—mac.

ordinary; 2young

He couldn’t help but smile at Jinyoung’s answer; though much longer than the simple yes or no he had been expecting he still listened to every word. Youngjae liked hearing words spill from the other’s lips, sometimes imagining he could collect them and save them for lonely days when he needed company the most. Though of course talking about bath water wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world. “I’m almost done folding and it takes like.. ten seconds to get undressed, max.” He shrugged. Never before had he considered taking a bath any sort of calculation.

Folding the shirt neatly and placing it on the counter to worry about later, the boy decided it was best to test the water himself. Youngjae knelt down next to Jinyoung and dipped careful fingers into the pooling water. He watched as ripples crossed with existing waves and dissolved into nothing but amorphous shapes. Warm enough, he decided, and straightened himself up soon enough while flicking water off of his fingertips.

“Punk rock.” Youngjae repeated, just to be sure he heard correctly. Never had he thought to describe himself (or even Jinyoung, for that matter) as punk anything. “Okay. Our shirt. Which drawer does it go in then?”

It was easier to just accept things as they were told to him.

"I would say some piece of shared furniture, but leaving clothes around is apparently messy and unhygienic," he answered, stood to walk towards the door, paused underneath its frame. Jinyoung had meant to look for a spot or drawer they could share--perhaps something special, something with gilded handles, dark wood of rich color; though he also remembered how little they had and limited choices were, restrained to current possessions, at least for now.

"Maybe we should put it in your things for now. It's probably cleaner there--I usually forget where I put things and pens end up in my drawers with clothes and other things, I can never be sure where they come from. But it's not anything weird like finding an animal in there, more like little things: notebooks, peens, keychains, one time I found an expired bill I forgot to pay. I don't know, I wouldn't want to damage our shared shirts; especially since they're still mostly yours."

His words came to an end when his feet woke up, began to move, took him from the bathroom door to a room and back, though he hadn't raked any wisdom, didn't crafted a solution. So, instead, he leaned against the frame, gave Youngjae a smile in apology.

"You're going to have to make the choice about this," he said, paused for a moment to switch subjects, "Did you hear the couple fighting outside earlier?"

birthday blues

( / the hug from jinyoung is a little unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. he leans back into the touch almost instinctively, happy as he is to be the recipient of affection and attention for just that moment. the smile on the boy’s face refuses to be dimmed or darkened any little bit, at least not when his favorite hyung is holding him close and and even has a cake ready just for him. youngjae never expected so much, but he’s not going to complain at all. ) i think yien hyung wanted to take us out tonight, but you know he’s not free until late. i’m all yours until i hear from him. ( / he’s still smiling despite the unsure shrug of his shoulders. ) what did you find online? do you wanna fit as much as you can into today? or all weekend? it’s your birthday too, after all. ( / there’s the unselfish youngjae, thinking of the other despite today being his day. he pokes jinyoung playfully in the side, teeth still all on display but a mischievous glimmer in his eyes with the poke. )

Well, it's nothing big or luxurious. we can get it done before your friend comes over and all. [` Jinyoung's hands inch upwards after he’s poked, reacts with a smile; he finds the soft expanse of Youngjae's cheeks with careful fingers, warm palms; there's much he wants to say, though more he wants to quiet for a few more hours, maybe a day, a week, something about that insistence in his head for Youngjae to expand past his borders--for him to spill past the lines that confine him, both of kindness and manners. but, he figures, today is a day of celebration, so his hands fall and he walks towards the kitchen counter, comes back with a piece of paper. over it he's cut and pasted various print and notes, some stickers to add color. ] Before he gets here, let's write a list of one hundred things we want to do. we don't have to agree, but we can; it's just a list of things to do. like when we get bored or have some time. [` that's when he shrugs, wonders where clarity has fled. ] It's sort of like a bucket list, but shared.

birthday blues

( / it’s not like youngjae had forgotten it was his own birthday, he had been counting down the days on his calendar since august so that would be nearly impossible, but he had come to assume that everyone else would. he hasn’t gotten a call from his sister or brother yet, not even a word from his parents. all things considered, he doesn’t expect any acknowledgement from his friends. and youngjae wouldn’t blame them, nor would he ever go out of his way to tell them what day it was. the fact that he had been remembered was enough to have him smiling when he walks in the door and idly drops his keys on the nearest surface to be forgotten about later. eyes go wide, and then suddenly very small as they’re crinkled into crescents by an even wider smile. ) my other half! ( / he laughs at his own words, also a little at how cute jinyoung sounds. ) thank you, and happy birthday to you too, hyung. soon, at least.

