#kgjitae

Memories

🌠- A time they wished upon a falling star.

“This is stupid.”

“Just do it, Kreo.”

“No, this is seriously stupid.”

His date pouted at him, her hands on her hips, posture terrible as she leaned forward to speak at him as if he were a baby.  “If you don’t wish upon the star, you won’t be getting to see the galaxy tonight.”

An eyebrow arched as he thought of her threat.  “You’re going to deny me sex because I don’t want to wish upon a stupid star that’s probably been dead for like 4000 years?  Soohyun.  This date is over.  I cannot believe you.  I don’t even like you that much.  I thought maybe we could find a middle ground to meet upon, but you’re dumb.  You’re dumb and I’m too smart for this shit.”

Sputtering noises were all he heard as he turned to walk away.  All in all, it was another blind date set up that had ended badly.  Perhaps it was all Kreo’s fau— “No fucking way.” He stopped his own mind from placing the blame solely on himself as he thought about the kinds of girls his friends had been setting him up with.  Airheads, bimbos and high school drop outs that still thought it was cute to sing ‘Gwiyomi’ at him after having known each other for two hours.

[ Prompt ]

jisoo pops a candy into his mouth, rolling it around his tongue as he shrugs. it’s not actually that much - quite a big deal to be carrying around in cash, but again. not that much. it’s all going to rent, and even so he’s still going to be short of funds at the end of the month. 

“honestly? i do a lot of surveys.” 

this isn’t a lie - jisoo does do a lot of surveys, though the bulk of his money is made through less… legal means. “there’s a lot of universities that are affiliated with the library, so when they’re looking for study subjects i just… sign up. easy money.” 

All the Little Things Meme

☕ - Tea or Coffee?  How do they take theirs?

Kreo prefers coffee over tea.  However, he’ll load his coffee down with any and all the creamer available.  It’s a bonus if it’s flavored to boot.  And if it’s caramel, he’ll kiss you.

🍴- Favorite meal

His favorite meal is not one from Korea.  Kreo loves scotch eggs and he even learned how to perfect them himself so that he’ll never be without them. 

🎩 - Usual outfit

X [[ just kidding...  x

🏠 - What does their living space look like?

Kreo has his own workshop at home.  Kind of like this.  

He’s not exactly the neatest kid on the block either.  He has candy wrappers everywhere.  He eats nonstop while he tinkers and then he works out afterwards, but his apartment isn’t big enough for him to have anything aside from his workshop, so he just uses the gym facilities anywhere and everywhere he can. 

His bedroom is small and his bed takes up most of the space, so there’s not much in there.  Aside from his workshop, he’s very minimalist.

💢 - Something other’s do that gets on their nerves 

it’s been only a few days since he had another one of these unexpected meetings in the hallways of the agency, but that one went a whole lot differently than when jun’s eyes fall upon jitae. the veil of the knight, of gawain, drops off his shoulders so quickly one might think the tall male has been dying to lose it in the middle of his coworkers and let them wonder about who the real him was for a long time now.

unlike the previous reappearance of a friend, this time jun’s body moves as if there is no time to lose. it’s only a few long strides that have him cross the distance, approaching jitae from the side. “babe!” is already being flung through the air in happy tones and his arms are reaching for the other male before he has even fully reached.

once he does, they wrap around, tightly embracing the short male he has reached and literally lifting jitae off the ground just to swirl him around in a few circles, grin bright, laughter free and contentment oozing out of every inch of him. when he puts jitae back down, he locks gazes with the younger male instantly, hands moving on their own accord as he reaches one out to ruffle the younger male’s hair - the few remaining millimeters of it, that is.

laughing and chuckling at the same time, the next thing he does is take hold of jitae’s hand and the entire world be damned whether anyone sees him being so fondly affectionate with the younger male. her expression doesn’t change as she gives her friend a once-over with her eyes, then closes the distance once more to pull jitae into another one of those hugs.

only then does she seem to remember that perhaps jitae might feel awkward with all such attention and that there are other people capable of seeing them (although not that many are currently out in the hallway they’re in). letting go again, she shows enough shame by flushing slightly, but then grinning widely once more right over it.

“i missed you! are you back for real or just passing through? how are you!?” the words are spoken quickly, as if the next is trying to chase the previous out quicker just to be able to get out themselves. her eyes sparkle with the happiness she feels for seeing jitae. “i thought you would have grown your hair out by now.” and the world has not seen the last of its miracles, a fact which is once more proven when she outright pouts after that line.

sudden in appearance, certain events in life destroy what you have always known, leaving a poorly salvaged wasteland to navigate. his father’s case took priority over everything and everyone, and he’ll never admit being controlled by his own grief. he has always swallowed his own anger, creating the knot at the back of his throat. 

there are moments that reek of foreign stability, only unrecognizable when one’s life shifts. he returns, but he’s not seeking comfort in surroundings that now feel like they don’t belong to him. no text messages were ever sent to jitae, avoiding the apartment for weeks. he almost uses the wrong key, struggling with the knob before he remembers to shove his shoulder up against the door so it creaks open. what a shitty place. 

