He could hear the rise and fall of the other’s chest, his beating heart pumping just as loudly as his own. “Maybe… we’re just not doing it right?”

“And what do you think we’re doing wrong, Sherlock?” He asked of the man of London with the detective eye, once his breathing had gone down enough, whilst he turned his head so that the other could know that he held his complete attention.

“Well…” His partner began, seemingly unperturbed by the nickname he had just given him. Though he could just as well be but his senses were too frayed from the sensory information all over the gym to notice. Despite that, Xiumin had thought he had felt something akin to a heat source coming from the other’s cheeks.

“Maybe instead of doing the complete sparring like everyone else is… We should… just stand next to each other and try it like that…”

Mulling the option over in his head, pondering why they hadn’t thought of it before they had exhausted themselves into this stupor, he shrugged at Sherlock in reply before shifting himself over to stand. “Well, do you want to do the honors first then or do you want me to?”

“… Either or sounds fine.”

That was the beginning of how they had ended up together, on the floor, Xiumin’s left hand barely clutching onto the other male’s right arm, their lips touching closely against each other.

Aside from one’s hands and feet, it was a scientific fact that the lips were one of the most highly sensitive parts of the body. Certain studies suggest that due to the high concentration of receptor cells within a person’s lips, the act of kissing became more intoxicating as the practice continued.

Two highly sensitive mutants with highly sensitive lips. A person didn’t need to be a scientist to know where this was going.

Everything about him grew hot with embarrassment at their predicament, his cheeks flushed whilst their lips continued to touch. Xiumin knew he should try to apologize and get himself off from on top of the other. Tell him that this was all just some big accident which was caused in some small way by the tug that Sherlock pulled on his other arm. But they were both too stunned to properly move.

Xiumin didn’t know how long they had stayed still like that, their lips ghosting over each other. His mind was already slowly carving the image of it into his memory, relaying the enhanced sensation of softness towards him. The entire event felt too surreal for him to take in properly.

His hands slowly moving on the other’s arms, his lips softly pressing back, his entire body just seemed to react of its own free will against his better judgment. It seemed the other was just as lost as he was if the reply of Junmyeon kissing back was any indication./

At the end of it all, they were both separated forcefully from each other by Professor Kamenashi who seemed both furious and perhaps just a tinge embarrassed by the display. Reprimanded and scolded, they were never allowed to become sparring partners again in class.

(!* xavier knows a lot of things.  that's probably the understatement of the century but chanyeol sighs as he jumps up, grabs at a tree limb and half walks up the side before landing on his feet with clear eyes and a whistle.  it's probably more strange to find him walking like a normal person; everywhere he goes he's climbing or jumping just because he likes to, because it's good training --.  but he doesn't even think about it, because this is what's normal for him; instead he thinks about james arlington and how xavier is worried about the boy and his sensitivities, about what happened a few weeks ago.  ' can you check on him', he asks, and chanyeol says, ' yeah, sure !' with a smile on.  he knows what james looks like, but he doesn't know who james is.  today he's going to find out, and his eyes shine when he sees the younger man a bit ahead -- )

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since he had first arrived, walking across that bustling courtyard of students milling about, playing their games and having fun in the bright sunlight that day had given. It had been with a resigned purpose that he had walked upon those cobble stones, his feet stepping steadily and his luggage heavy with his belongings, towards the door that marked a destiny he had never thought possible.

Kim Minseok was a mutant.

The days he had thought he had been a normal, highly alert, gifted, visionless child were dashed with that simple word; another label to place upon the many he had been tacked with. It would not be hope that would greet him when a woman opens that door, letting him in, touring him around the facilities that made the Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters a haven for their kind.

It would be fear and uncertainty at a life he would have to be careful with lest it damn him from the only hope he ever dreamt.

Walking along those same cobble stone steps, tapping his walking stick every now and again, feeding him vision of a world he wasn’t sure of being a part of, with his saxophone strapped leisurely across his chest, he still held the same sentiment as before.

His purpose was to learn, understand and decipher his ability as best as he could with the time frame he had given himself, a year. Associating with the others was not paramount to his future success.

Though, he had made some exceptions here and there.

As he settled himself upon the edge of the fountain, sitting poised and relaxed, with the vibrations of the spurting water showing him the world he was currently a part of, he left his dreams and virtues in indecision. Placing his lips onto the dark mouthpiece, he blew a soft bluesy tone, fingering the golden body of the instrument he would never see, before beginning his own form of meditation.

jinri was used to change, to moving and the familiar ache that it always instigated; but this time, she had had something to look forward to!  yes, it was with genuine hope and anticipation she had packed her bags for kingston, for this was the very stuff of the books and stories she held dear—a grand reunion of friends, good friends, that lay only weeks, days, minutes, seconds from her grasp.

(there had been something about james arlington, that despite their short time together, compelled jinri to call him a good, great, grand friend.  maybe it was the fact that she could remember his face clearly amongst the others, or because the very curve of his mouth when pronouncing the word ‘mutants’ was an image she had yet to forget)

 the stars had drawn it up themselves, she told herself, and the twinkling spectres in the sky never did so without even the slightest sense of grandeur.  excited, shaking fingers do up her tie and she smiles at her mirror.  smoothing down her black hair, the teen practices a few english sentences, flicking the inflections of mandarin off her tongue before heading out.  it was thirty minute commute—one that jinri had had to talk her father into the gist of—but she thought it was worth it.  it was going to be worth it.

she couldn’t have been more wrong.

the girl practically keeps her eyes peeled for the sight of james, ready to surprise him with her arrival, but the day ends without anything she can name success.  jinri doesn’t let this deter her though; schools were big, faces changed, the boy could’ve moved.  m  yet they call his name day after day on roll call, and no voice answers; betwixt confusion and worry, jinri feels something dark and damp settle in her chest.

where was he?  was he okay? 

could he be avoiding her?

maybe, just maybe.  the male wouldn’t be the first.  disappointment sits on her shoulders with a flurry of other dim feelings, slowly distinguishing any hopes she had in the semester.  or so she had thought, until she hears what she had been waiting for—a response to despondent, “james arlington.”