[` he steps closer to youngjae and lets his arms spread, lets them wrap around the smaller's frame; he isn't sure of what the protocol is, or whether he has to follow a set of rules or routine to celebrate someone's birthday and the lack of knowledge twists his stomach, makes him nervous as he squeezes his friend to him, as he smiles and wonders if this would be easier intoxicated. but he's there, sober, and youngjae fits so nicely in his arms that he relaxes, leans a bit against him as he quietly declares. ] there's a cake in the fridge. i wasn't sure if we'd be going out to celebrate, but i did look online for things to do on birthdays. [` after that, he pulls back, straightens up, lets his fingers linger on jae's shoulder before his arms dangle. ] i thought we could give some a try?

birthday blues

[` he hides the cake he's made towards the back of the fridge until the dainty shadows of groceries cover it, conceal the playful shame of having used salt instead of sugar. jinyoung had laughed, then, though now he worries about the state of the new one, propped on the top shelf, half white and half black—chocolate and vanilla. it's a tension he welcomes, one that soothes him, distracts him from the motion of time and hesitance, thick in the air, because he never asked if youngjae wanted the cake, he never asked much at all. rather, he works with what he knows: it's youngjae's birthday, his own is soon, and sharing a celebration seems only natural, a continuation of their tangled lives. though even then, the knots are neat, the braided pattern present; he enjoys when the threads join, when the stitches are lined with smile, a pleasant change from monotony, much like the rustle of keys and the sound of a presence. he's slow in his steps, sheepish with his hand that rubs at his neck, and careful with his lips, cuts each word into precise shapes. ] happy half birthday—you know, 'cause i'm the other half. well, my birthday is, but, yeah—happy birthday choi youngjae!

#rkcyj #queue !

ordinary; 2young

rkcyj:

He couldnât help but roll his eyes at Jinyoungâs response. There was no real irritation, Youngjae was far too mild mannered to ever harbor negative feelings for very long if they even formed in the first place. Especially not against Jinyoung in particular, whom Youngjae would willingly admit was his favorite hyung barring family members.

âWell why not? What good are you if you canât even see through walls?â The joke fell through the smile on his lips, shouted through the rooms and noises that otherwise tried to muffle and mute him. He still went when Jinyoung called him, though really it was a task that shouldnât matter enough to require so much effort.

Youngjae padded into the bathroom, a little disappointed to see the tub hadnât filled as much as he hoped since turning the water on. It seemed to take longer every time he wanted a bath, but maybe he was just becoming more and more impatient. He took notice of Jinyoungâs wet fingers, and for a moment the thought that he may be secretly stealing the water as ridiculous as the thought was. âIs it warm enough? Too warm?â Youngjae would rather not burn his toes later.

He displayed the shirt with both hands. âCan you see it now?â A note of playfulness came through the boyâs voice, grin still on his lips.

"I'm not sure," he answered, focused on a distant spot near the corner of the bathroom as his fingers wriggled, tried to find information through the thick thread of water but to no avail, "I never take baths. I mean, it's warm right now, but did you account for the time it takes for you to finish laundry? Or how long it takes to get naked? Is that in your calculations--baths seem like so much work."

It was almsot jsut as taxing just speaking of it, though he hid that under an impish smile, one that adorned his lips, made them just as playful as the boy in front of him; though it was calm as well, felt natural, fluid, so drenched in normalcy that it allowed Youngjae's colors to shine; they were subtle still, slowly forming texture, like the water that ran through his fingers.