it hasn’t change, but he still feels like an intruder, returning to the lights shut off, faucet dripping in the kitchen. the sound echoes in silence, and yifan throws his coat across the arm chair. usually he’d hang it up, but now all of his routines feel wrong and fragmented. so he leaves it, and his keys on the counter.

ft  @kgjitae​

yongguk panics.

for he’s always been awful at things like this, unknowing of what to do whenever he’s surrounded by people who are crying, mourning, waiting. there are people who need his help, except he’s not quite sure what he can do anymore when it’s completely out of his hands and so it leaves him in a daze that reminds him he’s irrevocably human. even so, even through the ash and ruins, and everything that’s broken he can’t help but think —

(whereareyouwhereareyouwhereareyou)

he stumbles over something, maybe a crack on the ground but regains his balance. everything feels stuffy and hot, like he’s looking at the world from a third perspective. at the back of his mind he knows he should get it together, should start writing reports even if it’s been a while after the attacks. he can’t bring himself to, not yet.

finally, yongguk enters a room and sees him. 

he’s peaceful, calm, getting things quietly and doing whatever he’s supposed to do, unlike yongguk. but there’s something that makes it feels as though it’s been months when it’s been days, feels like there’s miles between them when there’s only metres that he can cross right now. and maybe it’s the thick emotion of it all, of how scared he was, that when yongguk makes eye contact with jitae, he chokes back a noise.

Yifan has the bedroom with the eerily large window that faces the street. When he first moved in, Jitae asked him which room he preferred. He said no preference of course, but made the decision knowing Jitae wouldn’t uproot himself to move to the empty room. He enjoys the snapshot of routine life occurring right in front of him. Sometimes, he tries to paint it, and he’s up until light has faded. His glasses perch crookedly on his nose and paint is smeared under his left eye.

There are still faint fingerprints on his neck where he’d gone to scratch an itch with pigment on his hand. He had abandoned the stool to sit on the floor with his canvas propped up against the wall. The old t-shirt he’s wearing dwarfs his large frame, stained and torn in places. He’s just putting finishing touches on the painting when he hears his door creak open. The hinges have needed oil for months. Yifan likes to know if anyone is trying to come in, so he never tries to fix it.

Silence invades the room.

“I know you’re trying to sneak in.” He doesn’t turn, but hears feet shuffling in the hallway. “You do it at least once a week, Jitae.”

“Yeah--” they confess, throwing open the door without hesitation, all meekness gone from posture. “You’re usually asleep though.”

“Maybe I didn’t feel like having you drool on me tonight.”

Now Jitae is embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck before he adopts that famous bravado Yifan is used to, hopping on his bed and flipping through one of the books on his night stand.

“You like it.”

“No I don’t,” he deadpans, finally leaning back on both hands to focus on Jitae. “You know, it’s rude to go through people’s things-- in case you forgot.”

Jitae stares at him from over the top of the book.

“You know what you do like--” Yifan is halfway on the bed, taking the book from Jitae’s hands just in time to see that mischievous glint in their eye. “You like getting your butt touched.”

Yifan takes his sweet time setting down the novel before he starts to roughly shove Jitae off his bed. The other quickly protests with a tight grip around his waist, suckering to him. Yifan feels like he’s peeling off glue with his hands shoved between jitae and himself.

“And you like sleeping in people’s beds because you can’t stand the idea of being alone for one second.”

Jitae grows stiff, instantly loosening grip. Yifan mentally berates himself for being so blunt.

“I didn’t--” he starts, unsure how to end the sentence. ‘I was joking’ sounds worse than anything else. Jitae is already slipping away before Yifan pulls them back. It develops into wrestling at some point, Yifan locking Jitae’s arms behind their back as the smaller boy lazily kicks socked-feet back into his calves.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, aggression fueling the apology when Jitae tries to squirm out of the hold.

“This,” Jitae emphasizes, kicking Yifan’s knee because he’s rendered immobile from the waist up. “Is how you say sorry? You either have some conflict resolution issues, or you have a really weird way of revealing your kinks.”

Yifan lets go, and Jitae almost rolls completely off the bed.

“Dumbass,” he mutters.

“Asshole,” Jitae shoots back.

Yifan expects Jitae to leave after that. He has his glasses abandoned on the bed side table, eyes closed. The bed sinks under Jitae’s shifting weight, and he opens his eyes to see his roommate facing him. The distance between the two boys is minimal, considering Yifan’s bed is only a full.

“What nightmare fuel,” he comments, closing his eyes again.

Jitae blows air into his face and he sits up on one elbow.

“I will seriously put you in a sleeper hold, Jitae.”

“Again with the kinks.”

Yifan shifts as if he might and Jitae ducks under the covers, “All right! All right. I’m done.”

They remain turtled under his comforter like a strange looking lump. Yifan lifts one hand before smacking a random place. Jitae reveals his head, yelling out in pain.

“You ass,” Jitae sucks a sharp breath between his teeth, grumbling.

“Yes, I believe that’s what I smacked.”

Jitae exhales through his nose, but Yifan still hears them chuckled. They cover it with a cough.

“If you’re sick, get out of my room.”

