apatheistic

jeon wonwoo, 21. theology major.

[acawonwoo-blog]

I WANT THE K

“i don’t really know how to use this thing.” a lie. wonwoo’s standing around, fidgeting with the buttons of the dslr camera carefully, glasses sliding down and threatening to crash fall to the ground. “don’t you?”

“beats me.” a tease. soonyoung’s lounging on the front steps, finding a position to comfortably be in for the next five seconds. comfortable shouldn’t really be a thing, though, considering that’s not the point of the project. what kind of project? had been left unanswered, leaving the other to fend for himself with figuring out what certain settings do and mean. it’s more out of curiosity - something wonwoo won’t admit. 

stalling’s better when you have an excuse. easier.

a scowl’s apparent sooner or later, the taller squatting down in front of the bottom step. there’s zero time for contemplation and beating around the bush any longer, a tired groan emitted as he tries to readjust the exposure settings on the device.

“dude.”

wonwoo doesn’t look up. down, technically. well. just really at soonyoung.

“hey.”

still nothing.

“hey.”

“it’s the camera that’s the problem, you know.” he clicks his tongue, setting said item down carefully on the concrete of the next step up. a funny look takes over when he properly sees his friend, however, mouth agape at the position the latter’s attempting. soonyoung’s head rests on the bottom step, legs hoisted up just above with his heels planted on the surface of the top step.

“i-”

“just take the camera and press the button, man.”

al-fucking-righty.

his motions are swift in picking the dslr back up, fingers anxiously clutching the device as he peers through the viewfinder and switches it on. wonwoo tilts the camera vertically whilst still squatting, snaps a photo as told. with ease - something soonyoung’s baffled to learn about the minute the shot’s taken. at least he assumes so, based on the smug look on wonwoo’s face once he’s done.

but before soonyoung can get up from his spot, all hopes of avoiding potential brain damage out the door - literally - he’s stopped in his tracks. there’s a hand on his shoulder, some oddball of a friend with circular glasses staring down at him from this angle with the calmest expression he’s seen from his end. something tells him he shouldn’t be this relaxed. why aren’t you panicking?

curiosity grows when the gap between them shrinks, time never being on soonyoung’s side in letting him figure out what it is that wonwoo’s putting himself up to here and now.

their lips are pressed together, soonyoung registers soon enough. no problem regarding awkward nose bumping or teeth clashing or anything of the usual sort.

not that he can really tell. his fingers are too busy trying to find the other’s collar, wanting to draw wonwoo in and make him - them - stay this way.

just a few more seconds -

click.

hazy eyes flutter open all too soon, nothing more than pure confusion on his own face when he checks to confirm the source of that sound. in wonwoo’s hand is the camera to his left, a subtle grin accompanying his actions as he leans back and checks the main screen for the result. pretends to, anyway. what he’s doing instead: capturing this moment, the stars in soonyoung’s eyes when he’s caught dumbfounded and… what is that, annoyed?

he’ll ask later.

it’s the genuineness in this expression that urges him to be quick.

click.

“nice.”

the grin’s wider this time, screen pointed in soonyoung’s direction for him to see just what wonwoo’s schemed for.

-

there’s no use in being upset, flustered, anything.

it’s a perfect shot.

@acasoonyoung​ received: #16! an upside-down kiss. 

[acawonwoo-blog]

I want the k

affection comes in stride.

you can tell it’s in feather-light grazes and putting the front of being polite aside, cheeky grins meeting stoic frowns. sometimes polite is real, in the form of respecting the frown without having to ask why it is so.

characteristic, is keeping the grin anyway.

“you didn’t actually need me here tonight, did you?”

nonsense, her fingers say. they’re clutching his wrist carefully, finding a pulse along unscathed skin. it’s an oddball habit of hers, curiosity running through her veins in place of blood. it’s almost always like this with her, observation being the most you can do after some time.

eunbi’s effect, simply put. she’ll never say it out loud.

but you’d be a fool to disagree.

they both know.