"About that shirt," he started, tilted his head, waited for the sight to pluck enough memories to answer; it was Youngjae's shirt technically, but one day Jinyoung had worn it on accident, enjoyed the way he looked, proceeded to wear it enough times that it almost felt like his.

"It's like, uh," his lips pursed, gathered silence on the shape they built, "Ours? Like, people will have towels that say Mr. and Mrs. in the movies, and we're kind of like that except two men, and with shirts. We're sort of punk rock for that."

#rkcyj #queue

i love hats

rksoo:

Kyungsoo watches the rain fall, hit against the glass of the store and trickle down to the ground, distorting his view of the outside world. He feels grateful, to be stuck at work under shelter. While it’s cold and dull in the big wide world, he’s here in his smaller haven, well looked after and cuddled by the warmth of the heaters. Some people weren’t so fortunate, though.

The boy in question is at the counter, a box of ramen placed in front of him and Kyungsoo is momentarily stunned by the question, hesitating before he scans the item. He’s not a fucking weatherman? “I don’t know.” He shrugs, unhelpful as he taps away at the till. Rattling off the price, a hand out ready for the exchange he adds, “probably soon.”

He seems away with the fairies and Kyungsoo has no problem with that at all. To be honest, the shop has been dead all day and the company, as much as Kyungsoo is shit with people, is welcome; refreshing. “You can stay here until it lets up, if you want. I don’t have anything else to do and you bought something, so I have no reason to kick you out.”

He doesn't hesitate to make himself comfortable, takes the invitation with a thin smile and tugged eyes. It's his hands that move first, then his torso, then the twist of his hips that lets him perch on the counter. It's the emptiness of the store that lets him be socially adventurous, or so he figures as his arms cross and he looks at the cashier again, traces the curves of his lips, the round, large eyes.

"I guess I'm staying here," he declares while his shoulders rise and fall in a slow shrug. His lips rub together as silence clamors into the space around them, almost feels clumsy, awkward. So he opts to scoot closer to the cashier before his lips part, release the light patter of his words that march across his tongue, tip over the curl of his lips.

"You know, I used to think rain was really romantic. Like, I always imagined being proposed to in front of a shop like this one--like in that episode of The Office!--but then one day I forgot an umbrella and my jeans were wet and it was so uncomfortable. And I just don't like how sad it looks, like someone is just crying through the rain trying to get by in life, you know? Do you like the rain? What's your name?"

#rksoo #queue

ordinary; 2young

rkcyj:

If there’s one thing Youngjae missed about living with his parents, it was the fact that his mother folded his clothes for him.

Honestly, it’s not hard work. The fabric is soft under his fingers and still warm from the dryer, which really isn’t all that pleasant or satisfying considering summer weather but it’s not unbearable. Youngjae just had never been much of a fan of chores in general; maybe he was a little bit on the lazy side.

He hummed to himself, something familiar from the radio but the actual lyrics and name of the song escaped his mind. The melody was catchy enough to stay with him though. Running water had turned into white noise in the background, just enough sound to take away the silence. A bath was the perfect reward for doing mundane housework like laundry, as if folding clothes was something that deserved something de-stressing.

“Hyung,” his voice had never been particularly loud, but he raised it enough to ensure he’d be heard, “Is this yours or mine?” Youngjae held up one of the shirts yet to be folded. Did it really matter who it belonged to? Probably not, Youngjae had no qualms about sharing clothes but he still figured it was common courtesy to at least ask.

It was a slow transition from afternoon to evening, one Jinyoung watched from his window while his fingers fiddled with his phone, opened up apps only to close them, locked the screen only to slide it back to life again. It soothed his nerves--at least he told himself that--as he waited for the sun to set and for the numbers on the screen to align neatly.

And, when it did, he stretched his legs, stood up, made his way over to the bathroom; the air seemed to calm in response to the night, as though the heat outside thickened it, made it stale, hard to walk through while the windows still framed the setting sun. But now he cut through it with lifted arms, straightened fingers--it seemed like he was opening it up, spreading curtains so he could walk through with ease and some sort of comfort.

