#precinctboy

@nsfwcop

“if anything should happen to me, i want you to know i’ve loved you.”

Conflicting emotions made her physical reaction to those words incredibly uncomfortable. Her cheeks flared with the heat of fresh, sudden rushing blood. The implication of something awful happening to him had the hairs on the back of her neck and on her arms standing on end, chills running over her like a thousand ants marching across her skin. Her stomach lurched. There was a warm feeling, but it was almost immediately extinguished by an acute awareness of the cold, as if it was going right through her.

Her eyes welled with tears after that. They’d already found Baekhyun dead, and Sohee’s busted cell phone with no sign yet of Sohee herself. Not to mention the shallow grave, and all the absolutely terrifying sounds that had been echoing off the walls of the mines. There was no doubt in either of their minds that they were not alone on the mountain, and whoever (or whatever--Sunmi was not at all convinced those sounds were human) was here with them was dangerous. 

They had found the elevator, currently unpowered, and he had quickly spotted the power switch on a higher platform to the right. Though it was within sight of the elevator, and just a climb up and down a ladder to get there and back, he wanted her to stay next to the elevator for a quick escape if anyone--or anything--should come out of the woodwork when the power flipped on. He was adamant that he wanted her to get out, even if it meant leaving him behind. They had been going back and forth for minutes now. Her hand was still intertwined with his, and she squeezed it tightly as she bent her arm at the elbow, pulling him hard and quick enough to make him come forward.

Sunmi tugged him down and lifted onto her tiptoes to meet him halfway. Her stomach turned again when her lips brushed his. The kiss was chaste and short, but it didn’t stop her from feeling guilty for betraying Yoobin, while simultaneously being worried about regretting not kissing him for real. The potential to convince him not to go by himself drowned all that out, and her hand left his to grasp a fistful of his hair at the back of his head. She kissed him deeply, her other arm slinging over his shoulder to pull him close. Her eyes closed and for a glorious moment, the whirlwind in her mind calmed. She could still smell whatever it was he washed with and it made her greedy. She ended one kiss and immediately went for another.

❝ Hun-ah. ❞

As the conversation took a melancholy turn, Jongin pursed his lips and positioned the phone’s screen to fit his face and torso. It was the best improvisation he could do for the times he couldn’t be there for his fiancé physically, when there were miles and days between them. Business trips were difficult on them both, but especially for Sehun who acknowledged Jongin’s absence far too sentimentally when he was gone.

Jongin wished he could be there now, to hold Sehun in his arms and kiss him silly for even remembering such pains. What Sehun couldn’t feel, he hoped he could compensate for with the sight of a smile that reminded him of a home not too far from where he was.  ❝ I love you, too. I’ll be back before you even know it, so don’t even think about hating yourself or whatever it is that’s getting you down. Promise, you big baby? ❞

At the sight of a shy smile, Jongin’s lips also curled into a boyish grin. His heart ached–it really did–knowing he couldn’t bring his lover into his embrace, but he knew better than to let that show.  ❝ There we go, there’s that beautiful smile! ❞

it’s safe to say that sehun is almost perpetually grumpy, and it gets much worse when jongin’s not around to humor and spoil him. he was more than happy to be able to video call jongin, of course, but that can only pacify him for so long before the pining for his fiancé’s presence creeps up on him again.

“if that’s the case then you should be back this second.” he pouts, bunching up the blanket to lean his head against as he lays comfortably on his stomach. the sight of your smile has his heart doing a squeeze like it always does, and it manages to lift his mood a little and his lips to a tiny grin. “mh fine.” sehun brings up his curled pinky to the camera and shakes it as if to pretend he’s holding yours -- their childish little way of making promises.

she usually doesn’t throw up when she’s taken a large intake of alcohol, but it seems like her stomach flipped over and couldn’t take it anymore. she’s probably damaged her liver but, that wasn’t the main thought. it reeked, and the back of her throat was scuffed due to the amount of acid that kept getting regurgitated. it made her sick, even wanting to quit drinking but for some reason it behaved as an agonist. it calmed her down when the storm brewed, much liked the nicotine embedded in cigarettes when she smoked them. at least these thoughts drove her away from all of her retching and gagging. she sniffles, rubbing her nose before dabbing away the excess vomit from her lips.