“you’re funny with everything being subject, oppa.” an easy implication, as common as finding his pulse is calm for every time she bothers to check. “don’t you trust me enough to know when to waste your time or not?”

you’re never a waste of time.

her grin’s more subtle this round, head landing on wonwoo’s shoulder before eunbi draws her hand away. a yawn comes through, eyes closing as she targets her next area of physical touch. arms link together before the guy can protest. he’s too tired to have it in him to do that much.

experts would call this deprived.

“i just need ten minutes,” she whispers.

“sure.”

he gives her twenty. 

there’s a nudge to the side for her to stir. but it’s to no avail, nose crinkling sheepishly at the attempt. the couch could have easily provided her solace, he’d figured halfway through this quiet time.

wonwoo allows himself to smile, finally. where she can’t see. where being caught off guard won’t be a problem for either one of them anytime soon. 

and then, a kiss upon turning his head. aimless, no real target. a noteworthy contrast between him and her.

you know that too, right?

eunbi remains unbothered, asleep or not.

a reminder, a prompt that - 

affection should come in waves.

@acaeunbi received: #8! an eyelid kiss.

[acawonwoo-blog]

+ turf.

[acawonwoo-blog]

jeonghan takes a few strides ahead, walking backwards as he looks at his friend with narrowed eyes. “your forehead looks fine. it’s a beautiful forehead.” he punctuates this with lips pressing tightly together to suppress a snort, and failing. “anyway, they say large foreheads mean you’re, like, a fucking genius or something. so there’s that.” you are, though. usually.

but the sudden change in the other’s expression has jeonghan stopping mid-step. he turns - or attempts to, really - turn to where wonwoo’s gaze is directed at, only to feel fingers around his wrist, and the return of the searing fucking flames engulfing his thigh muscles. he almost hits the glass door, arm reaching out to keep it open as he hops on one foot into the building.

jesus fucking christ.

practice is fucking over, wonwoo.

track, thankfully, has heightened jeonghan’s ability to jump over obstacles, squeeze himself between people and things, which he apparently needs to do multiple times in this sudden extension of the field. by this point, jeonghan feels disgusting - shirt and hair damp with sweat, and skin pressed against his own bumping into people. (just the idea of people is repulsive enough.)

jeonghan finds his back pressed against the wall. his face, he easily guesses, is one of utter disbelief, eyebrows raised in question and mouth hanging agape both in an attempt to catch his breath and force out a rebuttal that can’t seem to come. his throat is fucking dry; he’s parched. it’s hot, and his skin is burning. jeonghan can only shove the other’s shoulder, a light gesture considering he’s out of energy.

“dude, what the actual fuck?”

fair share of exercise my fucking ass.

he pulls his face back, away from the other’s hold. he slides down onto the floor, giving in to exhaustion. there’s a wince that escapes when he crosses his legs. “what the fuck was that?” he smacks the other’s knee with the back of his hand. “asshole. can you at least fucking explain?”

wonwoo presses his hand to his chest, wearing an expression of mock disbelief as he looks down at the other. “asshole. me?” you’re probably right. he scoffs quietly, smile appearing all too soon when he comes forward and sits criss-cross applesauce right across. the moment their knees touch, though, his smile is gone and his glasses are off his face. jeonghan’s not so bad from this angle, he decides. any, really.

“i could.” he lays his palms flat on his friend’s thighs, fingers drumming along his skin as he looks into his eyes. “but that’d be too much to explain in this sitting.” wonwoo raises a brow, leaning forward to brush bangs out of the other’s face and rest his hand upon the side of his face. jeonghan’s flush from what he sees, causing concern to dwell for a second or two before he rises from his spot. there’s initiative to jog to the nearest vending machine and retrieve anything he can find, a wary look spared at the end of the hall just in case.

please, please don’t be here.