A few minutes later and he was perched on the rim of the bathtub; threads of water curled around his fingers, enveloped them only to let go, to drip past to crash against the pool of water forming. He watched this closely, only peeled his eyes away when Youngjae called him, reminded him of his presence, made him smile in subtle tones, the shape quiet against full lips.

"I can't see through walls--come to the bathroom," he answered, voice matching volume before it, too, tapered off, fell into the water; he almost expected a splash.

[ txt ⇢ jinyoung :D ] if i brought a puppy home you wouldn’t be mad right? [ txt ⇢ jinyoung :D ] right????

[ msg to: ☺️ ] no i wouldn't but i’m wondering if this is your way of coping with your fear of cats

#junior.#*ass fat yeah i know*

some title

It's more volunteering than working, happens too fast for Jinyoung to complain. One moment he's being told that the moped is for deliveries, doesn't pick up the rest of what they say, and the next he's riding through Seoul with a stack of food tied to the back. The ride itself is easy, less bumpy than he'd imagined, not as smooth as he'd hoped. A white helmet covers his head, makes his body look unbalanced, too heavy—makes him think that he'll tip over at each turn, that he should have worn heavy boots or stuffed his pockets with rocks; instead he tightens his grip, guides the moped into a parking garage, ignores the pain on his bottom. Soon he's tugging off the helmet, undoing the ties, carrying the scrambled food up stairs and through doors, moped always on his mind. Then he checks the address two times, gives the wood a few knocks before he waits, lets the bag rustle as he sways.

#rksvnny #siiiiikeeeee

yugyeomism

i think ur a contra

what’s wrong with being cute? i mean, you’re pretty cute, let’s face it – you have your sexy moments, i admit, but you’re hella cute. ( * winks, snickering quietly and emphasizing the last part of the sentence in english ) i know it was a bad pun, you don’t need to remind me – jin, you are seriously so salty right now i don’t even know what to say. breaking your heart? aw, cute. ( * rolls his eyes, sniffling a bit ) i should, shouldn’t i? then we can watch american horror story together, that show is my everything right now. ( * clears his throat ) yeah, i’m down to dance with you, i’ll remember to hit you up! ( * smirks ) yeah, sometimes being the key word.

because i like to think of myself as a grown man--cute just doesn’t really fit in there. i would say it isn’t my style but that’d be cheesy, y’know? and i’m always kind of salty. (` shrugs. ) and it’s more like all the time--let’s face it, i’m a comedic genius. (* and he never speaks this much, feels like his restrictions come undone in the tiny restaurant across from the boy he’s met online through a game he plays so much. it’s odd and it’s strange but he can’t shake the feeling of how good it feels, both to speak, to open up, to have a stranger turn into such a good friend in a short time. ) i really want to watch it. everyone says it’s really good but i always end up watching something actually scary instead.

#rkjaebum

wangmins

from cute to charismatic in 0.5 seconds

#junior.

i love hats

rksoo

He used to own an umbrella four years ago, used to own white rain boots he would use for puddles, a clear rain coat he would layer onto his clothes. He used to meet the rain in full preparation--in a synthetic resistance he would carry out with some pride, with some guilt, as though the rain had feelings, too. As if it wanted to be welcomed with open arms, something he did after he would come home as a child, shed most of his layers, and jump into the rain, dance between drops and puddles.

Now, though, as the rain fell in heavy coats that splattered the streets, tinted the sidewalk with the pungent smell of rain. He watched from inside, eyes dull with dread, curved as though sad, pensive; as though his mood were trickling down with the water, as well.