Jitae clears his throat immediately, shaking his head. Yifan tries not to smile.  It’s gone as soon as Jitae lifts a photograph in front of his face. It had been tucked under the lamp on the nightstand.

“Who’s this?”

The faintest cheshire smile sits on Jitae’s lips until Yifan ends the amusement with,  “My sister.”

“Sister… you have a sister?” Jitae expressions shift as he mentally processes this information, mouthing the word ‘sister’ over and over again as if he can’t comprehend the idea of Yifan with a family. Yifan had started to nod off before Jitae asks at random. “Will I ever meet her?”

They never talked about their families with each other. There’s familiarity between them, but so much that they had kept to themselves at the same time. Their lives as agents truly lived in different worlds from a real identity. Yifan thinks about it long enough that Jitae starts to grow restless.

“Maybe,” he finally speaks up. “We are roommates, so I guess that’s a good enough explanation. She’s really intuitive, and she’ll probably ask you about yourself. But…”

Yifan’s frown deepens as he mulls over another issue.

“Butttt…” Jitae quietly prompts him, cover pulled up over their nose so they sound muffled.

“She’s almost completely deaf.” Yifan rubs his eyes, yawning. “She’ll try to read your lips when you talk, so make sure you face her.”

Jitae is quiet after this, and Yifan’s eyes are closed when he feels them prod his shoulder. He blinks slowly, noticing Jitae had sat all the way up.

“Can you teach me?”

His brow furrows.

“Teach you what?”

Yifan follows the eyes that drop to his hands and then back up. Catching on, he quickly shakes his head. “You dont’ have to learn--”

“I want to.” There’s a flare of determination in Jitae’s eye. If it was one thing the boy is, it’s genuine. There’s a softer expression on Yifan’s face before he slowly walks through the first few hand signs. Jitae watches intently, attempting, albeit sloppily, to copy Yifan.

“That’s how you say hello.” He walks through it again, reaching forward to correct Jitae’s finger placement before he’s confident enough to show them the second phase. “That’s how you tell her your name.”

Jitae searches for Yifan’s approving gaze the entire time he mimics the hand movements, eyes lighting up when he finally nods. He feels the covers being ripped off him when he tries to go to sleep again, a narrow-eyed sleepy gaze focusing on Jitae above him.

“What now…”

Jitae starts whispering, as if Yifan had been sleeping.

“How do you say ‘goodnight’?”

Yifan touches his nose and then covers his eyes. Jitae huffs impatiently, taking it as a sign of Yifan refusing to do it.

“No, you idiot...” Yifan touches his palm over Jitae’s nose to demonstrate. “Good.” He lifts his arms and covers Jitae’s eyes with both of his hands. “Night.”

Jitae’s grips Yifan’s wrists, pulling them away so he can practice, mimicking the movement much slower. Jitae covers Yifan’s eyes twice.

“Night, night.”

Jitae looks so triumphant over the modified phrase. Yifan simply exhales through his nose, unable to wipe the slightest smile from his face.

“That’s not how sign language works.”

He earns a shake of the head in response, watching Jitae complete the movement perfectly. He signs back only after Jitae slaps his arm.

Goodnight.

At some point, they both fall asleep. Jitae manages to stick to Yifan’s side, tangled up with him and sheets thrown off their body while a wet spot of drool stains his shoulder.

Like clockwork.

---

Yifan disappears after the events of the bombing.

Jitae shuffles into an empty room. A half-finished painting sits on Yifan’s easel, untouched ever since they had that fight. The bed is still perfectly made when he throws back the covers and crawls in. His eyes are trained on an empty spot of the ceiling. He touches his nose just barely, covering his eyes after. The palms of his hands are wet from the beginning of tears.

He whispers to no one.

🎩 - Usual outfit

Yifan actually cares very little about fashion. His sister is really invested in it since she sews and designs clothes for fun, so he only dresses, as the kids say, ‘hip’ when she gets a hold of his wardrobe. 

if yifan could get away with hoodies and jeans every day of his life, that’s what he’d do. He likes to wear oversized jackets and sweaters, and since his uniform at his cover job doesn’t really matter that much, he’s usually wearing something like this

as opposed to what he wears when one of his more fashionable friends dresses him, like this

then you have the kingsman notable #looks. Yifan prefers black suits, or very dark grey. No colored ties.

🏨 - Sleeping position

yifan has a full but is used to sleeping on a very narrow bed from childhood, so he always sleeps on one side instead of the middle. Usually sleeps facing one side, wakes up with imprint of the pillow case or sheets on his face. Doesn’t move in his sleep, but talks. Or more like grumbles. You can have a very unclear conversation with him while he’s asleep. He won’t remember anything about it.

🔎 - Random detail about them

Yifan has a tattoo of a gingko tree branch up his back and over his left shoulder blade. this covers a tattoo he accidentally got when he was black out drunk, that tattoo being of a fellow agent’s name (notorious bbh). That mission was iconic.

🎤 - Can they sing?

Sober Yifan says no but sings in the shower, no doubt jitae has heard this on numerous occasions. His voice actually isn’t that bad.