(he looks tired enough.)

a water bottle and a snack is what wonwoo comes back with, the latter being tossed towards jeonghan before joining him at his side. “you need to eat,” he says, twisting open the cap before handing it over and resting his arms behind his head against the wall. again, he could reiterate. but maybe this isn’t actually his friend’s second “meal” of the day anyway.

his ankles cross together while he tries to compose a thought, tongue sweeping over his front teeth as he closes his eyes. nothing about the situation comes to mind - coherent, usable, valid. had he really seen someone at all? or had this just been a hoax out of mere paranoia? wonwoo doesn’t want to admit he hasn’t gotten sleep last night because of this alone, lips pursing tightly at the thought when his hands drop to his lap.

“it’s... nothing, actually.” kind of hard to lie when the most you do in that realm is tell kids santa and the easter bunny are both real. really, this is wonwoo’s method of stalling so jeonghan can relax, however, elbow resting leisurely on his friend’s shoulder as he traces patterns upon his own thigh.

“though i guess i should have said speak of the devil before we ran off.”

[acawonwoo-blog]

I want the K. ( ˘ ³˘)❤

wonwoo seizes the opportunity to close his eyes when jihoon finds himself tired of grumbling. but he learns there’s nothing fun about shuteye lasting for a good five seconds, a face buried into the crook of his shoulder feeling all too ticklish for his liking. he rests his hand over the other’s mouth then, brow quirking up in slight irritation as he tilts jihoon’s head just enough for him to face up.

“are you done yet?”

jihoon only shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing together as he removes wonwoo’s hand from his face. “i don’t know, are you done?”

“with what?”

there’s a pause, jihoon looking at the older with a helpless expression, grip around wonwoo’s wrist tightening for a second or two. you’re kidding, right?

grumbling resumes when he lifts himself away from lying on top, bird’s nest apparent on his head on his way out the room. there’s no looking back over his shoulder, no sense of lingering or stopping in his tracks. initially anyways.

no one makes it past the door, lithe fingers curled loosely around jihoon’s wrist with the intention to keep him around. wonwoo figures he should have done a better job making that clear, expression now soft as he looks at his boyfriend from head to toe.

boyfriend. a word that doesn’t usually mean as much as it does right now. where’d it come from? where could it go?

“where did you come from, cotton-eye joe?” wonwoo finishes out loud, earning another confused look from below. to which he then smiles, making the effort to crouch down until they’re at eye level. the expression is subtle, but he’s keen on having jihoon pay attention if said guy can stay put and just stop making noise for another five minutes.

just five more.

“the collar really isn’t big enough,” he starts gently, looking down and tracing his fingers along the bottom hem of the sweater. with a casual lift of the fabric he exposes bare skin, taking jihoon’s wrist to pull him in closer and get him tucked inside of the clothing article, the two joined together again within as they’d been back on the bed not too long ago. it’s a ticklish feeling, wonwoo shuddering upon the contact before stretching the collar enough for jihoon’s head to peep through. they’re cheek to cheek by the time it slips through, sheepish grin out of the younger’s view as wonwoo elects to wrap his arms around his torso.

“see?” he draws his head back enough for them to come face-to-face, foreheads knocking together as he feigns annoyance. i told you so.

jihoon only rolls his eyes and avoids wonwoo’s gaze, hands kept to his sides as he stays trapped in his embrace. “you were teasing me earlier for not being able to do it, hyung.”

“do what?”

shut the heck up. there’s a glare now, though it’s more sad than anything. wonwoo frowns at this, only to break out into a more serious expression before studying jihoon’s facial features. one at a time, from long eyelashes to the way his mouth juts out in the present moment. he can’t tell if that’s natural or not, having an expression like this at all. at least from the likes of him.

curiosity makes him lean in anyway, his own lips pressed softly against jihoon’s as his hands lock tighter at the small of his back. a tint of red becomes clear on the younger’s face when wonwoo leans back again, annoyance almost immediately disappearing thanks to the gesture.

there’s only stammering at first. silence, next. it goes well with pink, justifies jihoon’s current state of being when he chooses not to look wonwoo in the eye once again. hyung never comes out of his mouth, wonwoo resuming his default expression as he keeps jihoon in his hold.