"Do you think it'll stop soon?" Jinyoung asked with a softened tone, quiet with innocence, an inexperience of rain and the recognition of its patterns. He only knew that sometimes it rained, left scattered clouds behind, penetrated everything with its scent; he only knew that it felt wonderful in the summer and terrible in the winter; and that if he opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, the raindrops would avoid him and fall elsewhere. So he turned to someone whom he hoped was an expert, the boy with heart-shaped lips, rounded eyes. He set the box of ramen in front of him, let his lips pout as eh thought, wondered. "I don't even live close enough to get home dry."

#rksoo

i think ur a contra

thanks, you’re basically calling me handsome – you’re cute too, i guess. ( * snickers behind a closed fist ) aw, too bad i’m totally not playing for that team – in her terms, i guess it would be serving that… table. ( * he’s smiling awkwardly at both jinyoung and himself – he’s definitely not proud of tat sad excuse for a pun ) uh, ew, that’s kinda nasty. ( * rolls his eyes, cracking his neck by tilting it from side to side ) oh, that’s good, then – makes you less of a dumbass, but a dumbass nonetheless. ( * stickes his tongue out playfully, his eyes turning into half-moon crescents ) my bad, mister famous youtuber. ( * holds his hands up in feign awe, then chuckles again ) yea basically, along with a lot of netflix binges and junk food. oh, and work and dancing and all that crap.

i'm not 'basically' calling you handsome--i'm straight up calling you handsome. and all i get is a cute? that's fine. (` he answers in english that wavers, worn at the edges from lack of use so he brandishes it now, wears it like fabric that spills from his lips, ripples in the air. it twists his lips into a smile, thins his eyes, wrinkles the edges. ) that's a bad pun but i'm the dumbass. okay, jae, whatever makes you feel better at night after breaking me and the waitress's hearts. (` then he leans further back, drums his fingers on the table. ) you should invite me to netflix binges--i miss those so much. also dance with me, too--just let me tag along like we're joined at the hip, man. it'll be good for you; i'm really funny sometimes.

#rkjaebum

i think ur a contra

( * the waitress smiles shyly at jaebum, and he nods his head to her awkwardly as she walks away with his order scribbled onto her little notepad – his slight grimace immediately turns into a cheerful grin as soon as jinyoung slides into the seat across from him ) dude, i think she was hitting on me. i think i should have told her that i was gay but then maybe she wouldn’t serve me, i don’t know. ( * laughs behind the back of his hand, staring jinyoung straight in the eyes – it finally registers how dumb jinyoung had been, and he tries to stifle another laugh ) dumbass. ( * shakes his head, reaching across to pat jinyoung on the shoulder ) just kidding – i ordered for you, by the way. i know what you like! ( * clears his throat ) so what’s goin’ on, man? been playing some league, i’m guessing?

dalsuji-deactivated20180520

maybe she would still serve you because she thought you were handsome. but, you never know. (` he leans in, lowers his voice as his lips curve, form an impish smile. ) she might be into that sort of thing. (` finishes with a snort, legs stretching as he leans back into his chair, slumps his shoulders in comfort. ) i just got confident about my memory--at least i didn't go inside. (` the smile remains as his hands climb up to the table; he fiddles his fingers together, hooks and unhooks, threads them as he speaks. ) i've been playing, yeah. i tried to do a youtube video--i wanted to be a youtuber--but i did the whole thing and didn't realize that the camera i used didn't have a memory card. so that was kind of cool. (` a pout punctuates his words. ) what about you? have you gone to league players anonymous for your addiction?

#rkjaebum

▪ after training food

it had been such a hard day but it was finally coming to an end. even though she wasn’t completely exhausted, she was still looking forward to eating and getting some sleep. in her mind while she was performing and picking up water bottles to hand out, she thought about what she would like to eat. the different images of food popped up in her mind and she must have looked overly excited because she was told to calm her face down. it snapped her back to reality but she wondered for how long she had spaced out, she had only one bottle left.

“would you like something to drink?” she asked a random person that was standing in the crowd, a smile curving her lips and crescent eyes beaming at the male face. it took her a second before she realized this wasn’t a stranger. “ohh–” was her immediate reaction, “jin…young?” she looked at him, worried that she had linked the wrong name to the wrong face.