polaroid .

first class let-down twenty-one, dog familiar

[covsoojung-blog]

ensnared. kji, ltm.

[covjongin-blog]

covsoojung:

“Hurry up.” she adds helpfully, with a swat against the curve of his ass that prompts a poorly stifled laugh.

The annual ball has always been one of Jongin’s favorite school events. Not because he likes to attend it in clothes much too fancy for his preference, no, but the opposite. With over half the school shuffled into the grand ballroom, most campus buildings and the guest house lie quiet and he revels in it. Some years he’ll make his way to his usual practice room, let his music reverberate against the walls uninterrupted, untainted by student chattering just outside the door, as he dances not of ballroom but of locked limbs and strong movements. Other years he stays in, lazes around all day doing everything and nothing, sometimes high, sometimes sober. This year, he chooses the latter. Wakes up at twelve in the afternoon barely remembering the ball is scheduled for later that night until squinted eyes glance at the lock screen of his phone. 

Not that it matters, anyway. Because much like the previous years, he never planned on attending this annual ball. But then again, he never planned on Lee Soojung either. So it takes him by surprise, hours later, when his door swings open to reveal Soojung in a little black dress (and he makes a mental note to himself to lock the door from now on -- or maybe not). He drops the controller in his hand in shock, head whipping towards the sudden noise with his eyes wide in panic and mouth slightly ajar. His heart is ready to jump out of his chest, each thump ringing louder than the last and locking eyes with his unexpected visitor does nothing to calm it. If anything, the sweet voice calling his name and the soft press of lips against his cheek dares his heart to be louder, dares his body to heat up, dares his mind to remember what happened just one week prior. 

“Soojung,” he says, out of lack for anything better to say, while his body goes through the motions of standing up from the pull of delicate fingers wielding a firm grasp. It’s only then he notices the suit resting over her arm and he cocks an eyebrow at that, meets her mischievous gaze with his own questioning eyes. The state of frustration she left him in is not a feeling he can forget and it resurfaces then as she makes her proposal -- her demand -- because he wants to say no, but he can’t stop his free hand from reaching for the suit in her arms. “I do know, but what makes you think I want to go? With you, especially?” he asks, wiggling his wrist free from her grip. With the suit actually in his hands, feeling very very real, he reconsiders the situation, considers firmly turning her down. But the slap on his ass and her soft laugh snap him out of his thoughts, reminding him how much he wants her and his hands act before he can think any longer, pulling his plain black tee off.

A hand lingers over the top of his gray sweatpants, thumb resting between warm skin and the elastic. He thinks of giving her a show, showing her what she so cruelly turned down after buttering him up, but his hand releases the elastic to reach for Soojung’s arm instead. “Sorry, no free shows,” he teases with a smirk settling onto his lips, pulling her to his front door. “Should’ve taken advantage of the discount last time,” he adds, lips still pulled mischievously as he closes the door with Soojung on the other side. Denial for denial, he thinks as the satisfying click of his lock reaches his ear. He likes to believe he’s won, evened the playing field, but he unknowingly forfeits his power the moment he slips into the suit and opens the door to unveil himself, dark hair still disheveled atop his playful expression, and asks, “Ready?”

[fykai1]

LIKING

[covsoojung-blog]

reverence. kji.

[covjongin-blog]

covsoojung:

“You’ve thought about it - snuck glances at me.” She shifts the tense from the both of them to something singular- less threatening, less strange. Besides- she wants this victory for herself, at least at first. A game she plays to win, with such a pretty prize. “Or are you going to try and deny that?”

While his lips are forced into a light smile, her laughter rings soft, comfortable, playful. While his dirtied converse are stuck to the floor two feet away from her, she takes one step closer with ease. And while Jongin is at a loss, Soojung is intimidating, off-putting, yet captivating all at once, and the wide open room suddenly feels very suffocating with no exit. He hates how nervous he feels, tries not to show it on his face by holding her gaze and keeping his lips steady. He’s never been this tense around females, around anyone at all really, but Soojung is different, strange, an inseparable package deal. So it comes to no surprise when his small laugh at her correction comes out shaky, when he refuses to close the gap between them out of fear of what he might do if he does. 

“No, no, that was definitely more than enough,” he tries in jest again, laughs a little to pretend she was joking though he knows very well that she wasn’t. He keeps himself busy, readjusting his black cap once, twice, three times as he clears his throat, watches intently as her eyes trail down his body, and thinks. Liked it? Had he? Was that what that odd feeling in his stomach had been? Was that why he started to notice their public displays more often? He worries that the answer to all these questions are ‘yes’, that he’s just as strange as the two of them, that he’s no different -- but then she offers him an out. The singular ‘me’ rings in his ears and he clings onto it, pulling him out of the pit he quickly fell into. “What happens if I don’t deny it, he starts, voice soft and the grin on his lips much steadier than before, confident, mischievous, “If I say yeah, I’ve thought about it -- you -- what then?” 

And maybe he’s being tricked, but Jongin pretends he’s not, closes the gap with two steps forward and another quick lick of his lips, “Because maybe I have.”

[covsoojung-blog]

reverence. kji.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she promises, pitched to carry soft in the distance between them, which she waits patiently for him to close. “You’ve seen some things, haven’t you?” The words are light, teasing, inviting, and as wicked as the smile that curves her lips. 

[covjongin-blog]

He never means to stare. Or maybe he does. Even Jongin isn’t quite sure why his eyes always linger towards sinful fingers traveling up the other twin’s shirt in the middle of class. He chalks it up to curiosity, an only child wondering what it must feel like to have a sibling held so dearly that they seemingly cannot live without the other, cannot keep their hands off each other. Or maybe it’s something more, but everyone calls it -- them -- disgusting, and so he shoves any other thoughts he may have into the far depths of his mind because yes, he reminds himself, it is repulsive. He keeps his distance, then, especially after his little run in that had him stuttering, sweating, thinking things he didn’t want to at one in the morning that night. It’s nothing new, anyway, he’s always keeps his distance -- from her, from them, from everyone. He always has preferred hiding away in the empty practice rooms after classes, just him, the mirror, and the music reverberating against white walls. 

Jongin sniffs once as he walks down the halls to that familiar destination, reaching up to adjust the black cap sitting atop messy brown hair. He hurries through the crowd, red converse squeaking against the floor beneath fitted black jeans, and expects to see nothing but his reflection as he pushes the wide door open -- which he does, but wide-eyed and stopped in his tracks when an all too familiar figure stands in the middle of an otherwise empty room. “What, for me? You have?” he asks immediately, still stopped, confused, with fingers digging into the strap of his backpack. Then she continues and he still doesn’t know what to make of this, doesn’t know what she expects him to say. But he plays along, anyway, tries to figure out the rules along the way. A tongue darts out between dry lips, and he steps forward, slow and hesitant with his heart starting to make itself audible to his ears. “I guess I have,” he answers, mimicking her light tone, brown eyes fixated on the mischievous curve of her lips as the distance between them lessens to a few steps. “Maybe a little too much,” he tries in jest, laughing though it registers more nervously than he had hoped, “So? What about it?”

[fykai1]

liking