“are you done now?” the taller male says, eyes soft as he lifts a hand to tuck away a piece of the other’s hair behind his ear.

jihoon can only pout then, pecking the corner of wonwoo’s lips quickly before closing his eyes and burying his face into the crook of his neck. wonwoo assumes this is a yes if he’s no longer grumbling, a small smile creeping up on his lips - half out of relief, another out of assurance.

what a baby.

he’ll never say his out loud.

@acaxjihoon received: #7! a romantic kiss.

[acawonwoo-blog]

i want the k 😍

case: it’s not gay if it’s above the neck.

but, sans stupidity and the typical boisterous mindset of men (redundant, perhaps), what if it’s on the neck?

there’s too much thinking, not enough doing. fidgety hands go with this feeling, along with knitted brows and a frown he didn’t know was there until now. they’re supposed to be playing, and if baekhyun weren’t so immersed in the game at hand, he’d easily tell the furrowed brow isn’t one of concentration.

if baekhyun weren’t so immersed in the game at hand, too, he wouldn’t particularly notice anything else happening. undivided focus on making commentary and figuring out the puzzles by himself on the screen is already taxing enough, and anyone would be wrong to let that all go to waste with a simple distraction.

anyone, doesn’t include wonwoo.

after all, there’s a kick out of winning. or at least making it impossible for one to.

his fighter today, hence, is leaning in. strikes are counted when baekhyun doesn’t flinch.

“you’ve been at this for a good fifteen minutes now,” wonwoo starts, electing to ignore the usual irritation that comes with watching the other not be able to figure out a simple clue sometimes.

strike one.

“let me solve it.” he turns his head to look at the side of baekhyun’s face, eyes scanning a target to land on as he lays his hand open on the other’s lap, opening and closing as an indication for him to hand the console over.

strike two.

a sigh, through his nose. his lips are pursed together as he relaxes his gaze, face now simply unamused as he settles his chin on his friend’s shoulder. if he can’t fight it now, wonwoo figures there must be a way to distract him somehow. games aren’t that serious, are they?

“can i at least tell you something?” he whispers, head tilting to the side to get one measly response. even a nod will do by now.

baekhyun mumbles to himself, half about the game, half in acknowledgment that wonwoo’s still there. it’s close enough.

so am i, the younger thinks when he smirks against his friend’s skin. he’s leaned in close enough to have his words directly come from his mouth to baekhyun’s ear, but if baekhyun weren’t so immersed in the game at hand, he’d figure out by now that this isn’t what this is supposed to be.

‘something’ never makes it past his mouth. it’s on his mouth, lips pressing gently onto the juncture of baekhyun’s neck. there’s no opportunity to linger, however, for the gamer finally shivers on spot and draws back in shock.

“yah!” baekhyun pushes the other away, eyes widened in surprise as his hand flies up to rub the spot wonwoo had just kissed. he’s no longer holding onto the controller, tongue in cheek as he looks at the younger male with a look wonwoo’d had not too long ago. “what’d you do that for?”

there’s a shrug, brows resuming their natural state as wonwoo suppresses a smile. he takes this time to grab the console, put the puzzle to a rest with the one move baekhyun’s managed to be missing all this time. “just wanted to make sure you were still here,” is all he says, right brow quirking up as he looks at the camera beside the screen. a characteristic wink ensues, puzzle now solved.

verdict: yeah. of course not.

@acaxbaek received…. #10! a neck kiss.

[acawonwoo-blog]

I want the K

“well. if it was bad sex, then how am i supposed to know the energy without. any! proof?!”

hyunjung’s asked for the…. seventh time now, maybe? though obviously not like that. given, she’s drunk and a little loopy - giggly, giddy. hands wrapped around her nth soju bottle, never minding the condensation trickling upon her skin as she sways side to side in her seat. 

wonwoo’s not so keen on elaborating with words, however. it’s easier to be amused, easier to be humored at how casually she asks (again). something tells him she at least knows her own lightheartedness in the moment; it’s clear in a lopsided grin one second, a ruby pout the next.

all that aside, he’s fucking gay.