┠ ✤ :- [X]  Send me… ♥:  For a surefire way to win my muse’s heart◄ ┨ :: @precinctboy

▬  There are probably a variety of ways for that to happen, though it depends entirely on character. One of the most important traits is probably having a good combat ability! Strength in a physical regard. This makes him lust. Pair that with a sharp mind and a fairly analytical personality, and you’ve got yourself a Takeo salivating at your feet. 

    “don’t even worry. it’ll take reincarnation and then some to make you half as handsome as me,” jongin assured his friend, although he was well-aware that jhin’s tone of voice expressed pity, not admiration.

    jongin wasn’t in denial; he was simply and blissfully ignorant to the fact that he really was the poster child of a single, lonely bachelor surviving his midlife crisis (considering jongin planned his death at fifty, twenty-four was just barelyhalf). his coffee table was littered with cigarette stubs and chinese take-out coupons, the rest of his furniture doubling as places to hang his dirty laundry. if jongin hadn’t cleaned the place just ten minutes prior to jhin’s visit, his apartment would have been messy enough to be declared a fire hazard, maybe even a dump. but! jongin was proud to have a place to call his own, where he could freely invite friends over and have them recline on a couch he masturbated on, in the privacy of his own home.

     “you mean, you should try to be like me, one doesn’t simply end up to be kim jongin,” he scoffed, tightening the drawstrings of his baggy sweatpants while he cleared a spot on said cum-stained couch for his most valued guest.

he’s really in no position to talk, not with the state of his own crappy apartment. but jongin doesn’t need to know about the layers of dirt that coat his own piles of empty ramen packets and half eaten boxes of takeout. there’s a reason why he’s always crashing at jongin’s place rather than inviting him over. evidently, they’re both slobs in their own way, but jhin takes pleasure in shaming jongin as much as possible. 

“half? even being completely as handsome as you sounds like a fucking curse.” a drawl, sarcastic even as he steps ( and almost trips ) over the small chair that the house owner’s conveniently decided to use to double up as a clothes rack. jhin all but sighs, his nose upturned and features scrunched. it doesn’t look that much different from his own apartment, but it’s easy to shit on someone else when they’re unaware of your plight. “and you said you cleaned up before i came...”, he continues, making it a point by gesturing to the general clutter in the room. “how do you live in.. this?” 

Distractions might pierce through the pores of the young male’s flesh once in a while and bring chaos upon himself, rip any sense of direction and blur the path ahead if proper care is not taken, which occasionally leads to collisions taking place out in the open with either his mind being at fault or whoever comes on the opposite direction instead. The hot weather dawning upon Seoul has caused his senses to drastically decrease as exhaustion takes over his being instead like a child hanging around broad shoulders, gravity changing its intensity to compel  his being tot he ground--it is true, however the innumerable period of training has brought an eagle eyes to be developed by the young male, an aptitude to dodge obstacles presented along the path. Not every situation has a peaceful outcome, however.

Catastrophe is bond to be unleashed ever so often.

The corner of agile hues easily hook a glimpse of an unknown male pacing on the reversed direction where he finds himself, the curve of the stranger’s neck exposed to the caress of the wind by the inclination of his head forward as eyes seem focused on the screen of a mobile phone instead of guarding the surroundings--a usual sight to spot among the crown, society drawn by technology to the extent the entire world comes to be blocked.

Being rude has never quite been Thomas’ forte, neither has it been coming up with a brilliant comeback, however effrontery was not to be tolerated to any extent, especially not when he wasn’t at fault. And it is bond to happen, an embarrassing collision in an empty street where neither bother to inch further apart, perhaps by pride and lack of attention--whatever reason it comes to be, the cracking of the phone’s material to the ground startles the male  “Be careful next time.” The timbre to his tone is drier than what was intended, resulting of the previous sound crumbling to the ground, a sight of which he is apologetic towards however may do nothing about.

“You wanna say that again?” A parting of the stranger’s lips draws the edge of his perfectly sculpted brow to ascend as an inquiry, forced by the piercing of the phone’s edge to take a single step backwards once the daring move is set to the tables, a purpose push to his shoulder resulting on the latter’s attitude.  “Come on, say that again.” They might call it a breaking point, whereas Thomas deems as the edge of his patience meter bitten off