which means words wouldn’t translate properly at this rate, regardless. why would she ask over and over anyway?

so, wonwoo shrugs. continues to watch his friend sway in place to nothing, raises a brow and crinkles his nose at the sight. it’s endearing, he thinks. makes him wonder how much different this encounter would be if they were still behind their screens, providing snide commentary and cheeky emojis back and forth.

it’s better like this. a simple thought he’s sure she’d agree on. the smile on her face doesn’t seem fake enough for him to be convinced otherwise.

when hyunjung finally looks at him for an answer, eyes tired and forehead crinkled in drunken confusion, he grins. it’s a soft expression, but when he decides to take her hand from her lap and bring it up to his lips, it falters slightly. only because he’s too busy making sure she gets his point, gets that it wasn’t a pleasant encounter for him at all upon recollection. it’s a sloppy reenactment, though accurate nonetheless. lips still pursed together, hard—to the point where he feels the surface of his teeth could just about touch the skin of her palm.

luckily for her, it’s a fleeting action, too. i’ll spare you, he almost says.

but hyunjung wouldn’t remember. hopefully. she’d be lucky if she didn’t.

“a little like that,” wonwoo finishes simply. though it’s only half a truth… well. who’s counting?

sobriety’s a sneaky thing. inebriation, raw.

@acahyunjung​ received… #5! a firm kiss.

[bokdeongeori]

a best friend love-hate relationship 

[acawonwoo-blog]

+ turf.

[acawonwoo-blog]

he responds by offering his friend a toothy grin, blissfully swinging their hands together as they walk up the bleachers. jeonghan’s answer is not obnoxiously snide (for once!). “well, i mean, sure.”  his grip on the other’s hand grows tighter with each step - an attempt for balance since it feels like his feet have been submerged in cement.

“i’ve been in track since…” with his free hand, he counts, but five fingers aren’t enough. the index finger on his other hand subconsciously twitch. “well, i guess almost a fucking decade. we’re bound to share showers. it’s not a big deal.”

once they’re on stable ground (his calves are burning), they pass by a few other members of the track team. jeonghan’s first instinct is to free his hand from wonwoo’s grasp, uses it to casually wave back. goddamn it. fuck. he runs his tongue along his upper molars, hands settling on his hips this time instead. public hand-holding. what’s so wrong with that?

“have you, though?” he asks in return, feigns nonchalance, a hand running through damp hair. “showered with someone else?”

oh, right. the public part.

“you’d like to know,” he teases casually, hand now awkwardly clenched into a ball as he swings it forward once and tucks it into his pocket. a few seconds pass as he opts for silence, eyes down on the ground, foot idly kicking a pebble before he can answer.

wonwoo shakes his head, looking back up at his friend and exhaling through his nose. “unless my sisters count? we were kids, obviously.” the corner of his lips tugs up more than he’d expected at the thought, another sigh happening as he runs his hand through his hair. “they used to make fun of me having a small forehead. told me it was bound to get bigger eventually, but... i’m pretty sure they were just using me as a mirror for their so-called ‘pep talk’.” fingers crookedly accompany the last two words in the air, hands falling back to his sides as he continues to walk up until they find shade.

at least that’s his intention. someone catching the corner of his eye disturbs this plan, however, causing wonwoo to freeze then and there at the sight. eyes widen, feet stuck in place as he tries to form a valid reason to avoid what’s at hand.

shit.

shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

wonwoo’s fingers are quick to find jeonghan’s wrist soon enough, free hand pushing the double doors leading to the nearest building. they don’t intertwine with his this time, but he doesn’t make an effort to let go, pulling him in closer even as he dodges any passersby in his path. doesn’t make the effort to look back, apologize for possibly giving jeonghan a semi-permanent cramp in his legs at this point.

we’re not really supposed to be in here. that’s a sole reminder, playing through his head as he tries to think of an excuse behind this impulse. not that it was entirely invalid - 

the bitch of the year had just disturbed his fucking agenda.

she knows he knows.

“fuck.” one hand settles against the corner of the corridor wall subconsciously as wonwoo decides to focus on jeonghan’s face, eyebrows furrowing together in contemplation. he’s distracted - wants to be, at least. but the thoughts running in his mind make this difficult. so does the weight in his chest from having just - well, ran for his fucking life.

his bangs obscure his vision when he looks down at their feet and tries to catch his breath, face lifting back up to peer over jeonghan’s shoulder and past the surface he’s clutching.

so far, so good. (subjective, as always.)

“i guess we’ve had our fair share of exercise today,” wonwoo offers breathlessly, patting jeonghan’s jaw softly as he focuses his gaze back on him. he squishes the other’s face between his thumb and remaining fingers, forming a pout on his friend’s lips. “unless you wanna race back home, too.” 

they’re closer to the place by now anyway.

[chivalrousxhybrid-deactivated20]

Send me 'I want the K' and I'll generate a number

[tastcful-archive-blog]

chivalrousxhybrid:

1: Hot, Steamy kiss

2: Cheek Kiss

3: Nose Kiss

4: Forehead Kiss

5: Firm Kiss

6: Gentle Peck

7: Romantic Kiss

8: Eyelid Kiss

9: Jawline Kiss

10: Neck Kiss

11: Collarbone Kiss

12: Chest Kiss

13: Stomach Kiss

14: Kiss Along the Hips

15: Kiss in the Rain

16: Upside-Down Kiss

17: Goofy Kiss

18: Underwater Kiss

19: Forceful Kiss

20: Any of the Above

21: Then there’s tongue

[acaxjihoon-blog]

⎡Cat-astrophe⎦

[acawonwoo-blog]

Relief floods Jihoon’s system in the slightest way when he sees that the other is taller than him. Despite the fact that he has to crane his neck a little to look the person in the eye, he’s more concerned about the feline still stuck in the branch. He shrugs off his bag and leans it by the tree after he’s fished out his ever trusty pink mouth mask, pausing when the other asks him a question,

“Oh. Um… no, it’s not mine, but it might belong to somebody else.” He flashes an apologetic look to the stranger before standing up to his full height, “I just need help getting up the tree so I could fetch the little guy. Poor thing must be really scared.” Worry is clear on his face as he cranes his neck even more to look up at the cat, fingers fiddling with the fabric of his mask.

“If you’d let me sit on your shoulders, perhaps…?” He studies the taller person, slightly worried that they wouldn’t be able to do such a thing. Looks can be deceiving, yes, but the other just looked so lanky that he could be blown away by the wind. A strong one anyway.

you’re quite the sympathetic one now, aren’t you?

it’s a thought he keeps to himself, but the sentiment still shows in a quirk of his brow. however, the following question renders him speechless, tongue-in-cheek as he rubs his jaw. this guy’s really something, straightforward and reserved all at once.

wonwoo decides to care just a little, then.

“huh.” his shoulders come up with the chuckle that slips past his mouth, tiny smile sneaking upon his face as he spares one glance behind him up to where the feline stays. there’s another funny look when he pays attention to the shorter male again, a small nod directed down towards the mask. “why do you need that?” wonwoo asks, hand waving over his own mouth as an indication to the particle on the other’s face. he already knows the answer, though. can i have one, too?

[acawonwoo-blog]

+ turf.

[acawonwoo-blog]

a groan slips when he lifts himself up, arms stretched over his head. for a second, he decides that wonwoo’s lap is comfortable enough for him to fall asleep on. now that that’s become a solid thought in his head, jeonghan is sure as fuck going to take advantage of it as much as he can.

“didn’t think you’d be into catering to other people’s voyeuristic needs.”

when his arms are back at his sides, he cranes his head to peer at his friend. “not that i mind, butjesus.” it takes all that remains of his lower body strength to push himself off the ground and keep him upright. regardless, he offer the other a hand. “the bleachers will, at least, give us a sense of privacy.” when did it matter, though? “anyway, let’s roll. i need a fucking shower.” a pause, eyebrows rising, smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he waits.

“unless you want me to actually jump you right here, right now.”

do you think at all? 

smart remarks fly so easily from the other’s mouth, it’s hard to decide on whether to shoot back or let him drown in how stupid they actually are on his own. wonwoo just scoffs though, taking jeonghan’s hand with ease before gathering himself and wiping the track dust from his shorts. fingers intertwine with his soon enough, just because. “these hands are better dry, hyung.” he nods at the top of his friend’s head, giving him a look to prove his point.

but really, they are. it’s got something to do with a better grip is his excuse, thumb grazing over the back of jeonghan’s hand when they walk over to the bleachers. step, step, step… all the way to the top, eventually. (stopping by all the way under was never really a choice, as tempting as it had originally seemed.)

“on a strictly curious side note, though,” wonwoo starts, free hand running through his bangs as he keeps his focus ahead, “have you ever tried showering with someone else?”

[acawonwoo-blog]

+ turf.

[acawonwoo-blog]

“i ate a fucking cookie.”

jeonghan lowers wonwoo’s hand further down his face, uses it to shield his eyes from the direct sunlight. a hand moves to wipe the sweat from his forehead, the same damp palm then plants itself against the other’s cheek. just for the sake of being gross and annoying.

“i’m just really out of shape.”

it’s only been a semester. jesus.

“you know what would be fun?” he’s still trying to catch his breath, chest rising and falling at an uneven pace. his lungs are on fire, and so are his thighs. “if you let me suck you off under the bleachers.” and we’re back to that.

the fucking audacity.

“that says enough, asshole.”

wonwoo leans into the other’s touch by instinct, only wincing at the thought of the stickiness lingering if he decides to pull away. there’s no hesitation in absorbing the words that follow, both hands circling around jeonghan’s neck in retaliation. lightly, mockingly. “and so does that.” about you. us.

a pause then, sigh coming through as he eases his grasp and opts for cupping his friend’s face instead. “just. why there?” palms sink into jeonghan’s skin, squishing his cheeks to form a little pout. “when you can do it right here?” his tone is lighthearted, right brow quirked just to emphasize his attitude on the matter - it doesn’t actually matter where, for him. almost ever.

almost. maybe privacy would be nice in its entirety, though. for once.

“either way,” wonwoo continues. “you gotta get up first.” (re: instead.) 

so we can do something else.

[rnood-deactivated20181223]

Visit Original Link

[acawonwoo-blog]

1. sundays are turquoise.

usually. 

but he’s stopped keeping track lately, thoughts always centered around unorthodox things like the blackest black or how many species have yet to be discovered while the sun’s still up and doing its own thing. the sun is 4.5 billion years old, pluto’s back to being a planet, and astrology is nothing but a hoax no matter how badly you want to say it’s not.

2. unorthodox is the tootsie brand of chocolate. plastic in texture, debatable in enjoyment. it’s no nicotine, but it helps when he chews down on it anyway. he has this disgusting habit of using his nails to gather the remaining bits from his back teeth before scraping it off his nails with the teeth in front. it’s only disgusting because it’s in public. otherwise, no one’s counting behind closed doors.

3. closed doors feel like a trap. they have to be at least one centimeter open - hell, even a millimeter. or else it’s suffocating, chest tight just at the thought of the lock clicking. what more if there’s no bottom gap?

4. if 1 + 1 = 2, then why does it feel like i’m the only one here?

“don’t just take up space.” it’s nothing more than a joke.

(you don’t.)

5. mother knows best, adorned in tiffany blue and pearls when she initiates the jab.

“these are nothing to me. you’re right here, on the other hand.” there’s a pat to her heart, nails manicured and clicking together on purpose when she draws her hand away. habitual, routine.

sweet nothings. it’s a tactic he should have learned to spot earlier.

(when is routine ever safe?)

6. but you don’t know anything at all.

black is for funerals.

traditional, a common custom.

she wears it, for once. today is sunday. there’s no use in taking him with her this time if he’s the very reason why.

does that make me your worst?

[halflunar]

How much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?

Richard Siken, Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light

[acasiyoon-blog]

** chainsmokers: an accident**

[acawonwoo-blog]

(...)

Siyoon smiles, greeting the younger with a sharp laugh. “You would think that, but—“ his fingers twitch, “I try to cover it up. I wouldn’t be living up to my image if I didn’t.”

But what image is there to maintain? Not when his habits are left bare for everyone to see.

He eyes the boy as he reaches for his back pocket, raising a questioning brow as he pulls out a pack—he picks out a stick, then another. Siyoon remains silent, saying nothing despite his curiosity. Of course there would be a hidden spare.

He merely shakes his head. “No, but I can assume that that’s for me, right?”

ridiculous.

wonwoo shrugs, nonchalance apparent in his expression as he twirls one stick in his fingers. “well, i can assume you’re not one to smoke.” the other slowly goes back into the pack, lips pursing together as he fidgets for his lighter in his front pocket. “but it’s no fun knowing any better now.”

he clicks his tongue under his breath, fire igniting the cigarette before the stick makes its way to his mouth. routine. makes these meetings just as useless to him as they are to the next person, spotted some feet away from the pair alone. wonwoo doesn’t bother talking for a while, relishing in the silence as he distracts himself for however long it takes to finish this joint. when he extinguishes it on the wall, only then does he finally open his mouth, words remaining on the tip of his tongue temporarily as he makes his way to the trash can to rid of the blunt.

“it’s been worse before.” his back hits the wall again, hands clasped together over himself as he looks down at the ground. “this habit.” a coping mechanism for problems that wouldn’t have been problems if he’d taken a certain route instead. he doesn’t like talking about it, managed to spare the details for everyone in that circle.

it’s not that personal translates to it’s none of your fucking business.

but it is cheap just faking it, though. that’s a problem on its own. 

c’est la vie.

“what’s your excuse, sunbaenim?”

your real one.

[acawonwoo-blog]

suji’s eyebrows arch up in surprise. oh. maybe giant dude wasn’t the best person to ask then. she stops rocking forwards and back and lowers her hand back down to her side, clearing her throat quietly because this situation became awkward all of a sudden. but then…

just kidding.

she’s perked up all over again, and just like that, all thoughts of failing her term paper have disappeared. suji watches as he pulls the book out, and ignores that little hint of envy that hits her at the way he can do it so nonchalantly. giant dude does it so casually, but she’s not going to dwell on that right now.

a thank you is on the tip of her tongue, but it isn’t given a chance to manifest itself into a proper verbal statement, because right then and there, giant dude is laying the book down, still out of reach. suji’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“wait what?”

her eyes shift from the bookshelf to giant dude, and she’s about to protest when he beats her to it.

what the hell kind of request is that?

in the span of a minute, suji contemplates leaving sans book. she could find the book online, order it, wait a week or two for it to arrive, and then maybe scrape through with a passing grade at the last minute. it’s plausible; it’s possible, but she’s already here, with the book so close (but so far), so how hard could it be to call a complete stranger oppa this one time?

suji steels herself and takes another deep breath. if she doesn’t get a perfect mark on this paper, she’s dropping out for sure.

“please can i have the book… oppa?”

wow!

a freaking record. admirable, even, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d had to ask in the first place. wonwoo’s nose crinkles just in the slightest at how serious she sounds, corner of his mouth quirking up as his fingers drum upon the surface of the book. she even said please. 

wow.

his eyebrows raise together, failing to stifle his laughter when his palm settles on the book’s spine. it’s quiet at least, hidden by the back of his other hand as he closes his eyes for a second and ends up pressing the book to his face. relax, wonwoo. what the fuck. “you really need this, don’t you?”

but soon he remembers they’re strangers, clearing his throat and collecting himself as his smile diminishes into a straight line. wonwoo sniffs, resting the book on top of his head as he holds it down with his palm flat. 

it doesn’t feel challenging enough, that whole addressing thing.

“think you can you jump?”

from what wonwoo can see, he’s gained two inches on her just for standing up straight. easy.

good luck, small gal.